#heartfelt reunion with his brother he thought was long dead in the war and is exonerated of murder

[andromedasummer]

been very slowly going through the phryne fisher novels (on blood and circuses rn) and its reminded me of one of the episodes in season 2 of the tv adaptation (i think? maybe season 3) where the plot revolved around university students at a Melbourne college abd the murder of a professor, and one of the main characters who is briefly posited as a murder suspect is an autistic woman working as a student helper to the professor (its not like. explicitly said bcos the show is set in the 1930s) and its somehow... one of the more accurate and sensitive depictions of an autistic person ive seen in tv media? shes shown to be stand-offish and awkward and uncomfortable in social situations and the character that torments her about this is very clearly The Bad Person And Asshole. When questioning her about the murder Phryne actively finda a way to talk to her in a way shes comfortable with (both nose to nose against a wall, some distance from one another, not making eye contact, speaking quietly because this entire situation has pretty much sent her into a meltdown ). when they realize shes at risk of being harmed phryne has her stay at her home. shes shown to be incredibly passionate about her area of study in the university (a bit of it plays into the savant stereotype which is one of the few issues prevalent in media about autistic people like the good doctor, etc, but uts not presented as like "oh shes autistic BUT shes really smart about this thing and basically a superhero so its okay") shes shown to have specific dietary requirements shes adamant about (jam sandwiches only.) and the other characters are like "oh! weird. actually, thats not my business. let me grab you one." and she develops a really lovely friendship with phryne that ties into the whole plot and motive for the murder (another professor killing the murdered professor so he can prevent information which disprove his biological and sociological research which is based entirely on eugenics and psuedoscience, which the murder victim found disgusting and didnt want taught when his assistants existence literally disproved that bullshit) and i don't know how to finish this i guess i wasnt expecting a genuine attempt at properly representing autistic people in this show about murders in the 1930s

[sparklyicecube]

Drabbles of a group of not-normal girls

Merry Christmas everyone! This is my secret santa gift for @emmamemea and I must admit when I first saw the favourite characters list none of them overlapped with mine but I had fun researching and writing them! Disclaimer: I didn’t have that good of a grasp on their characters so I thought it’d be safer writing a bunch of short drabbles rather than long fic, enjoy!

Valentines day:

“P-Please accept my chocolates at least!” Megu didn’t know what to do, here was yet another underclassmen who was trying to give her chocolates. She sighed, the difficulty of rejecting so many was painful at best.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept these, please respect that.” The young girl looked up at her with heartbroken eyes.

“At-at least take them then I promise you don’t need to talk to me ever again! We might not be allowed to date but taking some chocolates won’t be too bad right?” The girl held out the chocolates with her face parallel to the ground, Megu knew she should say no but took it anyway.

The girl lit up and thanked her, running away in glee.

“Megu!” The girl in question jumped slightly and turned to face the group of eavesdroppers, they were really obvious about eavesdropping but somehow the underclassmen student didn’t notice.

Yada sighed, “Megu, I thought you said you were going to to not accept this one. You know it gives them the wrong idea.” Yada took the box of chocolates out of Megu’s hands, putting it into the large bag that they already accumulated.

“I tried, but she seemed so pitiful…”

“We should go out!” Everyone looked at Okuda, her little outburst having taken a bit of courage. “Everyone always said that it’s the best way to get over a bad experience so we should try it!” Looking at Okuda’s determined face they couldn’t help but chuckle, agreeing with her.

“It settled then! Girl’s day out!”

The first place they went to was the mall, deciding that good food and shopping would be fun.

...that didn’t go as planned.

None of the girls were really that into shopping, though they did manage to find some cute outfits for some of them.

“Yada, this would look so good on you!” Of course, Yada’s body fit the most clothing, her features accentuating the clothes and making some people feel a bit more insecure about their own body types. They managed to all get at least one article with mild interest but the real kicker came when they were eating.

“Do you think Korosensei is actually that bad at spying or is he making it obvious so we are aware of it?” 

“Well-”

“EVERYBODY!” The entire restaurant turned to look at some table, with a girl standing on top of it and a boy sitting what would have been across from her. “WE HAVE BEEN FRIENDS FOR OVER FIVE YEARS, I HAVE NOT MANAGED TO GET INTO THE SAME CLASS AS HIM, BUT I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I REALLY LIKE KYOU-CHII.” The girl turned to the shocked boy and whipping out a bouquet and chocolates, said: “Will you be my boyfriend?”

The boy looked up at her with starry eyes. “Y-yes!”

The entire restaurant was clapping and cheering with the girls politely clapping along and decided that maybe they should retire from the mall after all.

The park was where they decided to hit next, with Kurahashi saying that nature was the best way to distract oneself from the human world.

Though the park was nice, the amount of happy couples around was unpleasant to say the least, and seemed to occupy every bit of the park.

“I saw some really nice green dragonflies here last week-” Kurahashi rambled as she pulled open some shrubbery to reveal a cove that had two people making out.

“Bitch-sensei couldn’t get more hits than that.” Commented Fuwa, as they walked towards the edges of the park.

“What about we all go to my house? A good sleepover where there can literally be no one else! Except my brother.” Suggested Yada. 

They all agreed, and a sleepover it was!

Valentines Day aside, the girls had a heartfelt day spending time with one another, hanging out, and an entire night of fun! (Minus the pillow fight because that wasn’t fun, that was brutal war training). 

Megu might still be learning how to say no but at least she had a group of friends that would help her along the way.

The trials of a flight attendant who trained to be an assassin:

“Welcome! Hope you have a pleasant flight! Can I check your boarding pass? Okay, your seat is on the left in the back.” Megu had gone through the rigorous training and application process to become a flight attendant, with relatively no issue. Her training from the E-Class got her to the top of the batch and she was able to handle emergency situations, heavy lifting, service training and all in heels, she passed with flying colours.

This flight was particularly special because several of her fellow E-Class classmates were on it too, mostly by coincidence of course. 

Okuda and Kurahashi were headed to some science conference in the US, Fuwa was over there to negotiate discuss with a publishing house over there and Yada said she had wanted to relax for a holiday. They all agreed to meet up with each other at some point but for now Megu was pretty happy just knowing they were all on the same plane, it was like a a little reunion!

“Excuse me miss it seems like there’s something we need to discuss with you about your layover.” Yada looked up at Megu, currently sporting a tight bun and a very cute flight attendant outfit.

“Sure, no problem.” Yada replied, getting up from her seat and following Megu to one of the areas where there was no other flight attendants.

“Yada.”

“Megu! I haven’t seen you in person for awhile!” 

“What are you doing.”

“Ehhh? I thought you’d be happy to see me, this isn’t a very proper way to greet a passenger.”

As quick as a flash, Megu had grabbed Yada’s wrist, spun her around and slid the pin out of her hair, clicking it open to reveal a small vial.

Megu pulled Yada close to her, to prevent others from hearing, though they were alone, pressing her mouth close to Yada’s ear.

“You can’t kill him on board, are you crazy?”

Yada easily twisted out of Megu’s grip and smiled putting a finger on Megu’s lips.

Megu glared at Yada, “I thought you said you wanted to use your skills for negotiation?”

“This is called a negotiation breakdown.”

“Why do it on a plane? Do it on a cruise!” Megu hissed, “People die there all the time!”

“Do they really?” Asked Fuwa, popping out from behind Megu���s shoulder with a notepad in hand.

“Fuwa!” The two exclaimed, with very different emotions.

“Why are you here?” Asked Megu, feeling a very specific headache coming on.

“I’m on this flight too, plus a good manga editor always looks for good inspiration.” Fuwa winked at her then turned to Yada, “Mind telling me what made negotiations breakdown this badly?”

Yada smiled, “That, is unfortunately confidential.”

“That substance is too obvious, if you try this one it’ll look like he just had a heart attack.”

“Okuda! Don’t help her!”

“Ooh do I also inject under the tongue to have it heal quickly?” Asked Yada, intrigued.

“Mhm!”

Megu sighed, they did make a pact to help each other no matter what but this wasn’t exactly what she had expected when they made that pact.

“It’s like a nice reunion before we even land!” Exclaimed Kurahashi.

“Why are you even here?” Asked Megu, tired.

“I’m going to the science conference too remember? The same that Okuda and Yada’s target is going to! I also sensed drama and this guy wanted to see.” A small, (venomous by the looks of it) snake wormed out of Kurahashi’s sleeve.

“How did you get that through security?” Asked Megu, concerned.

“Him and his mom lay very still and they looked like ropes, they’re cold blooded and very well behaved.”

“Flight attendant, flight attendant, you don’t need to revamp the entire airport security system.” Muttered Megu to herself.

While the few bickered and chatted as if talking about shopping, the seatbelt sign came on, the plane having encountered turbulence. Megu used that as an opportunity to usher them off, a fond smile on her face appearing as she saw them waving at her as they innocently went to their seats.

Yada walked back to her seat with a bright smile on her face, Okuda’s vial now in the syringe in her pin. There were plenty of ways to kill the guy she was after without tipping off that it was her, but this way meant that the airline wouldn’t get in trouble either.

Megu discreetly checked on their body bags, there wasn’t anyone in first class so they could move the person there when needed, hopefully Yada would do it naturally and the man would seem dead by accident.

When they touched down on American soil Megu sighed in relief, a few more checks and she could be going out with the girls and catching up without the stress of being on a plane.

Then afterwards she needed to work on changing the airport security system.

Author’s note that I couldn’t slip in but thought was a fun fact when researching for this drabble: Flight attendants cannot declare a person legally dead, the country they land in has to do that instead. Also, I now know even more ways to get away with murder :)

The powers of deduction:

“What else do you think will happen?” 

Fuwa smirked, her powers of deduction heightened from reading intense plot-based mangas.

“Well, from what I can tell, those two,” she said pointing her pencil towards a pair of students sitting on a cafe table a bit further away, “have the typical, ‘I hate you but we’re being forced to do a group project together’, they will probably end up in love or at least a love triangle. That group,” she pointed her pencil towards a group of people, “are all fighting for that one girl’s attention but she doesn’t know it because she’s dense. 10 chapters in when the readers are all on the edge of their seats in anticipation she will find out and intense love drama ensues where she is intensely confused but gets together with that green-haired one. Then she gets a scholarship overseas.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Exclaimed Kurahashi, Fuwa basking in the praise.

“That’s fun but that only really happens in mangas and stuff, those guys might just be normal friends.” Megu pointed out.

