#he also died before the island got wiped so she already had time to become less of his little shadow

[arolesbianism]

I am having a delightful time plotting out hcs for Euphraise's childhood and young adulthood and it's making me wanna revamp the looper Euphrasie au concepts I made a whole back because I need an excuse to explore different aspects of this woman so badly

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part IIII) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | 

Summary: Reader ponders the decision they made after meeting Zemo in Riga. Series now complete!

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: Kissing, marijuana & alcohol abuse, heavy angst & depression, small reference to suicide, implied casual sex, yearning

A/N (also check out A/N at end when finished reading): This is it, everyone! I was going to end this completely differently originally, but after some thinking --  and some light peer pressure from ya’ll, I did something a little different. I did fight with this part the most out of all of them, so I hope it’s still good. Please enjoy. And thank you for all the love on this series, it’s been so fun to write! Also I was listening to this song while writing this.

---

The incessant buzz of her alarm clock jolted her out of her dreamless sleep. Fumbling in the dark, she slapped the top of it, hitting the snooze button and looking at the interface with bleary eyes. 

4:00 A.M. It stared, indifferent, back at her tired face. 

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and lamenting, bargaining, half expecting the clock to turn back time when she opened her eyes again. Unfortunately, it did not. With a huff, she threw back the covers and stretched, disturbing the orange cat that slept in the empty spot next to her where her husband used to lay. 

Snorting, the cat lifted its head to look at her as she climbed out of bed before curling back up in a ball where her feet had been. 

“Don’t mind me, just getting ready for work so I can feed us,” she said, grumpily, then in a moment of repentance, affectionately scratching her behind the ears. 

She had always been a night owl, so she didn’t think it would be possible to ever get used to waking this early. No human was meant to function at this time. It was the one part of the job she hated most. The rest of it was manageable, though it was still work. 

Setting about her morning routine, she showered, made coffee, and donned her uniform. Eating a day-old bagel and nursing her coffee on her tiny balcony, she looked out over the darkened horizon. It was far too early to even enjoy a sunrise. 

There was a saying, time heals all wounds. After her husband died, she’d heard it a lot. It was a saying she had come to find true. But it’d been well over a year since she’d left Helmut, alone in that swanky hotel room, and it still hurt like it was yesterday. 

“I understand,” he’d murmured, and she felt the ghost of his kiss on her forehead, arms around her waist, even now. She shivered, not from the chill of the morning air.

She’d left her old life behind, all of it. Sam and Bucky, too, about a month after their time in Riga. She couldn’t look them in the eyes after what she’d done.

But, she was proud of what they’d accomplished. They’d defeated the Flag Smashers. Bucky seemed happier, more at peace. Sam had accepted his role as the new Captain America. John Walker seemed to have faded into irrelevancy. All the loose ends had been tied up in a pretty little bow.

Except for hers.

Which is why she moved, sold all the stuff in her tiny NYC apartment, and packed her car full with what she couldn’t bear to part with, some photos and momentos from a different lifetime. Her car didn’t stop until she hit the Atlantic Ocean, on an island just south of Charleston. All but undiscovered by tourists, the residents in the sleepy beach town kept to themselves, and she could go about her life in peace, undisturbed. 

She couldn’t just run away from her problems, that was why she’d left Zemo. It seemed counterintuitive, but in her mind, it made sense. The problems would catch up to her, like they always had. The dissatisfaction she had with her life, with herself, was always going to return. And she knew she had to be alone to deal to face it head on. Like a wounded animal, crawling into the woods, there were only two ways things could end here; either she’d heal and come out stronger, or eventually she’d die. And so far, the healing part wasn’t going great. 

Each day was a matter of convincing herself that she’d made the right choice. Especially now, as her eyes burned, fighting to stay open against the inviting embrace of sleep. 

Despite it being dark outside, the bakery was bustling already when she walked in the service entrance. It smelled amazing, as always. Sweet and warm, a cacophony of aromas, baking bread, fresh coffee, sugar.

She set about the usual preparations to open up, packaging orders for the regulars, sweeping the floor, wiping down countertops. Once the place was open, she didn’t have to work the register, as she prepared batches of dough in the back for proofing, to be baked the next day. 

Before, she’d been a terrible cook, but she’d grown comfortable in the kitchen after learning to bake. There was something satisfying about working with her hands, at this point she’d memorized all the recipes and the work became second nature to her. Now, she always had fresh bread and pastries in her kitchen, although they were the slightly disformed, ones the shop owners deemed too ugly for the glass display cases. Daylight was cherished, even if she barely saw it inside the shop. Because while she was awake, busy with work, her thoughts remained pleasant.

At night it was the hardest. Things got quiet, lonely. When she got home, she poured herself a drink. Cheap whiskey, the kind that came in a plastic bottle and burned on it’s way down. She had never been much of a drinker before, she was now. Her thoughts were more manageable after a drink. Especially because she was usually thinking of Helmut. 

It was often that she wondered what he may be doing, and those thoughts usually ended with the image of him lying in the sun, poolside, on some island in the Pacific Ocean, drinking expensive champagne with a supermodel. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought to her, and yet she was plagued by some variation of it every night. 

Sometimes, she’d humor herself, and imagine what they might be doing had she decided to stay with him. Unfortunately, thinking of that was more upsetting. She wanted it, selfishly, though she wasn’t willing to admit it.

When she was younger, it had been so easy to block out the pain, to just press forward, no matter what. Much to her dismay, it didn’t get easier as she got older. Years of watching those she loved in pain, years of being in pain had taken a toll on her resilience. She wasn’t the strong woman she once was, she was weak.

That night, one drink had turned into two, into three. Wallowing in her own self-pity had become second-nature, she felt like Hamlet, lamenting her circumstances, a constant turmoil monologuing in her brain. But this night felt particularly worse, for some reason. 

For the record, she had been doing better. But she was all-too-familiar with how grief worked, pulling her back down the dark side of the mountain, where she was forced to fight her demons over and over again. At some point, they were going to win.

It was a funny thing. Despite the loss of her husband, who she had loved dearly, his death had been easier to accept. Final. She couldn’t bring him back. Helmut on the other hand, was still out there, an open wound that could never fully heal.

Before she knew it, she was four drinks in, at her bedside table, fumbling through the bottom drawer, until she found what she was looking for.

Back on her couch, she stared at the card in her hand, the hastily written phone number on it, an international line. Helmut had given it to her, the day she left, stuck it in her purse while she wasn’t looking. She didn’t discover it until she had returned home.

It had been months since she last did this, pulled the card out of its hidden place in her drawer, placed it on the coffee table in front of her next to her phone, and considered dialing it. It had been a frequent occurrence when she first moved here, when she couldn’t find a job and spent most of her mornings either hungover, or stumbling home from rendezvous with men whose names she wouldn’t remember, and she wouldn’t care to, because there was only one man she really wanted. She could only hope he’d be as close as one call away. But she never called. 

I mean really, he’d probably moved on by this point. If she was going to call, she should have done it months ago, when there was more of a chance that he’d give a fuck. 

She considered this a setback. But she’d made her way halfway through the cheap bottle of whiskey, it was the drunkest she’d been in ages and she was curious. She didn’t know whose number it was, who’d be on the other end of the line, and never knew why Helmut would want her to have it to begin with.  

At this point, she wasn’t capable of good decision making. In general, it hadn’t always been her strong suit. So why did doing the right thing matter now? It didn’t, she decided. 

Taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, she ensured she wouldn’t remember what happened next, at least not clearly. 

The phone rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” she didn’t recognize the sound of the man on the other end of the line immediately, so she didn’t answer. All she had wanted to do was maybe hear Helmut’s voice, he didn’t even need to know it was her that was calling. 

“Hello?” the man repeated, and she realized it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. The grandfatherly, comforting tone wasn’t her former lover, but someone close to him. And she supposed that wasn’t terrible.

“Is this Oeznik?” she asked. 

“It is,” he said after some hesitation. “May I ask who’s speaking?”

Truthfully, she was shocked she’d allowed herself to go this far. This was a bad idea. If she stopped now she could get off without doing any real damage. But just as she was about to hang up, she heard her name, muffled, on the other end of the line. 

“H-How do you know it’s me?” She raised the phone back to her ear. 

“I thought you sounded familiar,” Oeznik chuckled, low and soft. “Helmut told me you might call.”

“He did?” she squeaked. “Yes, although it was awhile ago. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I uh….I….well….” she managed. “I guess I just….I guess I wanted to see how he was doing.”  Her words flowed together like the liquor she was drinking, she knew she sounded drunk.

“Good, since we last spoke,” he said. “I don’t hear from him much these days...maybe every couple months. As you might imagine, he’s trying to keep a low profile for the time being.”

She nodded. Perhaps Zemo was as lonely as she was, hidden away in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Though she had to imagine it looked much nicer than her current place, and maybe he had better company than a portly orange cat that begrudgingly liked him. “I understand.”

“How have you been?” he asked.

It sounded stupid, but she realized it was the first time someone had asked her that. Sincerely. Checked up on her. Even if she was the one who had dialed the number in the first place.

“I’m good,” her voice cracked. “Just keeping busy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “Helmut always had such nice things to say about you.”

“Really?” she couldn’t stop herself. 

“Of course, would you like me to let him know you called?” 

“No, no...I wouldn’t want to bother him,” she choked on her words, something catching in her throat.

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear?”

“I’m okay, I just….” she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, lowering her voice, since she didn’t think her normal register would come out as anything other than a whine. “I think I made a horrible mistake.”

“What’s the matter? What did you do?”

She shook her head, shaking the tears loose and now they were lining her lashes, threatening to spill over. However, she managed to make the next words she spoke come out clearly. “Nothing, I just...it’s really stupid, I really shouldn’t have called.”

He sighed on the other end of the line, and she felt like, despite her attempt at staying calm, he could still see that she wasn’t somehow. “It seemed Helmut was awfully sweet on you,” Oeznik’s words next came hesitantly, calculated. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he told me if you ever called, to help you with whatever you might need, no matter the ask.”

Oh God, what had she done? A sob left her, one she couldn’t control, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle any more. Her tears were flowing freely now, tracking down her cheeks and along her chin. She wiped at them clumsily, clearing her throat. 

“That’s very kind of him, but you can’t help me. I’m so sorry to bother you, please just forget I even called,” she forced a smile on her face so that hopefully he could hear it. “Goodbye.”

She hung up, horrified, and within seconds had deleted the call log from her phone. She’d been thoughtful enough not to memorize the number, and the lighter she used whenever she smoked sat in front of her. Without a second though, she burned the card, watching the paper blacken and disintegrate, until it was all but a pile of soot on her Wal-Mart coffee table. It was a fair punishment, and ensured she’d never get the chance to embarrass herself like that again. 

And then she cried, sobbed into a pillow next to her, until her tears ran dry and she wore herself out, falling asleep on the couch alone. When she’d wake the next morning, the only evidence of her actions would be a throbbing headache and a dead phone. 

She wouldn’t remember the call.

----

Life went on, as it always did. It had been about a month, and since that night she grew more indifferent, remembered how to ignore heartbreak. For now, she was stuck in her purgatory, waking up before the sun and falling asleep before it set, smoking joints, drinking cheap liquor, and going on the occasional date with people who she didn’t really like, tourists who would leave after a week and wanted temporary company. 

Despite everything, she partly believed things were getting better. Maybe they weren’t, but the possibility that someday they would seemed feasible. And that was enough, for now. 

On her days off, she’d walk to the beach and lay on a blanket, reading a book until the sun dipped below the horizon and lit up the sky in hues of pinks and purples. She found a record player at an antique store and began collecting vinyls, listening to obscure artists whose albums she found in the $1 bin. It wasn’t so bad. Life wasn’t so bad. 

She took a shower after work. Tomorrow was her off day, and she wasn’t sure what she had planned besides maybe watching a movie and getting stoned. Maybe she’d try going to the beach. The weather was getting warmer, and she could even go swimming if the water wasn’t too cold. 

Exhausted from her day of work, she laid down in her bed, still in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel around her head. The sun was setting outside, the windchimes she’d hung outside slowly clanging together, birds singing in the warm spring air. Her cat hopped on the bed, offered an affectionate trill and curled up at her side, purring, in a rare display of affection. A cool breeze drifted through the open window. And for the first time in over a year, she felt content. Closing her eyes, she savored the moment, committed it to memory, so she could recall it the next time she was drunk-crying in front of her TV. 

She fell asleep slowly, so slowly that when she woke, startled by something in her kitchen clattering to the floor, it felt like she hadn’t even been sleeping at all. The clock next to her red 11:31 p.m. and it was pitch dark outside, the cool breeze from before had grown stronger and her bedroom curtains were billowing, wind whistling loudly through the apartment. Her cat had left her side, and she frowned, shivering in the sudden cold.

Pulling the towel off her head, she made her way over to the window with the intention to close it, sleepily, lazily, until she heard something else. A creak in the floorboard. A heavy footstep in her kitchen. That wasn’t just her cat. 

Some kind of muscle memory was ignited then, an ancient instinct that called to her from a different lifetime. Darting across the room, the gun she kept was in her hand, stealthily pulled from its hiding spot beneath her mattress. Truth be told, she never thought she would’ve needed it. Anyone looking for her would be smart enough to kill her in her sleep, not be so foolish as to wake her first with their heavy footsteps. 

A dark silhouette stalked through her kitchen, moving slowly. It was a man, she assumed, based on his broader figure, and lack of coordination. In her experience, women were often stealthier without trying. He took another step, the floor creaking below him, shuffling on bargain linoleum. 

Staying low, she crept forward, ducking stealthily behind furniture, avoiding the spots on the floor she knew made noise. It didn’t appear the intruder had a weapon, in fact, it seemed he was bumbling about, searching for something. A burglar, and a bad one at that. An island full of vacation homes owned by rich doctors and they thought they’d find valuables in her shitty apartment?

It wasn’t until she was standing directly behind him, gun aimed at his head, that she finally spoke up. 

“I believe you’ve come to the wrong place,” she said flatly. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’d be in your best interest to leave empty-handed.”

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but the intruder froze, arms slowly raising in defeat, empty-handed, as he turned around to face her. In the dingy room, she couldn’t make out any of his features, could only see that he was clad in all black.

“Unfortunately, liebling, that wasn’t my intention.” 

She would’ve recognized that voice anywhere, though the endearment he’d used was enough to clue her in. Hitting the lightswitch with her free hand, she was face to face with the man she’d spent the past year trying to purge from her memory, Helmut Zemo. 

Her gut twisted, her mind raced, but the only thing currently bubbling up, over the surface of every other emotion was the pure, seething rage left behind in the wake of fearing for her life.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she stepped towards him, gun still raised, fuming. 

“Hey, hey!” he staggered backwards, hands raised, eyes averted. 

“I thought you were a fucking robber!” she hissed. “I thought you were here to kill me!”

“Lower your voice,” he scolded. “You’re going to wake your neighbors.”

Taking a deep breath, she realized she still had her gun trained on him and she lowered it, clicking the safety and discarding the weapon on the countertop. “What the fuck?” she asked. “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you,” he smirked, but she wasn’t finished, and she glowered at him. 

“You broke into my apartment!” she growled.

“I had to be sure I was in the right place.”

“Yeah? You couldn’t have knocked first?”

He nodded, eyes trailing down to her hands, which were trembling, she hadn’t even realized. He seemed to understand what he’d done then, and she flexed her fingers, eyes locking with his. “I suppose...you may be right,” he said, surrendering.

She felt the rage subsiding as she took in his appearance. He looked not so different from the last time she’d seen him, except a fair amount of stubble covered his jawline in a short beard. He was still devastatingly handsome. Zemo’s dark eyes, filled with longing, drank her in, tilting his head as his gaze shifted to her lips. It was like she could read his mind, she knew what he wanted, what he was thinking. And her body was going to betray her if he kept it up.

Despite everything, she was still upset. Upset and embarrassed, as the light was doing an unflattering expose of her tiny, cluttered apartment, full of mismatched furniture and water-damaged wallpaper that her landlord refused to replace. It probably gave the prison cells that Helmut had spent years in a run for their money, and was in stark contrast to every other aspect of his life.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the empty liquor bottles on her countertop, stowed in her trash can. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not tonight,” she quipped, on guard. Had to be. As much as some old instinct told her to throw herself into his arms, press her lips to the underside of his jaw, and let him envelope her in the comfort of his embrace, she knew she couldn’t.

“Hmm,” he brushed past her, frowning, looking disappointed, as he made his way to her living room. 

“How did you find me?” she asked, eyeing him wearily.

“I’m a wanted man, I trace every call that comes into my estate,” he said over his shoulder. 

Helmut was taking inventory of the cramped space, staring at the photos she’d hung in a collage on the wall behind her couch, with a few watercolors painted by her late husband. One in particular, that he was focused on now, was from her wedding. Of all the memories she chose to hang, this one was her fondest, her former partner was all dark curly hair falling into deep blue eyes, and she was the portrait of a blushing bride, wearing a dopey love-drunk smile, gazing at him, ignoring the camera. 

“You looked so beautiful on your wedding day,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at her. He was so out of place here, standing in her living room, for a moment she thought he might be a hallucination, some physical manifestation of the heartbreak she’d experienced. “Although that doesn’t surprise me.”

She flushed, suddenly self-conscious in her thin black robe and still-damp hair. It occurred to her that she wasn’t looking her best, which made this whole situation that much more disconcerting. However, the compliment disarmed her slightly, and the anger she felt began to dissipate, slowly. She was going to offer him something to drink until her cat, who had been absent through the chaos, suddenly jumped up on the back of the couch and promptly hissed at him in an attempt to defend her territory.

“Pumpkin, be nice,” she said, although it was mostly to placate Helmut. Pumpkin never listened to her. 

Helmut let her sniff his hand, and she was stunned when the cat rubbed her face against it. Of course, Pumpkin would like him of all people. That made sense. Then again, she supposed it made them not so different. He turned away to look at the rest of the room. “I see you haven’t kicked that bad habit you told me about,” he gestured at the ashtray full of roaches on the coffee table. 

“Did you just come to my place to insult me?” she asked, putting her hands on her lips and feigning confidence. She could’ve rolled over and cried and told him how much she missed him, how many nights she’d spent crying over him, and while all of it was true, she felt indignation was the better option for her self-preservation.

“That’s a good question,” Helmut turned to face her now, hands in the pockets of the leather jacket he was wearing. Completely inappropriate for the weather here, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Why do you think I’m here?” he asked.

She shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t know, but you shouldn’t be.”

He snorted, his frustration evident, and she saw a glimpse of the man that so many feared, the side that had earned him his dangerous reputation, that had him locked away in a high-security prison for nearly a decade. “I didn’t come all this way for nothing, draga, we’re going to have it out.”

“Fine,” she said, lacing as much venom as she could into her words to prepare herself. “Then get on with it.”

He stared her down, and the expression her wore startled her, something sparkled in his eyes, mischief, relief maybe? It was insulting. Like he didn’t take her seriously. But there was something else there, too, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was wiped from his visage before it registered.

The tension in the room dissipated slightly when Zemo sat on the arm of the worn couch she’d bought from a yard sale, and she winced. “I spoke to Oeznik the other day,” he said flatly, snorting, eyes focused on a stain on one of the rugs she owned. “He told me he had the pleasure of speaking to a friend of mine about a month ago.”

Frowning, she tilted her head, her eyes meeting Helmut’s. Something in her brain sparked a memory she’d once dismissed as a dream after a particularly bad night of drinking.

“He was concerned, you see, because this friend didn’t seem to be in the best state of mind,” Helmut rose from the arm of the couch, stalking forward slowly, and she couldn’t move backwards, not even if she wanted to, as he could pin her easily against the front door. His voice grew louder, faster as he went on. “He said she was crying, slurring her words, he told me he thought maybe she might be-” Helmut cut himself off abruptly and closed his eyes, clenching one of his fists, a look of distress on his face as he took in a terse breath. “I won’t finish that thought, but you’re a smart girl, you can imagine what I’m getting at.”

Swallowing hard, the phone call came back to her in pieces, the tears, sobbing on the phone to a man she hardly knew. It was the night she finally admitted to herself she’d made a mistake, even though she’d already known it, deep down when she left him in the hotel room. 

“Please forgive me for breaking in tonight,” Helmut said. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of you not answering the door, I needed to see with my own eyes that you were okay.”

Exhaling through her nose, she looked at the floor. “It’s not like that. I had too much to drink.” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “It was just a bad night.”

“Then tell me, what was the horrible mistake you made?” he asked, stepping closer. He was close to her, now. So close. And his proximity made everything more difficult.

God, if only she could remember exactly what she’d said, the only thing that came to her were the emotions, desperation, sadness, grief. It was all too much, and he was threatening to bring them all back to destroy her again. 

“I shouldn’t have called,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” He asked, tilting his head, his eyebrows pulling together. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? How hard it was to sit on a plane when all I wanted to do was be here? With you?” His hand rose to cup her cheek, stopping just short of her face when she flinched away from his touch.

“Please stop,” she managed, the burn of tears behind her eyes almost menacing. The last thing she needed was to cry in front of him. “You’re undoing everything.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked. 

“You’re….you’re here,” she murmured weakly, wetness seeping, glossing over her pupils. “I only have so much capacity for pain right now, if you touch me now, you’ll ruin everything.”

