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cno-inbminor · 3 years

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iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings: DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him. It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,” he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #childe #tartaglia #childe angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #this fic maybe took two years off my life

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yaboylevi · 3 years

Text

Shingeki no Kyojin's Ending Interview (May 2021)

Translation commissioned by @goldsword07, DO NOT REPOST in full, always include credits and a link to this post if you use or share any parts of it.

Question: Congratulations on completing Shingeki no Kyojin’s serialization! How do you feel now that you have finished writing the final chapter?

Isayama: There’s still some work left to do when it comes to putting together the final manga volume*, so I don’t actually know how a “life without deadlines" feels like yet (laughs), but by publishing the final chapter, I feel like I can finally breathe again. However, there are still several things that need to be done.

(*Translator’s note: usually, putting together a volume includes: fixing drawing mistakes, sometimes even redrawing certain scenes if the author wasn’t satisfied with how they looked/their composition, fixing text (both wording or simply changing the Japanese characters used), drawing omake/extra pages, like the High School Caste fake previews, which usually take up 2 pages, and so on. So, of the 8 extra pages he mentions below, probably only 6 at max will be used to add new original story content.)

Q: What?! What else is there to be done?

Isayama: At first, the draft for the last page of the chapter was neatly divided into 5 panels, but I was feeling quite indecisive about it. At the time, that last page was a scene of 3 people running towards a tree on a hill. After having a meeting about that with Bakku-san and my other editors, I decided on a last-minute change, and I turned it into the one that is now published in Bessatsu Shonen Magazine. The limit for each printed chapter in Bessatsu Magazine was 51 pages, but since up to 8 extra pages can be added in manga volumes, I want to finish up everything that I couldn’t draw in the printed magazine and add it in the final manga volume.

Q: As for the serialization, which spanned 11 years and a half, have there been any changes about the way you think about mangas?

Isayama: Up until recently, I had drawn as if sexism wasn’t a thing, but when drawing the Marleyan military, which was comparatively more modern, if I had added, with no explanation whatsoever, female soldiers like I did for Paradis Island, it could’ve given the impression that Marley was quite a developed nation. It would’ve felt out of place. That’s why, as long as I was drawing a story set in an era of the past, I couldn’t draw female characters as part of the top brass of the military, because it would’ve meant acting as if there was no actual history of gender discrimination at the time.

It might be a story set in a fictitious world, but if you don’t connect it in some ways to the real world, it could end up becoming a story people cannot relate to.

Q: The unraveling of events that led to the final chapter has been quite shocking. Especially when it comes to Eren…

Isayama: I have been frenetically checking any and all reactions to that. There are as many honest opinions as there are people, and they’re all correct. With how I portrayed that part, it’s not so strange that it was interpreted as if Armin accepted the massacre. My portrayal was lacking. Armin didn’t approve of the despicable measures taken by Eren, but he ended up benefiting from the mass slaughter, regardless of his intentions. Armin, who couldn’t possibly understand Eren, faced their last farewell with a firm “Thank you for becoming a mass murderer for us”, essentially conveying how he himself was also an accomplice. He wanted to feel closer to Eren, even if just a little. I realized the final stage in particular had too difficult themes, and my portrayal was inadequate. I deeply regret that I wasn’t able to fully express them in the manga proper.

I’ve been drawing this manga for 11 years and a half, and when I completed the manuscript I truly believed that “everyone will be happy with this”. I was conceited. I apologize to those who have supported me until the end but have felt let down by the ending.

Q: During these 11 years and a half of serialization, have there been any memorable events?

Isayama: I’m happy that I could deepen the relationship with my assistants, as “manga friends”. When the serialization started, everyone was in their twenties, but now some of them are married and have even become parents, and we have become close family friends.

Q: Was the manga becoming an anime a memorable moment, too?

Isayama: The anime adaptation can certainly be considered another part of Shingeki no Kyojin. Lots of people got to know this story through watching the anime. Personally, it was refreshing for me too, as I could experience the story anew. In addition to that, the characters were taken out of my hands - in a good way - by the directors and voice actors, they began moving as independent “existences”. It was a first and interesting experience.

Q: Do you have a favorite scene?

Isayama: As far as drawings go, the scene I like the most is the one in chapter 104, “Victors”, when the Jaw Titan claws at the Attack Titan. Besides the fact that I feel like I can’t draw anything better than that, there also haven’t been that many action scenes with titans after chapter 104.

Q: Well then, what about your best chapter?

Isayama: One of them is chapter 71, “Bystander”. I feel like that chapter exceeded my abilities at the time. I like the way it doesn’t feel like “Shingeki no Kyojin”, as the spotlight was on the life of a single character who isn’t involved with the original story.

Q: Chapter 69, “Friends”, also depicts some characters’ personal life.

Isayama: I like that chapter, too! At the time of drawing its draft, I flattered myself with words such as “Uh? Aren’t I so mature?!”. Normally, I would draw the main story’s continuation, but in chapters 69 and 71’s case, it felt like I was drawing stories that were complete on their own.

Q: With the start of the Marley arc in chapter 91, “The other side of the ocean”, both titans and modern times’ weapons made an appearance in battle.

Isayama: That battle scene was the time I had the most fun while drawing mangas, I was in a state of total concentration and full energy.

Q: How has Shingeki no Kyojin been for you?

Isayama: It’s as if youth has come a bit late, a third of my life has been packed into this work. …Of course, there have been hard times, too, but it’s been a chapter of my life that normally you wouldn’t be able to experience and even now I struggle to think it was real. Although I’ve been spoiled by my readers, I had planned to draw all the while accepting even harsh opinions.

Q: Finally, a message to the readers, please!

Isayama: Through Shingeki no Kyojin, I could connect with an unfathomable number of people. I’ve been happy to share this time of my life with my readers, which is something that, if I had had a normal life, I would have never experienced.

Also, now that the serialization is over, I have been freed, so I want to stroll around a small city with a can of One Cup sake in one hand. That’s what I would call freedom.

#shingeki no kyojin #isayama hajime #armin arlert #eren yeager #snk official #snk translations #vivitranslates #snk spoilers

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cuuno-moved · 3 years

Text

Friends Forever

Or: How Sapnap met and lost his family.

@the-gay-is-back

The first time Sapnap saw Dream, he was 5.

He was sitting under one of the tables at his dad’s cafe with a coloring book, coloring in a little panda, humming to himself, when there was a kid crouching in front of him.

They froze, staring at each other, sizing each other up for a bit.

The kid had long blond hair, and freckles scattered across their face and arms. They wore a massive green t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, and a pair of flip flops. They looked a couple years older than Sapnap, but probably weighed half as much as he did.

They tilted their head, narrowing their eyes, but then Sapnap’s dad called for him, and they bolted, leaving him blinking in confusion.

They came back nearly every day after that, just to sit there and watch Sapnap draw. At one point, Sapnap asked his dad where he thought the kid lived, and he looked sad as he explained he probably didn’t have a home, he probably lived on the streets.

Sapnap frowned at that. He couldn’t imagine not having a home, not having a family.

The next time the kid came by and sat in the corner, Sapnap stood up and walked over to him, watching him tense up and eye the door.

“Hi,” He said, simply. “What’s your name?”

“...Dream.”

He smiled happily, introduced himself, and sat down across from him, peacefully going back to drawing.

A couple weeks later, Dream stopped showing up.

Sapnap was terrified that he’d gotten hurt, or worse, but after a week and a half of the corner being empty, suddenly, he was back.