Fuwa glanced at Megu, then towards Yada and smirked.

“Okay, well then, I predict there’s another story right in our very class.”

“I know! That there’s a supermonster that is going to kill the earth but has a dramatic and tragic backstory that for some reason this group of junior-high students have to kill?” Kurahashi offered.

“Everyone knows that, something more interesting.” Fuwa smirked. “I predict that these two” pointing to Yada and Megu, “Aren’t going to realise their love for one another, ignore it all of their schooling lives and one day… Okuda play along with me.”

“O-ok?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry for bumping into you.”

“Uh, no problem! I was the one at fault…”

“Omg, I haven’t seen you for such a long time, we should really,” Fuwa brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, “catch up.” She said, waggling her eyebrows exaggeratedly. 

“Yes! We should um, meet at a cafe?”

“Then they’re at the cafe like, ‘Oh it’s so nice to see you again, it really was so fun.’”

“You’re going?”

“Unfortunately yes, you see… I’m engaged.”

Okuda gasped, unsure what to do next.

Fuwa decided to then play her role for her, “‘No! Please! Don’t go!,’ ‘I’m sorry, but I must.’ ‘But you don’t understand! I- I love you!’ ‘What?’ “Ever since junior-high in the E-Class whe-”

“Okay that’s enough.” Megu declared, tips of her ears having turned pink and an annoyed but embarrassed face. Yada had turned away slightly with her hand covering her face.

“Okuda! Your acting was so good!” Yada exclaimed, the others still noting with amusement the slight tint of pink brushed onto her cheeks.

“Was it? It was hard to think on the spot…”

“Definitely! I might even cast you as the student who helps them get in touch way later.” Fuwa joked.

The group laughed, after all, Fuwa’s scenarios don’t always come true.

Sometimes.

[poisonivysparks]

Drugged Up Confessions {Peter Maximoff X Reader}

People stared at me while they drove by. I was laying in a ditch on the side of the road, left for dead. Sure, I looked almost completely different from a normal person, but it was no reason not to do anything about a person stuck on the side of the road.

I looked different because I was purple, had sharp teeth, bright gold eyes, and a long, spade-like tail. Over the course of ten years, I had been experimented on, tested, and tortured in a lab with other people, just like me.

The only person I had really seen, was a man with curly, red hair and lots of freckles on his chubby cheeks. He had disappeared about a year ago and I hadn’t seen him since then.

I curled up into a fetal position in a futile attempt to keep myself warm, since the winds were howling above me. I tried to think of when times were better, even though they were still kind of bad. I thought of my times in the Munich Circus with my twin, Kurt, or Nightcrawler as they called him back then.

We had been close, up until the time I had been bought by a man named Bolivar Trask. I was sent to his laboratory in America, it was one of the most horrible things that had ever happened to me.

I still had a slight German accent from my time in Germany, it had never gone away, nor faltered.

Suddenly, a car stopped and somebody got out.

“Are you okay?” An unfamiliar man’s voice asked, in a tender tone.

“I-I’m alright.” I sat up, sniffling. He looked really nice, nerdy glasses, a tiny bit of stubble, and a kind face. He had a yellow aura around him, meaning that he was happy.

“I-I can take you to a safe place, for people like us, I promise that I won’t hurt you. I’m Hank McCoy, a teacher there.” He said, putting a hand out for me to grab.

“What do you mean, ‘like us?’” I asked him, pulling myself up.

“We’re mutants, I work at a school for mutants.” He told me, walking over to his car.

“A-are you sure you are not going to hurt me?” I asked, following him wearily.

“I promise.” He said simply, opening the passenger door for me.

I entered the car, trusting him completely, I could always teleport out if I wanted to.

We drove for a while in silence, I felt quite awkward. He ended up pulling down a nice looking driveway with trees around it.

A few teens, about my age, were hanging around the trees, smoking and laughing with their friends, it was winter, but they didn’t seem to mind. They were all happy, a yellow aura around them.

Little patches of snow were on the ground since it was January. The air was frigid and cold, ice covering the road.

Hank turned into a garage, parking the car right after, went over to the passenger side door, and opened it for me.

“Th-thank you.” I stuttered, getting out of the car, my long and outgrown hair flowing behind me.

“It’s no problem. Now, come with me, the Professor will want to see you.” He told me, walking out of the garage, out into the freezing air.

“The Professor?” I asked, following him. He went up to a large, oak door and knocked.

“You’ll see in a second.” He told me, a happy aura around him, just like everybody else on the property.

“Hank?” A British voice said as the door opened, he had brown hair, blue eyes, and was in a wheelchair. “Why are you knocking?”

Hank motioned to me, and the Brit’s eyes widened at the sight of me. “I found her on the side of the road, she might’ve been from the old Trask Industries laboratory.”

The Brit turned his attention to me. “What’s your name, dear?” He asked me tenderly.

“Y/n Wagner.” I said, a little self-conscious about my accent.

“Hello, Y/n.” He smiled kindly. “I’m Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my school.” We walked inside, well, Charles rolled. I followed Charles into, what looked like, an office. “Would you mind telling me what happened before Hank found you?”

“Well, up until I was about nine, I was in ze circus with my twin, Kurt. Then, I was bought by Bolivar Trask, and tested on in America. Oh, I also saw this boy, he had curly, red hair, lots of freckles and kind of chubby cheeks.” I told them as their faces dropped.

“Sean? Was his name Sean?” Charles asked, looking frantic.

“I do not know, I’m sorry,” I told them.

“Well, I think we need to get you a room.” Charles smiled sadly, a blue aura around him.

~Time Skip to June~

I had been living on the campus for six months and made a friend, just one, her name was Jean. She was also a social outcast, just like me, except she didn’t have any appearance altering powers. We had somehow made friends with the new kid, Scott. Jean obviously liked him, her aura turning pink whenever she was around him. I admired their subtle affections towards each other.

I hadn’t told anybody, except Jean, about what happened before I got to the school, I hid all of my emotions behind a smile and took on everybody else’s problems to cover my own.

I was sitting on a couch with Jubilee and Jean, Scott had gone off to do God-knows-what.

I heard two sets of approaching footsteps and looked up from the conversation we were having. I saw Scott walk through and- my breath caught in my throat, it seemed like I was suffocating, quickly, I leap to my feet.

“K-Kurt? B-bruder(brother)?” My voice cracked as tears sprung to my eyes. Yellow eyes, mirroring my own, made contact with me.

“Schwester? (Sister)” I ran up to Kurt and tackled him into a hug. We tumbled across the floor slightly as we held each other close and twined our tails as a sign of affection. Happy tears streamed down my face as we hugged each other sitting on the ground. He had a bright yellow aura around him and tears in his eyes.

“Bruder, es war zu lang. Ich habe dich sehr vermisst.” (Brother, it has been too long. I have missed you dearly.) We started a small conversation in German as we still held each other, craving the contact of the other half of our souls, even if we weren’t twins we would have been very close, but being twins just made us even closer.

I heard a cough interrupt our conversation, I looked up to see Jean, Jubilee, and Scott staring, they seemed to be speechless at our heartfelt reunion.

“Sorry, sorry. This is my twin, Kurt Vagner.” We stood up, our tails still intertwined, as if we let go the other would disappear, which is quite possible because we could both teleport.

“We can tell...” Scott said as I put my five-fingered hand into Kurt’s three-fingered one.

“I still can’t believe that it’s been ten years since I’ve seen you, Y/n.” Kurt said, looking at me.

“I know, I’ve missed you,” I told him as he hugged me tightly.

“Y’know, these two have never been to a mall before, why don’t we show them some real American culture?” Scott said, and the two girls agreed.

“I heard the new Star Wars movie is in theaters, we could get the two some new clothes,” Jean suggested.

“Does anybody know where the Professor keeps his cars?” Scott asked, looking at all of us.

“I do.” I raised my hand up.

“Great.” He smiled evilly.

~Time Skip~

It was now August and super hot, me and Kurt had become practically attached at the hip. He knew all of my secrets and I knew all of his. Peter and I had also become close, we had been assigned as roommates since the boys’ dorms were all full. I had a slight crush on Peter, but I knew he wouldn’t love me back.

“Ich weiß, dass du ihn magst. (I know you like him)” Kurt told me as we sat down on a bench in the hedge maze.

“Kurt, Ich tue nicht. (I do not)” I told him, my cheeks heating up.

“Ja, Sie tun, versuchen Sie es nicht zu leugnen. (Yes, you do, don’t deny it)” He told me, poking at my sides. I laughed and slapped his hand away.

A silver blur crossed by us and I knew exactly who it was. Peter.

“Why do you guys always talk in German? Nobody ever knows what the hell you’re saying.” Peter said, squishing between me and the arm of the concrete bench.

“That’s the point.” I smiled at him, and a weird purple aura appearing around him, I had no idea what it meant.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like it.” He huffed, the purple becoming green, I didn’t know what the green meant either.

“Well, you have to deal with it.” I told him, crossing my arms playfully. Suddenly, the loud bell rang, signaling that we were late for our next class, which just happened to be training.

“Fuck, why am I always late?” He said and sped off, leaving me and Kurt to teleport there.

We did just that and got scolded a little bit by Mystique, she didn’t seem to like us very much.

Mr. McCoy started up the Danger Room and robots emerged from the wall, all we had to do was fight them for a while.

My brother and I were teaming up on the robot, while the others had their own robots to fight. Kurt and I were doing really well, until, suddenly, the robot swung at me, knocking me against the wall.

I fell to the ground and tried to teleport, but I just flashed red and stayed in the same spot.

Mystique and Kurt immediately ran over to me.

“No! My baby.” Mystique ran to my side and started stroking my hair, her aura was blue and pink, sadness and love.

“Why did you call me that?” I asked, coughing up a little bit of blood.

“I-I....” She trailed off and then I noticed the slight similarities between her and Kurt’s face.

“Are you my” I asked, suddenly realizing something. “Mutter?” (Mother)

She nodded, and Kurt looked at her in shock.

I felt extremely tired, and closed my eyes. “No! Y/n, please don’t fall asleep.” Kurt’s voice sounded distant and echoey.

~!Peter’s PoV!~

I sat next to Y/n’s unconscious body, she had gotten knocked out earlier that day and had only woken up in two-minute segments, spouting absolute nonsense, because of the medicine McCoy gave her. Kurt and Mystique were in and out, they both started crying when they saw her, though.

I saw her eyes flutter open and she sits up a bit, seeming to be in a daze. She looks over to me with a puzzled look on her face and I heard her speak.