No one ever had this kind of hold on her, she’d never bent her rules to appease anyone else, and she’d gone toe to toe with super soldiers. He was just a man, and yet, he terrified her. 

“You really want me to leave?”

She couldn’t answer, but one tear escaped, sliding down her cheekbone, and she sniffled. 

“I’m not the one who did this to you,” his thumb, swiped along her face gently, wiping it away. He’d touched her, just barely, and she was reeling. 

“I know,” she stuttered, gasping. “I know it was me, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You are so stubborn.” His expression softened as he looked upon her, his thumb tracing underneath her jaw, tilting her head upwards to look at him. Malleable, she obliged. “I’ve thought about you everyday since the night we spent together. You’ve plagued me. That can’t be a coincidence. Are you really happier this way? You must be honest with me.”

She shook her head, blinking out fresh tears. “No, I’m not. I just thought...by the time I realized I made the wrong choice, you’d have moved on. People like us don’t get to be happy.”

“Says who?”

How could she refuse him anymore? This would continue to go on until she gave in. And from the beginning, she wanted to give in. There was no use in fighting the inevitable. The small point of contact -- his hand on her chin -- radiated impressive warmth, and she could feel every part of herself being attracted to him, quelling some ache deep within her. 

Reaching up, she clutched at Helmut’s palm, which didn’t last long, because he pulled her into his arms, nestling her head underneath his chin. She melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his solid frame. 

“Come home with me,” he coaxed softly. 

“I will,” she murmured, surrendering to the comfort of his presence. “But you have to let me bring Pumpkin.”

He chuckled, warm and amiable, the vibration of his chest echoing in her own. “Of course, you’ll bring Pumpkin,” he murmured into her hair. Oh, how she had missed hearing him laugh. They could’ve stayed that way for hours, and she would’ve been content, but he pulled away, hands on either side of her face as he studied her.

Unable to hold back any longer, she leaned in to kiss him. It was chaste at first, all the memories of her last night with him came flooding back quickly when he parted his lips to deepen the kiss, but she didn’t want that quite yet, just needed a moment to process this. The simple comfort of being held by him, kissed by him, was more than enough for now. He’d been waiting for this, she could assume in the way that he responded, pulling her impossibly close so she was engulfed in him.

Her stomach flipped, a warmth blossoming in her chest as he pulled away, their foreheads touching. “Oh, I missed you,” she sighed, shivering as his beard tickled her neck, his mouth on her sensitive skin.

“And I, you,” he murmured. His eyes studied her, carefully, up close, and for the first time since meeting him, she really let him see her, teary-eyed and vulnerable.

She would never let him go again. 

---

A/N: So here we are! I know it’s been a ride, but I’m really excited for these two. However, I don’t feel like I’m done writing for Zemo yet. If ya’ll have any headcanons, thoughts, questions, requests, etc, feel free to drop them in my ask box or shoot me a DM. I’d love to talk more about him. I also would be down to write more oneshots based around this series, because I am sort of like….okay, they obviously have a connection, but they don’t know that much about each other, and I may or may not have a light future already mapped out for them. I might do an epilogue at some point even. But if you have anything you’d like to add, let me know!

Taglist: @juice-1981  @sapphiredreamer26  @tatooineisdry  @marvelsvision @spookycereal-s @trelaney @fireghost-x @booksarekindaneat  @thunderingbats  @felicityofbakerstreet @takacsgram @mischiefmanaged71 @fanfictionedagain @merelyhooper @gyllord @mundaytuesday @friday18eo  @lovegood7553  @adara-wolfhart @a-djarin @farawaywasteland @sky-writes-stuff @fuckinglittlekitten @katyasrussianaccent @agent-jbarnes  @neoarchipelago @pattispunk @kpopnena @purebloodwitch @spookyconsultingcriminal @msmarvelwrites @professorrw @lazyradeecal @captainrexstan @notyourfuckingbusinesss @felicityofbakerstreet @unlikekiana @maeday-18 @friendly-letters @fandom-lover-4 @meefal @queenfairyfangirl @gogomonbebelf @scullys-alienpussy @the-multiverse-approach @sky-writes-stuff @safiakillspop @eggofhumiliation @originalcollectorsaladsstuff @archangelproperty @friday18eo @jayden-rose-leon @actuallyanita @mayhemmachine @kermuddgen @zadiewrites @pach-inks @theokatz @reichelhache @autumnsoidier @mischief-siriusly-managed @danaaeaa @joey-motorola @singlemomslayer @stevesbestgirl @dinna-fashh @popriskra @xaanyhs @adorable-punk-superheroes​

[td-scenarios]

How they react to seeing their S/O crying

First scenarios are a go!

Cody

Will most definitely start panicking at your status and start asking you various questions.

“Are you okay? Did I do something? Do you need space? Should I hug you? Do I need to punch someone?” And you better believe he’ll do that last one based off that one scene of him and Duncan in World Tour.

Goes and brings his stash of candy to you for you to enjoy

If you don’t need space at the moment but instead comfort, you better believe this boy will turn into the biggest cuddlebug. His arms just wrapping around your entire body and him resting his head into the crook of your neck. Would totally start kissing you all over the face until you smiled and were laughing as you told him to stop in a lighthearted manner

Trust me, Cody is not leaving until there’s a smile on your face. Even if you ask for some space he’ll be sending you memes or stupid little drawings.

Also would totally do the really cheesy thing of wiping away your tears and resting the palm of his hand on your cheek so that you can lean into it.

Scott

Doesn’t really understand what’s going on at first. He’s clever, but he ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed at times.

“Why are you crying? It better not be somethin’ stupid, cuz, ya know, back on the farm-” cue you punching him in the face or on the shoulder

That’s when he’s like ‘Oh fuck, something is ACTUALLY wrong. Oh no this is a time where  I have to step up as a boyfriend oh no oh no’

Him awkwardly being all “So....um....what’s wrong?”

His face absolutely breaking upon seeing your shattered expression. Protective boyfriend mode = activated.

“Did someone hurt you? Babe, you better believe that I’ll go and make their life a living hell, trust me.” And then you just slowly shaking your head no and leaning your head onto his chest, which just makes this big softie melt.

Y’all cuddling for a long time until you eventually fall asleep on him and he’s just brooding on the fact that if someone did cause it, he really was gonna go and  beat them up, He doesn’t make idle threats, but for now, it’s just calm between the two of you.

Brick

He gets back from running one of his bi-hourly jogs with Jo to see your form shaking from under a blanket in the cabin. Since you’re under the blanket, he can only assume you’re not cold and immediately comes to the conclusion that you are upset

“Y/N! What has got you feeling so blue right now?” He would try to lower his voice for you, but his same tone only wavers a bit. Habits and all that.

You already know that this sweet boy will drop whatever other plans he had for today to stay in the cabin and comfort you until you were better.

He’d try to suggest going outside and getting some fresh air, but you two would go out for a bit and you’d either see the person who upset you or get reminded of your homesickness or whatever else made you sad, so you two would just go back inside.

Brick being Brick would probably find a way of accidentally making you laugh and he’ll just continue with that until you forgot why you were sad in the first place. 

Mike

Taking a break from the others, Mike finds you sitting on a rock near the beach with your head buried into your folded arms. He instantly comes jogging up to your side and sits across from you, gently saying your name which gets you to look up. When you ask for alone time, he softly shakes his head.

“I can’t leave you until I make sure you’re okay, Y/N. You know me, it’s good knowing that the people I care about are good.” Those words kind of put a smile on your face as you look at the gap toothed boy.

Mike counts this as the start of working your mood back up. He wouldn’t want to make you more sad by making you talk about what upset you, so instead he decides to start telling you funny stories of shenanigans his alters have caused.

“They’re quite the cast! I remember when Manitoba was really proud of himself for digging up some new material, but the guy was already a little bit tired so instead he was just holding some dried cow patty! Vito wouldn’t let him live it down for weeks!” More and more stories of that caliber, all of which would make you giggle in some way or another.

At some point, Mike ends up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and it’s become night time so you’re both just looking up into the stars. A nice serene way to forget about what was plaguing your mind earlier

Dakota

“O M G, babe, are you okay? Your skin is getting a little blotchy.” You would wince a little bit at that prompting her to apologize as you wipe one side of your face with your hand.

The blonde would sit next to you on the cabin bed and ask that you “spill the tea, sugar.

After telling her what’s wrong, she insists on taking care of you for the rest of the day. Bringing you any food she can scour off the island, asking the other teens of the cast to leave the two of you alone, and once your crying dies down a bit she starts doing your makeup.

“I like doing your makeup so much because it gives me a great view of your gorgeous face.”

This comment of Dakota’s immediately gets the waterworks started up again.

She starts panicking, thinking she said something wrong while carefully putting her makeup brushes down. You just shake your head and hug her tightly, to which she’s confused about, but reciprocates anyways.

Leshawna

This girl immediately hugs you as soon as she sees how distressed you are. She gives the best hugs ever, I would know, Fresh TV told me.

“Alright baby, tell me what’s got your feathers in a bunch! Leshawna will make all the problems go away.” Her voice is so calming at that point that you break down even more and choke out what’s been bothering you.

If it is someone, she would definitely start making threats, but wouldn’t dare to leave you alone in this state, so whoever did this to you would definitely get some knuckle sandwiches later.

The girl would take you back to her cabin and lay both of y’all down on her bed and softly sing to you (even if it’s not the best, it’s endearing.) Until you fall asleep in eachother’s arms.

Leshawna would be the first to wake up and would smile upon seeing your face, now with a soft smile instead of the heartbreaking expression it carried mere hours before. You were definitely her everything.

Heather

She really wants to keep up her mean façade like she does in front of everyone and say “ew, you’re showing emotions right now?” or something like that, but she decides that she could never do that to you. Even if anyone else was watching her at the moment.

Heather would take a seat next to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “Tell me what’s up.” And before you could say anything she interrupts, “and no, I won’t tell anyone what you tell me. I would never.” She made sure to keep both her hands up so you could see that she wasn’t crossing her fingers.

You let out a sigh and then hesitantly began telling her what’s up.

“Are you kidding? Hun, you need to put your game face on! Come with me.” She then grabs your hand and takes you around to do calming activities all around the island. Being bitchier to everyone else, but the most soft, kind, caring person in the world for you. She doesn’t let go of your hand at all just to let you know she’s there.

At the end of your day together, your tears long forgotten, both of you sat on a blanket watching the sunset, she looks over at you. “You ready to go kick some loser butt?” She says with a smirk, you sniffle a bit and nod yes. “Cool, lets go.” Her hand finally leaves yours, which saddens you, but she waits for you so you can head back to camp together. Who knew you could go a whole day with your girlfriend without her being TOO focused on the million?

Dawn

You thought you had found a quiet spot to let your feelings free under a shaded tree that may be capable of eating you any second, but how wrong you were. You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a familiar soft voice speak, “your aura is stained with anguish. What is plaguing you so?”

Dawn’s statement startled you out of your tears for a bit until you began to explain to her what had happened with a shaky voice and it all became too much so you stopped talking.

The look on her face gave away that she knew more than she let on.

“Here Y/N breathe with me.” You would give her a confused look but go along with it since your girlfriend was weirdly knowledgeable in some areas.

“Very good. You’re shaky, but there’s nothing your position won’t fix. Here follow what I do.” Dawn got into a position perfect for breathing exercises and you followed suit. “Your chakras will align in the median in your body and your mind will be freed of its chains, do not be afraid.” She repeated the affirmations in a hushed tone as you two breathed with one another.

It was actually pretty calming. The sounds of the toxic island along with Dawn’s hushed voice made for the perfect aura around you two and you can’t remember a time when you have felt so at peace.

“I can sense that your aura is back to its normal state. Are you feeling any better?” The different words took you out of your zen and you looked up at her and nodded, which made her smile.

“That is nice to hear. Would you like to go look at the flowers with me?

[unloved-cadillac]

How about something like the reader is originally a warrior, she becomes a scout immediately after the wall fell and ends up falling in love with Levi. Then one day she goes and tells Erwin everything to prove she’s on their side, when Levi finds out he’s angry at first but then ends up forgiving her

C/n: I actually wanted to write a story just like this. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

——————————————————————————

Where My Heart Lies. (Levi x Reader)

Commander Magath spoke loudly as he addressed the warriors and soldiers. “Bring back the founder. I don’t care how, you are Warriors. Nothing less. This is your objective. Now, teamed with the Armored, Jaw, Female and Colossal Titan would be a normal soldier. To not create any suspicion and to look after you kids. Y/n L/n has been chosen from the head commander for this specific job. L/n!” He shouts her name and she steps forward. “Are you ready?”

She salutes and nods. “Yes, sir!”

When she is sent back to her room to pack, she thinks about the devils she will meet and kill. It made her happy. This is what she’s been training for. She might not have made it to inherit the Female Titan but she was strong. Strong enough.

She kissed her family goodbye and headed to the Island of Devils with four kids.

~~~~

When Marcel died and the kids infiltrated the walls, Y/n made another plan. It was much better than Magath’s “just get the founder no matter what” plan. “We are joining the army. Don’t worry. I’ll be right there with you. Once we gained their trust, we attack. Trust me.” She holds Reiner, Annie and Bertholdt close to her.

The training was easy for them. The gears were weird but it took Y/n a couple of tries to get it right; that meant that it didn’t take long for her to catch the attention of the Commander and Captain of this Survey Corps.

Erwin Smith, spoke to her. Telling her that if she joined the Survey Corps, she would be the best assets there. Titans would fall quickly and it would be closer to their goal of saving humanity. Although Y/n hated it, she agreed and later joined. Reiner, Annie and Bertholdt also joined because that way she could keep an eye on them.

Once she joined, her skills improved. Unintentionally, of course. All she wanted was get the founding titan and go home, because a certain man had captured her attention. Captain Levi. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, a ruthless machine. He had his own squad but he helped train other squads as well. Including Y/n.

“You’re getting better, L/n. Keep it up.” He says as he walks by here as she finished taking down her opponent. “Thank you sir.” Levi nods and stands to the side as he watches her fight again. The movements faltered a bit but she won that round again.

“Let me show you something.” Levi interjects and steps in front of her. Her eyes widen but go back to normal as she finds her stance. “Be sharp on your feet, don’t avoid eye contact. Now watch.” He says and as fast as lightning, he had her hands behind her back and legs immobile. “How?!” She yells, chuckling a bit and he lets her go. “Practice. Now continue.” She nods as Levi begins to walk away.

Reiner didn’t miss that smile she had when Levi walked away.

Over the course of six months, Y/n and Levi began to get a bit closer than a captain and a cadet would normally be. She wasn’t young, late twenties just like him, but the feelings she felt for Levi started to flourish and it terrified her.

She couldn’t sleep because of it. Where did her heart lie now? To the army of Marley who didn’t really care about her or the “devils” that did nothing but be kind to her? Or the devil who stole her heart?

When the female titan attacked, Y/n gathered the warrior kids away from base. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” Y/n shouts at Annie but Annie scoffs. “That Eren Yeager is the reason. Did you forget why we’re actually here or did that devil do his magic on you that made you lose memory?” Annie spits back and Y/n shakes her head.

“Unnecessary. That’s what that was. Unnecessary deaths. This is ridiculous.” Y/n sighs out.

Now that Y/n had been promoted, she had got intel on the plan to capture Annie. As the commander spoke, Y/n had a war in her head. Does she tell Annie? Does she go along with the plan?

“Hey.”

A soft voice pulls her away from her mind and she looks at the man to her left. “You alright? You seem tense.” Levi asks and she nods. “I’m fine. This is a hectic plan, huh?”

“Yeah. Our own being a traitor? Make me sick just thinking about it.” Levi says and Y/n gulps. “But it’s alright, we’ll get them. I know it.” Levi assures her and rests a hand on hers.

~~~~

When Annie crystallized and havoc rained on the Survey Corps, Y/n knew where her loyalties laid. Once she knew every girl was asleep, she snuck out and made her way to the commanders office. The light that shone from inside told her that he was still awake, probably paperwork.

Y/n knocked and Erwin opened the door. “Ah, Y/n. Hello. Come in.” He welcomes her and she thanks him before sitting down. “What brings you here at this time of the night?” Erwin asks as he sits back into his chair.

“Erwin, there’s something…I need to tell you. Everyone actually but you’re the first that needs to know.” She begins.

“Me? I’m honored to know before Levi. I see you two are quite close nowadays.” Erwin wiggles his big eyebrows which makes her chuckle. “Yeah. That’s one of the reasons why I’m going to tell you what I know.” She gets serious and Erwin leans forward. “Go on.”

And she does. Every thing, not missing a single detail. From Marley, to the training, to the Titans and the traitors. “Commander, I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’ll leave if that’s what you want. But, Reiner and Bertholdt plan of taking Eren hostage and if you can stop that, I suggest you do.” Y/n concludes and takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself after her speech.

“I see. And, when exactly will this “kidnapping” happen?” Erwin asks.

“I’m not entirely sure, commander. They only spoke about it but no specific date.”

Erwin nods and gets up from his seat causing Y/n to flinch. “Tomorrow, you tell all of our Vets. I’m not going to lock you up. That will cause too much of drama and ruin the plans. Go to sleep now. First thing tomorrow, you come clean to everyone.” Y/n nods and gets up from her seat to leave.

Once she is back in her bed, she breaks down. It’s like a heavy weight has been lifted from her shoulders. But the hard part now is to confess to Levi. Everything. “He’s going to hate me.” She whispers to herself as she wipes her tears. “I didn’t even get to tell him that I love him. Fuck.”

~~~~

The next morning, the Vets sat and listened as Y/n outed herself. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone and continued to look at the floor. She wouldn’t be able to handle the disappointment they had for her.

“Well, Y/n,” Nanaba begins after a long minute of silence, “thank you for telling us. It’s not going to be easy from here on out.” Y/n nods and lifts up her head and her eyes immediately land on Levi. She’s never seen him so mad before and to think that all that anger was aimed at her made Y/n sick to her core.

“Y/n did not do anything to betray her loyalty to the Corps. Instead, she betrayed her hometown. If that doesn’t scream loyalty, I don’t know what does.” Erwin comments and looks at her. The meeting progresses and when it finishes, Levi is immediately gone. She sighs but feels a hand in her shoulder.

“Talk to him. Explain it just as you did to me. That’s the only way he will forgive you.” Erwin tells her and she closes her eyes. “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.”

Levi stormed to his office and slammed his door shut. How could she? After everything that they had been through? Him losing his squad only to realize that she knew. And to think for a moment he might ha e actually loved her. A knock makes him groan. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. So when he opened the door and saw Y/n standing there, it pushed him over the edge.

“How dare you show me your face to me?” He asks and Y/n bows her head. “I..I just wanted-“

“Nothing. I have nothing to say to you.”

“I didn’t know, Levi!” Y/n suddenly shouts and he looks at her. “What?”

“I didn’t know that Annie would do that. That wasn’t in the plan. That’s why I pulled away from them. If killing innocent people was the way to get the founder, I wasn’t going to participate. I’ve heard so much of stories about the devils of Paradis and how horrible they are, but right now the only horrible people here are the Marleyeans. I didn’t expect this. Everything I knew before was all lies. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you or confessing to all of the plans we had.” Y/n sighs as she finishes and Levi stares at her. Did he hear right? She loved him?

Levi runs a hand down his face and brings her in his office before shutting the door. When he faced her, he held her face in his hands and searched her eyes. “You won’t..lie about that, would you?” He asks in a hushed tone. Y/n knew exactly which part he was talking about and held his hands. “Never. I know that I lied about how I came here and my plans, but not this. Not when it means I could lose you if I did.” She replies and Levi nods.

He gently pulls her to him and kisses her forehead then lays his on it. “You’re going to have to make it up to me, you know that?” She smiles

“I know. I promise I will.”

~~~~

“She what?” Magath asks Reiner. “Y/n fell for Captain Levi and married him. When Zeke got involved, they were prepared already. She betrayed Marley, sir. She’s also the reason Bertholdt got killed. All of our plans were almost unsuccessful because of her.”

Zeke chuckles as he lights a cigarette. “Can’t say I’m surprised. She acted all tough but I knew she was a weak little bitch.” Reiner internally winces at Zeke’s choice at words. “Whatever. She is t our concern anymore. She married a devil so she is one now.”

Reiner shook his head at the thought of the girl who he looked up to. He’s so happy that she escaped this life. He wishes he was that lucky. Wishes that he could’ve left and start a family away from the chaos.

But at least one of them got a happy ending.

——————————————————————————

“I can’t take it. My heart’s breaking.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[collecting-stories]

Illicit Affairs - Rafe Cameron

Request: can i request a rafe x reader where she is john b's older sister? like they're trying to keep their relationship on the DL, but get tired of it after a year or so?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get to, just getting back into writing more regularly again. 

The TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else ✰

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

Your brother had left you a text just before the news began cycling their storm watch, warning everyone to stay inside and be careful of Agatha, the incoming hurricane sitting off the coast of the Outer Banks. The text said simply that he and Pope were heading out to surf the surge. You texted back a ‘come back in one piece’ and sent the same sentiment to Pope before leaving the Chateau.  

The hurricane should have warranted a reason to stay inside for both you and John B but you knew better than anyone that your dad’s disappearance had left him restless and grieving. Running into something seemed the only way he knew how to cope, even if that something was a massive hurricane. You were probably running into something too, if you were totally honest with yourself. And it was just as deadly as a category five storm.  