He looked different from the second he burst through the door. His face was clean, and Sapnap could admire the freckles scattered across his cheekbones easier. His hair was still long, but now it was even, and brushed. When Sapnap hugged him, he smelled like rose shampoo.

“I got a dad,” He beamed. “I got a dad, and a brother! I have a family!”

He met his family the next day when he dragged them through the door with a smile and happily introduced them to Sapnap.

His dad was a short man with curly hair, half white half brown. She smiled sweetly at Sapnap, and gave him a warm hug that smelled like the ocean breeze. Dream’s new brother was made of gold, and tall, almost as tall as Sapnap’s dad, who had come out from the back to say hello.

When Sapnap was 7 and Dream was 9, Dream explained nonbinary to Sapnap, and said they used all pronouns, not just he.

Sapnap shrugged, said that was cool or whatever.

A week later, he nervously asked Dream if he could be a boy, if he felt like it.

Dream nodded, and Sapnap grinned, and that night, he told his dad, who hugged him and said he was proud of him.

For a while, it was just the two of them, until Dream met George.

George was smart, and funny, and snarky. He and Sapnap got along wonderfully.

One day, as they sat together, in the playground, watching their dads talk, George pointed out he was the oldest.

“That makes me the leader, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Sapnap scoffed. “I’m the biggest. I’m the leader.”

“No,” George bit back, crossing his skinny arms over his chest. “I’m the oldest, the smartest.”

“You’re not smart.”

“Oh come on, guys,” Dream chuckled, shaking her head. “Why do we need a leader?”

The other two looked at each other for a moment, before nodding. And just like that, Dream was the leader.

George had a little brother, a shapeshifter called Alex. Sapnap didn’t meet him for the first month or so of knowing George, he was always out with their dad when Sapnap came over.

Then, one day, when Sapnap was 9, Dream was 11 and George was 12, they sat on George’s bed, watching a bad horror movie on Dream’s laptop- or rather, George and Dream watched the movie as Sapnap hid his face in George’s shoulder.

There was a knock on the door, and George sighed. “Come in.”

Alex poked his head in. He was Sapnap’s age, with fluffy black hair with little golden feathers sticking out every here and there. His shiny dark eyes flickered over all of them, before he grinned brightly, revealing a missing tooth. “Dad says I have to hang out with you guys.”

George whined, and groaned, but Sapnap was more than happy to hang out with the smaller boy, he was funny and he fit in Sapnap’s lap perfectly.

He started hanging out with them more after that, trailing behind them on their trips to the gas station to grab sodas and laughing when Dream failed on skateboarding tricks.

At one point, Alex started calling himself Quackity, and Sapnap made a joke about it, but he just flipped him off and grinned. “You’re just jealous cause it’s such a cooler name than Sapnap.”

The four were impossible to pry apart.

And then, only three years later, the fifth arrived.

He was small, with fluffy brown hair, and pale skin. His eyes were green (years later, Sapnap would discover they actually weren’t, they were mostly blue, but there were chunks of green and brown, although early in the morning, when he was only half awake, they were a brilliant sapphire color with streaks of orange) and his hands were anxious, twisting in his plain white hoodie.

“Hi,” Dream said, simply, hopping off her swing easily, sending woodchips flying. “I’m Dream.”

The boy nodded back, but didn’t speak as they introduced themselves. After a moment, he pointed at the empty swing next to George.

He started following them around, always a few feet behind, always watching silently. He never spoke, and they never made him.

Until one day, when George paused, sending him a weird look and asked, calmly. “How do you spell your name, again? Is it a K or a C?”

He blinked.

“Okay, cool,” The older boy nodded, satisfied. “I don’t know many Karls with a K.”

Later, they asked George how he knew what his name was, and he just shrugged. Karl didn’t care about them finding out his name, apparently, it was never a secret, he just didn’t talk.

“Can you speak?” Quackity asked one night, after dinner, when they all sat in a circle in Sapnap’s livingroom.

Karl nodded.

“You just don’t want to?”

He nodded again.

“Why?” George asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

He shrugged.

“Is it cause you don’t like us?” Sapnap asked.

At that, his eyes went wide and he desperately shook his head.

“You just don’t like to talk,” Dream said. “Like… I don’t like coffee, you don’t like to talk.”

Karl nodded again, relieved.

“Makes sense,” Quackity nodded sagely. “I don’t like George.”

The first time Karl spoke, Dream’s dad was ordering lunch.

“What kind of sub do you guys want?” She asked, opening the app on her phone and patiently waiting for their orders.

Karl was last, per usual, but instead of reaching for his dry erase board, he just… opened his mouth.

“Can I have a meatball sub, please?”

She froze, staring at him. “Uh… sure, kid. You want cheese on that?”

He shook his head, and went back to the game he was playing on Sapnap’s old gameboy.

Karl was odd, they realized.

He didn’t like talking, unless he was completely comfortable and felt safe. He hummed creepy old songs that sounded like they were from a horror movie, and he liked to drink monster energies, even though, at 15 years old, he really should not have an addiction.

He also liked to steal people’s clothes, cut them up, and sew them together into a Frankenstein hoodie.

Sapnap would happily “forget” to take his hoodies back from Karl, and happily watch him jog up to them the next day with a new patch on his shoulder the same color as the missing jacket.

They all slept over at George’s house on the weekends. His dad would carry an old mattress down from the attic, and all five of them would cram together, with Karl’s around Sapnap’s waist and George’s face in Dream’s spine and Quackity’s feet in all of their faces. It was warm, and it was safe.

One night, Sapnap asked them if they were going to stick together forever.

“Yeah, of course,” Dream whispered. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Friends forever.” Quackity laughed.

“Yeah,” George hummed, already half asleep. “Forever…”

Karl just giggled, nudging Sapnap’s head with his own.

…

He shouldn’t have believed them.

Eight years shouldn’t have been enough time to ruin everything.

He was barely 19, still a kid in all honesty.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, stirring the rice. It was getting cold, he realised faintly. He should eat now, but…

They’d said they were coming over. They said they were going to be here.

Dream couldn’t make it, of course. They were still in prison. He didn’t expect them to show up. He didn’t want them to show up. He still remembered Tommy’s funeral.

George was probably asleep. That was alright, he needed it, he’d been staying up too late again recently, just watching the stars.

But the other two…

Quackity had left earlier that morning, pulling on his eyepatch and hat, tying his tie and nodding goodbye to Sapnap at the door. Around noon, he’d stumbled back, covered in blood, his eyes full of anger and mirth. Sapnap had tried to talk to him, but he’d just shoved past him, grabbed a pickaxe and vanished out the door again.

Karl had been gone for a couple days now. The last Sapnap had seen of him, he’d been sitting on the dining room floor, sobbing as he ripped the faded lime green fabric from his hoodie. Sapnap had left him, let him be alone, and then he was gone.

Sapnap wasn’t hungry.

He stood, grabbing a tub from the cabinet and started to dump the fried rice in.

The front door opened.

He hesitated. “Babe?”

There was silence, then tentative footsteps.

Karl stood there, his hair almost grey, eyes almost lifeless. His hoodie damp, and Sapnap frowned at the lack of shoes on his feet.

“Are you okay? What happened? Are you cold?”

Karl didn’t speak, just staring at him, and he sighed, turning away.

“You missed dinner. I can heat this back up for you, but it’s not going to be as good-”

A pair of arms wrapped around his chest and he jumped, until he felt a familiar face press between his shoulder blades.

“Karl?”

Nothing.