“Kevin? Is that you?” Wait… who the hell is Kevin? I thought to myself, But she continued to babble, thinking I was this Kevin person.

“Kevin, I need to get something off of my chest.” She slurred to me.

“I am madly in love, with an oblivious idiot that can’t take a hintttt…” She elongated the word hint. Wait… I looked into her eyes.

“Who is the idiot you're in love with (Y/n)?”

“His name is Peter, I like to call him Quicksilver though.” She slurred to me, and my face turned bright pink.

“He doesn’t realize that I like him, zough, because he can’t take a hint” She whined like a child to me and my face became redder than it was already.

“I’m sure he likes you too (Y/n).” As I tried to get her to lay down to sleep again, red faced as a tomato.

“Do you really think that?” She asked, closing her eyes.

“Yes, I really do.” Her breathing slowed and her whole body relaxed.

| Y/n’s PoV | (In a Nightmare)

I was trapped in a room, crying. All of my closest friends, Jean, Scott, Jubilee, my family, Kurt and Mystique, and the one person that I loved with all of my heart, Peter.

They were all screaming in agony, held down by leather straps and being electrocuted. The big window in front of me was all I could look through, and it terrified me, their auras were all bright red, they were in intense pain. I tried to teleport out of there, do something, but I couldn’t.

“That’s horrible.” A voice said from beside me, I turned my head to see Sean.

“Everybody I know is in there.” I told him, tears leaking out of my eyes.

“You do realize that Trask industries closed down last month, right?” He crossed his arms and I looked at him in shock.

“W-what is this then?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Some people call it a hallucination, but most people call it a dream.” He leaned up against the wall, arms crossed.

“How do I get out?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“I dunno, I’m just kinda here.” He shrugged his shoulders, walking around freely.

“I heard that some people have to die to get out of their dreams,” I told him, trying to move my legs and succeeding. I walked over to him and tried to touch him, but he was transparent and ghost-like.

“Wake up, Y/n, please.” I heard an echoey voice from somewhere far off, I couldn’t tell who it was. “Everybody’s worried about you.”

The voice sounded familiar, but it was distorted and seemed lower than it was supposed to be.

I looked through the window and saw that Peter was gone, the straps were still tied and nothing had moved, but Peter was not there.

I curled up into a fetal position, completely scared of what would happen, I stayed there for what seemed like hours, the voice fading away.

Quickly, I closed my eyes, hoping to go back to the real world, where I could be with my family and my friends.

~In the Real World~

I sat up, my eyes wide open, nobody was in the bland, all white, infirmary. “Peter? Kurt? Jean? Mystique?” I called out, my voice echoing throughout the room.

I heard footsteps and a ‘bamf.’

“Y/n!” Kurt’s accented voice rang out and he hugged me tightly, his aura was bright yellow.

“Kurt, you are squishing me.” I told him as he let go.

“Sorry,” He apologized. “You passed out about six hours ago and I vas worried about you.” He said.

Mystique rushed in, about a minute after her son and her aura the same as her sons. “We heard your voice.” She said, hugging me.

“I’m okay, I promise,” I told them, hugging her tightly.

“Peter was in here for a while.” Kurt told me and my cheeks flushed fuchsia. “He was worried, just like the rest of us, stayed here longer than any of us.”

“He was?” I asked, a hopeful tone in my voice.

“Well, yeah.” Kurt said plainly as I tried to get up. He held me down and pushed me into the hard bed.

“Kurt! I want to get up! I’m feeling a lot better.” I told him, crossing my arms and pouting.

“I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea, Y/n.” Mystique told me, sitting down on the bedside chair.

“Why can’t we just ask Mr. McCoy?” I asked, a little mad.

“I can go ask him.” Kurt volunteered, raising his hand.

“Thank you. Kurt.” I hugged him and he bamfed away.

He came back after a few minutes, Hank in tow. Hank quickly went over to the IV machine that was hooked up to my arm, his aura was a soft yellow.

“You’re vital’s are good, does anything hurt?” He asked and I nodded.

“I’m a little sore, but otherwise, I’m good. May I get out of this bed now?” I smiled at him, trying to use my adorableness in my favor.

“Yeah, you can, just don’t do anything drastic, you’re in recovery.” He told me, unhooking the IV from my vein.

“Thank you!” I got up and hugged him, my limbs incredibly sore.

I teleported to Kurt’s side and our tails intertwined.

“You guys are adorable.” Mystique said, laughing a little bit. “My two babies.”

Hank looked completely lost and confused, looking between Me, Kurt, and Mystique. “Did something happen, or..?”

“Are really that blind, Hank?” Mystique asked, laughing.

“I don’t know, I mean, I do wear glasses.” He said, adjusting his glasses.

“These are my kids.” She laughed as Hank’s eyes widened.

“W-what?” He stuttered. “So, um, you guys are Darkhölme’s?”

“I-I guess so.” Kurt said, resting his elbow on the top of my head.

“Get is off of me, Kurt. I am not a baby.” I grumpily pushed his arm off, giving Kurt the stink eye.

“Okay, Y/n, you should probably go get some exercise,” Hank said, smiling at me and Kurt.

“Alright.” I smiled back at him and bamfed out of the room and into the garden, leaving Kurt behind.

Peter was sitting on the same concrete bench that Kurt and I were sitting on earlier that day, a few purple flowers in his hands. It was almost completely dark outside and he looked kind of sad, his aura was blue with green tips.

“Peter!” I yelled waving my hand.

He heard my voice and looked right at me, his aura turning a bright yellow. “Y/n! You’re awake! I was worried that you wouldn’t wake up.” He ran over and hugged me, purple tips appearing around him. He easily lifted me up in the air and my cheeks turned a bright fuschia.

“Peter, you’re squishing me.” I told him, laughing a little bit. The flowers laid slightly damaged in his hands.

“Oh, sorry.” He said, his aura becoming slightly more purple. He set me down, me being very short compared to him.

“It’s alright.” I smiled, showing off my fangs a little bit.

“These are kind of for you, sorry that they’re squished.” His cheeks turned pink and the tips of his purple/yellow aura also became pink.

“It’s alright,” I told him, graciously taking the flowers from him. “They are beautiful, even if they are a little squished.”

“I found them and I wanted to give them to you.” He said, taking a step away from me.

“Thank you.” I told them, smelling the slightly damaged flowers.

“I want to show you something. Come with me, please?” He asked, excitement evident in his hazel eyes.

“Alright.” I smiled and he held me, his hand behind my neck.

“We’ll be there in a second, okay?” He said, a little concerned.

“Okay.” I said and he rushed off, stopping in a very thick patch of trees.

“We’re almost there, it’s just up ahead.” He told me, taking my hand in his and walking at a, surprisingly, slow pace.

“What is it, Peter?” I asked, following him towards a particularly thin patch of trees.

“I can’t tell you that.” He smiled, a mischievous look in his eyes.

We walked into the middle of the thin patch of trees, where a very comfy looking blanket was lying down on the ground.

“I come here almost every night, and just stargaze.” He told me, lying down on the blanket.

“I’ve only been stargazing once in my life, Kurt and I ended up getting in trouble. It vas nice while it lasted.” I told him, lying down next to him, the blanket was very fluffy and warm. His aura turned slightly green, but still yellow.

“Well, now you get to do it with me.” He booped my nose and I giggled slightly.

We watched the stars for a while, pointing out all of the constellations that we knew and some that we didn’t.

“You’re adorable, y’know that?” He said, looking at me, while I pointed out another constellation that I made up.

“W-what do you mean?” I asked, flustered as his aura turned completely pink.

“You. I love you.” He said, looking away from me and back up at the stars. “I love how innocent and adorable you are, I love the faraway look you always have in your eyes. You smile so much and I was so worried that you wouldn’t wake up. Sometimes, it makes me jealous because of the relationship that you have with your brother. You two are adorable and when you talk in German it kinda turns me on. I just love you and I feel like this is all so sudden and I just…”

His words made my cheeks flush and my brain not be able to think clearly. I had no idea what to do so I crashed my lips into his, taking the speedster by surprise.

He kissed me back and it felt like the stars were shining and cheering for us, as if they knew it was going to happen. He easily dominated me, rolling on top as I was pushed even farther into the cosy blanket.

Our lips moved together ravenously, my hands were tangled into his slightly fluffy, silver hair and my tail was curled around his torso. His hands were resting on my hips, barely squeezing, but I could feel it.

We pulled away, breathing heavily, and our foreheads were touching.

“I love you too, Peter.” I smiled while he caressed my purple cheek.

“I think you said that already with your lips.” He chuckled, his hair completely messed up, and I laughed with him.

“I’ve sort of had a crush on you ever since we started sharing a room together.” I told him, embarrassed that I was actually telling him that.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a crush ever since I first saw you in that facility.” He told me. “And then when I first saw you laughing at my ‘I still live in my mom’s basement’ joke, I was completely head over heels.”

“You’re so sweet.” I hugged him and tackled him to the ground.

He flipped me over, very easily and gave me his signature cocky smirk. “You’ll never beat me, y’know.”

“I know.”  

Masterlist

[piouspromise]

Musiea has taken enough trips into town on her own that she’s prepared for trouble if it strikes. It’s been a long time since anyone has bothered her, but being ready for any foreseeable situation is something in which she takes some pride.

She’s eyeing a cart of fresh vegetables at the market when someone bumps into her. It’s busy enough, but it’s not especially crowded...and the next things she notices are a man in a cowl pushing past the other people around, and a lightened weight on one of her shoulders.

It doesn’t take much time at all for her to piece together what’s happened, and she wastes no time being surprised by it, instead breaking out into a run to pursue the thief. She calls out for him to stop, only to realize seconds later that doing so probably wasn’t the best idea. He breaks out into a run as well, making her have to run even faster.

She chases him down, beyond annoyed at her rotten luck, and even more worried about what might happen if she doesn’t catch up with this ruffian. She’d stopped to pick up Rosina’s medicine just before this, and trying to get it replaced could turn out to be costly and time-consuming, and she’d rather not place strain on the monthly budget if it can be avoided.

And then, her luck takes a turn for the better once again as the thief rounds a corner that turns out to lead to a dead end. The alley in which she finds herself is narrow, and for the first time, she’s able to see this man’s face. Something about it seems so...familiar. It’s strange...what is it about his appearance that makes her feel at ease in some ways, but in others, it makes her blood boil?