-

A midyear rager at the boneyard, that lacked the usual buffer created by tourons in the spring and summer, meant more kooks, or just more kooks crossing the line onto pogue territory. Nothing that should’ve inspired any real issues, but Rafe Cameron was hovering closer to the keg than you would’ve liked so you took it upon yourself to move him.  

“Don’t you guys have like...a yacht party or something you could go to?” You asked, stepping into the semi-circle Topper, Rafe, and Kelce had seemed to make. All three of them looked at you, Rafe’s eyes travelling over you appraisingly. You grimaced, “if my brother sees you hanging around-”

“What’s he gonna do?” Rafe challenged, “its a free beach.”

“You know the boneyard is on the cut.”

“What are you, beach patrol?” Kelce laughed. “Go bother someone else.”

“Just get off the cut...you aren’t welcome here.” You replied, stepping away from the three of them. You turned, heading away from the group in search of any of your friends, you knew that Rafe was right, you couldn’t actually kick anyone off the beach, but you also knew that John B had been in rare form since your dad died and seeing them would only give him an excuse to get himself into trouble.  

You were practically a yard away from the keg when you felt someone grab the waistband of your shorts. Turning, you jerked away from them and slammed your hand against their wrist.  

“Shit, those self-defense lessons at the club really paid off.” Rafe commented, rubbing his wrist.  

“What do you want Rafe?”  

Ever since you had taken the job at the island club it had become Rafe Cameron’s personal mission to drive you crazy. He seemed hellbent on bothering you on a near constant level. At least away from work you rarely had to see him, this night being a rare and unwelcome exception.  

“Have you thought about-”

“No.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. In the last two weeks he’d asked you out nearly a dozen times. You always said no but you were all to aware of that split second before the no when you considered saying yes. It was just John B that held you back. If anyone in the world took the pogue/kook shit seriously, it was your brother and his friends. There was no way they would be cool with you dating Rafe Cameron.  

“Just one date...you don’t have to tell anyone. If that’s the issue?” He suggested, as if he could read your mind.

“Maybe the issue is that I don’t like you.” You challenged, watching the way he smiled, knowing that he knew you were bullshitting him. You wanted to wipe the smug grin off his face.  

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” He replied.  

You wanted some brilliant comeback to throw back at him but when you opened your mouth the only thing that came out  was, “do you even date?”

“For you I’d make an exception. We could go over to Chapel Hill if you’re worried about your brother.” He offered, always ready with an answer.  

You were worried about John B, he would be livid. He was so consumed with the idea that your dad was out there somewhere, stranded at sea and people should be looking for him. You had been placating him since Peterkin told you that he was lost at sea, presumed dead, but in all honesty, you had moved on already. Maybe it was heartless but you weren’t fooled into believing that the loss of your dad was a tragedy.  

“Let me show you a good time,” Rafe said, hooking a finger through the belt loop of your shorts and moving closer to you.  

“You can try,” you said, pulling away from him, “but I doubt it’ll work.”

-

You should have known then, even as you agreed to the date, that there was no need to try on Rafe’s part. He was an asshole sometimes but you had certainly never been accused of having great taste in guys. That might have been the most surprising thing about Rafe, not that he was exactly the kind of guy you would usually go for on paper, but that off paper, behind closed doors, he was different. Softer. It made sneaking around the island to see him completely worth it.  

And as Agatha bared down on the island, the decision to drive to his house as the hurricane was on the horizon seemed like a good one. It was already raining heavily when you parked your car two houses down from his, walking through the downpour to Tanney Hill. The power on the cut was on its way out, you’d driven passed already dark houses and you were sure the Chateau had lost power by now. The eight seemed to be hanging onto its power and the lights on the patio flickered as you knocked on the door.  

Wheezie, the sole secret keeper of your very secret tryst with Rafe, was the one who opened the door. Though you knew she had a tendency to double cross people, so far, she hadn’t told anyone about the two of you, a possible record in her books, and you couldn’t help being thankful. As much as you hated sneaking around, there was no way John B was going to take this development in your life lightly.  

“My brother’s upstairs.” Wheezie supplied, pushing the door wide enough that you could walk through.  

“Thanks,” you skirted passed her, taking the steps two at a time and heading down the hall to Rafe’s closed door. Wheezie had decorated hers with a wooden sign and Sarah’s had a cork board on it. Rafe’s was always blank though, just a plain white door that blended in with everything else in the hallway.  

You didn’t bother knocking on the door, pushing it open. Rafe was laying on his bed, eyes fixed on his phone, the sound of the stereo playing some R&B song you weren’t entirely familiar with. When the door opened, he turned his head to the side, confused for a split second before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side.  

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” He asked, already reaching his hand out to pull you closer as you walked over to him. He grabbed the zipper of your hoodie and tugged, getting you to step between his legs.  

“John B’s surfing with Pope and JJ’s still at work so I figured I’d sneak out and come over. See how you rich folk are faring in this storm.” You teased.  

He hummed, nodding, as he placed his hands on your hips. “Your concern is overwhelming,” he laughed, tilting his head up so that you would lean forward and kiss him. You complied, placing your hands on the sides of his face as you did. When you pulled away, he smiled, “you should stay over.”

“My brother will freak out if he gets home and I’m gone.” You replied, stepping away from Rafe just so that you could climb on his bed, pushing his phone away to make yourself comfortable.  

Rafe opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and shaking his head, going with a simple, “I doubt he’ll notice.”

“That a massive storm is slamming into the coast and his sister is missing from the house at the peak of it? Give my brother a little more credit babe, he’ll notice that I'm gone.” You replied.  

“Then tell him you’re here and you’ll see him in the morning.” Rafe said, turning to face you. He put his hands on your ankles as if he was grounding you there, “You know this sneaking around thing is shit.”  

Whenever Rafe wanted you to do something that you didn’t particularly want to do, like stay the night at his house or go somewhere that someone might see you, he always claimed to think that sneaking around was shit. A circumstance of the relationship that he hated when it was convenient to him, you knew as well as he did that admitting to anyone that you were dating was something neither of you had the luxury of doing.  

“I can’t, he’ll freak out.” You replied, “this is just...a difficult time for him and he doesn’t need any new issues.”

Rafe fell back onto the bed, turning his head to look at you, “he’s 16, he doesn’t need you to hold his hand through every little thing.”

“I’m not ‘holding his hand’ Rafe, he’s my little brother, I’m worried about him.” You reasoned.

“Yeah, maybe, but here you are. Every free moment you get you spend here...this isn’t just an escape when you don’t feel like dealing with your brother and his antics. You know John B and his friends aren’t my favorite people but I’ve kept my mouth shut about them. I think the least you could do is be honest with yourself...I know you want to tell him, you wouldn’t have come here in the middle of the storm-”

“I wanted to see how you guys were doing.”

“Bullshit.” Rafe replied, “you know it’s getting worse out there and there’s no fucking way I’m letting you drive back to the cut in this weather.”  

You sighed, you had known that Rafe wouldn’t let you leave once you got here. They were already advising people to stay inside and not leave the house when you decided to drive to the eight, there was no way it was safe to be out. And there was no way Rafe was going to let you risk your safety driving all over the island because John B might get upset that you weren’t home.  

“I know.”  

“So text him, tell him you’re staying at a friend’s.” Rafe urged, “it doesn’t have to be my house...you can tell him that when you’re ready.” he conceded.  

“I’ll tell him soon. I don’t like sneaking around,” you admitted, pulling your phone from your pocket and texting John B that you had gone to a friend’s house for the night and would be home once the storm passed. You sent a mirrored text to JJ, in case he was already at the Chateau, before laying your phone on the nightstand. “I don’t want us to be a secret...it’s just, complicated.”

“I know, trust me.” Rafe sat up, scooting closer to you on the bed so that he could kiss you. Keeping this secret forever was impossible, you’d have to come clean soon and Rafe was right, you had been handling John B with kid gloves ever since you had found out that your dad was dead. Telling him you were dating a kook, and Rafe at that, was an unavoidable conversation that you had been trying not to have for the past year almost. And every time you stepped out of the house you considered telling him all over again. Eventually you’d give, but it didn’t have to be tonight.  

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 17

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 17

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2203

Summary: Milwaukee’s finest African dream root gets put to the test.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing; it’s so nice to finally take angst out of these warnings

           You’re walking up the stairs from the bar basement with a six pack in your hand—it’s a raspberry beer from a microbrewery you’ve only had once in Pennsylvania, years ago. There’s no way you’d be able to stock it in northern Wisconsin, and ironically that makes you realize you’re in a dream faster than hearing Sam and Dean talking at the bar top.

           “Look who decided to show up!” Dean smiles, ready affection spreading over his face like warm butter. He’s sitting on a stool like a patron, a few fingers of scotch in a glass in front of him where Sam stands behind the bar. You can feel yourself beaming as you cross over to them, setting the cold six pack out between you. It feels natural to slip into the space under Sam’s arm like you do so often here serving customers together but you stop short of it, instead grabbing one of the bottles and pivoting so it looks like you were trying to grab the bottle opener out of his back pocket all along. He raises his elbow to give you better access, letting you slip it back into the denim without touching him.

           When you look up, Dean still has those gooey caramel eyes trained on you. “You look good, kid. What’re you drinking?”

           “What’re you drinking, that’s all you have to ask?” you giggle, hopping up to sit on the bar. “No ‘how are you both here, what’s going on?’ none of that?” For your part you’re practically exploding with gratitude that Sam’s long shot worked.

           “We’ve been waiting on you for a minute, Jolly Green Giant over here gave me the scoop. So what’re you drinking?”

           You hand the bottle you’ve opened to Sam and grab another. “It’s a raspberry lambic from Pennsylvania. From what I remember, it might’ve been my favorite beer ever.”

           Dean raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Well, come toast me with that Juicy Juice.” You and Sam both touch the lips of your bottles to his glass, and the smile on Sam’s face is as smooth and effortless as chiffon floating off a tropical cabana. “I got my brother, my girl, my car, and a few fingers of single-malt, this is perfect. To Sammy’s big ole brain and the beauty of dream root.” Something about that rings a bell in an even deeper part of your mind and you don’t take a sip right away until a vision of Dean flashes, holding two plastic trays piled high with burgers and fries. Dean winks as he finishes his glass. “Did you two get any better at pool since I’ve been gone?”

           Playing pool with Sam and Dean in a bar—in your bar, with the dent in the paneling behind Dean where the table is a little too close to the wall—is as comfortable as if you’d never stopped, that there isn’t this giant hole not being acknowledged. Sam ribs Dean when he makes a shot his big brother missed and blocks fast when Dean tries to jab him in the ribs with a pool cue in retaliation, smiling through the horse play. You wipe a stealthy tear out of the corner of your eye and take another sip of lambic; you can’t think of anything more beautiful than watching the Winchesters goof off like this, are already starting to miss it as it happens in front of you, and then you feel stupid and wasteful for being so prematurely nostalgic that you can’t enjoy it. When you look back up having collected yourself, Sam floats a delicate hand to your back. “You okay?”

           “Yeah, sorry, just all kind of got to me for a second.”

           His eyebrows twist in concern and he looks over to Dean, exchanging a look you can’t quite read and even that you’ve missed so much you have to hold your breath for a moment to keep it together. “Let’s, uh, let’s get out of here,” Sam suggests, laying his cue down on the felted table.

           Dean nods almost imperceptibly before grinning wide. “Yeah, why don’t you knuckleheads show me the rest of this town?”

           Sitting in the backseat of the Impala is just right for the mile or two it takes to get ‘downtown’—as far as those 7 businesses on a main street rural enough not to have curbs can be called a downtown—and when Dean opens the back door it’s with an outstretched hand for you to get out into the parking lot of the hardware store. “It’s not really going to be the same without all the people,” you offer, taking his callused fingers in yours and standing up.

           “Babe, you have people in your dreams all the time.”

           “Yeah, but not like real people, not like you or Sam.”

           “You haven’t explained all this stuff to her yet?” Sam asks, incredulous over the top of the Impala as he walks around to you and Dean.

           “We’ve been, uh, busy,” Dean says lasciviously, waggling his eyebrows and not reacting when you shove him in the chest.

           “Dude, gross.” Sam’s little brother reflexes show themselves to be intact once again.

           “That’s not what your girlfriend said last night.” It almost makes you panic with surprise, that blatant acknowledgement of the situation, but neither Dean nor Sam seem to pay it too much mind, already moving on to the next thought. You get the sense—as you always did—that they’re still able to communicate without speaking, but who knows? Their time together, Sam’s dreams, even the time that it took you to find them in this dream, is theirs. If they’re comfortable joking then maybe you should be also; you’re the one who gets to have your cake and eat it too. It conflicts with your current strategy of ignoring the deeper element to both your relationships, pretending like the present predicament is no different than before you started dating Dean, platonic and jocular all around. In any case you’ll be damned if you ruin the unbelievable joy of this moment by harping on awkwardness.

           Sam rolls his eyes at Dean and turns to you. “It’s about how well you know people. Someone you know really well, your mind will be able to project what they would or wouldn’t do in a given situation or context. If you only know them sort of tangentially it’ll be harder for your mind to guess, so you might start to get like, repeat phrases or whatever. Think animatronics.” You probably look as confused as you feel and you can see the cogs of Sam’s mind turning rapidly to try to find another way to explain. “Okay, so take Diane, right? You know her enough that she might show up in a dream, but you probably don’t really know her motivations or mannerisms really well, personal history outside of those pictures of her grandkids she’s always showing? In a dream she’d probably only be there for a while, to get you from one thought to another, so if we go in right now and talk to her for hours and hours, she’ll probably start repeating stuff: sentences, facts, whatever.”

           “Sounds a little Island of Misfit Toys to me,” you grimace, beginning to feel a little queasy.

           “More like Westworld,” Sam suggests, opening the door. “This is, uh, the hardware store? Not really sure what you’re wanting to see, Dean.”

           Dean is strolling down the center of the small shop, head ducking into each aisle like he’s looking for something specific but doesn’t know where it is. He picks up a package of Red Vines, opens it, and tears into one like a lion with a chunk of sinew before continuing his walk. There’s a degree of wonder in his eyes that you wouldn’t have expected; the hardware store is just like any other you’ve ever been in except smaller and with more of the bits and bobs that shops in little towns tend to have.

           “Sweetie, would you like me to ring those up for you?” The voice comes from up ahead, behind the cash register where Diane has appeared. It sounds entirely kind and helpful but you know she’s gently chastising Dean for opening the package without paying. Sam can hear it too and smiles conspiratorially at you before walking to catch up with his brother, grabbing the candy out of his hands and tossing it on the counter to get out his wallet.

           “I can get them.”

           “Oh, Sam, I didn’t see you there! Look at you, Johnny on the spot. How’ve you been, honey?” She’s ostensibly ringing him up but her eyes are roaming all over Sam’s body hungrily, enough to make him blush.

           “Uh, fine. Just hanging around, you know.”

           Dean sidles up next to Sam and shoots out a hand to Diane. “I’m Dean, Sam’s brother.”

           “Pleasure to meet you, Dean. Diane,” she answers, her handshake as warm and no-nonsense as she is, but she only takes her eyes off Sam for half a second to address him. It should be your first hint that something’s up when Dean seems smug at the almost-diss rather than annoyed. Sam finishes the transaction and presses the licorice flat into Dean’s chest as he turns back toward the two of you and the exit. You have to hustle a little to keep up with his long strides.

           “Dude, come on, that’s hardly fair,” he says, low and trying for serious but there’s some playfulness in his tone.

           “I just wanted to see what she was thinking,” he chuckles around a bite of licorice, following Sam down the road to one of the burger joints. “Lucky you.”

           “Diane? Why do you care about the cashier at the hardware store?” you ask.

           “Kid, I want to know everything about your lives. Hardware stores included.”

           Sam rolls his eyes at his brother again and smiles, annoyed and maybe a touch shy. “You, uh, you don’t know Diane well enough to recreate her in your mind, but you know that she, uh, she knows me, right? So the way she acts toward me in your dream is the way you think people must act toward me in real life.”

           You’re getting tired of feeling confused and out of the loop. Dean interjects, “If your projection of Gramma Goodwrench has the hots for Sammy, then you must think chicks are falling all over him.”

           The heat rising in your cheeks makes you sheepish for a second before you realize the futility of it. Yet again, if Sam and Dean are willing to treat this like something to be joked about you can let them lead the way. “Whatever, you guys are a pain in my ass. Are we eating or what?”

           You end up walking through town for a while, going into all the tiny nooks and crannies of the places you spend any amount of time in, decidedly trying to keep the boys from talking to anyone for too long. Dean takes it in like it’s fascinating, a 6 year old at Disney World for the first time, asking all kinds of questions and doing goofy things like trying out different stools, looking into every bathroom stall to really understand the full scope of it all. After a while he gets hungry but wants to go back to the cabin, so you grab groceries that would normally be impossible to find in the local grocery store—there’s a perk—and head home. Sam gives Dean directions to your house, which feels odd, like some kind of reverse deja vu.

           You have an idea. Tapping Sam’s shoulder and leaning forward to put your head between the boys’, you think maybe it’s not something you want to do, that you don’t want to share Sam and Dean together again. But if Dean wants to see your life, they’re the closest relationships you have. “Do you, um, do you think I know the Kaisers well enough that you’re not going to be able to Vulcan mind control me or whatever?”

           Sam looks over his shoulder back at you, curious and sweet as a gentle smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, I bet you do. What’re you thinking?”

           “Maybe we could go to theirs for dinner? If it’s a—”

           He reads your mind. “They’ll have something, you’re right. Dean, what do you think?”

           “Guess who’s coming to dinner! It’s just past you guys?”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 18

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[archangeldraws]

Reunion

Since some were so interested in the story of King Ghidorah and their human Eva, this is their story. Please, enjoy (also give me feedback as I don’t usually write stories ^^)

A King Ghidorah fanfiction 

Dorat AU

„Wake up. Come on Ni, wake up boy. Time for walkies!“ A soft voice rings through the air, tickling Ni's ear. The Dorat stirs, sleepily opening one eye and looking around the living room. “Come on Ni-Ni! Don't you want to go outside?” His gaze falls upon a young human girl, standing by the door, hastily putting on her shoes and leashes on two other Dorats like him. His brothers watch him, waiting for him to move. Ni yawns, stretching his golden wings and climbs off the comfortable couch he was sleeping on, trotting over to his master.

She smiles, putting a red collar and leash on the third Dorat, giving him a pet on his fluffy head. “Good boy. Lets go!”

It's a sunny day today, the air is crisp and fresh. It's spring! Eva, their little master, loves this season the most. And they love seeing her happy.

The walk is the same as always. Passing by the same houses, going down the same streets, towards the park.

The park is great. It's big, big enough to stretch their wings and fly around all they want and play.

San, the youngest Dorat loves visiting the park. He's always so eager, flapping up and down, back and forth, almost crashing into his brothers and trilling happily.

Unlike their older brother Ichi, who glides gracefully through the air, looking down on all the passerby.

At the park, Eva lets her Dorats fly free and unzips her backpack, pulling out their toys, a blanket and some drinks and snacks.

Everything is great. They play, enjoy the sunshine and food. Master brought those fish crackers they like.

Ni is chasing another Dorat, a brown one, around the park. That one dared to take a toy! That thief! That one will pay!

A shriek pierces the air, disrupting the chase. Perplexed, Ni looks back. Master?

He watches in horror as a dog, a filthy beast, is attacking Eva. That thing dares to harm HIS MASTER?!

In a rage Ni races towards that monster, flying as fast as he can, not stopping for a second. He doesn't even notice Ichi and San also trying to get in between the girl and the dog.

Ni crashes into the foul beast, bearing his teeth and snarling. The thing yelps, rolling on the ground after the collision. The Dorat, though a bit smaller than the wild dog, put himself between the animal and the girl.

San and Ichi stay with Eva, hissing and screeching angrily, not moving from her side as she weeps and cries in pain, a puddle of blood already forming around her leg on the ground.

Ni growls, daring the dog to move. Do it! Come on! I'll tear you limp from limp!

Not that the dog would have understood it anyway.

In a flash the animal was upon Ni, biting and snapping at him. But Ni isn't afraid. All he sees is red. He bites and claws at it, chomping down on the beasts neck and shaking violently. Ni himself gets thrown around, bitten and scratched. It doesn't matter. He doesn't even feel it. Ni snaps at the soft neck of his opponent, biting and shaking him over and over. The dog screams, letting go of the smaller Dorat and jumps back. In a defiant stance, Ni stays between it and the girl. He growls. And finally his enemy yields and runs.

“NI! OH MY GOD! NIII!! NO!”

Ni turns, Eva approaches him with a limp and she wraps her arms around him.

“Ni! You're hurt! Oh my god, your ear! Your eye!”

A few hours later, Ni wakes up again. Was it a dream? He is in his bed, but something is blocking his view. Why can't he open his left eye? What is that thing?

“Be still, brother. Don't move. You need to heal.” Who is that? Oh, right. It's Ichi. Ichi looks down from his spot at the wall. He likes sitting there. San comes rushing to Ni's side, gently grooming him in a comforting manner. “Are you ok? That fight was really bad! You were lucky you didn't lose your eye, Ni!”