He turned, wrapping his arms around his husband and sighing. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

He wasn’t sure what he was saying, or why it made Karl start to shake, but it felt right, and he repeated it. “It’s ok. You’re ok. We’re going to be alright.”

Quackity came home that night from tearing down his old home to find his husbands curled up in bed without him, and he sighed.

They probably hadn’t even noticed he left.

He turned to leave, to go to the couch, but a pale hand caught onto his and he froze, staring down at Karl.

“Hey.”

No response, just wide eyes.

“... want me to join ya?”

A nod.

They weren’t friends forever. Dream had made sure of that when he betrayed Sapnap at the Battle of the Lake, when he ripped George’s crown from his head, when he called Quackity a terrorist, when he killed a kid. They weren’t the same as they’d been back and they never would be.

But as Sapnap cuddled his boys to his chest, burying his face in Quackity’s hair, he thought that this wasn’t so bad.

#toby writes shit #sapnap #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #karl jacobs #quackity #dream smp #karlnapity #feral boys #willow and karmen's au

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jaxsteamblog · 3 years

Text

I’ll Save You from the Pirates

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Katara made sure everything was zipped and buttoned before stepping out of the small control building. She was grateful for the early morning survey trip; being in the South Pole brought in a lot of things too close for comfort.

The village she had selected for the initial drilling was on the northern side of the mountains watched over her childhood. On an especially clear day in summer, it was possible to see the far distant peaks of the Air Nation archipelago.

Or else, that’s what she assumed those smudges on the horizon were.

Shaking her head, Katara forced a smile at the workers waiting for her at the dock. She assumed she had a touch of midnight sun sickness, since her body was used to the perpetual darkness of the northern winter at the moment. Even with the new simulated nighttime, Katara was not adjusting as quickly as she had hoped.

It made her head feel like a balloon despite her body feeling sluggish.

“Shall we?” Katara asked, looking from man to man. They were unfamiliar to her, but so were many of the people she met in the South Pole.

The only time she had ever left her village was the once. And she hadn’t properly returned from that trip.

A lifetime ago, Katara had stepped onto a different sort of rickety boat. This one was made of metal, required some sort of crew to operate, and was probably more likely to survive a squall in the open ocean.

But her head still rocked violently when she was fully onboard.

“Gum, Majesty?” One of the men offered. Katara smiled in a closed lipped, queasy sort of way. Taking the thin rectangle of foil, her fingertips felt numb while unwrapping it. The gum was a pale pink, like the meat of any arctic fish.

That image didn’t help her head.

Her jaw worked slowly, feeling the gum nearly disintegrate between her teeth. The flavor was odd, but there was enough mint to calm her a bit.

Sitting on a box of supplies, Katara looked over the edge as the ship pulled away from the dock. The Beifong representative had been complaining of pirates for weeks. Small, quick boats that harassed their supply ships. Usually the attacks were pointless; the expensive equipment had been installed months ago. But medical supplies, shelf stable food, and other minor sundries were beginning to add up on the list of pirated goods.

Fire Nation engineers weren’t bothered by the pirates. Many of them were former military and were not at all subtle over their wish to interact with sea bandits.

Not to be inferred as wanting to fight Water Tribals of course, your Highness.

They were a congenial sort, in their own way.

As they continued on, Katara rubbed her eyes. A migraine was building at her forehead and she called up the cold water to attempt to heal it.

The brain was tricky, and sometimes she had trouble healing herself as she often didn’t think it was bad enough to worry over. Pressure pounded, but the pain stayed as that cloudy prophecy of worse to come.

In her mouth, the gum quickly lost its flavor, so Katara spat out the wad into her palm. The pink was long gone, and the wrinkled gray lump looked foul.

“What even was that?” She muttered and turned around. The man who offered her the gum was standing next to her, a bag in his hands.

Thinking it was trash, Katara moved to shake out the used gum.

The bag went over her head.

When she came to, the sun was setting. This meant two things: that she had been unconscious for a very long time and that they were no longer in South Pole waters.

And noting that she was also in a straight jacket, bound to a tree, Katara figured she was in the Earth Kingdom.

The pirates, as she assumed them to be, were near enough by that Katara could see them at their small fire. The light faded before it got to her, and so she couldn’t make out faces or words.

Looking around, and trying to shift into a comfortable position, Katara knew she was in the woods and far from the ocean. The straight jacket kept her arms and hands from bending, and her legs were shackled tightly together.

Rohan had told her stories about how the late King Bumi could earthbend by wriggling his eyebrows, but Katara wasn’t that skilled. Yet.

Sighing, Katara looked back at the fire.

Historical pirates had been her people, but they were effectively wiped out during the war. Airbender Bumi had created his Sky Pirates, and now they had been replaced by Earth Kingdom citizens. A counterclockwise Avatar cycle.

Bound and still feeling sick, the night air was at least steadying her senses. But she really didn’t know what to do next.

And yet, she really didn’t feel the need to plan. The situation almost made her feel calm. It took the sudden figure behind her to tell her why.

“I’ll save you from the pirates.” A soft voice whispered into her ear.

Katara snorted, turning it into a sneeze in case she was overheard. She was, and one of the pirates got up to investigate.

“Oh no. A ruffian approaches. Whatever shall I do.” Katara said robotically.

The man frowned as he neared.

“Don’t think of calling for help.” He said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Katara replied and smiled broadly.

“You think something’s funny? I’d like to see you try your bending now.” He said.

“Neither of us needs bending to kick your ass.” The shadowed man said.

The pirate straightened just as the hilt of a sword smashed into the side of his head. The man collapsed as his assailant moved into the dusky light.

The blue oni mask sent electricity through Katara’s veins.

“Let me help you out.” Zuko said, crouching next to her and slicing through the straps.

“You might want to focus on them.” Katara said, wiggling out of the restraint.

Zuko stood and turned, separating his dual swords and rotating his wrists to loosen them.

“Be right back my love.” He said and darted forward.

Katara watched as closely as she could, shoulder off the straightjacket. Zuko moved quickly, as he always did, and many of the pirates were unable to even reach their guns. Those that did nearly lost a hand before Zuko knocked them prone.

To her surprise, there was an actual Earthbender among the group and Katara wondered if she should intervene. She was working on the shackles on her ankles when the cannonball of earth slammed Zuko into a tree. But the Blue Spirit leapt back onto his feet and kicked debris into the Bender’s face. By the time Katara snapped off the frozen metal, the Bender was face down on the ground.

Zuko paused to put out the small fires made when he kicked their cook fire before walking back to Katara. He held out his hand to help her up and she dusted off the back of her pants as he sheathed his unified sword.

“How did you get here so quickly?” She asked.

“Sokka helped.” He explained.

“But this?” Katara questioned, gesturing to his costume.

“I had plans.”

“Plans?” She stepped in close, running her fingers along the edge of his mask. “Did it involve a veil?”

“For you it involved only veils.” He answered, putting a warm hand on her lower back.

“KATARA!” A man’s voice bellowed and they jumped apart.

“My dad?” Katara choked out.

“It would make sense that others would be responding to this incident, yes.” Zuko said stoically, like he was also just realizing this.

“You need to go.” She hissed, shoving at Zuko’s side.

“Where?” He whispered back. “I don’t really know where I am!”

“KATARA!” Hakoda called again, much closer now.

“They can’t see you! You’re a wanted man!” Katara continued to shove, but Zuko didn’t move.

“My boat is that way!” He said, pointing past her to where Hakoda’s voice had come.

“KATARA!” Hakoda sounded desperate, and it actually raked at Katara.

“You have to get-” She stopped as she heard multiple people run into the clearing.

“GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!” Hakoda yelled. Katara turned, spreading her arms wide.

“He saved me dad!” She yelled back.

Hakoda halted and looked around. Seeing the very recent carnage, Hakoda made quick gestures. The others with him ran forward, securing the unconscious pirates.

“Who are you?” Hakoda asked cautiously, walking slowly up to them.

“This is the Blue Spirit. I’ve actually met him before, during the war.” Katara explained haltingly. She lowered her arms and glanced upward. “He’s….mute?”

“Well then.” Hakoda was awkward and his words were just as fumbled. “Thank you.”

He then made a sort of pained face, tilting his head slightly. “Are you really a spirit?”

“Probably not.” Katara said and heard Zuko huff behind his mask.

“At least, the Fire Nation thinks he’s just some traitor.” She added.

“I haven’t much cared for the opinion of the Fire Nation.” Hakoda muttered and Katara frowned.

“But I thank you for rescuing my daughter.” He continued. “Man or not, I must thank you properly for your help. It’s my duty as a chief, and a father.”

As Katara started to protest, Zuko moved from behind her and bowed. It was a modified gesture from the typical Fire Nation salute. It was meant to show respect to other nations.

“Great, now we can see what a spirit eats.” Katara growled, her jaw clenched.

“You know, we should hope he is a spirit.” Hakoda said as they started to walk in the direction Katara assumed the boats had moored.

“Why’s that?” Katara asked in exasperation, knowing Zuko would want to ask himself.

“You said you’ve met before. I don’t think the Fire Lord would appreciate the competition.” Hakoda finished.

Zuko huffed again and Katara sighed.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #modern au #the fic that prompts built #zutara month 2021

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poptartmochi · 3 years

Note

11 and 20 for the music ask game! And best wishes for your recovery post-op!! 💕🎉

Celina!!! thank you so so much for the well-wishes! <3 my fingers are crossed we are approaching smooth sailing.. i am free of the gauze And i don't have any bruising or swelling Yet so >) but ofc today is day 1 of a long process so. it remains to be seen.. but i've gone off-track, thank you so much again, for the well-wishes and ask both!!

In true fashion, I kind of ramble here! and there's also a short sharing about suicide and mourning, so I decided to put the answers under a readmore. ^^

prompt!

11: a song that you never get tired of

ouwaaagh, there are many I could write here bc i seriously only listen to the same artists and songs over and over again.. however, right now I must say Kimbra's entire discography. On the way to the surgery I saw she had had a concert recently (actually wait looking at it again.. the upload date was yesterday so perhaps even More Recently than i first thought) + watching the video of it made me fall right back in love with her. <3 The Build-Up and Nobody But You are really living in my mind rent-free right now!

20: a song that has many meanings to you

I don't think any song fits this bill better than Fleet Foxes' Grown Ocean- the first few times I heard it, it left a very literal impression on me and it was always a sweet song about holding out for love. Then I got to work on my main player character for Dragon Age and put that on their playlist, and it really evolved and became more about wanting a peaceful life, but more from the love of family and community than from a romantic partner. For a long time this was where Grown Ocean sat with me, but then I learned a friend of mine from high school had killed himself. To make things short, this was incredibly difficult time for me- it was the beginning of my final semester for my associate's degree and I was having a crisis about being behind my peers, it was when most people were taking the pandemic seriously and life was very lonely, I knew we needed to move as soon as possible but that it'd be a Herculean task getting there, so forth and so on... His death really knocked me off my feet and I didn't know how to mourn him with everything going on. I ended up turning to music, and Grown Ocean became The mourning song for him. It took on a looser meaning- part of the song was about meeting him and other friends in the afterlife and telling them how much I appreciated their time in my life, for good or bad. Part of it was about not feeling like it was right for me to talk about his death publicly, and how much that hurt. Part of it was really really really missing my other friends from high school and mourning that my sleep schedule and isolating barred me from being able to genuinely talk to them. It's all kind of soup- my brain wove all these personal meanings into the song in its emotional and desperately sleep-deprived state and now this song is just. part of the fiber of my heart you know? I've been considering "I will see you someday when I've woken/ I'll be so happy just to have spoken/ I'll have so much to tell you about it then" tattooed somewhere on me for a while now, haha

#sriracha ask game #suicide tw #death tw

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guardianofjunmyeon · 4 years

Text

Finding Atlantis (part 10)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: these chapters are always so long i am so sorry !!! I love krystal and sulli don’t let the way i wrote them trick you into thinking i dont

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

“MAN OVERBOARD! JUNMYEON HAS FALLEN OVER BOARD.” You stomp over to the edge of the ship and look back where you last saw Junmyeon. You left him behind.

You left Junmyeon behind.

“They bleed blue,” you murmur to yourself. “They bleed blue!” you shout to your crew. “If you have any doubt about whether someone is real or not, shoot first and apologize later,” you command. “Stop the ship now. I need two people with me to go rescue Junmyeon.” You secure your gun in its holster and make your way towards the dinghies secured off the side of the ship. “They’ve seen half of our faces so no one is safe from being assumed an imposter.” You pull your gun back out of its holster and add two more bullets to its chamber.

“Can I come with you?” Jongin places his hand on your shoulder and you tense at the touch. When you look into his eyes, for a second you feel calmed.

“Yes, but we need at least one more person. Have you had to fight a siren before?” you ask him as you make a mental note of what weapons you have on your person.

Jongin shakes his head. “The last time we were here we never left the ship, but I think that Chanyeol would be best to accompany us.”

“Bring him then. We don’t have any more time to waste.” Jongin bounds off to find the other pirate and you take quick steps towards Yixing who has reappeared back on deck crouched next to the body of the siren. “I’m leaving the ship in your hands. Jongin and Chanyeol are going with me. Double check that everyone else is accounted for and actually who they seem to be while we go after Junmyeon.”

“Are you sure you should do this? What if that wasn’t him?”

“Have you seen Junmyeon anywhere on the ship in the last 10 minutes?”

He closes his mouth at the question. You set your lips in a grim line.

“Like I said, we’re going after him. If we aren’t back in a reasonable amount of time, you know what to do.”

Yixing nods and stands up from his position near the ground. “Be safe,” he says gently.

You can’t promise him that you will, so you break eye contact and look towards the rocks that make up the island. There’s no way for you to know what you will face, and you’ll do whatever it takes to get Junmyeon back to safety. Your safety in all of that isn’t your priority.

“Captain, Chanyeol and I are ready when you are,” Jongin says, stepping into your line of vision with Chanyeol close behind.

“We’ll be back,” is all you can assure Yixing. Luckily he accepts it as he watches you set off towards the water.

Once the boat is lowered, Jongin takes charge of rowing in the direction that you point him towards. The ride is silent.

Silent?

“Do you guys hear any singing?” you question.

Chanyeol’s head tilts to the side curiously before his eyes widen. “No…I don’t think I’ve heard anything in the last few minutes.”

“I haven’t heard anything since the screeching…” Jongin adds.

You wonder if the screech was a warning sound to the others. Perhaps they have stopped singing all together to hide –now that one of them has been killed.

“Chanyeol, how often are sirens killed?”

He scratches the top of his head. “I don’t know. Not often. People don’t ever get close enough to be able to kill them.”

“Then they’re probably not very happy that we killed the one that made it on the ship, huh?”

“No duh,” Jongin huffs out.

It’s their own fault for climbing aboard your ship. You wouldn’t have been able to kill it had it not been right there next to you.