He moves like he wants to try and run past her, but in a flash, Musiea reaches into her boot and unsheathes a small dagger she keeps on her at times where carrying a sword isn’t the most convenient option. He freezes where he is, obviously not having expected her to be such a difficult target.

“What the hell?” he asks. “Do you always carry a knife on you?!”

“Call it a well-founded sense of paranoia,” she tells him simply. She’s certainly not wrong, having known more than a few shady characters in her life, and having ended up in a serious relationship with one such character.

He frowns, visibly annoyed that he picked such a troublesome target, and Musiea brandishes her blade, making it very clear that she’s not just carrying it around for show. For a while, the two of them just stare at each other, trying to figure out what the other might do next.

Strangely, the thief speaks first. “I can’t believe I made a dumbass move like that. I’m a way better navigator than some idiot who makes a turn into the wrong alley...but you caught me off guard! You sound just like...” He cuts himself off suddenly. “Never mind, it’s not important. I can’t go back empty-handed again.”

“I sound just like what?” Musiea asks him. She finds herself oddly intrigued by this whole situation...but why?

He doesn’t seem to want to answer at first, but it’s obvious he’s at her mercy in just about every way, and he eventually gives in. “You look and sound exactly like my mother.” Her jaw drops in surprise and offense, and he notices. “Not like that! I haven’t seen her since I was a little kid, just calm down...”

“I don’t believe you’re in any position to tell me to calm down,” she tells him. Once more, there’s an awkward sort of silence, and Musiea finds herself with another question. “So did she abandon you, then?”

“In a manner of speaking, though not really by choice. She’d only just recovered from being sick, but she got sick again and...”

“She passed on,” Musiea finishes.

“Yeah...so much for my father’s cowardly effort to save her.”

Father...that word makes Musiea realize, in an instant, why she feels this man seems so familiar. From his coloring, to the way his hair falls, to the way his eyebrows knit together when he seems to be remembering something unpleasant, everything about this man reminds her of her own father. That explains the anger that accompanies the sense of nostalgia...her father was always kind to her, and even the last time she’d ever seen him, he didn’t seem to be harboring any ill intent. In fact, the way she remembers it, when he was telling her to go with the thief that first brought her to Escher...he looked like he was about to cry.

His personal feelings aside, he still handed her over to criminals for reasons she still doesn’t know and likely never will know, and for that, she still hates him. She didn’t exactly have an easy time of it, and she could have had a much worse time if Escher hadn’t helped her escape on the day that trafficker had come by the hideout.

She sighs, realizing she’s been staring. “Sorry, you just...well, you look exactly like my father, and I’m only just now realizing it...”

The thief laughs. “That’s funny...I’ve always been told how much I take after my old man...down to my lack of a spine.”

“It’s pretty spineless to be stealing from people, I’ll admit,” Musiea says, not caring about her harshness. “Though, let me guess: your father is also deceased, and as an orphan, you supported yourself through a life of crime?”

“You don’t know a damn thing,” he shoots back. “I didn’t want to get involved in this life, but I didn’t have a choice...and I wanted to see my little sister again. My old man gave her up as payment for medicine for my mom. He admitted it before he died...”

Those words remind Musiea of why she pursued this man so relentlessly to begin with: the bag in his hands, or perhaps more specifically, the contents of said bag.

“Well, I’m not sure what a life of crime has to do with finding your sister, but...” She eyes her purse for a moment before looking up at the man again. “In that bag is a very important medicine for a sweet but frail little girl who believes she survived being deathly ill as a baby so that she can be a doctor when she grows up. She’s not the only child I look after...there are twenty more children, who all lost their parents during the war, that are under my care. If I don’t get that medicine back, I’ll have to buy a replacement bottle, and that may mean sacrificing some necessities for the other kids.”

She steels her nerves for a possible fight. “I don’t want to have to fight you to get it back, but I know that black-market prices for medicines like these can be quite high, and that you likely won’t just hand it over, but-”

He sighs, doing just that...and not only the medicine. He’s giving her back her entire purse.

“Here, take it,” he says. “You’re a good person, and I’m sorry to have troubled you. Yeah, Dom’s gonna be pissed I didn’t bring back anything today, but...I can’t let a kid suffer...”

The return of her purse is shocking enough, but even more shocking to Musiea is the name he says. Her oldest brother, Dominic, was often called Dom or Nic for short...and what little information this man has given her about himself is causing thoughts to swirl around in her head faster than she can process them.

His mother had been sick, and the medicine needed to cure her was more expensive than they could afford, so his father gave away one of their children...wherever that child was, there was the assumption that she was with criminals...the man before her looks to be close to Musiea’s age, and for him to resemble both his father and hers...and despite being a thief, he doesn’t want children to suffer...he’s a kind person...

Her hands begin to tremble so intensely that the dagger falls to the ground. Her voice utters a name so softly that it’s almost in a whisper.

“Luka...?” The name of her kind brother, two years her senior, who always bore a strong resemblance to their father. She hasn’t seen him since she was a little girl, but the way the man before her responds to the name answers her question before he can even say anything.

“How...how do you know my name?!”

By then, she can’t stop the tears from falling, but she smiles anyway. “I...I look that much like Mom? I s-still think she was much prettier...but then, you...w-were always so nice to me...!”

For a moment, he looks even more baffled, but then, his mouth opens slightly in surprise. “No way...Aida?!”

She nods, and she can’t stop herself from sobbing...especially not when her big brother starts crying as well, and for the first time in too long, the two siblings embrace each other.

“You...you always were such a crybaby...!” she tells him.

“T-Takes one to know one!” he says. “I can’t believe it...I always tried to hold onto hope that we’d find you again, but Vince just kept saying-“

“And when has Vincent ever said anything positive?” she asks him, unable to keep herself from pointing out her second oldest brother’s tendency to be sullen and moody. “I...I just can’t believe it! You’ve really been looking for me all this time?”

“Of course we have!” Luka assures her. “Dominic managed to get Dad to admit what he’d done, and we figured the best thing to do would be to try and work from the inside...but by the time we found a lead of any kind, we figured we were too late! The hideout for that gang looked like a massacre had taken place there, and when we asked around, they said the kid living there was a noble, and a boy...”

“So you found the right place...I just hadn’t been there for years!” She smiles, pulling back to look at her brother’s face as well as she can through her tears. For the first time since the surprising encounter, he actually looks happy.

“Either way...I’m going to have to tell the others! They’ll all want to see you!”

“And I want to see them! But...I have more shopping to do. And now I have to be even more on the lookout for purse thieves...” She shoots him a glare that’s fully meant to be teasing as she picks her dagger up, sheathes it again, and puts it back into the side of her boot.

He smiles apologetically, holding the bag out to her again. She wastes no time in taking it back and slinging it over her shoulder. “Really...I’m sorry about all that...”

“For now, I’ll overlook your line of work,” she tells him, placing her hands on her hips. “After all, I’d rather not ruin such a heartfelt reunion. That, and I know that even good people can be found in the most unsavory professions.”

“You always did know how to see the good in people,” Luka says.

“I don’t know about that...but I learned long ago not to judge people based upon what they do for a living. Times are hard, I know that much...” She sighs. “But I’ll have quite a lot to carry, so if you want to apologize, you can help me carry it all.”

He beams proudly. “I’ll do you one better: I’ll help, and on the off-chance you end up with more than you can carry, I know of four other guys who would love to help as well.”

She laughs, knowing right away what he means. “I’ll take you up on your offer, then.”

[annarosewriting]

Why The Hell Do You Like Bucky Barnes So Much?

We’re good friends at this point, we’ve had a few laughs, shed a few tears, I think it’s time to talk about what’s really important and that is Bucky Barnes. 

You’re probably all aware of the fact that Bucky Barnes is my pride and joy. What you’re probably still confused about (other than everything about me) is why.

He’s a secondary character! He’s said a total of maybe 50 words in all four movies he’s been in! He killed Tony Stark’s parents! His eyeliner skills leave something to be desired! Anna, why is this the one character that you’ve laid your loyalties down for? 

Because Bucky is the sad, tired boy of my dreams.  

Just kidding, it goes deeper than that. 

The Oscar-Nominated Film, Captain America: The Winter Soldier (CA:TWS) is The Best Marvel movie in my own professional opinion. Marvel could not have chosen a better movie to introduce their Second Phase. The Second Phase of Marvel movies focused less on origin story and more on character development and growth. And CA:TWS gives us a chance to strip away the “Star-Spangled Man with a Plan” facade and to see Steve for what he really is. A good man who wants to do right. 

CA:TWS changed the entire tone of the MCU as well. It humanized the Avengers, let us see the friendships that had formed between them. We got to experience the inside jokes, the day-to-day minutia that we don’t get to see when they’re busy saving the world. It was so different than anything Marvel had done up to this point that I wanted the Russo Brothers to be in charge of every Marvel movie for forever. 

And then I saw Infinity War and I took that that wish right back. The Russo Brothers will be receiving my therapist bills for the emotional damage they caused to my person after having to see my favs turn to dust in front of my own TWO SEEING EYES. 

But I digress, we have other things to talk about. For those of you who haven’t seen CA:TWS, go watch it right now and don’t come back until you’ve finished it. But for a quick recap, CA:TWS is about how someone is trying to take out Directory Fury and dismantle SHIELD. It’s up to Steve and Friends to figure out who’s behind this and take them down. 

In one of the biggest plot twists of all time, it turns out that the individual behind all of this is, SPOILER, Bucky Barnes. Captain America’s BFF. We got a bit of Bucky in the first Captain America movie, enough to know that Bucky went to science fairs for fun and that Steve would cross into Nazi occupied territory for him. (Which, honestly? Same.) 

People liked Bucky in the first movie, I was a big fan from the moment I saw him in that goddamn uniform, but it wasn’t anything like this. TWS was everywhere. My social media feed was consumed with pictures, fanart, and gifs about TWS.

And it just didn’t make sense! Bucky’s not Bucky in this movie! He’s a highly trained assassin! He’s dangerous! He’s got a sick metal arm! He’s armed to the teeth and only cares about killing! He’s got the best smoky eye I’ve ever seen! It’s wild! 

So why was I (and lots of other women) tagging our posts with TWS with tags like “my poor sweet bby”? 

It’s because after Bucky failed to take out Steve, Hydra’s briefing him. Alexander Pierce is slapping him around and yelling. After a few minutes of this they force Bucky back into submission and wipe his memory. 