Fight? Oh, yes. Right. That dog. But, what about Eva? Is she ok? Ni looks around the bedroom, trying to see past that weird, round thing around his head. There she is. On the bed. “Ni. You're awake? I'm so glad you're ok!” She smiles, walking towards him and petting him, carefully stroking his back fur.

“The vet said you were really lucky! That dog almost got your eye with it's teeth. But your ear wasn't as lucky, half of it is missing.... Oh Ni, you were so brave! Thank you! I was so scared!”

She quivers, wiping off the tears from her soft, round face.

“You're my hero!”

Ni, not wanting to see her cry leans into her small hand and purrs reassuringly.

“You were hurt.” “It's ok, my leg is better now. Don't worry, everything is ok now. See?” She grins, showing hims her bandaged leg. “Rest now. You'll get a big treat later, ok? You're a good boy, Ni. I love you”

I love you

I love you

I love you....

Ni groans, opening his eyes and stretching his long, powerful neck. Groggily he looks around, spotting his brothers by his side. They've curled up around each other, still sleeping.

As always. Ni, first one to wake up and last one to fall asleep. He hates sleeping. Not sure when it started, but it's been a long time. Sleep brings dreams, memories he'd rather not see.

And now he has to wait for Ichi and San to wake. He sighs, keeping look out. Ni isn't known for being the patient one, but he can be. Not that he has much of a choice. It's not like he could just, get up and walk around. Not anymore. He could wake Ichi. A good bunt in the head would do. But that would also mean getting bit in the snout and right now he wasn't in the mood for a fight. Usually, yeah. But not right now.

His mood was too sour for that.

“Good morning Ni!” San has risen from his slumber and yawns, stretching and rubbing his head against his big brother in a greeting. “Did you sleep well?” Ni sighs. “Same as usual. You?” “Uhm.... I guess so. Got enough sleep at least.”

Ni wasn't the only one plagued by bad memories. San's weren't just memories. They were nightmares. Nightmares that had happened.

Sometimes the youngest brother would wake up screaming and thrashing during the night, begging to be “let out” and biting if you came too close. Ichi and Ni would have to subdue him together, just until the left head would calm down again.

Poor guy had been through a lot. They all have been. But it seems fate has been more cruel to the younger one. He had lost his head, quite literally, many times. Each time he lost more and more of his happy go lucky attitude, if only slowly.

But since that fat lizard had ripped him off last.... They know the memories. They weren't there, but San shared what had happened to him with them, after they reformed that last time.

Last time.... Was the worst. Things are a bit confusing, since they regenerated from a dead head, from a brain that had been dead for some time. They knew their old version had fought on, but their memories stopped after San's death, only to resurface once the humans did something to his brain, feeding him with the energy needed to come back to life.

They know of the pain and fear San had endured, being nothing but a thought in his own mind. Again. Again humans tried to control them, their minds, making them their toys!

But San didn't share everything with them, that they knew... Or they would know of the things he dreamed about and woke from, screaming for help.

They also heard what had happened to their old self. That that one was completely destroyed by the “King” of the monsters, with the help of his Queen.

It is weird to know that you did something, without being there yourself... Never before have they been.... two Ghidorahs. Can they even call it that? Are they themselves even real? Or just a copy?

They know each time a head dies, it grows back with all it's memories. But there had never been a time where.... They had to regenerate their whole being. Until now....

Ichi wakes, shifting and yawning before looking at San and Ni.

“How long have you two been awake?” “Oh hey Ichi, good morning. Not long yet. How was your night?” San smiles at the middle head, greeting him like he greeted Ni with a head rub.

“Luckily, uneventful. Full night rests have become rare” “Yeah.... sorry about that.” “Don't be, San. It's not your fault... Well, now that we're up, let's get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

With that, Ghidorah rose to their feet and walked out of the cave they had carved themselves some time ago. After they had regenerated, they had traveled the world for a while, not knowing what to do with themselves. They were thinking of going after Godzilla again, but..... They were just tired. So they made themselves a small home, if you could call it that, on monster island. They had made an agreement with Godzilla. While they would never yield and submit to him, they promised to stay out of his way and leave the humans alone. As long as they didn't destroy anything, they could be at piece.

Or at least by left alone. And the other Titans did leave them alone.

Wherever they went, the other Kaiju would run and hide. No one dared to try and talk with them.

Except for Godzilla, who would sometimes pass by and check if they still hold their part of the deal.

Sometimes Rodan would come and try to talk with them. That firebird is a huge chatterbox.

Right now Ghidorah made their way down the mountain they had made their cave in, living high above the others, where they had a good view over the island.

“Brothers, look there. A boat” Ni and Ichi look towards the sea, where San was pointing at. “Ugh, humans.... Those pests. They better not think about stepping on this island!” “Calm down brother. What do we care what they do? As long as they leave us alone, I don't give a crap.” Ichi snorts, moving their body down and to the other side of the mountain.

They walk towards a lake and San has a little drink. They don't really NEED to drink and eat, but it's a nice treat and it gives them something to do. One of the few things they can still enjoy, since destroying and conquering is now off the table. At least for now.

Ni looks at his reflection. It's him. But it's also not.

Gone is the round face and the big eyes, gone is the little snout and ears. Gone is the fur on his head and back.

Instead there is a long, strong snout, filled with rows of sharp teeth. His eyes are beady and red and his head adorned with jagged horns, sharp and deadly. Everything on them is sharp and deadly.

But the scar is still there.

He remembers, like in his dream. The scar that made him unique, a hero in that little girl's eyes.

But she's gone now, long dead.

Why is the scar still there? They can heal. And it was gone. But he made it again. For some reason, even though he wants to forget.... He scars himself over and over again, each time it heals, he takes one of their spiked tails to his face and draws blood. He's done it many time, he knows exactly where to cut, how to cut it. Each time a perfect copy.

And his horn. The second horn on the left, he always breaks it off. Where half his ear used to be.

Ichi keeps a look out, watching the smaller kaiju hiding in the shadows of the trees, waiting for them to leave and have a drink.

As they should. Useless lot, they are beneath them. Look at them quivering, shaken to their very core by their fear, Ghidorah's presence almost crushing them like little worms.

Ichi has always enjoyed looking down on others. Since he was a cup, he'd find the highest places and sit there, watching the others. He's always been more cruel than his brothers, that's just who he is. Not that he doesn't know how to be compassionate. He loves his brothers.

Sure, he reprimands them often, especially Ni, as he likes to act up and square off with Ichi.

But he still cares. And he'd do anything to protect them.

Once he cared for someone else. A little someone, though bigger than them at the time, but so small and fragile.

Somehow she made him want to protect her. To love her. And he did. He loved and protected and cared and vowed to stay forever-.... Until forever was over.

Gone were the good days, the days filled with happiness and love and care. Replaced with fear and pain and numbness instead.

They were like her. But they were not like her. Not soft and sweet and loving and warm. No high voices carrying nothing but goodness to his ear but instead, cries and screams and yells of malice and horror and the stench of rotting flesh and dry blood.

Their new “masters” were nothing like her. They never gave them the feeling of being safe. Only fear. Only pain. Only rage!

And then.... Nothing. Sleep without dreams, dreams without sleeping. Moving but unmoving.

Pain but no feeling.

And then they woke up. They woke at a cold place, nothing but ice and piercing cold and blinding white. No humans in sight. No... Her..... Alone. They were alone. And they were one.

They knew they were, have been for long. But now that they were awake, it was strange. Having to learn how to move again.

And the urge.... The urge to.... kill... destroy.... It was ebbed into their mind so deep, into their very core.... All they could think about was “Find Godilla. Kill him. Destroy him. Kill. Destroy. Kill. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy destroy destroy destroydestroydestroyde-....”

The thought was still there, once jackhammering in their head, now a soft drumming... They had found Godzilla. But that one was not the same they knew now. That one fought long and hard, made them weak and trapped them in the ice, where they had awoken the first time. And they slept.

And now.... The same thing. They found Godzilla, a different one, fought and lost again. Were killed this time and somehow they came back.

You'd think knowing that you were able to cheat death like this would make you stronger, would make you want to try again.... And maybe they will, one day. But now they're just tired....

“Hello?.... Are you there?” They look up. “Yes? What is it?” San looks to Ichi. “I didn't call you.” They look at Ni. “Wasn't me” “Can you hear me?”

Confused they look around. Was it one of them? One of the small ones hiding in the shadows?

“What do you want?” Ichi growls at the trees and the little kaiju skitter away quickly.

“It's me. I'm here.”

“Who the fuck is calling us?! Who is it?” They stand and Ni snarls and snaps at nothing.

“Come to me. I'm here. Are you there?”

“What the fuck?” Ichi grows more and more irritated, looking around but seeing no one.

“Come find me. Were you waiting?”

“Ichi.... I think it's coming from there.” San points back at the ocean again. Is it a water Titan? Manda perhaps?

“I swear if that snake is out making a fool of us then we'll have it for breakfast!”

“Good idea Ichi, sound delicious!”

They follow the voice, down to the shore. They don't see Manda, but the human boat is still there.

��Ohoh, it's the humans! It must be them. Of course. Why am I not surprised?”

“Wouldn't be the first time, Ni.” “Should we kill them?” “We can't, Godzilla-” “I know San, I know! But he never said we can't defend ourselves. If they try to attack us, it's free game!”

“My sweets....” They freeze. What did they just call them? No one ever called them that but-... No. No, she's gone.

“Can't you hear me? Please answer me. Remember our promise? I promised I'd come find you”

No... No, no no no, no! It's not true! This is a trick! They are tricking us!

San leans closer, looking down at the boat and the humans on board.

“Ichi... Ni... San.... Do you remember me?”

They stare. They stare at the human woman with the dark hair and eyes. The eyes they know, the eyes they only see in their dreams.

“It's her!” Sam rears ups, shocked and confused. It's her. She's back! She's come!

“Ichi, Ni, it's her! It's her! Master!” “NO! Get a grip San, it isn't!” Ichi roars, staring down at San. “This is a trick, clearly!”

“But-”

Ichi doesn't believe, doesn't trust. Ni wants to believe, wants to trust. San believes, San trusts.

San bends down again, trying to reach the boat, he needs to see her, smell her, touch her. “Master!”

“NO!” Ichi snaps, he grabs San by the scruff of his neck and pulls him away. They stagger, their body, twitching. The heads fight.

Middle tries to dominate left, biting and power grooming him into submission. Usually San would yield, but not this time. He rises, roaring at his brother in fury.

“STOP IT ICHI! It is her, I know it!”

“IT CAN'T BE SAN, SHE IS DEAD!” They are torn apart, feeling an array of feelings.

Yes! No! Want! Don't! Believe! Fear! Trust! Rage! Can't be! It is!

“STOP!!”

They stop. Ichi and San look at Ni. He glares at them. Is this what happens when they see a glint of what had been? It tears them apart just like this? How weak have they become, how low have they fallen?

“Brothers.... Please.... Who else could talk with us like that?” San pleads at Ichi and Ni, lowering his head. His eyes displaying nothing but sadness.

“Our connection is still there... After all this time, all those years our link is still strong. Who else but her could speak with us? Who else knows the names she gave us?”

All three heads turn to look back at the boat. The humans, pointing their weak little weapons at them, stare, waiting for them to move.

Except the woman. She stands at the railing, tears in her eyes, her face contorted as if in pain.

“Please, don't fight... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I promised you, remember? That I would find you, no matter what. I said I would come. And I am here now, my sweets.... Please forgive me....”

She cries. No humans ever cried for them but....

“Eva...?”

Her head snaps back up so fast, you could almost hear it crack. Ghidorah leans down towards the boat, all three heads until their noses almost touch it.

They look at her. The face, the scar of the dog bite on her leg. The way she smiles. They smell her.

Like spring. She smells like spring. Like her favorite season. And fish crackers. She reaches out, placing her soft, small hand on Ichi's snout and smiles that smile that sings of love and happy memories.

“I'm sorry.... Did you wait long?”

[bnhayyy]

Mark of Divergence

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Wordcount: 4.8k

Ao3 Link: Click

Summary: As the alliance sits around the bonfire, Bertolt reminisces on how they ended up there - and worries about what a particular person will do going forward.

Notes: Soulmark colors do have meaning for this au. If you’re curious and don’t want to puzzle it out yourself, feel free to check out this post for reference. This fic was written for day 3 (and lowkey day 2) of @aot-au-week! It is dedicated to @elderkale and @cookietonwrites, with thanks to Celadon for betaing!

Bertolt can't help but be unnerved by soulmarks.

It isn't the concept itself that makes him uncomfortable. The thought that people can fit together so well that they are intrinsically tied is kinda sweet. (Except for the occasions when it isn't.) It's the power that they hold - the way they influence people by spelling certain bonds out for those who might otherwise take too long to realize them. And, as he sits by the bonfire, eyeing the alliance that has formed to stop the man once deemed humanity's best hope, the effects are almost visible.

A soulmark is what made Ymir decide to turn back.

*

For a moment, it looked like she had given up, but when she looked at the rose-gold crown at the back of her hand, something changed. Bertolt would never pretend to know what goes on in Ymir's mind at any given moment, but if he had to guess, it reminded her that even if she feels weighed down by her cosmic debt, she still has something to live for.

...He can understand why she came close to forgetting in the first place. For a long time, he had assumed that the crown had been her only mark. Then at Shiganshina, they received a brutal reminder of what they were up against when, despite everything, they were nearly wiped out at the hands of Zeke, Pieck, and a furiously powerless Porco, with just a handful of Marleyan soldiers and artillery and their disposal. Scouts died, and Bertolt supposed he was selfish in that, for all that their trust in him was still highly tenuous at best, he was grateful that none of his former classmates were among them. But he was. He was grateful even though scouts still died and Commander Erwin himself was so badly injured that he had to retire.

Ymir wasn't there though. She was back within Wall Sina, the soulmate of the queen. She acted unbothered, but he could see the shadows of guilt behind her eyes when he saw her next. He wonders if that is why their pointless conversation had somehow evolved into her confessing that she had many more marks, across her shoulders and chest, but they were hard to see, having faded into the light silver of ghost marks more than sixty years ago.

Now, he wonders which has had more influence on her being there with them; the rose-gold crown on her hand, or the silver scars cast across her chest.

*

Soulmarks made it easier to convince Reiner to go with him when he suggested that they surrender.

*

They were supposed to be loyal to Marley. They weren't supposed to care about the island devils. Yet Reiner was all but riddled with marks that matched theirs, and Bertolt... Bertolt didn't want to see anyone else die. He didn't want anyone else to die and he himself wanted to live. In those moments, he realized that he held a painful, desperate desire to live, and even with his true identity known, he knew that he had a better shot with the “devils” of Paradis than the "heroes" of Marley. So he'd tried to persuade Reiner, and the marks burning his skin like a brand meant that it wasn't very hard.

He doesn't think Reiner has ever truly forgiven him for convincing him, the knowledge of what his betrayal would have meant for his family hanging over his head with every waking moment. But that's fine. After all, Bertolt never apologized.

...He used to wonder why he doesn’t share any sort of soulmark with Reiner. He had hoped that he might turn out to share one with Annie, but when he found out about the bright red crystal she shares with Armin, he realized that it had been hopeless all along. Reiner hadn't been like that though. Where Annie kept her marks close to her chest, Reiner willingly shared his, so Bertolt knew that they didn't share a mark and was perplexed as to why.

It became more apparent after their uneasy return to the scouts. Their identities being known made Bertolt more aware of his own than ever, but not having to keep that secret anymore also had some effect. Getting to live, even if only because they were more useful alive than dead at first, had an effect. The newly-installed queen ordering them to repay their debts to society by serving the scouts for the rest of their short lives had an effect. Bertolt had straightened his shoulders, bore the looks, and found reasons to continue on. Reiner was a different story.

Bertolt had been moving forward with the painful understanding that even if they lived, Reiner would have suffocated under the weight of his guilt if they went back to Marley. What he didn't expect was that it would come for him anyway. The difference was that his surroundings reminded him of what he had done rather than his guilt-ridden memories, and the fate of his family became a new weight on his conscience. For a long time, Bertolt would catch him shooting glances at the golden footprint on his arm, his confusion over it still being there fading into sick understanding as the weeks slipped by.

Where Bertolt found a new will to live, Reiner's death wish began to dog him like a second shadow. He never vocalized it, but he didn't need to. It became more and more apparent as the days passed, with the way he just took any harsh word said to him and the way reckless, sacrificial moves started to add up. Everyone knew by the time Historia was crowned queen. Bertolt wanted to help, but he didn't know how. He had already struggled to handle Reiner's split personality, but this was something new and awful. He knew, logically, what was happening. Yet he couldn't understand. There was a part of him that just couldn't parse how or why they had reacted so differently, why Reiner was struggling so much when, based just on how much he had come to care for the others, switching sides should have helped him most.

It was then that Bertolt realized why he and Reiner didn't share a soulmark. They were and still are friends and comrades, but their relationship is and always has been one of circumstance. In another lifetime, a kinder lifetime, their paths never would have passed. They were friends and comrades who never would have meant anything to each other if left to their own devices.

Bertolt was not the one to prevent Reiner from handing himself over to oblivion at the first opportunity. Instead, he was saved by the people he did share marks with, the ones he had come to care about so much that it had torn his mind in half in the first place. Historia - blue bandage - who even though they didn't talk much, remained unwavering in her order that he not be executed. Connie - purple tooth - who managed to be shockingly understanding, his own losses making it easier for him to understand the reasons for the betrayal. Jean - violet sword - full of pain and rage for the silver wings of freedom emblazoned on his shoulder blade, who had eventually cornered Reiner and furiously declared that he wasn't allowed to die after what he did; it was an easy escape that did nothing to make up for what he'd done. Even Eren - golden clasped hands - and the debt he seemed to think he owed him.

...Reiner had been the first one to realize that something was very wrong with Eren. Now, Bertolt wonders if things might have gone differently if they had listened.

*

Soulmarks make Eren's current course of action that much more inconceivable.

(How easy it can be to forget. For all of the people who alter their course of action because of one soulmark or another, there are always those who don't.)

Not all of them feel the unique weight of Eren's turn, of course. To those (still) aligned with the warrior unit, Eren is just an enemy of humanity.

(They do not see what they see. While he is just a devil to them, those who knew Eren before see a friend who has wandered so far down a terrible path that he has become near unrecognizable. They do not know that it is as heartbreaking as it is terrifying. They do not know how it stings like a betrayal even though he claims to have his reasons. It makes Bertolt wonder - if this is how they all felt, back then?)

Magath and Pieck are more focused on keeping an eye on Porco, on the risk that his vengeful rage toward Ymir and Reiner does not boil over in a way that may risk their tentative alliance.

In a way, that particular microcosm of tension is almost a relief. It is not pleasant, but the way the old hurt and anger of the Galliard brothers threatens to reach across the groups helps distract at least some of them. Reiner frets and flutters, always keeping some degree of distance between himself and everyone else, while the people he never expected to actually give him a second chance shoot him concerned looks. Ymir is similarly distanced from everyone, although it is with the ease of someone who has not spent any significant time with them in over a year. She garners less worried looks from the scouts than Reiner, and certainly less hateful glares from Porco, but she does get far more uncertain looks from Pieck and Magath. Even Yelena seems unsure of what to make of the woman who got her titan by pure chance.

The children hover at the edge of this drama. Specifically, Gabi hesitantly hovers by Sasha, visibly comfortable inserting herself back amongst the warrior unit after all that has happened, but also not ready to forgive Reiner and uncertain of who else to attach herself to, and Falco hovers close to Gabi. They are another matter entirely, another story tied up in soulmarks and world-shattering realizations.

*

None of them should have been surprised. Sasha has a history of difficult soulmates.

It didn't start that way. Connie and Jean's blue marks are fairly straightforward, and even if it's a little surprising that she's rumored to share a third with the reclusive Mikasa Ackerman, it isn't shocking or problematic. They started growing to be more of an issue after she met the girl represented by the golden farmhouse on her bicep. Although her bond with Kaya seemed fairly straightforward, their first meeting sounded outright traumatic. The blue leaf that represented Reiner gained a new weight after a certain point in time, but the shock was dulled by the knowledge that four of her comrades also shared marks with him.

No, Niccolo was the one that really threw expectations and preconceived notions to the wind. The discovery that her fiery red frying pan correlated to a Marleyan prisoner of war was an "exciting" incident for everyone involved. But even after that whole fiasco was resolved, the meaning of the long golden mark running along Sasha’s cheekbone remained a mystery. Its shape was seemingly nonsensical - some sort of combination of an axe and a gun. At that point in time, Bertolt had never seen anything like it, let alone met anyone with an identical mark.

There had been three among their ranks with mysterious gold marks at the time. Sasha, with her weird hybrid weapon, Reiner, with his footprint, and Levi, who the former 104th had been shocked to discover had two - a flower on one shoulder and a teacup on the other. Soon after that, Bertolt had overheard Sasha excitedly wonder if her and Reiner’s gold mark might be the same person, if they might be one of Levi’s as well. Jean had told her that she was talking nonsense, that he couldn’t think of anyone who needed three separate guide marks.

That was before they met the girl made to bear the weight of Reiner’s betrayal.

...Turning against Marley hadn't been an easy decision. Bertolt had understood the repercussions that Reiner's family would face - it is why he didn't and still doesn't blame him for any seed of resentment that may have been planted in the aftermath. It is why, as he trudged back to the scouts, uncertain of if he would live or die, he found himself praying that his father had peacefully passed away during the mission. But knowing the consequences of your actions and seeing them first-hand are different things entirely.