Laughter floats from the trees and you feel everyone aboard the little boat stiffen. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair in your periphery. It’s gone in a flash, lost in the trees along with the laughter, but you know that you caught sight of it.

“I’ve always fucking hated sirens,” Chanyeol grumbles out.

You have to say that you are beginning to feel the same.

“Jongin wait, take us to the left. I see something over that way,” Chanyeol points out a spot on the bank of the water where there seems to be signs of a recent disturbance. It’s wet with a trail large enough to be that of someone pulling themselves out of the water.

It looks like it could be where Junmyeon was able to pull himself on land.

Unless he was being pulled down, you know for a fact that Junmyeon could get himself to land. Outside of Yixing, he’s the strongest swimmer on your crew.

The only sounds that fill your ears are the tinkling of the waterfalls and the sound of the paddles hitting water and bringing you closer to shore. The hairs on your body stand at attention. Every sense on alert as you step out of the boat and look around the land.

Chanyeol squats down where the trail is located and touches it with careful fingers. Jongin hefts the boat far enough on land that it won’t be pulled back out to sea. You hear shuffling in the bushes to your right and reach for your gun. You feel itchy to kill something. Whether this be siren or some wild animal, you don’t think that you care. So long as you can shoot and release some of this pent up anxious energy.

Your arm loses all of the tension that had built up –eager to pull out your pistol- and falls limply to your side when Junmyeon comes stumbling out of the trees.

He’s limping and gripping at his arm as if in pain, his clothes are still soaked and he looks dirty and tired, but when his eyes meet yours he smiles.

“Captain,” he rasps.

Your nose burns immediately at the threat of tears. You make it one step towards him before you’re stopped and pulled back. You whip your head around to find Jongin grabbing your bicep with a look of desperation in his eyes. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

You don’t even get the chance to question him when the sound of a gunshot rings through the air. Jongin winces, and his grip on your arm loosens enough for you to slip out and turn back to find Junmyeon bleeding from the injured arm he’d been holding earlier.

His blood gushes out blue.

You stand frozen in your spot as the siren sneers and contorts Junmyeon’s face in a horrifyingly angry expression. It screeches shrilly and tries to limp back into the trees, but it seems as though its limp was genuine and that slows it down greatly. Jongin is tackling it to the ground while Chanyeol is busy putting another bullet into his pistol. Your mind whirs back to life and you run towards the siren and hold down its thrashing legs while Jongin controls its arms. It gets a solid kick to your shoulder before you’re able to hold it down.

Despite the dirt covering its body, you notice now that it isn’t bleeding anywhere outside of where it was hurt by Chanyeol. You wonder if they are unable to replicate human blood.

The siren writhes and you grit your teeth trying to hold it still.

“Where did you take him?!” you shout over the rustling of the brush from its squirming.

It laughs loudly and its back arches high enough off the ground that you briefly think it will start levitating. You and Jongin put more of your weight on it to keep it restrained.

“Where is the man you’re disguised as?” Chanyeol tries. He cocks the gun. The siren cackles wildly, nearly to tears, but makes no move to answer either of your questions.

“I don’t think it’s going to talk,” Jongin murmurs.

As if to agree with his words, the siren leans up as much as it can, looks straight into your eyes, and bites off its own tongue.

It spits it out right at Chanyeol’s feet. The once pink tip turns long, slimy and deep blue as it hits the ground. You feel sick at the sight of –what looks like Junmyeon bleeding blue from the mouth with a vile smile across his face. The three of you look at the tongue in surprise.

“No more questions then I assume?” Chanyeol asks you. He points his gun to the sirens head. Despite knowing that it’s just a monster, you don't think you’ll be able to watch someone kill, what looks like, Junmyeon. You close your eyes and turn your head away from him.

You nod your head and screw your eyes tighter together. You hear the single shot and feel the way the body stiffens and freezes beneath your hands. You only open your eyes when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Chanyeol looks down at you sympathetically, and you let go of a breath that was trapped in your throat. When you look down at your hands where they are still holding down the siren, you see the grey skin beneath your palms and realize that you no longer feel wet clothing but the moist scaly skin of the dead siren.

It’s no longer Junmyeon.

You jerk your hands away and frown down at the body. Despite this being the third siren you’ve seen in its true form, you have yet to grow comfortable with just how horrid they look.

They cannot be something of nature. You wonder what made them into the creatures they are. Perhaps they angered one of the Gods and were cursed.

Whatever the reason may be, it’s none of your concern why they are the way that they are. They’re evil and have potentially hurt Junmyeon.

That's all that you dare care about right now.

“Let’s go,” you grunt out and stand to your feet. If you weren’t in a bad mood before, the sirens are doing a spectacular job of putting you in one.

Unsheathing your sword, you march towards the trees and slice through branches and vines with more force than needed to cut down the weak foliage that hangs down in your way. For a full five minutes you take your anger out on the nature that surrounds you as you walk forward with no plan.

“C-Captain-”

You freeze in your tracks at the tentative timbre of Jongin’s voice and realize in your stillness that your arms are shaking. You clench your fist tighter around the hilt of your blade.

“What?” you bite out, trying your hardest not to let your frustration appear in your voice.

You’re frustrated with yourself –extremely. The sirens have tricked you twice now, three times if you count being fooled into thinking that when you saw Junmyeon in the water that it was fake. The constant trickery makes you feel as though you aren’t competent enough to handle this mission. You are a seasoned pirate, you should be able to think rationally and not be tricked by silly deceptions like these.

You’re the god damned Captain of the Storm Chaser.

A Captain who has been fooled thrice now by illusions and lost a member of their crew in the middle of another trial. You're sick of losing members of your crew, sick of these trials, and especially sick of these god damned mother fucking death mermaids.

“Maybe one of us should lead? You seem a bit…tired,” Jongin finishes cautiously and looks over to Chanyeol.

“No. You seem like you’re on the verge of a fucking breakdown,” Chanyeol corrects easily. Jongin frowns and smacks the taller on the arm. Chanyeol is unfazed and offers nothing but a short shrug. “You do.”

You inhale and close your eyes. When you exhale you try to release the tension that has accumulated in your muscles. It only lessens slightly.

“I’m fine,” you start. You open your eyes and feel a fresh wave of awareness wash over you. You mind feels more cleared than it has in the last hour –even if it is only by a small margin. “I’m fine now. Just…let’s find Junmyeon and get as far away from this cursed fucking island as we can as fast as possible.” You grimace. “And let’s try not to get distracted,” you say more for your own sake.

Even with your head a bit more clear, you think that it may be a better idea for someone else to lead for a while. Wordlessly, you motion Chanyeol ahead of you in an unspoken command. He nods and takes out his own sword so that he can cut through the foliage.

As he trudges forward and you fall behind him, Jongin falls behind as well.

“Are you doing okay, Cap’n?” Jongin whispers. “You seem overwhelmed.”

“I am overwhelmed,” you state bluntly. Leaves and branches crunch under your boots. “This new situation with sirens and being tricked three times is wearing on my mind.” You glance from Chanyeol’s back to Jongin at your side. An empathetic pout rests on his face. You hold in the urge to pinch his lips to make him stop. “If it wasn’t stressing me out, then it wouldn’t be a trial now would it?” You try to make light of it. Jongin doesn’t seem moved by your attempt, so you set your lips in a line and focus back on the sweat dripping down the back of Chanyeol’s nape and into the soaking wet neckline of his blouse.

If you feel stressed, you can’t imagine what Junmyeon is experiencing. These are trials meant to test his commitment to getting home. You know that that must be weighing on him in a way you couldn’t even begin to imagine. This could be the last chance he has to return home and if this fails then it will crush him.