They’ve been doing this to Bucky since they captured him in the 40′s. Bucky hasn’t had any autonomy over his body, his mind and essentially himself for the last 70 odd years. 

So did women just feel sympathetic because of our “mothering tendencies”? Nah. We were sympathetic because we related to him. 

We know what it’s like to not have agency over our bodies. What it’s like to be told what to do by men in power and not have a choice. What it’s like to have our minds and memories tampered with. 

We knew this pain, not to the same level Bucky has experienced it, but to a certain degree, we recognized it. We understood it and we wanted to treat it like how we treated our own pain. 

So we gave Bucky the care and love he deserved. Whether it was through art, (I’ve seen so many drawings of Bucky in a blanket and drinking tea) writing, (the amount of stories of Steve and Bucky having the heartfelt reunion they deserve warms my cold dead heart) or, if you’re me, you just yell at anyone who listens how Bucky deserves a NAP FOR GODS SAKE. But there was all of this and more as we tried to give this victim the recovery he deserves. 

Here’s the thing, it’s hard for me to explain in a non-heartbreaking way why I love Bucky as much as I do but I’ll do my best. 

To me, Bucky represents hope. Hope that I can come out of the other side of the trauma I’ve experienced with loyal friends, soft luscious hair and all of Wakanda backing me up. 

I’ve had to deal with my own emotional trauma, I’ve had to rebuild my life from the ground up. I’ve had to grapple with some regrettable actions from my past and learn how to forgive myself for those actions. Granted, these actions are more me having been an asshole and not so much MURDERING people but still, we’re working with what we’ve got. 

I sympathize with Bucky’s story and how he works so hard to overcome his past. I mean, I wish I didn’t relate to him in the “oh we both have pretty rough mental trauma’s we’re trying to come to terms with and deal with” and that we related more in the “we both have long beautiful hair and Steve Rogers would start a civil war for us” but again, we’re just working with what we have. 

It makes me hopeful when I see Bucky get the chance to grow, to get a second chance, to have friends like Sam and Steve, to have Shuri help him and to probably show him Vine compilation videos, to have T’Challa recognize that he’s a victim not a villain (AS IT SHOULD ALWAYS BE). 

Bucky helped me realize that your past does not define you, it shapes you, but it’s what you do moving forward that really counts. 

So next time someone asks why I like Bucky so much, instead of giving them the thoughtful, emotional answer I gave you, I think I’ll just look them dead in the eye, say “who the hell is Bucky” and then disappear in a cloud of smoke. It’s what Bucky would want. 

[fancymuffinparty]

The Gift

Rating: T; for language and mature themes

Pairing: Porco Galliard & Pieck

Summary: Regardless of what’s been marked on the calendar, it’s just another day as far as Porco Galliard’s concerned. The past several years have been anything but easy, and coping with his brother’s absence is painstakingly difficult- if not entirely obstructed by his own denial. 

At least he’s not alone. Pieck somehow makes this particular birthday a little less miserable.

Word Count: 2267

A/N: Happy birthday, Pokko! Here, have some angst!

I definitely plan on writing more for this pairing in the future. They’re just too precious! *Side eyes at the cliffhanger in chapter 99*

It sits on the desk in front of him, coated lightly in sparse traces of dust.

Swathed in a thin sheet of white parchment, the small box is adorned with a fixed knot made of flimsy ribbon. There’s a tag attached to the delicate fabric and a simple note that reads: To Porco, From Marcel.

It’s the birthday gift Marcel had given him before leaving for Paradis nine years prior. Porco had promised his brother he would wait until his return to open it, believing the heartfelt gesture would correlate perfectly with their reunion.

Unbeknownst to him at the time, that fateful day of Marcel’s departure would be the last time he’d ever see him. In a haze of fragmented memories, Porco recalls watching with precariously dread-filled eyes as Marcel had been shipped off with his warrior comrades, the trek sending them across hundreds of miles of treacherous waters to fulfill the ultimate mission.

Their families had been left in the dark for so long, wondering, waiting…

Perhaps the sum of their litanies and pleas to some form of higher power had been done in vain.

With the operation resulting in disastrous failure, Reiner had been the only one to make it back to Marley-  yet even the news of Marcel’s death had never truly stopped Porco from waiting.

Waiting for some semblance of closure to put his restlessness at ease. To shut out thoughts of his brother’s suffering. To keep the nightmares at bay.

To finally discover the mystery enclosed within the daunting gift box before him.

Even after all these years it’s managed to maintain decent condition. The wrapping paper is a bit weathered and its luster lacks the eerily charming radiance it had once possessed, but given that Porco rarely ever acknowledges it with so much as an unwonted glance, the box appears to have stood the test of time.

Time that hasn’t been so forgiving for him, nor his comrades.

The marks on the calendar lead up to the current date: November 11th.

And the only surviving son of the Galliard family sits alone in his quarters, confining himself to the barracks when most adolescents his age would rather be out celebrating and drinking themselves silly.

Porco has no desire to engage in elaborate festivities, not when he’s subject to torturous introspection at the manifestation of an inanimate object.

The momentary lapse in lucid thinking frustrates him to no end. He’s convinced he’s getting worked up over nothing.

In absentminded diversion, it’s curiosity that initially brings his fingers to trace the edges of his gift. Before he can consider unwrapping it, he immediately withdraws his hands, jolted back to reality upon the recollection of his promise.

He can’t open it. Not without Marcel.

His unyielding tenacity will suppress the impulses, the deceitful urges…

Because if he actually goes through with it, there will be nothing left for him to hold on to. Nothing to keep him waiting. Nothing to keep him hopeful.

It would force him to confront an unsightly truth; one he often ignores for the sake of his own guilt-ridden sanity.

Marcel is gone… and he’s never coming back.

What an awesome birthday this is turning out to be…

Porco’s still staring vacantly at the gift when someone unexpectedly enters his room, quietly but intrusive nonetheless.

Given the visitor’s sudden arrival, Porco is able to determine who has graced him with their presence without even bothering to look over his shoulder.

Reiner always knocks first.

Pieck tends to walk right on inside.

Her crutches aid in her entrance before she casually leans against the wall.

“Pokko,” Pieck says with a smile, “everyone’s waiting for you down in the mess hall.”

Of course they are. To throw him a ‘surprise party’ no doubt… except it’s merely an excuse for everyone else to indulge in a hedonistic carouse.

It’s not as if any of these foolish puppets of the Marleyan military genuinely care about him- much less about the fact that he feels like an entire half of him is gone.

What’s there to really celebrate anyway? A year closer to death? That the end of his tenure draws nearer with every passing year?

If the reason for celebration was an unapologetic ‘fuck you’ to the Marleyan government, he’d at least consider showing up. That alone would be worth putting up with all the belligerently drunk assholes and reckless commotion.

Some birthday wishes cannot come true, unfortunately.

Porco scowls, offering the only response his disenchantment will permit.

“Don’t care,” he huffs, emotionally drained.

Pieck tilts her head, quizzical. Then, with a nonchalant shrug, she decides she doesn’t really care all that much either.

She’d rather take this opportunity to lie down and rest. The others down in the mess hall will just have to wait. Knowing him as well as she does, however, she figures the festivities might be better off commencing without their guest of honor.

Porco’s not too keen on social gatherings anyway.

As a docile sigh eases from her mouth, she saunters over to his small framed cot and slumps back into the mattress. She doesn’t make herself too comfortable, wary of the despondent aura Porco emulates so heavily it’s like a thick cloud.

When she veers her sight in his direction, she’s able to pinpoint the cause of his dejected state instantly.

She blinks a few times in acquiescence, calm and unflinching.

Pieck remains fixated on the gift for a moment before speaking. “Still haven’t opened it yet?” she says more than asks. “After all this time…”

Porco doesn’t respond at first. He lets out a deep breath and runs a free hand through his hair, finding it difficult to articulate an answer when he’s utterly wrought with restrained emotion.

It’s only after Pieck sits herself up, looking at him with concern etched on her face, that he finally brings himself into the conversation- albeit, somewhat detached.

“I keep wondering when I’ll finally see him again,” he tells her quietly. Correction. “See his memories, I mean.”

To further his exasperation, he’s only seen the memories of the predecessor Ymir; the poor girl who couldn’t live up to such a grand title.

None of which provide any closure.

Pieck holds the upright position in which she sits at a persistent angle, lending her ear as Porco continues to vent the outpouring of zealous thoughts.

“He would’ve wanted me to inherit his titan power.” He’s repeated these words over and over again in the past, although this time he takes on a strangely assertive tone. “I know that’s what he would’ve wanted.”

The blatant reiteration is hardly convincing.

But he has to put his faith in something.

He won’t let his brother’s sacrifice go to waste. It’s one of the few things that keeps him going, even when the future seems so bleak… as it always does…

Pieck is quick to obstruct his dismal reverie, regaining his attention in rendering her own perspective.

“I think Marcel would want you to open your gift,” she advises gently. “It wouldn’t be right to leave it like that.” Defeats the purpose.

Porco leans back into his chair, arms folded across his chest. “I’m content with not knowing,” he muses somberly. “I guess… a part of me prefers to keep it that way.”

But another part of him is dying to leave the wrapping paper in shreds and pry the box open with the unrelenting force of his hands, exposing the long awaited mystery inside.

He doesn’t.

I can’t do it… Not without him here.

Pieck detects subtle traces of the feverish desire he’s desperately trying to quell internally, seeing right past his hardened guise for what it is.

Smoke and mirrors.

Observing his tormented condition with delicacy, Pieck can only come to one conclusion.

Porco is struggling to come to terms with Marcel’s fate- but maybe, by following through with this seemingly simple act, he may finally be able to take the first step in healing himself.

It’s not what he wants to hear, but Pieck is determined to get through to him.

She’s the only one who can.

“Pokko,” she begins, hoisting her legs over the edge of the bed, “we can’t bring back the people we’ve lost…” She pauses for a beat, daintily meeting his gaze before continuing. “But they live on in the memories we carry with us.”

Porco perks his head up, listening closely as he expects more.

She doesn’t keep him in suspense for too long, sustaining an empathetic approach to addressing the matter.

“So long as you hold those memories close, Marcel will always be with you.”

Porco desperately wants to believe that.

He wants to believe that Marcel’s presence shadows every walk to their childhood home, follows every hollow trajectory throughout the barracks, and guides him through every campaign during these perilous times of war; as though he’s watching over him from the hereafter.

Except most of these beliefs, about the afterlife and how ‘Marcel is in a better place’, are bullshit.