Ymir chose to turn back because of her soulmate. Bertolt decided to surrender because they were doomed without her, and because allowing the armored titan to Marley would only mean more suffering for the people he could not deny he had come to love, he had been able to convince Reiner to do the same. Because Reiner had surrendered, his family had been sent to paradise.

But they were not the only ones capable of pulling the threads of fate. Rumor had it that Zeke Yaeger had once been a promising young cadet in a difficult situation. And when he looked at the girl whose fate was nearly sealed by her cousin's actions, despite the differences in their situations, Bertolt theorized that he saw a similarity. Or maybe it wasn't as sentimental as that. Maybe merely saw an opportunity. Whatever the case, the outcome was the same, a story shakily breathed out by a shell-shocked young girl as she watched the hybrid weapon marked across her forearm flicker with intermittent hues of silver and coal. He reached out to the girl and offered an opportunity - work for Marley, earn her place as one of their warriors, and prove that she was not like her cousin. Redeem her family's good name from beyond the grave.

So Bertolt and Reiner became Paridisians in all but name, and Gabi Braun became a creature of fury.

Fury. It isn't surprising that that is all she felt when Paradis came knocking on Liberio's door and killed droves of innocents, including two of her only companions. All because the scouts discovered too late that they couldn't actually control the devil known as Eren Jaeger. He cannot blame her for seeing red and breaking onto their ship. For all the horror of the moment, he cannot blame her for taking fire on the first islander she spotted.

Even after hearing it from her own mouth, it still feels like a stroke of luck great enough to near-divine intervention to know that she flinched. That she saw the unique soulmark plastered on Sasha's cheekbone, and in the same instant that Falco lunged at her, she flinched. She flinched, and although it took hours for anything to be confirmed, hours of blood and stress and fear, the bullet landed painfully, but not fatally.

For all of the propaganda drilled into her head, for all of her despair and hatred for the island of devils, almost killing your soulmate does something to you. In Gabi's case, it dulled her fury enough for her to start to listen. To witness the grief and love of the people around her, the way Marleyan Niccolo was clearly only barely restraining from taking violent action on behalf of a "devil", how, despite Falco's ardent defense of her character, he wasn't the only one insisting that no harm befall to her. It made her witness their humanity. And that, Bertolt suspects, may have made her start to consider who exactly killed her family.

She is still hesitant around most of them, more so than Falco, who, while frightened and out of his depth, is also burningly curious and has a good head on his shoulders. She refused to so much as talk to Reiner until after Zeke's attack. But she is hesitant around the Marleyans now. She also apologized to Sasha once she was stabilized enough to move, which has to count as some sort of progress.

...The soulmark makes sense now. At some point during Zeke's attack, Gabi apparently killed a titan with a gun in order to save Kaya. A delighted Sasha had declared it the mark of a "titan-killer supreme".

So, no. Now that Bertolt thinks about it, none of it is surprising. Not that Sasha shares a soulmark with the girl who almost killed her, and not the fact that of Gabi's five marks, all but Kaya's blue ribbon and Falco's purple feather are golden.

She is already starting to grow out of her fury. Although she does a remarkable job of holding herself together, because Ymir once turned back for her soulmate, because Bertolt followed her and got Reiner to come with him, because Zeke saw a similarity or an opportunity, and because Eren turned out to be the devil none of them believed he was, Gabi Braun is a broken child.

Bertolt hasn't once been able to bring himself to look her in the eyes.

*

For the rest of them, there is absolutely no escaping the larger shadow hanging over their heads. Levi is too injured for much of his face to be visible at this point, but Bertolt has seen the flickers of pain and regret across the Commander's face. He would be willing to bet that Eren has not left their mind once this entire time. (He also has no doubt that they are already set on what must be done.) Even without bandages, Levi has always been far harder to read, but he suspects that Hange's feelings are a good indicator of his own.

Armin is far worse. His countenance is someone who fears that he may be losing his best friend, who wants to cling to the hope that it might not be too late, but has already accepted the truth somewhere deep down. He and Annie have been sticking by each other's sides all through the night. Bertolt does not know how much Armin truly helps when Annie is so fresh out of her crystal and struggling with her own pains, even subtly contributing to the cloud of other tensions with her own unresolved tensions with Reiner and untouched history with Marley, but he thinks it is still good that they have each other. Even though Armin is one of the people he has found some degree of kinship with in the past years of with Scouts, he does not dare approach them.

Worst of all is Mikasa. There is a greater gulf between her and the rest of the Scouts than Reiner, Ymir, or even Bertolt can lay claim to. It makes sense that she would be further away than Reiner or Ymir, he thinks. Mikasa always held herself at a degree of distance, whereas Reiner was always social and seemed to have half of their tattered group as soulmarks besides. Ymir is a relatively distant person with only one living soulmate, but she cannot be feeling anywhere near the level of devastation that she is in at this moment. But Bertolt? He is a distant person with only a single soulmark that he does not know to correspond to any specific person. Even knowing that Eren may well be her whole world, seeing her so much further away feels wrong.

Bertolt slowly scans the crowd gathered around the fire and does not spot her. He frowns.

"Has anyone seen Mikasa?" he asks.

It’s Hange that answers, glancing up from where they have been carefully watching Levi. “She said she was going for a walk. That was a while ago though…”

Heavy silence fills the air. Bertolt is rising to his feet before he can think about it.

Armin and Jean move in the same instant. In Jean's case, it is the flinching motion of someone about to stand, but he freezes when he sees that he isn't the only one. His gaze slides from Bertolt and Armin to Reiner, then to the warrior unit, to Annie, to Ymir, and finally to the children huddled a few places down from him, before he reluctantly settles back into his seat. Armin, however, is already halfway standing. Bertolt meets his gaze and slowly shakes his head. Armin frowns and glances at the forest, but ultimately looks back at Annie and sits back down with a small nod in Bertolt's direction.

There is something haunting about the forest. It is not the threat of Yaegerists that makes him feel that way either. Rather, it is something about the night. The night and what might come with the day.

It is a relief that it does not take long to find Mikasa. She is sitting hunched at the base of a tree, her scarf tucked over her nose, gazing up at the sky through the tree's canopy.

Bertolt hesitates. It feels wrong to say anything, but even worse to walk away. He knows that she will have noticed him even if she does not show it. Even if she hasn't... it would be wrong to walk away.

Ultimately, he walks up and sits down a few paces away from her, at the base of the same tree. He pulls his legs up against his chest, wraps his arms around them, and rests his chin on his knees.

They are silent for a little while. Then, softly, she asks, "when did you know that what you were doing was wrong?"

Bertolt swallows. His gaze drops to his right ankle. It takes a little while for him to find the words, but when he does, he whispers, "Shiganshina. Right after I kicked the hole in the wall, when I looked down... that's when I knew."

*

Precious few people know about it - Former Commander Erwin, Commander Hange, and Captain Levi, because he couldn't keep any secrets from them after the truth was revealed, but also Reiner, Ymir, and presumably Historia - but Bertolt's only soulmark is on his ankle. It is a bright burgundy replica of the wall that once protected Shiganshina.

...In his time on Paradis and the years before that, he has not met anyone with a similar mark. He would suspect that his soulmate is dead, eaten or crushed to death in that initial attack, were it not for the fact that the mark has not yet turned silver.

That does not mean that he thinks there is someone out there for him. No. Instead, Bertolt has come to suspect that maybe he doesn't have a soulmate. He looks at his mark and wonders if it is possible for people to be bound to concepts, memories, moments in time. He looks at his mark and sees a warning. A grim reminder.

Perhaps it is egotistical of him to think that his mark is unique, but even so, it is the only thing he can think of. His mark isn't meant to tie him to someone or guide him to them. It is there to make sure he can never forget the worst thing he has ever done, to make sure he never does it again.

How funny, then, that it didn't even work. Just because the hole in Trost's wall was plugged doesn't mean that it was never created. He can try to do better in what little time he has left, sure, but it still happened.

...He wonders if Eren has secretly had Liberio's wall encircling his ankle this whole time. Marvels at how, if he does, it didn't stop him either.

*

Mikasa makes a slight noise. It is too faint for Bertolt to tell what it is, and he doesn't bother commenting on it, because he's well aware that they aren't actually talking about him.

Several minutes pass before she speaks again, her voice carefully neutral in the way that he knows is designed to hide pain, even if he isn't used to hearing it from her. "Why did you keep going?" she asks.

Because of Reiner, is the treacherous first thought that he doesn't say. It is needlessly cruel and doesn't apply to their situation for a variety of reasons, least of all being that if there was anything Reiner could have done to stop this, he knows that he would have in a heartbeat.

"Because I was scared of what would happen if I didn't," he says instead. "Annie was the same. And Reiner..." Bertolt hesitates, because out of the three of them, he knows that this is the one that matters.

*

Eren has never been secretive about his soulmarks. There's a reason why Reiner is his only soulmate outside of Mikasa and Armin, even if it took them this long to realize the truth.

...He's caught glimpses of the faux-scarf wrapped around Mikasa's neck beneath the real one, and it is a darker crimson than the actual fabric. The cresting blue wave on Armin's collar bone is several shades darker than it ought to be. The golden clasped hands over Reiner's heart have a black sheen in the right light.

It is possible for golden marks to be mutual rather than just one person guiding the other. Bertolt has long suspected that was the case for Eren and Reiner. However, he also assumed that Reiner's part was done after he revealed his identity. Everyone did. No one considered the alternative until the roles had already begun to reverse and it started to make a sickening sort of sense.

The signs were always there. They just didn't want to see it.

*

"I don't think Reiner realized he could stop until someone else made the decision for him," he says. "I think... If Ymir hadn't gone back, he would have kept going until someone stopped him."

And he would have been stopped, Bertolt realizes with the sudden clarity made available only by retrospect. Because he and Eren were soulmates for a reason, and if Eren's soulmarks weren't enough to prevent his betrayal of humanity, it goes to reason that it would have happened in a world without them. And Reiner never would have been able to stand by and watch as he repeated his mistakes on a much larger scale. It provides some small iota of relief to how much he has watched him struggle over the past years, because if his path was going to lead him here regardless, then at least he has had time for some of those wounds to heal before the probable end of the world.

But Eren is not Reiner. He does not appear hobbled by guilt in the way Reiner was, and no one is going to come across and commit a greater atrocity to force him back onto the right path.

"I can stop him," Mikasa says, and there is a desperate sort of hope in her voice. And Bertolt...

In that moment, Bertolt is startlingly certain that she can. He has never claimed to know Mikasa Ackerman well, but he knows that she is braver than him, stronger than him, and not truly quite as distant. Eren may well be her entire world, but he also trusts that she will not sacrifice everyone else's to protect it.

He trusts that she can and probably will be the one to stop Eren. He just doesn't trust that she will stop him the way that she hopes she can. Or maybe she will. Bertolt doesn't have any true way of knowing. But as he listens to her make her proclamation, voice vulnerable and raw in a way that he has never heard from her, he vows that he will do whatever he can to help her. Whatever the path ahead may hold.

He doesn't say that though. Instead, he remains quiet for several minutes before murmuring, "We should head back. The others will be getting worried."

For a moment, there is no response. Then he hears Mikasa begin to stand and follows suit. They walk back to camp together and do not have another private conversation until the Rumbling has been seen to its bittersweet end and all of their questions have been answered.

All but one.

*

Precious few people know it - only Armin and, once upon a time, Eren - but Mikasa Ackerman has five soulmarks.

The first is a silver scarf wrapped around her neck, once a deep crimson, now a mournful silver.

Armin's bright blue book rests on the palm of her left hand. She has never felt a need to hide it.

A cheerful blue potato rests on her stomach, and she will never tire of teasing Sasha for it.

The fact that the tiny purple paring blade hidden on the side of one of her fingers corresponds with Annie's is a secret that dies with them.

And the mark that she has spent years of her life refusing to think about or acknowledge, but is beginning to think that she may be able to address eventually.

Near the tattoo on her right wrist, where it is easily and reliably concealed, rests a bright burgundy replica of the wall that once protected Shiganshina.

[iamkidfish]

Would you be at all interested in writing a prompt based off a quote? I've been reading On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous and got destroyed by the line "sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you’ve been ruined". I feel like it's a line that works for both Leah and Fatin, and I would love to read your interpretation of it!

have a little angst this morning

Read on ao3!

It shouldn’t be a big deal. 50 days on the island. 50 days of fighting for their lives against the elements, against each other, against themselves. 

It shouldn’t be a big deal, except it is. 

50 days pass for eight girls barely surviving on an island when there should be nine.

There’s a choked sob, like someone is trying to muffle the sound, and then another and Leah wakes to the sound of Fatin crying. It surprises her more than it should, Fatin crying. She hasn’t seen Fatin cry, not at school, not on the first day, not when Fatin held Leah in her arms on the beach, not even after Nora pulled Rachel’s unconscious body from the ocean, her bloodied arm looking like it got sent through a wood chipper.

She turns over, trying to look for Fatin’s body by the shine of the moonlight. As the weeks went by, they all started sleeping closer and closer together, kind of like a group of seals on a dock, so it’s impossible to discern Fatin from the others. Shelby’s blonde hair catches Leah’s eye and she focuses in, noticing how Shelby’s left hand is gently curled around the inside of Toni’s elbow. Leah smiles, in spite of herself.

Past Shelby, Martha and Dot are curled together, with Dot lying on her back, mouth open, and Martha tucked into her side. Near them, Nora and Rachel are wrapped up so tightly Leah can’t really determine who’s body is who’s. They’ve slept like that ever since the accident and every time Leah looks at Rachel her eyes can’t help but slide down her arm to what’s left of her wrist. It’s mostly a mangled stump, but considering the limited supplies, it looks at least stable. Rachel’s been highly medicated most everyday and every few hours Dot pours their quickly depleting supply of vodka on it. 

A noise behind her makes Leah turn around. She maneuvers around their campsite, the best she can in the dark, stepping over water bottles, pieces of driftwood, even Martha’s suitcase, before she reaches Fatin. 

She’s curled tightly, more like a ball than the fetal position, and away from Leah so she can’t see her face. It’s not particularly cold out, but Fatin’s shaking. 

Leah drops to her knees, hands hovering over Fatin’s side, unsure if she can touch, then switches direction to lie behind Fatin. She tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, the ones that have been there since around day 29, as they try to flutter awake. For a second, Leah pauses before wrapping her arms around Fatin. The other girl doesn’t protest at the contact, but she also doesn’t acknowledge or lean into it, just continues shivering.

It’s hard but she tries not to notice how well their bodies fit together. They’ve slept close together before (Fatin actually has been insistent about Leah sleeping near her ever since “Leah’s second Virginia Woolf moment” as Rachel dubbed it accordingly), but never this close, with her front pressed up against Fatin’s back. They’re basically spooning. 

As if she heard Leah’s thoughts, Fatin mumbles, “I’m the little spoon. God, how embarrassing.”

She lets out a pained laugh and Leah freezes. She wasn’t expecting for Fatin to react, let directly acknowledge what’s happening. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t spooned someone before, Rilke,” Fatin’s voice cracks but still manages to have her signature teasing lilt. 

“Of course I have,” Leah says into Fatin’s shoulder, her face heating up against her will. Thank God, Fatin isn’t looking at her.

“Well then you know you have to commit,” Fatin says, moving Leah’s arm so it’s curled against Fatin’s stomach. Leah counts to 100 by 7’s twice to resist the urge of flexing her fingers against Fatin’s skin. Not the time.

Her brain blurts out the first thing she thinks of, “Ironic, how you’re talking to me about commitment.”

(Smooth Leah, real smooth)

Fatin doesn’t respond to her stupid ass comment, doesn’t talk for a long time. She is not crying as much, at least not that Leah can hear, the tears could still be falling down her face silently, she reminds herself.

“You know, my dad didn’t let me say goodbye to my brothers,” Fatin finally says. “At the airport. Didn’t even let them come, they had to stay home with my mom. He said they had ‘too much homework’ which was bullshit. School was almost over by the end of May. I knew he just didn’t want me to see them and now…”

Fatin takes a shuddering breath and dissolves into fresh sobs.

“It’s been fifty days and...and I don’t know if I’m ever going to see them again,” she hiccups. 

“Fatin you don’t…” but the reassurance dies in Leah’s throat. After fifty days, dying on the island seems like a very real possibility, as real of a possibility when Leah was losing her mind over the realization and tried to run into the ocean a month ago, maybe even more so now, with their collective fear growing each day about how purposeful everything feels, how a group of (seemingly) random strangers arbitrarily came to be stuck on an island, depending on each other. The day they saw the plane fly over doesn’t even register in Leah’s mind as significant anymore, just another circumstance on her list proving that something is fucking wrong. 

It hits her, Leah’s bad at this. Being there for someone, let alone comforting them. It feels alien to her, as much as her cell phone or Ian, a thousand miles away, desperately insignificant to her, to what’s on this island. Honestly, she can’t remember the last time she’s touched someone like this before the island, especially someone she cares about. Leah was never a particularly touchy kid but after him, when she started to flinch at her mother’s touch or shunned away from her father’s hugs, her tolerance for physical contact plummeted, pretty much becoming nonexistent. 

The feeling rises from her chest into her throat like bile and Leah becomes acutely aware of how her body is positioned, how she’s holding Fatin, just like how he held her: from behind, chin tucked into shoulder, arms snaking around her waist. She always found it comforting but now, in the haze of the memory, she wonders if he did that to keep her in place, to hold her down. Leah stiffens, she can’t help it, as the pressing, suffocating feeling settles again over her body.

But Fatin isn’t him, and neither is she. Leah knows that, knows it in the way Fatin’s hair smells like pears and sand and salt, knows it in the spaces that she's hesitant and timid, Fatin is unselfishly bold, knows it by the way Fatin’s fingers never rest, even now tapping out a slow melody on her arm, knows it because Fatin’s been there for her since the plane crash (well, close enough), holding her and crying with her, and a tiny, persistent voice in the back of Leah’s head whispers loving— 

Still, Leah gently extracts her hands from around Fatin’s waist and tugs on her shoulders until Fatin is turning over to face her.

“You will. We will get back home, we have to.”

Maybe it’s the darkness that makes her bold, but Leah leans forward, just enough, to brush her lips against Fatin’s forehead. She tries to ignore the hitch in her chest or the memory of Fatin doing the same to her after she ran into the ocean, thinking Leah was still knocked out from the pills instead of just dozing.

“You probably just got sand in your mouth, dummy,” the weight of the insult is weakened by the way Fatin’s voice breaks.

“I don’t care,” and Leah doesn’t. She has more important things to think/worry about than a few grains of sand, like keeping everyone she knows alive, keeping herself mostly sane, and not screwing up and saying something incredibly stupid in front of this girl she’s holding in her arms.

Fatin sucks in a breath and maybe, just maybe, thanks to the light from the full moon above them, Leah sees Fatin’s lips quiver. It takes her a second to look back up at Fatin and the other girl is already looking at her, the air thick with tension, thick with an unspoken something. 

Leah’s nose tickles as Fatin nudges it ever so slightly with her own. It feels like an invitation and maybe in another life without deserted islands and broken girls Leah would understand and kiss Fatin until they’re both breathless, but she looks at Fatin again, still with tears on her face, and wonders if Fatin expects it because that’s all she’s ever known: people using her body for their own motivations. And it’s not that Leah doesn’t want to kiss her, because God, she does, but she wants to do it right, and wants it to last this time. 

She leans in because she can’t completely resist the hedonistic (self-destructive) pull in her stomach, the curiosity of how Fatin’s skin feels against her lips, and presses her lips into the corner of Fatin’s cheek, just close enough to her mouth to say I want this too, but not now. Leah knows she’s lingering, but the mix of perfume and salt is almost addictive and it just feels so fucking good to touch someone, knowing Fatin won’t break. (Is it because they’re both broken already, who knows?)

Leah pulls back and Fatin’s looking at her with more tears streaking silently down her cheeks, but Leah’s pretty sure she understands. 

She wipes a tear from the side of Fatin’s eye and maybe, she thinks for a moment Fatin is going to make a comment about messing up her mascara, but then thinks better of it, because this moment, where they’re both staring into each others eyes under the moonlight on an empty beach feels too heavy for any words.

Instead, Fatin just tucks her face into the crook in Leah’s collarbone and shudders and shakes with silently sobs, but Leah holds her, all through the night, even when she’s too exhausted to open her eyes anymore, and falls asleep too. 

Thankfully, when Dot finds them in the morning still curled into each other, she waits until they walk back to camp with the others before nodding and passing a water bottle to Fatin. 

[jamieatthebarricade]

Maids to Wives

An Outlander AU based loosely on the TV Show and real life in the historic Jamestown

In 1619, one hundred and forty-four English women from good families crossed the Atlantic in response to the Virginia Company of London’s call for maids “young and corrupt” to make wives for the planters of it’s new colony in Virginia. One in six of the maids could even claim gentry status. Although promised a free choice of husband, they were in effect being traded into marriage for a bride price of 150 pounds of best leaf tobacco, the profits to flow to individual investors

In 1619, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp made the voyage to do one thing: marry a man she's never met. But when she arrives, she comes to the startling realization that her heart belongs to someone else, a certain James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.