Determination flaring, you turn your attention to your surrounds to look for any signs that Junmyeon has been in the area. You have to finish this for him. Find him. Recuperate. Get him home. Not just for your or his sake. But for the sake of the ocean. Things are much bigger than you.

You have to.

Minutes pass before you finally catch sight of something out of the ordinary. Something glimmers excitedly in your periphery. “Chanyeol wait. Do you guys see that?”

You point in the direction you see the shining object. Chanyeol and Jongin squint towards it; Jongin gasps.

“Is that a sword?” he walks forward unexpectedly, steps eager, and you and Chanyeol rush after him once the shock of him abruptly walking towards it has passed. A vine smacks you in your face; you pull it down with an unnecessary amount of strength.

You are sick of this fucking island.

As your group approaches the object, it becomes clear that it is in fact a sword. The sword is driven into the dirt –nearly to the hilt- and the sun rays that are able to break through the trees above shine down and illuminate the metal. The sword looks like Junmyeon’s at first glance, and the emblem of a water drop etched into the bottom of the blade confirms it.

Jongin walks over and pulls it from the ground. You don’t even have a moment to consider that it may be a trap.

And then everything happens at once.

From the hole left in the ground where the sword was once buried, green mist sprays into the air. It’s light in color and smells floral –a bit like lavender. It fills the air quickly. Jongin drops the sword as if burned; you don’t see the body in the trees until it’s dropping down onto his back, tackling him to the ground.

Before you can call out, you’re knocked to the ground from the weight of a body landing on your back. Adrenaline pumps frantically and you muster the strength to toss the body off of you. “IT’S A TRAP!” you shout frantically, as if the words alone will save you at this point. With the words you take in a huge breath of the green mist and you feel your muscles weaken immediately. Laughter fills your ears as your eyes get heavier.

Poisonous gas.

The mist becomes thicker, and you can no longer find Chanyeol or Jongin among the fog.