Porco can’t buy into any of that spiritual nonsense. It’s merely a farce religious folk made up to comfort themselves and cope with the harsh reality of suffering and mortality.

His parents, disheartened and aloof as they are, occasionally resort to these outlets in an effort to console him, but he simply refuses to allow himself to fall for such a travesty.

“He would’ve wanted me to inherit his titan power… I know that’s what he would’ve wanted.”

Damn it all.

Marcel doesn’t want anything.

Marcel is dead.

And holding off from opening a dated birthday present won’t change a damn thing. Holding on to the past will only hold him back in return.

The sun still rises. The sun still sets.

Porco’s fully aware.

He still resents it.

“But they live on… in the memories we carry with us…”

In a moment far too impeccable for his own understanding, Pieck’s point from before suddenly reemerges, replacing the despair that circulates in his room with supportive insight.

He will always have fond memories to look back on. They’re no substitute for his brother by any means, but they’re real- undiluted and everlasting.

Accepting this newfound realization is a final goodbye. And a new start.

He owes Marcel that much.

“Memories or no memories, my brother’s been gone for a long time.” Porco trails off, but he persists. “He’s gone… and he’s never coming back.”

It’s the first time he’s said that out loud.

It feels like a weight has crushed him, yet like a weight has been lifted all the same. Everything’s a bit easier to differentiate; to comprehend in a whole new light.

And he’s capable of accomplishing this feat because of her.

Having Pieck here with him is the single ray of hope among his clouded ordeal.

Then again, she always has been.

She always will be.

He can’t lose her, too. Not after everything he’s been through. After everything they’ve been through together. He won’t compromise on that. She means too damn much to him.

Except... they’re the same; cursed. Her tenure will end much sooner than his. He’ll make the most of it, he reasons in earnest... with what little time they have left together.

And then all he’ll have when she’s gone will be mere memories.

It’s an anomaly he does not question, mainly because he already knows the answer.

The reflection on such a pivotal moment comes to an abrupt end when Pieck rises to her feet, pulling her arms above her head into a brief stretch. Porco can only watch her with a strained and pensive sadness, mulling over all the things he wishes he could tell her but can’t because of their circumstances.

Being alone together in his dimly lit room incites a plethora of frayed emotions. The tension is further heightened as she ambles closer to him, her intentions rather obvious. His eyes follow her movements with muted fascination, anticipating her approach with each step she puts forth.  

With the distance closed, Pieck leans down and encircles her arms around him, tightening her grip as he clings to her in return. She doesn’t say anything, only rests her head on his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. They fasten themselves like this for a while, accompanied by nothing more than their bated breaths and aimless pondering.

Where they go from here is all up to Porco, Pieck presumes.

She contemplates whether or not there’s more she can do; more she can offer.

Over the years, she’s acknowledged that the intermittent withdrawal from his usually stoic demeanor seems to be reserved exclusively for her. It’s not something she takes for granted, but she doesn’t want to impose either. To respect that, she meekly pulls away and sets her sights on the door, reasoning with herself it would be best to give him privacy.

But she’s stopped.

“Pieck…”

Porco’s never looked so vulnerable… so sad.

“I want you to stay…”

He swallows down the immensely painful lump in his throat, nearly constricting his own words.

He’s hurting. Aching.

“Just a little while longer.”

Pieck gives him a faint smile, nodding at his request.  

It’s rare to see him like this. It tugs on her heart strings.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” she whispers, intent on fulfilling that promise to the letter.

As she draws nearer, she sees what he’s about to do.

Realizes what he’s about to do.

She blinks a few times, preparing herself.

It’s quiet again. Unrelentingly silent.

Porco reaches for the gift box, hands trembling.

And he opens it.

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #49

I’m so freaking behind on my comments and recs that it’s kind of ridiculous. If you wrote a gen fic recently and it’s usually up my alley and I haven’t commented yet, it’s probably in one of my open tabs, mocking me. I will catch up eventually. I was distracted this weekend playing RPG for twelve hours on Saturday and then watching Stranger Things 2 on Sunday, so that cut into my fandom time, but really I have no excuse.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Forming Bonds by Eastofthemoon Words: 34,054 Author’s Summary: When Keith is told by his father he is going work along side with a young Altean named Shiro in order to protect Princess Allura he is less than thrilled. However, over time, Keith finds himself becoming more and more protective of his new friends, especially with the threat of Zarkon looming over their heads. My Comments: I love it when fics treat the development and strengthening of platonic relationships with the care and finesse that you usually only see with romantic relationships. This is a great AU in which Keith, Shiro, and Allura have to both want to form bonds with each other and work on making their relationship develop, and it’s very satisfying to read.

Invisible Bonds by Cecilia_Dreamurr for MuseofWriting Words: 9,835 Author’s Summary: Alone and forgotten, trying to make the pain stop. Yet how could he when he couldn’t even touch something, let alone try anything.He was still there right? Right? Inspired by MuseofWriting’s In the Darkness between the Stars My Comments: A spell makes Lance insubstantial and unremembered by the rest of the crew. Painful and angsty despite the cracky premise. Great comfort at the end.

Digging a Black Hole by Qpenguin98 Words: 4,049 Author’s Summary: Were he given the choice to die or be useless, he would gladly take the first. My Comments: Great exploration of Keith’s mindset before, during, and after that decision he made in the finale of Season 4.

Allura’s Never Seen Star Wars by Awseomness Words: 1,853 Author’s Summary: Pidge comes to the realization that she has an opportunity no Earthling has ever had: an opportunity to observe the impact of the storytelling of Star Wars on a person whose cultural background is not inescapably infused with Star Wars references. Someone who does not know Darth Vader is Luke’s father. Someone who does not know Leia is Luke’s sister. Someone without the cultural context necessary to recognize the admittedly poor dialogue of the prequel trilogy. Someone like Princess Allura. My Comments: Adorable. I love Pidge and Allura bonding, and the fact that it’s through Star Wars just makes it better.

Late Breakfast by GRexCarolinii Words: 1,586 Author’s Summary: “Be that as it may, you and Matt have a lot in common,”“Like what?” “Well…” Hunk paused for a long moment, choosing his words carefully, “you are both… excellent brothers,” he said with a decisive nod. — In which Lance gets jealous My Comments: Super cute. I would love this development for Matt and Lance.

Tick Tick Jump by Spazzcat Words: 2,484 Author’s Summary: Lotor does not shoot out Haggar’s weapon. Everything ends in fire, and only Matt and Coran are left to pick up the pieces. But Matt is a Holt, and Holts will go to the ends of the universe and beyond in order to save their loved ones. My Comments: Great concept, very well executed. Matt’s determination to save everyone in the face of continuous loss was amazing. He deserves his happy ending.

No Tomb Left Empty by ImpendingExodus Words: 1,646 Author’s Summary: “I dreamed you were dead.” Looking straight ahead, out at the darkness of the room, Pidge continued, “I dreamed I was back at the graveyard planet, bringing flowers to put on your tombstone. That place is gonna stick with me for a while, I think.” “Katie.” Pidge looked up again, at where Matt’s face had gone pale in the cold blue light. He was shaking his head slightly as his face crumpled and tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Katie.” My Comments: Ouch, so painful. They did need to talk about this though.

War isn’t Pretty by SteamPowered514 Words: 2,340 Author’s Summary: A lot of injuries happened in space, most of them small little nicks and bumps. Little easy things to cover up and kiss better, the simple wear and tear of life around them and something that everyone on board was used to. A stubbed toe here, a jammed finger there. A paper cut, a scab, a scratch, a bruise, bumps, lumps, and scrapes. Lance hits his forearm on a hot metal pipe when fixing the castle with Coran, Shiro accidentally closes the oven door on his hand, Keith cuts himself when handling his own sword, Pidge trips down the stairs, Hunk catches his finger in a science experiment. The ship goes on. The humans on it learning that Alteans couldn’t get paper cuts, and had no funny bone in their elbows, couldn’t get brain-freezes, but one solid hit to a point on their hip and both legs would collapse underneath them, if you tugged on their ears it was extremely ticklish, their fingers could not jam they’d just break. Injuries in a war were much more severe, a lot more damaging. My Comments: Realistic and painful look at the kinds of severe injuries that the paladins could end up taking in the course of war. Made me feel a lot.

old familiar places by astrolesbian Words: 6,191 Author’s Summary: five birthdays hunk had at home, and one he had in space (not necessarily in that order) My Comments: Hance. This is such a sweet fic. Hunk deserves so much love.

home isn’t a place by ashinan Words: 2,493 Author’s Summary: Loneliness isn’t something new to Keith. But the pain of missing his team, his family, is soothed by their reassurance. My Comments: All of the care package items and gifts the team sends to Keith are perfect and thoughtful and sweet. A lovely birthday fic for a boy who deserves all the love.

Just the Same by DarkScales Words: 2,912 Author’s Summary: Keith’s only half Galra. He never thought his other half was all that important, given that his mother described his father’s planet as “a backwater hunk of rock literally named Planet Dirt,” until he finds out that his fellow paladins are human. Keith isn’t quite sure what to do with that. My Comments: Golly, this is adorable. I love how eager everyone is to share with Keith once they realize what his other half is. What a cute little AU.

Sacrifices by Forthediehards Words: 1,274 Author’s Summary: Matt confronts Keith after the difficult decision he made at the end of S4E6. Sometimes a little validation is all you need. My Comments: Another perspective on that decision, and quite a good one. I’m grateful for Matt here being so supportive and understanding.

Aftermath by GriffinRose Words: 1,478 Author’s Summary: SEASON 4 SPOILERS “Keith, man, talk to me,” Lance said. “What’s happening?” “I…” Keith started. He was still struggling to breathe, still struggling to wrap his mind over what almost happened, over the fact that he had to tell them what almost happened. He didn’t want to tell Lance, but Lance was here and Keith was going to lose it in a minute and at least Lance could go get Shiro or Kolivan or something. “I was going to…” “Yeah?” All at once, just like a bandaid. He could do this. “I was going to die.” My Comments: We’re probably not gonna get any sort of emotional resolution in canon for this horrible choice Keith made, so I’m very grateful for fandom giving Keith lots of hugs and comfort and heartfelt discussions in fic and art. This is a good one.