Chapter 1/? : Aboard The Ship

April 17th, 1619, Claire’s POV

“I feel like my innards are swasheling ‘bout” Geillis hacked out her dinner for the 4th time this week. I tried my best to soothe her, rubbing her shoulders lightly, but the smell of old fish and stomach acid from the other’s puking made it hard to keep anything down. Most of us hadn't been on a boat before, let alone in the middle of the ocean where the monstrous waves led to monstrous waves of sea sickness. It took all my strength not to succumb to the churn in my own stomach. Poor Geillis didn't have the same strength as I.

Geillis was one of the first women I met on this voyage. Me and her bonded over our love of herbs and our older age. She has become one of my closest friends on this trek to find my future husband. 

My Husband. The word had only rolled off my tongue a few times in my life, but suddenly it was my entire world. It was all the ladies talked about, all they thought of,  all they could remember dreaming about. But, the rest of the women on the ship were different from me, and from Geillis too: they were young, and they were trained. Geillis and I were the eldest of all the brides -she being 31 and I being 27- and didn’t receive the same education as the rest of the girls. I myself spent my childhood traveling Europe with my Uncle Lamb, not learning how to be a good wife that could keep house. Perhaps if my parents hadn’t died when I was so young they could have instilled the passion for housekeeping in me, but a childhood under my Uncle’s influence assuredly led to the demise of any interest in such things. He even tried to enroll me in a dame school, but I refused. Can you imagine? Years of learning how to sew and knit and cook. I couldn’t think of a more revolting thing. I had longed to continue to travel with Uncle Lamb, as his career as an antiquarian required him to do, and so he had no choice but to keep me by his side. I imagine him beside me now, as if this voyage was just like any other: exploring new lands with curiosity and excitement. 

As Geillis continued to empty her stomach, I scanned the cabin, seeing some of the younger girls on the ship playing a card game. Their eyes lit a bright light inside of them when they got a good hand, and their smiles sparkled like pearls in the faint lantern light. Despite the ship muck they resided in, they still radiated beauty and grace. That and their training would make them excellent wives. 

Perhaps I should have let Uncle Lamb enroll me in that Dame school, I thought as I turned back to check on Geillis. Even though I got to choose the man I married, there was no guarantee that my husband would keep me when he found out how many skills I lacked. But no man could be so cruel, could he? While it made no sense to wish for a kind husband, I still did, as did all the women. I could only hope that my husband would be caring, smart, and understanding (and have a face and body with equally desirable qualities, but both together was the most rare of all).

A tug on Geillis’s hair called me back to reality. It seemed the sickness had faded for a moment or two, enough for her to speak. “Claire, I swear to ye, if I don’t make it on this ship, bury me in the new world. I dinna care if my flesh sticks up the whole bloody ship, I wilna be thrown to the sea, like a bone to a dog” 

“You’re not gonna die Geillis, it’s only 3 more weeks till the captains said we'll see land. If you die on this ship, I swear to you I’ll kill you” My remark managed to stifle a chuckle from Geillis’s sickly body. She smiled at me, and then her moment of peace was over: she went back to being sick almost immediately. I never found myself in the comfort of women, but Geillis was like a sister to me. Spending a month at sea in tight quarters did that to a friendship. 

Geillis wasn’t the only friend I made on the ship. To my left sat 15 year old Mary Hawkins, the youngest of the maids. Mary was just… small. A small frame and small face were the most startling of her features, and the month on the ship caused an almost deadly thinning of her figure. When she spoke, the words came in small stutters, and any movement made her jump. When I first saw her I wondered how Mary could have thought she could survive the trek across the ocean; that was, until I found out being a maid was her father’s scheme. After finding this out, a sisterly urge surged inside me, and I was her protector on the voyage ever since. And as her protector, I saw her shivering as I helped Geillis, and moved my arm from Geillis’s back to around Mary’s shoulders.  She gladly nestled herself into my side, but the shaking didn’t stop.

“A-am I going to die here, C-Claire?” She stuttered out. I quickly shook my head and turned to look down at her. I saw tears running down her face, but she didn’t look me in the eyes. She kept her gaze on the wall across from us, where a woman who looked the most sick of all rested her head. She didn’t look alive anymore, but with closer examination I saw her chest rose ever so slightly. I made a mental note to check on her later, if she hadn’t already died. So far, 34 women have died. While the cause of death varied from maid to maid, it was all from the same sickness that plagued our ship since the beginning of the second week aboard. Not all the women were victims, but the ones that were died swiftly and in immense pain. But, for every maid that died here, the same amount of men were left without a bride, and that would mean another wave of maids. I couldn’t imagine putting more girls through this hell. I was fortunate to be well, and above all else, alive. 

“No, you’re not. You’re gonna leave the ship with us and meet your husband.” I rubbed Mary’s shoulders gently. I felt her breath loosen, and she slumped slightly. Good, I thought. She fell asleep

I then stayed with Geillis until her nausea faded. After cleaning her up using my dress as a rag, I laid her down and watched her drift to sleep. I touched my hand to her forehead, and was thankful for not feeling any unusual temperature. I removed my arm from Mary’s shoulders, and slowly set her down near Geillis’ head. I tucked a small bag of grain beneath both of their heads, and thankfully none of them awoke from their slumber. I looked across the cabin and saw the pale woman from before. She hadn’t changed positions, but her chest still rose and fell like before. I moved in front of her, and placed my hand on her forehead. Hot. Burning hot. I shook her awake, and when she opened her eyes, they were bloodshot. 

“Will... you tell my husband that I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it” The sentence flowed out like any other statement, but the meaning behind it was darker.. She was a young woman, nearly 23 I guessed. Her hair was a soft blonde, and she had a pleasing aura about her. I could also tell she was quite pretty, underneath the sweat and sickness. Her hair stuck around her face, but she had the complexion of a sheet of paper. She was transparent, the veins of her body stuck out harshly against her pale face. When she spoke, it came out in a low whisper, as if her body didn’t have the willpower to use any strength.

“I’m Faith” She flashed a quick but weak attempt at a smile. I wished there was something I could do, to give her the strength that had saved me these past weeks. I reached beside her to grab a rag, in hopes of maybe wiping away the heat, but she put her hands over mine.

“Make the new world good for us” She spoke, before closing her eyes. Everything happened so suddenly, I could barely register it all. The minute she closed her eyes, any color that was left in her face disappeared. The rising of her chest stopped, and a hand fell limply from mine. 

I removed myself immediately, and sat next to Geillis. She stirred in her sleep before sitting up, tired. She must’ve heard what had happened, because just as I sat down she put her arm around mine. I wanted to cry, to feel some kind of pity for the woman, but nothing came out. ‘You should mourn her’ my brain told me but how could I? I just met her.

I didn’t have time to be like this. In a few short weeks we would be on the island with the men, living in the new world. Instead of feeling pity, I felt a sense of guilt. Out of nearly 100 women, only a few would step off this ship and into a new life. And I was one of them. Why did I get the luxury? I wasn’t ever a quiet, obeying miss, and I don’t think I could ever be. Why did god and those above think me fit to take on the responsibility of marriage? Faith would’ve probably made a fantastic wife, but here she lies dead by my feet and I am still breathing.

These thoughts ran rampant in my mind, so much so they exhausted me, and I felt myself roused into a deep slumber, with Geillis’ arm still around me and the soft breathing of the living filling my ears, reminding me I was still alive, that we all were. We bore the weight and responsibility of those who didn’t live, it was our job to make the new world good and prosperous.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hello everyone! This is my first chapter of a fanfiction I’m looking forward to writing! I’m a fairly new author so if everyone could be kind/give solid constructive criticism, that would be amazing! I’m looking forward to hopefully releasing more chapters later on!

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 11)

“How’d things go last night?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?”

“I don’t really have any other dates that I can compare it to, Hajime.”

“Well did he make you laugh and smile?”

“He did.” But he also reminded her of just why she doesn’t particularly deserve to laugh and smile. She wonders if Hajime would reprimand her for turning his son down. Even if he wouldn’t, she isn’t sure that she should. She can’t imagine that there is a line of people waiting to shower her with affection. She is almost certain that she wouldn’t take well to it anyhow. She isn’t the sort for hugs and kisses and tender touches. It is quite hard to imagine herself on the receiving end of it. She can already picture her cheeks growing red and she loathes the very idea of being left a flustered mess.

“But?” Hajime prompts.

She shrugs and slaps her hands against her thighs. “But then he told me about how his wife died. That kind of ruins the mood, wouldn’t you say?”

Hajime rolls his eyes, “sounds like Seukhyun. He doesn’t exactly know how to choose dinner conversations. I’d wager that he’s just about as...socially confused as you are.”

“Is that how Atsu’s mother died? Did those soldiers kill her too?”

He glances into the other room where Atsu leaps off of his bed with Bao, The Magnificent Mole in hand. He drops the stuffed badger-mole into Caihong’s lap. “I thought that his name was Mud Muncher!” The girl declares. Satisfied that the boy is fully engrossed, Hajime turns back to her. “No. She was killed by the Fire Nation. After our own soldiers left they told the enemy soldiers exactly where to find us. I told Atsu that she just got sick…”

“Have you ever met a good soldier, Hajime?”

“Personally, no.” He replies. “But I’m sure that there are some out there.”

Azula responds with a bitter sniff.

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t. They fight for what they think is best and then they find out that, that thing is actually the worst. And then they realize that they are monsters. Of course, most of them knew it all along. Nobody joins the military unless they want to kill someone.”

“Do you…” he looks into the other room. Atsu has fastened one of Caihong’s dolls to Bao. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

She nods her head towards the children.

“Atsu, Caihong!” They look up. “Rikka and I are going for a quick walk, stay out of trouble or I’ll go right to old man Hajime!”

“Don’t worry dad, Bao the Magnificent Mole has Avatar powers, he can defend the whole house from evil Fire Lord Bonsai!”

“Do you mean, Ozai?” Azula asks.

He shakes his head, “nope, I mean Bonsai! Fire Lord Bonsai is an evil bonsai tree that can talk and its leaves are on fire--except the fire is purple---and Avatar Mao is the world’s last hope because…” he sucks in a deep breath, “...because if he doesn’t stop Bonsai then Bonsai will use Roku’s comet to destroy the lion-turtle!”

“Also Ba Sing Se, Bonsai is going to burn Ba Sing Se if Mao can’t stop him.” Caihong adds.

Azula nods. “If you say so.”

“And! And! And also Fire Lord Bonsai has a son that’s a cabbage named Leaf and he’s the prince.” He holds up a leaf, “this is…”

“Leaf?” Hajime guesses.

“Mmmhmm!”

“Come on, Hajime.” She tugs at the man’s arm before Atsu can introduce any other offensive caricatures.

“You and Cai behave.” He waits for the children to nod before following Azula outside. “We were saying…”

“There are no good soldiers Hajime. It doesn’t matter what side of the war they are on. The winning side simply looks less evil because they are painted well. But they’re all…”

“You were a soldier, weren’t you?”  Azula swallows. She feels his hand cup around her own. “Let’s walk by the riverside, it’s quieter there.”

He doesn’t speak to her again until they come to a stop on a rickety bridge. “I know that you like being right but I disagree with you. Sure, there are people who join the war over power and bloodlust but some people join the military because they have no choice. Some folks need money, some were forced into it, and some want to protect loved ones. What was your reason?”

Azula thinks for a moment. It certainly wasn’t a matter of money and really she had no one to protect. She didn’t feel particularly forced, she’d rather enjoyed it and she thinks that she would enjoy it still--to feel the thrill of a conquest, a rush of adrenaline, a feeling of worth and accomplishment. “Power.”

“Power?” Hajime asks.

She nods. “I don’t know why you are surprised.”

He seems to study her for a long time. “Why did you want power?”

She furrows her brows.

“I’ve come to observe that most people who want power want it because they feel weak.”

But she had, had all of the power in the world in riches and in bending.

“So why did you want it?”

“I…” She looks off. Off to where the river leads, curling into a tangle of pine. Catkins and tallgrasses bob in the breeze. And yet, even with all of this clarity, she can’t seem to think of a reason why she would have wanted more power. She supposes that, that is just it; she never wanted it for herself, she wanted it so that she could turn it over to her father.

“I think that soldiers are a bit different in the Fire Nation. It seems like, over there, some people were raised on war and never knew any different.” He pauses to chuck a stone into the river. It lands with a plop and stirred up ringlets on the surface. A dragonfly launches itself out of the grasses. “I guess it isn’t so different in the Earth Kingdom. They make it sound glorious, and good and so you start to think that it is…”

Azula stares at the backs of her hands, feels the breeze fluttering her hair against her neck.

“I don’t think that you wanted power, usually people can say exactly why they want it.”

“To give it to my father.”

He nods. “So...love then?”

“What?”

“You wanted power so that you could give it to someone you loved? He was too weak to get it for himself so…”

“He wasn’t weak. He was the most powerful man I knew. He wanted more of it so I was going to get it for him.”

“Okay, he wasn’t weak.” Hajime nods. He is quiet for the longest time. And several times he opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it once more as if thinking better of doing so. She watches a count of six birds swoop down to take drinks before he finally says, “It sounds like you were one of the people who was raised on war. I don’t think that a good father would want his daughter to go to war for him.”

“My father was a good father.” Her stomach sinks even as she says it. He was such a good father that he left her behind. Strangely that probably was the best thing that he could have done for her. It weighs on her so heavily that she finds herself practically slumping over the bridge.

“You didn’t go to war for power. You went to war for love, to show it or to earn it. Or maybe both.”

Love…

He cups his hand over hers. “Maybe it led to bad things but at least you can say that you had one of the best reasons to become a soldier.”

If only that was it. If only that was the whole truth. If only glory and fear had no part of why she’d done so. If only she had just been a simple soldier. “I’m not what you think I am.”

He chuckles. “Who says that I’ve leapt to any conclusions about you?”

“It isn’t a matter of saying it, it’s a matter of implying.”

“I don’t have any solid ideas of who you are but I know what you aren’t.”

“Oh?”

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know that you’re not a bad person, Rikka.”

Rikka is not a bad person. He can’t soundly say the same for Azula. She opens her mouth and it very nearly comes out. She very nearly tells him just who he is dealing with.

“The people in this village only say good things about you. A lot of them are more open to firebenders because of you. Maybe you think that you’re a bad person, but you’re not.” His hand slides off her hers. “We should probably check on Atsu and Caihong.”

She nods. “Yes, that would be a good idea.”

That day she learns that she might not be a monster.

.oOo.

She hates to admit it but she likes Sokka’s laugh. It isn’t charming. It isn’t elegant. It isn’t a pleasant sound, he snorts. But it is genuine, pure, and unapologetic happiness. The sort of laugh she hasn’t heard since listening in on Atsu and Caihong’s play. She holds the Bao against her stomach, absently stroking his head as she waits for Sokka to finish laughing.

“So you’re telling me that this Atsu kid sees me as a boomerang and he thinks that you’re a…”

“The color blue.” She nods. “Anything that he can find that is blue. He had bits and pieces of information but he had it all mixed up and so instead of blue fire, Fire Lord Bonsai’s daughter is just blue. Anything blue.”

“And ‘Roku’s’ comet was a…”

“Flaming cabbage sent by a very vengeful merchant, yes.”

“Oh man, that kid’s a genius. He outta write for the Ember Island players.” He wipes a tear from his eyes. “Maybe you can introduce me to him one day.”

She squeezes the badger-mole and shakes her head. She is glad that his eyes are still closed with laughter. She campuses herself before he looks up.

“Sorry, I know that I promised not to ask any questions after your story but I really just needed some clarification.”

“Those questions were superficial, I didn’t mind answering them. Your turn.”

“Alright, so do you want to hear about the time when we took Zuko to the Water Tribes for some penguin sledding and he got swarmed by them or…”

“Yes. I want to hear that one.”

“Or…”

“I want to hear the Zuko penguin story.” Azula says firmly.

.oOo.

He supposes that he will have to save the, Zuko stuck in a coconut tree for a day when she isn’t so stubbornly refusing the possibility of a funnier Zuko mishap story. She stares at him expectantly, drumming her fingers upon the badger-mole.

“So it was an anniversary present from me to Suki. I decided that it would be fun to take her to the tribes because she always wanted to see a penguin in person. It was great we got all snuggly and cozy, we had these really warm fur blankets and this fire going. There was a blizzard outside so Katara and Zuko and the others were stuck with Hakoda at Bato’s place. Suki and I had some alone time.” He winks. “She pecked me on the cheek and...”

“Spare me the details, Sokka. The only pecking that I would like to hear about involves Zuzu and penguins.”

He flushes. “Right, well after Suki and I got our alone time we decided to take a group trip to the penguin caves. Aang wanted to go penguin sledding again, he said that he could beat Zuko down the hillside. And you know how Zuko gets, ‘I’m going to beat the Avatar in a penguin race, for honor!’ So he went after the largest penguin. Those things are bigger than you think!”

Azula takes a sip of tea, “are they now?”

He nods. “Pretty sure there was one that is bigger than you. I guess that’s not saying much because…”

She fixes him with a deadpan stare and a quirked brow.

“Because...those penguins are massive, not because you’re really small.” He hears her inhale through her nose and snickers. “So Zuko finds the largest penguin that he could find and just leaps on. But that penguin was a mother and it was meal time so all of the chicks just waddle on up but Zuko is in the way. I think that they thought that he was their mother because they were trying to get food from him.”

“Did they get it?”

Sokka shakes his head. “Not from Zuko. Katara had to run all the way back to the village to get buckets of krill to lure them off of Zuko. He was picking feathers out of his hair for days.”

“That does sound like Zuzu. But usually it’s the turtle-ducks.” She gives a one armed shrug. “I guess that he has an affinity for creatures with beaks.”

“Thanks for sharing the badger-mole story.”  

She toys with the sash of her nightgown. “I’m...glad that you enjoyed it.”

He grins, though it isn’t particularly the story that he enjoyed--granted her certainly did enjoy that well enough--what he enjoyed was hearing it from her. Was seeing the soft smile on her lips. Was noticing and observing the way her eyes seemed to light up when she made mention of the boy. It was comforting. Comforting and reassuring somehow.

“Does it make you feel better?” He asks.

She tilts her head.

“To talk about moments that made you happy.”

She works a muscle in her jaw, “I suppose that it helps a little, yes.”  

“Maybe all of us can get together and…”

“No.” Azula murmurs. “Not yet. I don’t want to share these things with Zuzu yet, he’ll be...overbearing. TyLee gets too sappy and Mai isn’t interested in hearing me go on about some kid.”

“He’s not just some kid.” Sokka says immediately. “I can tell.” Azula tenses and he lifts his hands. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking questions. But it isn’t a bad thing, you know, to show people that you’ve got feelings and that you care about other people.”

She reclines in the chair, props her head against her arm and drapes the other over her belly. She seems to stare off at nothing at all. “Perhaps.”

“Think about it!” He insists. “Servants and guards have been approaching you more. They aren’t scared of you. I know that Mai and TyLee say that you have a thing for being all scary and intimidating but you don’t need to be anymore because…”

“The war has been over for years.” Her eyes don’t leave that distant spot, wherever it is. “I know.”

.oOo.

“Then why do you still have so many walls up?”

Because she is afraid.

“If you think that we won’t like you for being yourself, it’s not true. We have met all sorts of weirdos that we love. Like those swamp guys, you met them! They’re weird and we like them!”

“The more you talk the deeper you dig.” She rolls her eyes. But he isn’t entirely off in his assumptions.

“You took a lot of walls down for me today,” he continues. “Believe it or not, I liked it. I liked the little glimpse that I saw.”

Her tummy flutters. “Yes well I’m not ready for that.”

“Not ready to let people know that you’re a human being?”

Not ready to let people see her, all of her. Not ready for them to get attached to her and care for her.  She isn’t even ready for the possibility. She certainly isn’t ready to let people love her. Not the way Hajime did. Cherishable or not she isn’t ready to feel again what Hajime had made her feel. Not with someone who isn’t Hajime.  

[askpokemoncrossover]

Shin's Acceptance

As Shin sat alone in the middle of the red fog, he recalled a story that he heard when he was still a Riolu. In ancient Japanese times, legends had it that two gods, Izanagi and his wife Izanami had created many of the islands and deities of Japan. When Izanami died, Izanagi tried to retrieve her from the underworld, but what he met instead was an utter failure. He mistakenly looks at her while she's in a rotting, monstrous state in the underworld, which shames her. She attempts to kill him, and swears to kill a thousand of his men a day. Izanagi retorts that he will make sure that a thousand and five hundred will be born each day before fleeing the underworld. After he escaped from his visit to Yomi, he had to perform a cleansing ritual in the river called Woto and it was then that three children were born: Amaterasu, Susano-o and Tsukuyomi.

But after the cleansing was complete, Izanagi didn’t learn about what had happened to the corruption he received from Yomotsu-hirasaka before it was too late: It became a being that took Izanagi’s form. This blood-stained version of the god represented what Izanagi felt before he cleansed himself: impulsiveness, poor judgement, obsession and frivolity and now… those feelings came back with a will of their own. When the two disagreed on the very reason of their existence, they clashed. The battle between the two gods shook the entire world before it ended with a stalemate, with both of their weapons stuck in each other’s chests.