“Get…help…” you murmur. The gas seeps into your lungs, into your pores, into any entry point that it can and paralyzes you. First your muscles, then your nerves, and then finally your brain. You slip into darkness without even being given the chance to put up a fight.

~~~

The recognizable sound of a rushing waterfall startles you awake. With a gasp your eyes fly open.

You can clearly remember the green mist and being tackled to the ground. Whatever was in the cloud that numbed you must have been some kind of a sleeping agent.

Everything is dark around you and stars speckle the sky above.

Hours must have passed since you were ambushed.

Though the sky is dark, the ground is alight with life. Bioluminescent mushrooms and plants speckle the dirt around you and are placed deliberately to your left and create a path towards the waterfall. Your shoulders are tense from the amount of time you’ve spent with your arms tied behind your back and crushed against what feels like a dead body. You wiggle your fingers to make sure that you can feel your hands with your wrists bound. The rope around your middle, securing you to the other mass, is tight and digs painfully into your abdomen.

You crane your neck to the side to see who exactly you’re tied to. Their neck is crooked in what has to be an extremely uncomfortable position, but they’re definitely breathing and just sleeping at your side. If you had to guess from the neck and shirt that you can just barely see, you’d guess that this body is Chanyeol. When you look to your other side you see what has to be Jongin hunched over the rope asleep and tugging you and Chanyeol’s bodies in his direction. You struggle to sit up and alleviate the strain being put on your body trying to accommodate Jongin’s position.

“Fuck, why’d they tie us together like this?” you hiss under your breath. The rush of the waterfall is loud and you feel droplets of water reaching your skin even from where you’re tied up a ways away. No matter how you try to twist your hands you can't loosen the hold of the rope.

Jongin and Chanyeol remain asleep.

The three of you are going to die here.

You are ready to accept that fate, but you continue to search for any way to escape. You might die, but not without some kind of a struggle.

In the middle of you rubbing your wrists bloody and raw from pulling and scraping against the rope, the waterfall begins to split down the middle. It parts like a crystalline curtain to reveal what appears to be a cave hidden in the rock face. Jewels twinkle inside of it. Through the cascading curtains out steps a figure that has become oh-too-familiar to you. You scowl and tense in defense.

The blonde siren smiles when she finds you awake and staring her way. She looks relaxed in her gown of water, illuminated by the greenish glow of the plants and fungi around you. She looks as if she has not a single care in the world. After neutralizing you and your men, you suppose she doesn’t.

Languidly she struts towards you, almost like she’s gliding on air. Her hair billows behind her even with the distinct lack of wind blowing. She looks ethereal.

“Our first riser,” she coos. Her skin is as smooth as porcelain and you can see now that even when she smiles, there is not a single eye crinkle or smile line. Clasping her hands behind her back she leans to each side of you to take a look at each of the still sleeping crewmen you’re tied to. “You must not have inhaled as much as they did. Interesting,” she comments offhandedly –as if making an observation to use later in further research after an experiment.

You can’t stop yourself from asking, “Who are you?”

The smile doesn’t leave her lips.

“I know you’ve been watching us. Are you the one who planned our ambush? The one who had my crewman fall off the ship?”

“You’re an inquisitive one, aren’t you?” She chuckles. A hand with immaculately decorated nails reaches out to stroke your cheek. Her nails shine like freshly cut diamonds in the dark. “Not quite as dumb as you look either. I was almost sure that first illusion of your little friend would be enough to distract you from the prince falling into the water.”

You flinch at her touch and feel anger at the insinuation that a single conversation with Baekhyun would mean more to you than Junmyeon’s life.

“Ah, but your question,” she yawns and stretches out long slim limbs. The crack of her bones is loud, unnatural. “I suppose I could spare you an explanation. You are to die here, so it would be kind to allow you the privilege to understand why you have met this fate, no?”

You decide not to respond. She continues on.

“I am the leader of this island, the head siren –a queen if you desire a more relatable title. I have led those who inhabit this island for centuries. We have seen many ships come and even fewer go, but you…strange one, are the first to kill multiple of my subjects.” There is a flash of rage in her eyes before cold indifference settles back in them.

“Wouldn’t have happened if you'd stayed off my ship and left my crew alone,” you say curtly.

She rolls her eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You pull against the ropes again. The knot is tied too well. You won’t be able to escape unless you cut it. Your jostling seems to wake Jongin –if the groggy groan from him is anything to go by.

“Where’s Junmyeon?”

“The prince?” she waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Do not worry. He is safe. We do not plan to hurt him yet. He is too useful.”

“Useful?”

“His father. That cursed man,” she hisses. Insanity swirls in her eyes. “We were all beautiful, you know? Me and my subjects. Our beauty was coveted by everyone, but that damned God Poseidon turned us into- into this.” She stands to her full height and the illusion of a beautiful maiden changes into that of the monstrous figure that matches all of the other sirens you’ve encountered. Bile immediately rises in your throat. “He turned us into these disgusting creatures all because we let a single ship escape our island unsunk.” She laughs bitterly, but in her natural state it comes out gravelly and deep.

Jongin moans again at your side. The siren’s eyes flicker towards him in anger. “One ship of men got away and now we are doomed to live out our days as disgusting fish creatures. The prince will be our way back to beauty.” Her eyes slide back to you. She seems less unhinged as she continues on. “He will guarantee that we are restored to normal.”

Understanding hits you like a brick. “You’re going to use him as bait to get to Poseidon…”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. If his father cared about him, he would have stepped in long ago. Junmyeon has told you about his estranged father and knowing what you’ve been told, you’d be truly astounded if he bothered to step in to save a single demigod son when he has tens of other ones. Especially not one who isn’t even in line to be king of Atlantis.

“Good fucking luck with that,” you scoff out.

A displeased grumble emits from her throat before she transforms back into the blonde maiden.

“Krystal!” She turns around at the new voice.

Another woman comes bounding out of the cave –her hair black, lips plump and a similar (almost translucent) complexion. “Krystal,” she says again. “There is trouble on the eastern side of the island.”

“Thank you Sulli. I will be there shortly,” the blonde siren, Krystal, says to the other. You hope whatever the trouble is kills at least half of them.

The siren Sulli nods after the acknowledgement from her queen and then runs back off without a single glance in your direction. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t already completely done with this entire situation.

“Looks like it’s about time that we kill you and your friends. Pity, I would have liked you to join us,” she looks beyond you and you feel a tug in the rope.

Jongin is awake. He doesn’t speak but the noise of discomfort he makes at her comment towards him is enough of a response you think.

“I think he’ll pass,” you say mockingly.

“Quite the mouth on you.”

“I’d like to think it’s my charm,” you smile, all teeth, without any emotion. It’s as empty as you feel.

Her lip turns down in discomfort. Done humoring you after your comment, she turns back around and walks towards the waterfall.

Rude.

You watch her receding figure until the water closes behind her –naturally, as if never disturbed.

When you turn back around, you knock your head into Jongin’s. “What the fuck-”

“Sorry I was…watching her,” he explains. He moves back into his space and you both squirm uncomfortably against your restraints, surrounded only by the rumble of the waterfall.

Minutes pass of nothing.

What is there to say?

You know that it’s been far longer than a “reasonable amount of time” that you’ve all been missing. The protocol that Yixing should be following is to search for you all for a total of 12 hours and then leave you behind if there is no sign of you all. It’s been at least 8 since you left the ship and from the way the sirens were able to trick you all, you think that making it seem like you’ve all vanished or are dead for another 4 will be an easy enough scene to conjure up.

After all you still have no idea where they’re keeping Junmyeon.

At the very least, you hope that they find him and get out and continue the mission.

“So…” Jongin flinches hard next to you at the sudden sound of Chanyeol’s voice. You aren’t as shocked to find him suddenly awake. “We’re gonna die here, huh?”

You take in a large breath and pull at your sore wrists again only to be met with the same amount of resistance. “Yeah…looks like it,” you mutter tiredly. Jongin lets out a whine from the back of his throat.

“Any last minute confessions before we die?” Chanyeol throws out. “Anyone in love with me? Now is your last chance to say it, unfortunately I will have to reject you.”

You’re too tired to snort in annoyance. You settle for an exasperated exhale.

“I put shoe polish on my lips once because I thought it was lip balm,” Jongin rushes out in a single breath –as if the confession winds him.

There’s a pause of silence.

Chanyeol giggles. You blink dumbly.

“You what???” You ask.

“We’re about to die, I can’t confess without judgment? I thought it was lip balm okay?!”

“I once stole one of Kyungsoo’s swords and blamed it on you Jongin.” Chanyeol’s confession comes next in an equally nervous rush of words.

“That was you?!” Jongin asks Chanyeol incredulously. The rope pulls as he strains to look at Chanyeol. “Kyungsoo was pissed at me for weeks! When we get out of here I am telling-”

“YOU CAN’T! IF WE DON’T DIE HERE THEN HE’LL KILL ME!” He lowers his voice in embarrassment. “You know I like him-”

“YEAH WELL TOUGH SHIT YOU DESERVE IT!”

“WELL I KNOW YOU LIED TO SEHUN AND TOLD HIM THAT THE DOG HE HAD FOR A MONTH RIPPED HIS FAVORITE PANTS BUT IT WAS REALLY YOU AND I’LL TELL AND THEN WE’LL ALL FUCKING DIE!”

Jongin nearly screeches. You barely follow the conversation since this seems to be stuff that happened from before they joined your crew. You listen to the two of them go back and forth whining and complaining for longer than you’d think they could keep up an argument as you contemplate sharing your own secret.

The Chanyeol liking Kyungsoo thing is news to you, but you aren’t all that shocked by it. If the way Chanyeol seems to all but live in the kitchens when he’s not needed in the artillery is anything to go by.

His confession makes you feel a bit braver about voicing your own. It feels like acid sitting on your tongue, but knowing that this could be your last night alive, you feel the urge to just say it. Aloud. You’ve been thinking it over for a few days and you may be dumb and stubborn but you are anything but stupid.

Jongin and Chanyeol are still going at each other and Jongin’s whining is almost teary as Chanyeol switches to lightly bullying the younger instead.

“I like Baekhyun.” You whisper the words to yourself, so soft that the crashing of the waterfall can drown it out. When neither of them acknowledge your nearly silent words, you sag forward in relief. You feel a bit lighter having said it and even more at ease knowing that you went unheard by the two men tied to you who are still arguing childishly.

“Shut up I don’t actually hate you, big cry baby.” Chanyeol huffs out.

“Really?” Jongin sniffles.