The Cost of a Cause by stayingwhelmed Words: 2,710 Author’s Summary: Matt shook his head. “Look at us.” Pidge turned to him, melancholy morphing into confusion at the grin spreading across his face. “Two of the biggest nerds from Earth, defending the universe.” Pidge returned his smile, and let out a soft giggle. Matt’s heart felt full enough to burst. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed his little sister’s laugh. (Pidge and Matt’s reunion and other unseen moments, told from Matt’s POV) My Comments: This so cute, you guys. So cute. I love these sweet science siblings. They love each other so much.

One Day for the Breaking, One More to Heal by pinstripedJackalope Words: 6,301 Author’s Summary: Keith did something drastic when he was trying to save Voltron in that last battle. He didn’t quite go through with it, though. A week later, his mind catches up to just what happened. My Comments: Holy wow, what a great aftermath fic. Everything just kind of sneaks up on Keith after the fact, which is how it works sometimes. I’m very, very glad Matt was there for him. And everyone else, too. This was immensely satisfying to read.

Brain Freeze by CondensationOnGlass Words: 2,027 Author’s Summary: Tumblr prompt fic! “taylor-tut said: YASS prompt time! How about some feverish Lance who has ridiculous chills and is complaining all through debriefing, irritating everyone else. As soon as debriefing is over, Pidge goes back to her room. Lance knocks on her door shivering and delirious outside her room, hoping that she might have a heated blanket. ” What the prompt says, the title- well I don’t know why either. My Comments: Holy frick, what a good sickfic. (Hey, that rhymes.) It just hits the spot, so good, gah, I love it. I just wish it was longer. Can never get enough Lance-centric sickfic. Not when you’re me.

proximity by bobtheacorn Words: 1,591 Author’s Summary: “Do you want to talk about your bad dream?” Pidge fires back with, “You want to talk about yours?” and Shiro has to relent. “…Fair enough.” //Shiro can’t sleep. Pidge is two steps ahead of him. My Comments: So sweet and achey.

Let the Rain (Come Down) by a_fearsome_thing Words: 2,541 Author’s Summary: In the midst of a thunderstorm, Lance and Shiro’s clone forge some new ground. It’s not what Lance expected. aka Lance makes a new friend and the clone gets a name My Comments: This is so sweet and achy and unexpectedly beautiful. I love the concept of Lance being the first to reach out to “Kuron” and make a connection on a human level, and this is a great example.

colors don’t fade by buttered_onions for yet_intrepid Words: 2,625 Author’s Summary: Commander Holt comes back, and Shiro doesn’t. Keith can get through this, too. A remix of Engine Won’t Turn, by yet_intrepid. My Comments: I’ve recced the fic this is based on because it’s amazing, and this is fantastic too. I wanted it to be longer, even though I’d already read the resolution from a different perspective. Keith’s loss is heartbreaking, and all the differences from canon are fascinating. I truly do love major canon-divergence AUs that just take a huge aspect of canon and flip it on its head.

The WMD by A_Zap Words: 3,081 Author’s Summary: Captured on a planet, the Paladins seem to have no way to escape. Luckily, Hunk decides to have Lance unleash their deadliest weapon. Keith doesn’t really know how to handle it. My Comments: So adorable and hilarious, omg. I believe it, too. Ambiguous Klance, but everyone is kind of attracted to Lance in this, so it barely counts.

Dishonest Mistake by ImpendingExodus Words: 2,346 Author’s Summary: Shiro’s got some walls up. When Pidge comes across a recording meant to be viewed in the event of his death, she has to confront her own feelings about the matter. My Comments: This was rough, but I loved that they were able to talk about it and come to an understanding.

The Voltron Aftershow by squirenonny for kakunamatatoes Words: 3,879 Author’s Summary: “This is the sort of work Voltron does?” Kolivan asked, cocking his head to the side. Keith hunched his shoulders, second-hand embarrassment making him want to curl up in a ball on the floor as his friends and teammates stuck cardboard boxes on their heads and… “formed” “Voltron.” “I swear we never did this when I was a paladin.” OR Keith gets to see the Voltron Show and has a little talk with the other paladins. My Comments: This is SO adorable. I love Keith getting to see his family and getting all kinds of love and having fun for this short interlude. Absolutely perfect missing scene from an episode that I enjoyed more in theory than in actuality.

A Little Unsteady by yet_intrepid Words: 2,759 Author’s Summary: When Shiro gets sick, Matt starts avoiding him. Not that it works that well. After all, their shared cell isn’t very big. Shiro tries his best to keep to his own corner, though, coughing into his elbow to prevent the germs from spreading. My Comments: This is hurt with not a lot of comfort, and it aches pretty bad, but it’s so well-written. Every time I see this author I know it’s gonna hurt and I still read it because it’s always good.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

Shadows of Stars (43517 words) Taking One For The Team (34003 words) Why it sucks to be a snake in space(38090 words) As Color Fades Away (190851 words) I'm not the Lance You think I am (74346 words) The Ones Who Were Left Behind (65972 words)

[winterfellchild]

WHY JONSA IS SO SPECIAL

Since I joined today (but I’m not so good with this yet) I’ll share my opinion why I think Jonsa is the best thing that ever happened in the show so far to Jon Snow (also to Sansa Stark but really this is about the KiTN)

First of all I read a lot of posts and saw a lot of gifs before joining and I want to thank this fandom for the amazing creativite you all shared so far.

So here are my personal 3 reasons why whatever will happen next season and whatever the ending will be after season 8 I think that this are important moments that made Jonsa the best ship in this show ( hopeful also books when we will have new books)... I’m sure what I’m going to write was already written but I’ll add my 2 cents anyway.

On the basis that I want Jonsa to be together in the end but shipping someone in Westeros it’s a little like asking for troubles I'll keep my fingers crossed for the future, but meanwhile what already happened made Jonsa the best pairing because nothing compares to:

THE FIRST STARK REUNION 

I can't wait for Arya and Bran to be back in Winterfell and it will be a heartfelt moment for sure but really the Stark rebirth will always be linked to the hug at Castle Black, to Jonsa. The music, the gaze full of wonder and almost unbelievable miracle on Jon's face, Sansa throwing herself in Jon arms, how they hold to one another with all their strength... nothing can beat that moment.

It's not only my shipping heart that is talking here ( even if it's so obviously one of the best moment they shared together since it happened when both of them were broken like no other time in their life, his death and her being raped), but it's my feelings as someone that love this show and books.

The Starks are undoubtedly the more loved family and the one family that suffered the most and lost more than any other family along the way. While other Houses also had difficulties and lost a lot no other house was destroyed like the Starks. And since the Red Wedding (even since Ned’s death for the ones alive now) the remining members of the family were scattered around the world and all alone.

So you see Sansa and Jon reunion is a turning point, the beginning of "the wolf will come again" era. Like I said nothing can be more epic than that because of the importance of the Stark family in the story ( yes, they are important even if I read some funny comments that said otherwise... just 4 words about this “A Time for Wolves” was the original title of the last book, changed because it highlights the Starks importance for the ending too much).

Not even meeting a stranger with 3 nuclear weapons can compare to that. Of course that will also be an important meeting but it will never have so many feelings like the hug in Castle Black, the feelings of finally being with a family member, a loved one and the feeling of HOME.

THE SENSE OF BELONGING

All his life Jon Snow was the bastard of Winterfell.

We can count how many times someone (and even himself) called him bastard and I'm sure it's too many times. It's a truth that was part of his soul since he understand what a bastard was but also his open wound.

From the start no one tried to heal this wound, even if in the show Ned said "you have my blood" that doesn't change the fact that he also said " you don't have my name".

Now we have this honourable and strong man but deep down he is still the young boy who wanted to be a true Stark like his siblings. Especially in the books it's clear how much he always hoped to be a Stark, even when he was far away from home he dreamed to go back and rebuilt Winterfell like Robb will do, he even felt a little bad for this, because only being a Stark of Winterfell can give him what his heart desired all his life, the feeling of belonging in his family.

Now before his death he could only dream because after all he is a brother of the NW for life and too honorable to break his words ( at least show Jon didn’t decide to go back) and even if he wasn't a brother of the NW nothing can really made him a true Stark among his family ( half dead and half lost around the world) so even when Stannis offered to give him the Stark name that was small consolation and very different from what he really wanted. But something unexpected happened: Sansa acknowledged him as a Stark. Even Ned failed him in this matter ( saddest quote ever “all my life I wanted to be Jon Stark”), but the last expected person from his family that never forgot who he was in the past gave him what no one ever did... his rightful place among the Starks.

Not only Sansa said to him that he is a Stark for her in their not-romantic-at-all-and-very-platonic private moment, but also her decision to take back Winterfell gave him the opportunity to be publicly acknowledged as a true member of House Stark by the North Houses and now he is the most important person in the North, the King in The North like all the Starks that lived so long ago and are now in the crypt of Winterfell, a place he always feared and where he always thought he didn’t belong.

Really the KiTN moment is amazing but the moment he shared with Sansa is so emotional that I think only people without hearts can ignore it, David Benioff used the best words ever to describe it: a moment of tenderness like no other in the show.

(Going a little out of topic this is the main reason why I think the spoilers from season 7 are the worst fanfiction ever written and I can't imagine Jon Snow will ever consider giving a shot to be with the Dragon Queen and rule with her on the Iron Throne forsaking the North, Winterfell, the Stark and most of all his home after he finally has a home. He will have a hard time to embrace his Targaryen heritage for sure, but I don't think he will jump on the madness train with his tyrannical aunt so easily (tyrannical is not my word, it's in the script of ep 6x09 here )

BROODING JON SNOW SMILE

Smiling is the best way to face every problem, to crush every fear, to hide every pain. – Unknown author

The first of many genuine smiles since I don't know... it seems since forever?

I know he had his moments with Ygritte but he never let his mask down with her, after all he was a man with a mission and never forgot who he was so even when together there was always a wall between them ( and frankly she was a little too bossy for me to board that ship... but this is just my personal opinion, free to disagree). His only genuine smiles since he joined the NW were with Sam and he is gone for now, but here comes Sansa: there is no wall, he genuinely smiled for the first time in a long time and after the biggest event that would have left even the bravest man shattered, he died and just came back to life.

Wars will come, deaths will come but in his darkest moment he was a happy person in that room because of Sansa. It's so meaningful that it happen just in the perfect moment, when he really lost his way and was ready to meander the world with no clear purpose or direction. She gave him a purporse to be alive again.

P.S. gifs and photos are not mine, I have them saved on my computer but I have no idea who to credit... just tell me if I have to and I’ll do it :)

[nichtaufgewacht]

In a burning room, chapter 2.