After the battle, they knew that they’re equally matched in power and skill. In their final moments before leaving this world to the mortals, the two gods vowed to each other that they’ll reincarnate one day and if their reincarnations meet, despite what day and age they’re in, whether they’re friends or foes… they’re destined to clash until one is left standing. After remembering the old Japanese fable, an idea hit Shin: If he’s the current reincarnation of Magatsu-Izanagi, whether he likes it or not… surely someone else out there is Izanagi’s reincarnation. Shin knows that the longer Magatsu-Izanagi waits, the more restless and impulsive he becomes… making it harder for Shin to suppress and control his Persona powers.

He already tried committing suicide... but Magatsu-Izanagi simply revived him, telling Shin that he had a role to play and only when he’s fulfilled it can he truly die. “There’s no other way out of this, is there…? Fine…” Shin said as he whipped his tears, stood up and called out to the god: “MAGATSU!!” Almost immediately, the fog lifted a bit and at least a yard away, the blood-stained god looked at him with glowing yellow eyes and a murderous intent. “I thought I told you: We’re done talking.” “...And I'm done running.” Shin said and this caught the persona’s attention. “Oh...? You’ve got my attention… what is it you want?” Shin gulped, realizing that this is the point of no return he opened his mouth: “I…”

In Reality:

Soul was badly injured and the persona closed in before it suddenly halted and the possessed shin grunted in pain before clutching his chest. “W-what’s?” Soul asked as he looked at his possessed student who looked at the greninja one last time with golden eyes before grinning. “It seems he finally understands what must be done… you got off easy today, assassin. Although, This may be our last bout... provided that you don’t get in my way again ....” That’s when the persona dissolved into red fog, leaving behind it’s metal mask and blood-red naginata. The surrounding fog then swirled around Shin's body like a whirlpool that lasted for a minute. When the fog completely faded, the moonlight shone on Shin's new form: his hair changed from medium length to shoulder-length, spiky white hair sticking up in all directions and partially covering the right side of his face. He now has a blood-red jacket that reveals his bare, muscular chest with the chest spike. He also has red pants tied with a black sash similar in appearance to a karate uniform, and knee-high boots.

Shin’s left eye had changed: it was black and red. Despite his new appearance, he strangely showed no sign of hostility, instead he lifted his arms and opened and closed his hands as if trying to understand what he’s become. The greninja became weary of his student’s recent transformation before Shin’s eye fell upon the mask and naginata. Slowly, the new lucario walked forward with a calm yet intimidating aura. He knelt on one knee before his left hand grabbed the mask and picked up the spear with his right. Shin observed the mask carefully before he chuckled. “To think it took me this long to finally realize it…” Shin muttered under his breath before he tucked the mask away in his jacket pocket and stood up with the spear still in hand.

“Is… that you, Shin?” Soul asked and looked to see his teacher still in a fighting position, still not sure whether to attack or not. Shin smiled slowly before he opened his mouth to say: “Sensei… thanks for teaching me how to fight, but…” Shin suddenly turned around so that his back was facing soul. “I don’t want you to get involved anymore… you’ve done so much for me and I didn’t have a chance to repay you for your kindness… this is the least I can do, I’m sorry. May we never cross paths again, Soul.” Shin then walked away, heading into the nearby forest. The moment Shin was out of Soul’s eyesight the greninja sheathed his daggers before sighing and smiling. “So… if this is your choice, I must respect it. May you die with glory.” Soul said before he turned around and went back to the city to resume his work as an assassin without looking back. Soul felt a tear rolling down his cheek and wiped it away. "Shin... I hoped there was a way for you to live a normal life again... but i see now that it isn't going to happen." Soul muttered as he continued down his own path, like shin is walking his right now.

As Shin continued to walk through the forest, he took out the metal mask and put it on to cover his face and identity from the rest of the world. “So… are you sure about this? Fusing with me is one thing, it gives you full access and control over my powers. But seeking out my counterpart Izanagi is the same as setting one foot in the grave.” The god’s voice echoed through Shin's head and the Lucario simply grinned before he replied: “I’m sure… besides: I’ve already decided how I'm going to die.”

Soul and Shin aren't available for asks... what'll happen now?

Starting Ark 2: Aka to Shiro.

[coconutheadfriend]

Fall of the sky (part 2)

Todoroki Shoto x Reader

Genre: Romance I guess?

Warnings: Angst, Implied smut, fluff? (There will be smut eventually)

Word count: 2800+

Summary:

Ah Arkridge city of laughter and full of rich, cocky assholes. Oh, and me, my name is (Y/N) and this is my story about the fall of the sky. It’s 2034 and the government declares the ground below us is inhabitable, broken, and destroyed. So people build a city, a sanctuary for the human race to keep on living. Although the one thing they chose to do wasn’t to send us to space no, it was to build a city. No normal city though, it flew. Like a plane, but looked way more magical than the human mind could ever imagine. Towering buildings and cute little homes waiting to be inhabited. Although there was a dark side to this solution, poor people were rarely seen on this island, but why may you ask? That will play a big part in my story and how I made the sky fall. I am (y/n) (l/n) and this is my story on how I made the sky fall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head hurt, no it didn't just hurt. It was the most pain you've ever felt in your life. Your whole body hurt like hell and you couldn't remember why. You opened your eyes slowly, it was dimly lit. Your vision was blurry and the lights around you were stretched out in streaks. You opened your eyes wider and your vision cleared. You got up slowly, pain shooting through your body. "ah- shit" You fell back down and tears appeared in the corners of your eyes. You tried to move your legs but with little movement. You looked around you and saw no one. 'Where the hell am I' you thought to yourself. Suddenly you heard a door open and close and you shut your eyes, pretending to be asleep. "Damn- still no awake." They sigh and walk closer to you. 'It sounded like a guy-' you felt him take something off your forehead and replaced it with something warm and wet.

You suddenly heard another person's footsteps coming into the room. "She's still not awake? Why don't you just get rid of her Todoroki?" It sounded like a female and she came awfully close to the bed. She tapped my face rather hard, hard enough to move my face to the side. "Hey watch it, I don't want her to be hurt more than she already is." He says grabbing the girl's hand. What you assumed to be his hand moved your head back had soothed the spot that had just got hit. "I can't just leave the girl. Besides who knows what kind of condition she's in." His thumb slowly moves over to your lips swiping across it gently. "Whatever I'll be back in a bit, I need to go downtown to get some more supplies" you hear her footsteps as she leaves the room. His face gets closer to yours and you hear his whisper. "I believe that you can wake up and I'll be here waiting"

He starts t get up from the bed and your eyes shoot open grabbing his arm. "Wait! Please don't leave!" You shout tears pricking your eyes. He looks at you with a shocked face. "Uh-I won't" He sits beside you on the chair. 

This is the first time you get a look at him. His red hair splits off to white in the middle and it looks as if his face is burned but from what you could tell he definitely isn't ugly. His face chiseled but still has soft features like his eyes almost as if welcoming you home. Your thoughts were interrupted.

"Uhm so how are you feeling?" He asks awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm ok I guess considering what happened- actually what did happen?" You ask your face confused, lifting a hand to your head trying to remember. "I thought you'd know" He shrugs "But you did fall from the sky and people call you Daten-shi, you're lucky to be alive." He looks at you and wipes some hair from your eyes. "I guess"

Then you remember. The sky, his face, the heartbreak, and most of all fear and his hatred for me. The pink clouds, and how beautiful you looked that night. The last dance you'd ever have as you fell. You thought he loved you, your dear Bakugou. But when you told him you felt like it wasn't working out he pushed you. Your heart hurt and your eyes were burning. You felt pain all over you as you moved your arms to hug yourself. "He pushed me-" You choked up, you were crying? tears had been running down your face. You sobbed out. "He pushed me off the edge-like-like he didn't care about me!" You shout and scream out a painful cry. "No one will know I'm dead!" Your nose starts to run and he pulls you into his chest. you cry into his shirt, wrapping your hand around his shirt. balling your fists in it wrinkling the fabric. You look at him and push him away. " Where am I? What is this place? The world was destroyed?!" You start panicking. Breathing becomes uneven "Am I in hell?" You look up at him with red eyes and his face shows no expression. "No you're on the ground. The real ground" He pulls your hands off him. "Stop crying, there's no point. If you tell anybody you're from the sky city, you might as well have just died while falling" He puts on a cold persona. 

"No one will come looking for you, by the way, I would know. Can you walk?" He asks getting up and tapping your legs. "I-I don't know-" You look at your legs, trying to move them. but to no avail. "Get up," He said, a little angry. "I'm trying" You choke out trying to move your legs again but nothing. "Get up!" He shouted louder than the last. He turns around and throws the chair to the ground. He walks out of the room slamming the door. 

"Why is he so upset, jeez, I'm the one that should be. I can even walk." You tear up again and move to face the wall. wrapping your hands around your body. getting cold and you start crying again. "I'm the one who has no one, nothing anymore" The tears rolling down your face were hot. You had so many questions. how did you get here, who was he and how did he live on the ground?

You closed your eyes drifting off to sleep again. 

You woke up to two people fighting to what seems like to be on the other side of the door. "Todoroki she's a waste of time! She can't even walk!" the female shouts "So was I just a waste of time when I fell!" He cries out. "No! That's what I thought, she will walk again just watch!" He says opening and closing the door to the room you're staying in. He sighs and looks at you, with the same cold face. "Sorry, how much of that did you hear?" He sits in the chair next to you. It must've gotten picked up while you slept. "Uh, what do you mean you were a waste of time?" You ask tilting your head to him. "I guess I was the same thing as you, I fell. Not from the sky though. From some rocks high up. I went through some hard times, but I got through them" he says you see his eyes get glossy. "Until I met Momo you see. She helped me through a lot of it. We're actually dating. We have our problems like any other couple, we've been mainly fighting over you. She thinks you can't walk again and I believe otherwise. I can't give up on you as so many had done with me." He coughs clearing his throat.

"Also sorry for lashing out yesterday. I just-" You put your hand on him, reassuring him "It's fine I understand how you might've felt" You smile at him softly. "Ah- you must be hungry. We don't have much to eat but I can get you some bread" You smile and nod. He gets up and leaves the room. Tears start to prick your eyes realizing that you may never walk again.

You wipe your eyes and he walks in again with a piece of bread with what looks to be some home-made strawberry jam. "It's not like the food you'd get up there but it's the best we've got right now" He hands you the food and you take a bite. Your eyes widen. "Oh my! this is so good" You smile and eat more of it. "I have some questions if you'd be ok with me asking them," You say after eating your food. Your stomach feels fuller than before. He nods "Ask away."  

You think for a second and look down to see if you had different clothes on. To see you had been bandaged up. Some wrapped around your breasts and more wrapped around your bottom half almost like shorts. stopping a bit above mid-thigh. You blush at the thought of his undressing you. "Uh, who changed me?" He blushes and looks down. "Uh I did- but I didn't look at anything, or tried to. That's probably why Mo is mad at me." He has a small smile and rubs the back of his neck. "Uh it's ok, "You say awkwardly. 

"Do you know who pushed you off?" He asks, his face returning to that old cold stare. "Yeah, I remember. His name was Bakugou, we were dating for a few months and when I went to break up with him he pushed me off. Like it was nothing." You sigh tears prick your eyes and you blink them away. "Hm, that name does sound familiar, but not very many people talk about what goes on in the sky. Bad memories for them I guess" He shrugs his shoulders. "Uh if you don't mind me asking where my dress?" You look up shyly. "Mo actually took it, she has it in her closet. even puts it on some times. which is a little weird because half the time you could've been dead at any moment. It just reminded me that she was wearing a dead girl's dress" He got chills and you widen your eyes. 

"Uh, I want to try to walk again." You say shyly trying to move your legs. They moved slightly. "Oh my god, they moved. I can kind of feel my legs. Not much though" You smile at him but it quickly disappears when you try to move them again and you feel pain shoot up your back. You let out a groan and your body falls back on the bed. Tears prick your eyes and you try again sitting up. You touch your legs with your hand. "I feel it!" His eyes sadden and he takes out a needle. "What are you doing?" He pricks your leg and you watch the blood come out of your leg. "W-what? Why couldn't I feel that?" You ask, jabbing your finger on the cut and feeling no pain. "Your body made you think you felt it." He sighs, bending down to pick you up in bridal style. "Come on we're going to the kitchen" You look at him, admiring his face while he looks ahead. "Is there something on my face?" He asks looking down at you smirking. You look away blushing. "Oh, no..." you say quietly. He places you on the counter, this is the first time you get a good look at the place it's an old looking apartment? Small looking but comfortable.

"Nice place," You say and he goes between your legs holding a spoon up to your mouth. You open it and close it when he puts it in your mouth. He pulls the spoon off and you swallow, You look up at him and his mouth is open slightly. You blush and he holds the spoon up to your mouth again repeating the action multiple times and you come up with the conclusion that is apple sauce. He picks you up and places you on your feet. you wobble and lose balance and he grabs you pulling you to his chest. "How long was I out? Also, what's your name?" You look up to him. "About a month and my name is Todoroki, but most people call me Icy-Hot" He clears his throat and places you on your legs again. You groan and fall to your knees. This happens multiple times for the next half an hour.

You end up giving up and stay on the floor for a few minutes until he sits next to you. "Give it some time" He places his hand in your comfort. "What's your name?" He asks, turning his head to look at you. Your head to look at him as well. "Y/n l/n" You look down at your hands and he gets up. "Well, Y/n. We should probably get you back to your room." He bends down to pick you up. He walks to your room slowly pushing the door open with his body. He places you on the bed and places the blanket onto you. "Tomorrow I'll bring you down to see if someone can help you. I'll get out the stuff that helped me if you want. You nod and he walks to the door turning to say something. "Get some rest, you'll need it." 

He closes the door and you look down at your legs tearing up again. "Stop, stop crying it's not worth it. He's not worth it." You blink the tears away. turning to your side and closing your eyes.

You were running from him, Bakugou and you were running through a forest. Cuts on your arms and legs, sweat drenching your body and tears in your eyes. You saw the edge and stopped running. Watching Bakugou charging at you. "NO! STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE" You heard his laugh and he pushed you off. But this time it was a dark hole. "You're not coming back from this" He laughed watching you fall.

You shot up from the bed and Todoroki slammed the door opening running to you. You were covered in a cold sweat. "H-He did i-it again. H-e pushed me- pushed me off aga-again" You stumbled out your words and you felt tears leak from your eyes. He pulled you into another big hug rubbing your back. You wrapped your arms around him, grabbing his shirt from behind.

"Todoroki! What are you doing hugging her?" She asked angrily standing in the door and crossing her arms with an angry look on her face. "She had a nightmare Momo don't get so angry." He sighed pulling away from you. He went across the room and grabbed some clothes placing them on your bed. "Here change, we're going to see if someone can help you." He said, walking you out of the room. He stood in front of the girl and pulled her with him, closing the door as they both walked out.

You look at the clothes and then your bandages around the upper and lower part of your body. Your start unwrapping the top and Todoroki walks back in with something in his hands. You let out a squeak and cover your top part with the shirt. "Oh- sorry I didn't know you were changing," He says softly. "This is the only extra we have for your upper half, sorry it's a bit of an inconvenience. Also before you had woken up Momo had bathed and shaved you, so you don't need to worry about that stuff. She didn't want me doing it for obvious reasons but here" He places the item beside you and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him again.

"Has this man ever heard of knocking?" You sigh to yourself. You pick up the item and it's a bra, a cute one too. It looks a little small for you. It's pink lace with a criss-cross back and a cute pink bow in the form with matching panties.

You put the bra on and its a tight fit, your boobs almost spilling out of it. The black t-shirt is a v-neck making your boobs very noticeable. You unbind the wrappings on your legs and you see the shave, she did a very good job. No cuts and smooth, just how you like it. You grab was seemed to be ripped jeans, you put your legs through it. It was hard but you cant seem to get them past your thighs.

"Todoroki!" You shout and he comes into the room. You blush shyly. "I need some help pulling them up" You point to your pants and he nods. 

He turns you to lay on your stomach putting your but in the air. He gets on his knees pulling your pants up he stands up and pulls it up and around your ass. He presses himself against you and grinds a bit losing himself in the way you look. "You know Todoroki, I might've lost feeling in my legs but I can still feel my ass" You say to him and he picks you up "Right sorry just testing out the waters." He blushes and puts you on his back walking out the room. He walks towards the door. "You ready to see what's out there?" He asks and holds the knob to the door.

"Yeah.. I'm ready."

Tag-list:

@we-starlight-in-the-making

To be tagged comment!

[write-like-you-mean-it]

A Hunter’s Prey: A Young Boy’s Trauma

Killua arrived in 4 weeks. The countdown of Killua’s return made learning Nen even more difficult and taxing than previous attempts. Rather than learning at my own pace, I had to speed through training that might take years to complete. The closest I ever got to this level of training was when I trained with Illumi. However, Gon’s training was relentless. We would always awake at the crack of dawn, followed by a small run around the forest, and lastly Nen training until I collapsed from exhaustion. 

My only solace has been the heartache of missing Illumi finally dulled to a painful throb only felt when I had failed once again to hold Nen in my body for the full time. The two hour mark became a pain in my ass. I’d barely been able to break over 30 minutes within the past week that we’d been training. 

“C-can we take a small break?” I asked after collapsing for the third time of the day. Gon had taken a seat on a moss covered rock that overlooked the sea and myself. He wasn’t paying attention to me. Even his childlike mind had too much stuffed into the time he’d been alive. I sighed while taking a seat next to him. “Gon?” I questioned in hopes of gaining his attention. 

The boy finally turned to look at me with the plastered smile on his face. This time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, yeah a break is fine.” With his untampered arm, he handed me my water bottle. 

We looked out at the crashing waves far from the shore. A small tension filled the air as I wondered if I should ask him about what took up so much space in his mind. My hands absentmindedly played with blades of grass as the ocean breeze fluttered through my hair. 

“Gon, what might be on your mind. You seem distracted today.”

His eyes never left a far off point in the sea. They were like a wandering traveler who was only here as a stop and knew the better and bigger world that awaited him beyond the shore; yet, he couldn’t go. “Yeah, I’m alright. Watching you use Nen makes me miss my own power.”

“What type of Nen did you have?”

“I am an enhancer. I use a rock, paper, scissors thing called Jajanken. It is so cool. I can demonstrate it for you,” said the boy with excitement returning to his demeanor. He stood up on top of the rock before he realized what he was doing. The physical manifestation of realization followed by sadness took over his small frame. “Or I could if I did have Nen. I am lucky though. I’m still alive.”

“What happened to make you lose your Nen?” I asked. Gon stepped off of the rock and sat back down onto it. 

“I’ll tell you once you get to an hour,” he said before pulling out the timer once again. “You’re at 45 minutes. You’ve had a break for long enough.” His tone had sharpened like a knife. The awkward tension returned and fluttered with the ocean air. 

I stood up and returned to my state of Ren. “I’m sorry,” was all I could say. 

--------

Soon it was only 3 weeks until Killua’s return. I hadn’t made much more progress. Every single day felt like my body was splitting into two separate pieces. What was even worse was that Gon was refusing to help me as much as before. I don’t know what I said that ticked him off so much. 

At this point in training, I’d been able to hold my Nen for 55 minutes. Too short for any explanation and long enough that I didn’t have as much time in the day. With sleeping, I had at most 7 hours to practice. 

The morning runs became more difficult as Gon didn’t let me catch up to him anymore. He began sprinting through the forest; however, I did not have his experience. Unlike him, I did not grow up in the forest. I was stuck following in his footsteps rather than matching pace. Once arriving at the same mountaintop, we’d practice Nen. 

Today, I was determined to hit that dreaded 1 hour mark. I had to or I would never get close to meeting the goal set by Gon. For hours, Gon would sit on the rock overlooking the ocean and watch the timer. He did nothing else for he was lost in his sea of thoughts. 

Part of him reminded me of Illumi. His quietness reminded me of Illumi and I’s first meeting. Illumi was always so quiet and lost in his own thoughts. It wasn’t until he finally opened up to me that I could actually love him. 

Illumi’s words of how no one has ever loved him before filled my heart. Because of everything that happened after we consumed our love, I forgot to digest the words. The pain sent a sting straight to my heart. Illumi only ever wanted love and I was the first person to give it to him. 

My mind wandered to him sitting on that boat in the middle of the ocean. Was he alright? Was he still alive? How is Machi and Chrollo doing? During these weeks, I started to get nightmares about the events that had happened. Machi and Chrollo blame me for not being stronger. If only I had a way to control my power then Hisoka wouldn't have… No. I can’t blame myself for actions that happened in the past. 

“One hour,” remarked Gon. 

“Huh?” I questioned while dropping Ren. 

“You’ve made it to a full hour. I’m a little surprised.”

“Oh. It’s already been an hour?” I looked out over the sea to see the sun had dramatically lowered in the sky. “I hadn’t noticed.” I took my seat next to Gon.

“I could tell.”

He, once again, handed me my water bottle as I took a full sip. I, also, hadn’t realized how thirsty I had become. While finishing the full bottle I remembered our conversation from a week ago. Would he want to discuss his past with me? Should I bring it up? I decided to try with a small “so…”

“I lost my Nen when I almost died. Alluka saved me from myself. If Killua hadn’t been there for me then I would’ve lost everything.” His words fell from his lips as if he was an adult recounting a time in his childhood. Gon continued, “A close friend of mine died because I wasn’t strong enough. His name was Kite. When he died, it was the second time he’d saved me. I owe Kite and Killua everything.”

“Kite? I’ve heard that name before,” I said while thinking back in my memory. “I think he was a contracted support for my work many years ago. I don’t remember much of him because I didn’t see him after the initial meeting. He’s a stoic quiet guy. My old boss never said anything bad about him. I’m sorry he lost his life.”

“Yeah, Kite was a good man.”

“You have a lot of good people in your life, Gon.”

Gon finally turned to look at me. He sniffed a bit while wiping his eyes with the unbroken hand. “You’re right.” I instinctively, wrap my arms tightly around this crying child. I hold him as he sobs deep, emotional trauma. From the cries, I could tell these were all emotions that had yet to be processed in his mind or he was still going through them. 

“It’s okay,” I say, still holding him in my tired frame. “Everything will be alright.” 

“Killua has always been there for me and when he needed me the most, I was too busy with my own thoughts. I hurt him so much and I-I don’t know how to..” His voice cut off back into another sob. 

I held this crying child until his sobs turned into the shaky hiccups after a long cry. “Gon, explain what happened.”

“I went after Kite’s killer. She was so powerful that I had to use all the Nen left for the rest of my life. I told Killua that this fight wasn’t with him and that he should leave. So he did. I-I did mean to. I was just hurt and in so much pain and Killua wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t-”

“Gon, it’s okay. Killua saved you. He still cares about you. He’ll return. That’s all that matters. Truly, I’m more upset with the fact they allowed you on such a dangerous mission that could’ve gotten you killed.”

“It’s alright. I wanted to go. I had to save Kite but I should’ve brought Killua along. He is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

A smile crossed my face as Gon wiped away a few tears. The sun had fully set at this point. Darkness crept up on us. “Would you like some dinner from Aunt Mito? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

“Sure, Gon,” I smiled but after that day, I didn’t look at him like a child again. 

--------

Only two more weeks until Killua would arrive. Time was running shorter and shorter. Everything felt like a ticking time bomb. Frustration grew as I couldn’t seem to grasp holding onto my Nen for more than an hour and 15 minutes. I only had such a short time. 

After Gon’s confession, he finally was able to open up to me more. He told me about everything that happened with York New and about his friends Leorio and Kurapika. He told me about his adventures at the Hunter exam. He told me about Greed Island and the hunt for his dad.  Lastly, he told me about meeting his dad. 

The more stories he told me, the easier it was to hold my Nen. Within the past year, Gon held such an interesting life. Part of me wished that he’d tell me about what happened with Kite but I knew better than asking. Instead, I learned more about Gon than any other child. 

It was nice to sit and listen to someone else talk. Illumi was never a talker. 

“So when’s the wedding?” asked Gon. His question caught me off guard but I was still able to focus on the true task at hand. 

“We haven’t picked a date or anything. Truly he asked me less than a month ago. I don’t know when we’ll get a chance. Most likely it’ll be at some place expensive as he is a Zoldyck.”

“Do you know that means you’ll be related to Killua?” asked Gon while jumping up and down. 

I laugh and reply, “I’ll also be related to Milluki and Kalluto.”

“Wait, you've met Killua’s other siblings?”

“Yes, I have lived at the Zoldyck manor for a quarter of a year. We had a family dinner once which was a shitshow.”

“How’s Killua’s dad and mom. He rarely talks about them beyond what his father forced him to do as a kid.”

“Oh well his father is domineering and a presence. His mother is a nutcase. She’s a little crazy but so is his brother. Killua’s grandfather is cool though. He helped me with my Nen just like you. With Illumi’s family, it’s no wonder how he ended up the way he was.”

“Are you excited to be a part of the family?”

I’m not sure. They might actually kick us out of the house as Illumi isn’t the one to inherit the Zoldyck name. We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Illumi should inherit it. Killua hates his family. Illumi would be a much better head of the house than Killua anyway. He doesn’t want to become anything like his father.”

“Neither does Illumi. He only wants to be praised and loved.”

Gon looked at me a little strangely. “Same with Killua. Maybe you’ll be able to convince them to finally talk.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I chuckle while thinking how that conversation may go. Finally I released my Nen and felt the same exhaustion as before.”

“One hour and 16 minutes,” said Gon.

“Shit. 

-----

One more week. One more week and I only felt weaker than before. At the week deadline, I climbed out of bed only for my stomach to churn and force me into the bathroom. The hotel room had become a new home for me. Throwing up last night’s meal given to me by Mito was disappointing. Mito was almost as delicious of a cook as she was kind hearted. Gon had been inviting me back to his house after training because I’d been here so long.

I knew I’d not felt well the day before but I chalked it up to finally getting within the 1:45 mark on time. Instead, I knew this was a whole new feeling. I hadn’t felt this sick in ages. My head ached and I’d become tired so quickly. 

Standing over the porcelain bowl gave me a clarity that I had yet to have in the month since Illumi had vanished from my grasp. I muttered a quiet “shit” before emptying everything in my stomach once again. 

I decided to cancel training for the first time ever. Even over the phone, I could hear Gon’s sadness. He asked if he could bring soup over later. I obliged his request. 

Instead of staying in bed and trying to sleep it off, I decided to take a quick trip to the drug store. If my suspicions were right, I’d have a new problem on my hands. 

My hands grazed over the test that lay on the bathroom counter. I’d only taken it a few minutes ago but my hands were already shaking. I closed my eyes and held up the plastic test so that it was in eyeshot when I opened my eyes. 

As expected, the words “pregnant” lit up the screen. “Shit. Illumi got his wish.” I chucked the test across the room before lying back onto the bed with a million questions in my head. All of them falling to one answer, we never used protection. 

[ma-gic-gay]

So this is a new one of these and the other one is probably over so yeah

It's a weird Christmas.

It marks a year since anyone last saw Sonny, a year since Julian's death, and a year full of drama, as one would expect.

Michael and Willow had had another child, a girl this time. Her name was Ophelia and Wiley loved being a big brother to her. The pair had also burned their annulment papers when they'd realized she was pregnant and finally admitted their feelings for each other. Watching them together had probably been the highlight of the year for their family.

Sam had started hooking up with Dante much to the chagrin of, well, everyone. It had started as a few random hookups but changed quickly into an actual relationship, testing several familial bonds.

Luckily, that disaster on wheels had been halted when Lulu had woken up from her coma. Lulu and Dante got back together and fell in love, again.

Sasha and Brando had formed a relationship as well, which was quite a surprise at first glance but made sense after a few weeks.

"Carly? You okay?" Jason asks. Surprisingly enough, she hadn't completely broke down yet, or ran away. The furthest she'd ran was the island and even then, it was only a few hours no one knew where she was, since he couldn't teleport and it took that long to get to the island.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking," she responds, faking a smile.

"Tell that to the tears in your eyes and obviously fake smile," he says to her. "What are you thinking about?"

"It's been a year since any of us have heard from Sonny. For all we know, he's dead. Hell, he probably is. I know I should give up and just agree to a funeral, but it feels wrong to do that without a body," Carly sighs, head in her hands in an effort to hide her tears. "It feels wrong for him to not be here. Last Christmas, we were convinced he'd be home by now and now it's like we've all resigned ourselves to him being dead."

"If it doesn't feel right to have a funeral, don't have one. I've known you for a long time, and your instincts are right a lot of the time. Just because Sonny's not confirmed dead doesn't mean he's not," Jason frowns, putting his arm around her and rubbing circles along her back.

Sonny's "death" meant he had to step up in more ways than one. This had marked the year of Jason running the mob, which he'd practically been doing before but was actually doing now. He'd also had to become sort of a surrogate husband to Carly to the point he practically lives there by now. The kids hadn't questioned it; they'd asked a few times if there was anything going on there but after getting a firm no there hadn't been anything else from them in forms of questioning their relationship status. It was what it was and that was the same friendship they'd always had.

There had been times even Danny had questioned why they were at that house so much, to the point he once asked Carly if they were together or not.

You know it's reaching an odd point when a twelve year old is asking if you're in love with your best friend.

Of course, they didn't take into consideration the fact the whole town thought they were together. Again. Everyone had assumed, based off of how much time they'd been spending together- surprisingly more than normal- and the fact that he'd all but moved into the house that they were together.

That was a fun one to realize when he'd gotten shot and everyone had assured her that her boyfriend would be fine.

It just wasn't happening, they were friends. Anything more could complicate it and complicated almost always meant that there would be fights they couldn't go to each other to uncomplicate.

"I know that, but I just don't want to live knowing that there's a chance he could be alive somewhere and he's been kidnapped or forgotten his name or something. It's like I'm stuck in this neverending circle where there's barely any hope but I can't pretend there's none either. Sometimes, I wish that the police would show up with a body and I would have to confirm that yes, he is dead, just so that I could get out of this loop," Carly sobs. "And then I feel terrible for wishing he was dead because I love him, you know, but then at the same time, I can't help but feel like I need closure."

"That's not a bad thing, to need closure. None of us get any closure when it comes to this, Carly. You're not a bad person for wanting some," he reminds her. "You've been grieving for a year a man you don't even know for sure is dead. It doesn't make you bad to want to have something definite."

"But wanting my husband dead? That's dark," she argues with him.

"You want to know if he's dead or alive, something to confirm what's happened to him. I hate to break it to you but you don't qualify as a terrible person," Jason chuckles. "You've never killed someone, never hurt a kid."

"I shot a dude in open court, I almost killed AJ. I've done a lot of questionable things in my life, Jason," Carly fights back.

She's not wrong, persay, but she's not right. "That stuff doesn't make you a bad person. Morally grey? Yes. Bad? No. You do what you think is best and you're impulsive. If something's not going your way, you'll tip the scales. It's just how you are. None of that makes you a bad person. Some people might not like it, but you've never killed someone or hurt a kid, so in my book you're a good person."

Carly's head comes out of her hands for a minute and he smiles, wiping away the tears. "Well you're not a bad person either. You'd never hurt a kid and you only kill in self defense or if the person's really bad and threatening someone you care about. It's not like you wake up and go kill someone for shits and giggles. You mourn the people you kill and feel bad about it. Only a purely horrible person wouldn't feel bad about their murders."

"Neither of us are bad people, let's just agree on that at least."

"Fine," she relents finally. That only took a year. "I miss Sonny. Especially this time of year. Last year, he read Donna and Avery the Grinch and he had the world's worst Grinch voice. I practically begged him to read another book because of how bad it was. But this year, I wish he would be able to read it to them."

"I miss him too," Jason admits. "It's been a hell of a year without him."

"That it has. So much has changed," she agrees with him, shifting her position on the couch so she's lying her head on his lap.

That's probably why the kids thought they were dating.

He plays with her hair as she laughs, remembering some obscure detail about his telling of the Grinch and decorating for Christmas.

Scratch that, this is definitely why everyone thinks they're together.

"Hey Mom, Jason," Joss greets them, coming in from the kitchen. "I'm going to Trina's. Donna's with Ophelia at the Quartermaine's and Avery's with Ava."

"Alright sweetie, have fun," Carly bids her daughter goodbye, sighing. "Why is she so adult now? I mean, I can remember when she was born and it feels like yesterday. Hell, Michael's birth feels like yesterday. And they're both so grown up."

"Time flies when you're having fun," he answers.

"Where'd you get that? A throw pillow or some advice of my mother's?"

"A card someone sent me back when I was in the hospital. Needless to say, that card got tossed in the trash as soon as you'd let me stand up to go to the trash."

"Who the hell sent that to you of all people?"

"No clue. It didn't have a name attached."

"Huh. Well, it's a terrible expression. Too throw pillow. The real answer would be that we're aging, sadly," Carly sighs again, equally as dramatic. "Granted, I still look like I'm 27, but somehow I've aged."

"Age is but a number."

"You sound like a Hallmark card."

"Rude."

"You do!"

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm aging as well. You're not in this whole getting old thing alone. Provided, of course, that you agree to age," he smirks.

"I don't have anything better to do, sadly, so I suppose I'll agree to getting older. But I refuse to have a gray hair."

"Then go to the salon when you notice one and dye your hair."

"I plan on it," the blonde smiles at him before changing the topic. "Do you think we're weird?"

"That came out of nowhere."

"Answer the question."

"No?"

"That sounded like a question."

"Carly, how am I supposed to answer this one? I don't know, maybe?" Jason says, though most of it comes out as a question.

"Well, I mean, think of it. Sonny's been presumed dead for a year. You've been in charge of the business and been there for all of us in more ways than I can count. Seriously, I think Donna sees you as a father," Carly chuckles. "And you've listened to me crying and losing it. Hell, you spent a month and a half at the island just so I wouldn't be alone."

"Hey, you're family. I was happy to do all of those things. Besides, you wouldn't leave my side when I got shot. Or for a very long month after that," he jokes.

"I know but you didn't have to do that. You didn't have to step up and parent the kids. You already had Danny and Scout and the breakup with Sam to deal with, that's a lot at once. Not to mention, taking over the business and grieving Sonny. And dealing with me. All at the same time," she smiles. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, but you had no obligation to do any of that."

"Carly, do you think I'd be here right now if I didn't want to? You know me better than that. I love you and the kids and want to be there for all of you. So far, I've only gotten shot once and that was unrelated, so I'd consider this a pretty good experience."

The blonde scoffs at him and he chuckles. "Not funny. You could've died."

Rolling his eyes, he reminds her, "I didn't."

"Well you're not allowed to get shot for a long time."

"I'll take getting shot off of my to do list."

"Don't you dare joke about this!"

"Alright. Look at me. I'm not going to die anytime soon. I promise. It takes a lot more than a measly bullet to kill me, after all. Not even Russian madmen could do it," he says seriously.

"Good. Because if you do that to me again, I'll have no choice but to resign myself to a life in either prison or Ferncliff," she says half seriously, getting a laugh out of Jason.

It's not entirely unrealistic she'd end up in one of those positions, especially given that it's already happened. Repeatedly.

Maybe there's a sign she should stop doing dangerous things.

Almost as though she's being told to by something inside her, Carly connects her lips with his.

to be continued

why do i get myself into these things smh

[castellankurze]

In another bit of boredom while waiting for the next patch to arrive, I decided to put together B’aiken’s immediate family like I did for Jiro Kuroda.  As with that post it got long, so details below the cut.

Top (left) and top (middle): B’cossen Tia and B’grayn Zinba

Both born on the island of Vylbrand, Cossen and Grayn were members of the Boar tribe who fell into the sailing profession by virtue of proximity.  Perhaps it was also proximity that both would eventually become pirates of the Rhotano Sea, operating in crews under the association of Lominsan alliances.  Both were particularly known for their bladework and one, the other, or both were dogged by rumors that they were members of the Upright Thieves.  Less of a rumor were how close the two had become over time. Too close.  B’cossen Tia was attacked one day by an irate Nunh of the Boar Tribe, and though he escaped with one minor wounds the pair nevertheless fled across the ocean to the distant land of Hingashi, where both had previously come to know the open port of Kugane.  Though foreigners, only a fool would have turned a blind eye to such talented infighters, and the pair found steady employment in their new home.  

Top (right): Lord Takanobu Akechi

A minor lord whose land bordered the port city of Kugane, Takanobu had an eye on expanding his family’s fortunes and was quick to snatch up the services of the two wayward miqo’te.  Lord Akechi had no small talent for the blade himself, and together they trained a small but ferocious cadre of samurai and ninja which the Bakufu would call upon to serve as secret police and enforcers on the westernmost of Hingashi’s islands.

But dangerous work entails dangerous risks, and during one back-alley battle Cossen was stung by a poisoned blade.  Though he did not die at once, he suffered severe nerve damage which forced the end of his career as a fighter.  With Grayn pregnant at the time, the pair feared being driven from Lord Akechi’s service, but fortunately they had chosen a cunning and thoughtful patron, and were not forced to endure a second exile from their home.

Bottom (left): Tomoe Akechi

The daughter of Lord Akechi was born mere weeks apart from Grayn’s own child.  Takanobu joked that he would keep the miqo’te around so that the girl would have a playmate to grow up with.  In truth Grayn would be well-placed to serve as a bodyguard to the little girl, a fact which would prove tragically crucial some short years later, when a rival house sent an assassin to eliminate the child.  Though she saved her charge and struck down the attacker, B’grayn Zinba did so at the cost of her own life.  Boiling with rage, B’cossen Tia took up his blades and he and Takanobu Akechi led a reprisal which struck down every armed man and woman they could find, all but wiping out the rival house in an act reminiscent of Hingashi’s Age of Blood.  It would prove the undoing of the miqo’te, however, as the exertion (and, some said, the heartbreak) accelerated the nerve damage which had already left him too vulnerable to a foe’s blade.  He would not return to the house of his lord.

For her own part, Tomoe Akechi grew into an energetic young woman with fond memories of the cat-woman who had helped to raise her.  Much like her father she showed great talent for the art of fighting, wielding a naginta with superlative skill.  Though possessed of great beauty and grace, she hoped to make a name for herself first as a commander rather than a wife.  Ever at her side was the progeny of her girlhood nurse and guardian, a pair so close they were said to be like sisters.

Bottom (middle): B’aiken Cossen

In the Hingan tongue ‘baiken’ means ‘boisterous plum,’ a name believed to have been derived from the way she screamed upon her entry into the world and the days following.  It proved to be an enduring name, as the miqo’te child took eagerly to first crawling, then walking, running, jumping, swimming, and even swinging from the trees with no end of energy.  Brash and headstrong, she frequently fought with other local children, though she was always fiercely protective of her childhood friend Tomoe.  

B’aiken’s parents took the first steps of training her to fight, though after their passing she was forced to find other teachers, that she might keep up with Tomoe’s own growth.  Fortunately for her, the girl would prove to grow up tall for one of her kind, blessed with great strength and quickness, her reflexes seemingly almost supernatural at times...as such she was said to possess a ‘third eye’ which saw into the spirit world and perceived an attack before it even happened.

Bottom (right): Nanigashi Shishido

A ronin of no small renown, Nanigashi was considered a relic from the Age of Blood.  Wandering the lands of Hingashi and as far away as Doma to sell his services as a warrior, he was a master of the blade second to none.  His lackadaisical manner and the way he offered his blade to anyone with coin, however, saw his reputation tarnished in the eyes of the Hingan nobility.  Perhaps for that reason he went looking for a student, someone he could train in the way of the blade and thereby cement his legacy. His path took him through the Akechi estate and there he crossed paths with B’aiken, then a mere twelve years of age.  Despite that, the young girl caught the eye of the aging samurai with a ferocity and skill with a practice sword that far eclipsed her age.  So it was that she left her own for the first time, following in his footsteps.  By all accounts it began as a contentious relationship, with the girl constantly pushing for her sensei to train her further, impatient to master the sword.  

Despite that, as master and pupil they formed a deep bond.  Nanigashi would one day be struck down in a duel by the legendary Musosai, called to account for rendering his services to thieves and bandits.  Though she grieved her teacher, B’aiken honored his wishes and rather than strike the aging Musosai down in vengeance, she instead took up her master’s blade and returned home at age nineteen, now named B’aiken Shishido.

.

At the time of the Battle of Ghimlyt, B’aiken Shishido is aged thirty-five.

Having last her right arm and left eye in battle years ago, the embittered ronin was often seen on the streets of Kugane, typically with a jug of sake somewhere on her person.  Rumors and memories of a disaster ten years past following in her wake, in the end she pursued the path left by her teacher and sold her blade to any willing to pay.  Despite her slovenly appearance and foul attitude she rarely wanted for work, for seemingly in mockery to her past tragedies her skill with the blade had only grown over the years.

Hingashi itself remained a land closed to outsiders, however.  As such when a strange miqo’te named X’shasi ( @shasi-ffxiv​ ) came to Kugane seeking blades to be raised against strange happenings in the Ruby Sea, B’aiken Shishido was the only mercenary willing to take up the cause.  It was the Scions of the Seventh Dawn who finally identified the curious talent the Hingan catwoman possessed - the Echo, delivered in a form that permitted B’aiken to ‘read’ the aether of a foe and anticipate their actions.  It was a talent that would prove supremely useful when she followed them to the land of her ancestors and took part in the freeing of Ala Mhigo.  From there it would be a long road to walk to heal wounds unseen inflicted by the tragedies of the past.

Notes on names-

B’cossen is named for John Coxon, a 17th century buccaneer.

B’grayn is named for 16th century Irish heroine Grainne O’Malley. (Zinba is a suggested miqo’te surname.)

Takanobu is named for Takanobu Matsura, a 16th century samurai lord who did business with European traders, while the name Akechi is taken from Samanosuke Akechi, protagonist of the Onimusha game series.

Tomoe is named for Tomoe Gozen, a 12th century female samurai

B’aiken is, of course, a port of Baiken from the Guilty Gear game series.

The name Baiken Shishido or Nanigashi Shishido originates from a samurai said to have supposedly fought a duel with Miyamoto Musashi.

Further note on B’aiken’s name-

Because her parents died when she was so young, and because she was raised in a foreign land, although the structure of her name indicates she is a member of the Boar Tribe, B’aiken doesn’t pronounce the B as an extended ‘Bee’ the way it ought.  In addition, her proper name is not ‘Aiken’, because in Hingan ‘aiken’ means ‘dog.’  Which does not indicate great foresight on the part of her parents.  After coming to Eorzea, the irascible ronin once nearly threw down with M’naago Rahz after being asked if she went by Aiken.  Fortunately others were present to smooth things over.