They had arrived at the military base, that was about fifty kilometers away from the Syrian city of Damascus. It was one of the truce days that had been agreed on, so that the people would have enough peace to reorganize, and the various humanitarian missions would have had a chance to do what they could. It was a hot and windy day. Joakim was walking behind his friend, and military superior, Sergeant Pär Sundström. To him, he was just his long time friend, Pär.

Joakim had a pair of sunglasses on, very useful to shield his eyes from the dust rising from the ground. The blue helmet with the UN logo on it, the thick uniform of the Swedish army sticking to his body. All of them were armed, for praxis. They were a small group, walking behind the commander in chief of the camp. They went inside the biggest container of the camp, that served as a hall and as a reunion place for every military man camp. Once inside, Joakim took off his helmet, with a sigh. Still standing, he went to sit next to Pär, in the first row of chairs, in front of a tall, American man.

“You alright?” Pär got closer to Joakim’s ear. He had very deep blue eyes, as clear as his soul. Long hair, for the occasion pulled up in a low tail behind his head. He was the closest thing Joakim had to a brother, being the only son of a divorced mother.

“All good.” Joakim lifted up his thumb at him, after he had placed the AK 5 - verificare arma in dotazione ad esercito svedese ed Onu - next to his chair. The weapon stood there, menacing, it’s cane leaning onto Joakim’s right leg. “A bit nauseated by the flight, but I got a tough stomach.” Pär jokingly patted Joakim’s thigh. In a moment, the entire room was quiet. The tall American man friendly smiled at them.

“Colonel Rogers, head of UN operations here at Camp Damascus.” he introduced himself. He was in his forties, with strong facial features and a well groomed red beard framing his face. “I’d like to welcome back Sergeant Sündström, and an heartfelt welcome to those who are here for the first time. I see a few new faces, and that really gives me joy.” Rogers looked at Joakim, who sustained his gaze. “Within the month you’ll be staying with us, we honestly hope that we’ll manage to accomplish a lot.” Rogers continued speaking. He had the marines uniform, a metal tag hanging from his neck.

“I’ll keep this short and sweet. While you’ll be here, me and Sergeant Sündström will be your guide, teacher and commander. You’ll be assigned to various tasks, and you’ll join other members of the coalization.” Joakim listened, taking off his sunglasses. He felt dust in each of his pores. “There’s so much to do here, like bringing resources such as medicins and basic life supplies to the UN refugees camps in this areas. Looking after young children and new borns, for those of you who are familiar with it, so that mothers and fathers can work on the documents they need to ask for political asylum.” The wind outside the container kept on raging.

“The most difficult task, to which you’ll get assigned if you specifically ask for it, is the reason why this truce is so important. Small groups of us leave the camp everyday to visit the destroyed parts of Damascus, and  even go up to Aleppo, to seek for alive citizens that might still be hiding in the buildings.” Joakim glanced at Pär: that was what he had signed up for. The aim to which he hoped to dedicate himself to. “Seeking for dead citizens, will be a priority as well. So that we can take them back to the camp, and help their families to find them. It won’t be easy, remember this is a peace mission in a country that is living a civil war. And war is war, no matter how big or small it may be.”

Every soldier in the room lent their ears to the Colonel’s words. He had spoken as frankly as he could have done, to make things very clear. Being a very honest person himself, Joakim instantly felt a connection to the man. Still, an unpleasant shiver crossed his back, sweaty under the Swedish Army M90 desert uniform that was sticking to his skin. "Tonight you’ll be free to get to know the camp. Rest well, and tomorrow morning you’ll be assigned to the different teams. Hope I have been clear enough.” The colonel looked at all their faces. “If the sergeant has something to say?” Pär immediately stood up. There was a patch saying ‘fänrik’, on his arm. And the UN and Swedish Armed Forces patches were right under it. He shook hands with the colonel, that was taller than him of about fifteen centimeters. Pär didn’t seem to mind that at all.

“You already know everything you need to know.” Pär said, serious. “Listen, be careful, and when it’s possible try to think that you’re here because our country has decided to contribute to world peace.” Joakim watched his friend being the military officer he had chosen to become. That wasn’t like being in the security battalion; no stations or crowded streets, no part time jobs. For that month, things would have been definitely real. “Stockholm and Dalarna will be a far thought. When you’ll come back, you’ll be richer in the mind and in the heart. And as the Belgians say…” he opened his arms at his men, and waited for their answer.

“Resiste et mords!” the eight men under his command replied, in a single choir. Colonel Rogers felt like applauding, slightly amused. Joakim, with a smile, shook his head at his friend and commander.

“Resist and bite.” Pär explained to Rogers. “I am kind of an history nerd, colonel.” Rogers chuckled, and nodded.

“Dismiss, everyone.” The colonel said, after Pär had finished speaking.

A couple of hours later, after eating together with the others, Joakim was on his bed. He had taken off his combat boots, and was laying with a foot on the other, tapping on his smartphone. The bed wasn’t that bad at all, and the long room in which all of the members of his division would have lived had enough air for everybody. There was a small window between Joakim’s bed and the one next to is; it was open, and some air was desperately trying to get inside.

Pär had entered the room, and everyone had saluted him. He quickly dismissed them with a lazy hand gesture, and went sitting on the bed near the door, the one next to Joakim’s. The sergeant untied his hair, that for the best part of the day had been put up in a pony tail. He scratched the back of his head, satisfied; then, he sat down with a loud sigh.

“Long day?” Joakim asked to his friend. Pär nodded, his lips under the beard curling in a smile. “Long day.” he replied. Then, he adjusted himself to sit on the bed, to remove his boots. “Have you called her already?” Joakim felt surprised at the perfect timing. He had been caught in the exact moment in which he was about to push the “call” button.

“Right on time.” Joakim smiled, showing the phone to Pär. Pär chuckled, taking off his tags and his shirt, remaining only with a white tank. He wasn’t as big as Joakim, but his body was still defined.

“I still can’t believe how you went up to a girl just like that.” Pär said. “You’ve changed, after all.”

“Indeed.” Joakim took a deep breath. His long fingers slid down the contacts, until he found her. Claire. He glanced at Pär one last time, seeing how he let down his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, humming a song. Then, Joakim tapped on the small icon of a videocamera. He closed his eyes as he heard the phone ring.

 Claire was standing in front of the kitchen table, a knife in her hand as she chopped down carrots and other vegetables to make a salad. She had just arrived home after a tiring day of studying and researching at the University, and she just wanted to sit down to have a homemade meal.

On the other side of the open space kitchen, sitting on the couch, was her older brother, Chris. He was a medium height young man, with long brown hair that tended to be curly to its ends. He had brown eyes, just like Claire, and he had a dark beard framing his round face. His hands moved on the guitar frets of the classic Fender he was playing on, improvising.

The sound of him playing was filling the room. It wasn’t loud as usual; this time he had chosen to stay clean, almost as if he wanted to create an atmosphere.

“How come you’re playing on a Fender? You hate them.” Claire had noticed how her brother wasn’t using his more modern, habitual guitar. Chris’ fingers kept playing, as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t even know.” he replied. “Guess I just want to give this a chance. It’s not that bad, but it’s not my cup of tea.” Claire chuckled, taking a bamboo bowl from above the kitchen counter to place the salad in. Then, Chris stopped playing. He stood up, and walked barefoot towards Claire, holding something in his hand. Her phone, and it was ringing. The girl noticed, and furrowed her brows at him, looking up at this face.

“How did you hear it?” she asked, taking the smartphone in her small hand. Chris pointed to his ears.

“I’m a superhero. Never forget that.” he said, as he grabbed a couple of plates to lay the table.

Claire looked at her phone. A number she didn’t know, that was video calling her. She turned pale, and then her cheeks turned red. Holding her breath for a second, she accepted the call. She wouldn’t believe her eyes as Joakim’s face appeared on the screen. He was waving at her, with a joyful smile. Then, he burst out in a laugh, visibly amused.

“I’m glad that my face is so ridiculous to you.” Claire replied, brushing a hand through her hair. She couldn’t help but smile back at him. His laugh was contagious.

“It’s just…you should look at you. Your expression is priceless.” he said, speaking English in his familiar accent.

“Well, I see that you’re enjoying the taste of victory.” she said, one of her brows lifting up. In the meantime, Chris glanced at that scene. It hadn’t been a while since he had seen her sister be so shy with someone. Silently, he went on preparing dinner from where Claire had left it, pushing a tuft of hair behind his ear.

“Victory.” Joakim repeated, mocking her British accent. “I love how you say it. But yes, I am enjoying it very much.” Joakim tried to grasp every glance of her that he could. How she licked her lips from time to time, how her index finger played with one of her earrings.

“Then, how long until our first date, private Joakim?” Claire said, playfully. She took a look at his thick neck, at the curve of his deltoids covered by a white t-shirt.

“Thirty-two days.” he said, nodding. “Don’t hide it, I know you can’t wait.” Claire chuckled.

“Time will tell, I guess.” she said.

“I will call you every day.” Joakim said. Claire was surprised, and felt her cheeks blushing. “So that I can remind you how many days until that glorious evening.” he smirked, with a sweet expression on his features. He was taking courage in his hands once again, and felt like he could take on the world.

“You can, if you want to.” Claire agreed. She looked down at her feet for a moment, shyly. Joakim took the chance to eye her up, and to print her features in his mind. In the dimmed light of her kitchen, even through the screen, she seemed adorable to him.

“I think it’s time for me to go to sleep. I’ve had a full day.” Joakim said, definitely feeling sad about the call ending. “How was your day, by the way?” Claire looked at him again. She could see his eyes, again. They were green. Then they were hazel.

“Long.” she replied. “Thank you for asking, anyway.” Claire watched as Joakim slightly bowed his head.

“I’ll leave you to your civilian life then.” he said, after he had let out a yawn. “Have a good night, Claire.” Joakim smiled. Claire waved at him.

“Have a good night, private.” she replied, bringing her hand to her forehead to make the military salute. Joakim replied to it, making a serious face for a moment; then, he winked at her.

Claire closed the video call, tapping on her smartphone. She stared at it, for a second of trance. Then, she finally sat down at the table, where Chris was already eating, as he watched the news on the tv.

“Who was that?” he asked. He had tried to hold it in, but he was too curious.

“No one.” she replied. “Just a guy.” Chris nodded, understanding. He knew her too well, and was curious about it. Yet, he decided to let it go for the moment. He observed her features and noticed the content smile that had started to appear on her pink lips.