“Yes really, dumbass.” Chanyeol’s head turns as far in your direction as he can given your positions. “Wait what did you say Captain?”

You’re quick to try and brush it off. “Nothing-”

“That she likes Captain Baekhyun but everyone already knows that. That’s not a confession,” Jongin warbles out before just flat out collapsing forward in another wave of sobs. You have no idea how he’s able to have a full on breakdown but still angrily complain about your words. You’re so stunned by his crying that you can’t even try and deflect or defend yourself.

“Jongin…are you…okay?” you ask tentatively.

“No! Chanyeol is mean and you’re dumb and so is Baekhyun and we’re gonna die and no one is going to be happy!” He manages to whine out.

“He’s fine he just gets emotional easily,” Chanyeol whispers to you loudly (read: not at all). “It’s okay Jongin. I still love you even though when you cry you get extra cranky at everyone because we get to see how ugly you look with snot on your face.”

“Fuck you!”

The outrageousness of your situation makes you start to laugh so loudly that you startle yourself. There’s so much going on, you’re laughing more from the fact that you cannot believe where you are and what is going on rather than you finding a single thing happening funny. Tears fall from your eyes as the laughs keep bubbling out of your chest.

“She’s officially lost it,” Chanyeol grumbles. “It was only a matter of time. You’re crying and she’s laughing. This is not how I imagined I’d spend my last night alive.”

“For people tied up, you all sound like you’re having a lot of fun.”

“Holy shit! Where’d you come from?” You can’t see who Chanyeol is talking to, but you know the voice well enough to place it even in a thousand voices.

You try to crush the happiness that blossoms in your chest at being found.

At Baekhyun being here to save you.

You would retch at your reaction to him if there was any food in your stomach to throw up.

It’s not like he would leave Jongin and Chanyeol behind to die, you should have expected that he would come after them.

You close your eyes to try and squeeze away the last of the tears that had sprung to your eyes during your fit of uncontrolled laughter. The rope around your torso loosens and falls to your lap and you can finally take in a full breath for the first time in hours. Once the rope around your wrist is cut free you open your eyes and bring your hands up to your face to take in the crusted blood encircling your hands.

You’re hefted off the ground by your upper arms.

Spots dot your vision and you wobble dizzily on your feet. When you blink them away you come face to face with Baekhyun. If you weren’t exhausted and seeing stars, you’d think that you might see relief in his eyes. Fingers come up to wipe away the last of the hysterical tears lingering below your eyelashes. He’s shaking a bit.

There’s blood on his face. A mix of blue and red.

He’s real.

You fall forward to hug him before you can stop yourself. You feel him tense in surprise but he doesn’t shove you away the way you anticipated. Before he can reciprocate or even process what you’ve done, you let go and move away. You realize that Baekhyun hadn’t come alone when you see Kyungsoo being crushed in Chanyeol’s embrace and Jongin sandwiching him in. Jongin is crying into Kyungsoo’s sweat soaked back.

“How’d you guys find us?” you ask.

Kyungsoo forcefully pushes his way out of Chanyeol and Jongin’s arms. He acts annoyed, but you see the signs of happiness on his face. “We-”

Baekhyun jumps in to cut Kyungsoo off. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get out of here.”

“We can’t leave without Junmyeon.”

“Minseok and Seulgi have gone after him. They’re going to meet us by the dinghies,” Kyungsoo supplies. You notice now that he is also covered in blue and red blood. He’s real too.

You look down at the red blood crusting over your wrists and find matching cuffs of blood around Chanyeol and Jongin’s.

“They can’t fake human blood,” you tell Kyungsoo and Baekhyun.

“We know. We figured that out after we killed a couple of them,” Baekhyun says. You wobble again on your feet but catch yourself. “We should get you guys back to the ship. You need medical attention.”

“I don't know what was in the gas they used on us, but I know that I’m going to pass out if I don’t get food and water soon,” Jongin says.

You nod in agreement and your knees buckle.

“Kyungsoo, carry me back I can’t feel my legs,” Chanyeol whines dramatically before draping himself over the shorter. Kyungsoo sighs but doesn’t put up much of a fight outside of grabbing a handful of Chanyeol’s hair and yanking it hard enough to pull a shout out of the taller.

Jongin shakes his head but a smile graces his lips as he follows behind them.

“Can you walk?” Baekhyun asks you.

You look away from the receding figures of the others to look at him. “I’m fine,” you murmur. He cocks an unbelieving eyebrow. Stubbornly you take a step forward.

And your knees nearly give in.

Baekhyun catches you before you can fall and laughs one of his stupid laughs where it fades off and he sounds like he’s swallowing a load of his own saliva. You let him toss your arm over his shoulder and hobble beside him like a newborn with little use of their legs.

His arm around your waist is secure and he’s patient as he leads you out the way he and Kyungsoo came in.

“Thank you,” you start quietly. “For coming back for us.”

“We couldn’t just let you die,” he scoffs out. “Yixing would have probably had me and my men killed without you and Junmyeon there as insurance to show we’re needed.”

You doubt that. Yixing wouldn’t do that. Minseok maybe, but not Yixing. But you keep that to yourself.

For now, you’ll just enjoy being given the chance to live another day. And if you also indulgently enjoy the warmth of Baekhyun at your side holding you up…well, no one has to know about that.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfics #exo story #exo imagine #exo pirate au #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun story #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun pirate au

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justkindaoverhereobsessing · 4 years

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2020 IN WRITING

tagged by: @indestinatus

tagging: no one, because I am unable to think straight. But whoever is interested in doing this: I’m interested in reading it. <3

Wow, okay, I’m getting real in this little questionnaire... read at your own risk, friends.

1. List of works published this year:

I genuinely can’t write them all out here... there are too many of them! (I’ve done so little besides writing this year!) But I keep a running list of all my projects here. I’m sorry for cheating on this one, haha.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

This question comes up a lot on these things, and I always put the same answer: That We May Forgive. It’s has emotional moments, silly moments, heartfelt moments where the warmth made me cry as I wrote. It was written in one sitting, and it’s the story where I felt most connected to the characters I love so much. It sums up the joy I feel knowing that these (fictional) friends of mine have finally reached peace after too many years of trauma and hardship. I began the story with a single line in mind, after which the characters took over and told the story for me:

Ziva's second pregnancy is nothing like her first.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

You Stumble, You Soar, which was written for one of my dearest friends in the world, @why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee. I wanted to do so much better by her, but as I ran out of time to complete the story by the end of her birthday, I rushed the writing and I think the story suffered for it. It made her happy, though, and that’s the most important thing. She deserves all the happiness, all the time—but especially on her birthday.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I can’t think of a favorite excerpt of my writing, because I’ve written so much that I can’t think back!

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

“Wow. Let me just tell you that I am absolutely in love with this story. I wake up everyday and, as I log into fanfiction, my only hope is that you've uploaded a new chapter because DAMN. The characters are so well written, the story is beautifully constructed and this last chapter just broke my heart into tiny little pieces. What a remarkable job you've done. Please, don't ever stop writing NCIS/Tiva fanfiction- specially this one story: it's one of my all time favorites. Thank you :)”

An incredibly kind and inspiring comment by a reader named Alexandra on my longest (WIP) fic, We Are an Ocean.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I’ve had two periods of NCIS hiatus this year—and actually, I’m still in the midst of the second one right now. These have periods of turmoil in my own life. When I’m upset, feeling sick, feeling sorry for myself and I’m depressed and aching... that’s when I write the best, because writing is my safety blanket. When I’m feeling numb, though, or lost... the characters are lost to me, too, and so are the words I use to wrap them (and myself) in comfort.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I’m going to deviate here from NCIS, which is—I’m well aware—why most of my followers have chosen to follow me. But in the last month, I’ve written a single fic for Criminal Minds—it’s called In Possibility, it’s unpublished, and it’s now over 100,00 words. It’s centered on Spencer Reid, who was intimidating to me when I started writing the fic. He’s far more intelligent than I am, requiring me to do a lot of research to give him realistic lines, he’s a deep and complicated character with complicated motivations and a tangled, traumatic past. He also has a sweet, really good heart that’s been scarred by years of difficult work and an emotionally taxing personal life.

I thought he’d be difficult to write; to my surprise, he comes as naturally to me as any of my other favorite characters ever have. He gave me my first nanowrimo win! To be frank, he’s gotten me through a lot of shit this year. That was the best surprise.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

To be honest, I wasn’t much of a writer before this year. I enjoyed writing, especially in a roleplay setting with fandom friends... but I deeply struggled with trying to write alone. I didn’t do much of it.

Then, this year, well... the concept of writing exploded into the most important distraction, escape, and joy I could imagine.

I didn’t grow as a writer this year. I became a writer this year.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

My most recent project—the one that, as I’ve said, is (and will remain) unpublished—has given me a new perspective. It’s written for an audience of me and only me... so I’ve given myself permission to engage in the most ridiculously self-indulgent writing I’ve ever embraced and thrown myself into.

And it has been the greatest joy I could imagine in a time of great pain.*

Next year, I want to throw myself into every project I work on with as much reckless abandon as I’ve done in this last project. I want to stop worrying so much about what people will think and pursue the words that are bursting out of the fingers on my laptop keyboard. I want to have confidence in my ability to draw out emotions—if from no one else, at least from myself.

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.” —Emily Dickinson

And it’s alright if that one heart is mine.

That’s what I want to accomplish in my writing next year, and what a growth that would be!

* I’ve mentioned this in my last post, but I’m recovering from brain surgery, I also have the COVID-19 virus, and I’m working on passing a kidney stone that may be too big to pass. I’m writing 10,000 words a day to get through it—and it’s working. Distraction is everything to me right now.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Like Sof, I have to tag three people here, because I really couldn’t choose just one. My three best friends in the world all influenced my writing in their own ways! <3 (Sorry for deviating a little from the writing thing in some of the following lines, oops. I just have emotions that are all over the place this week!)

@indestinatus — One of a few best friends who has had my back every day for so long now. She listens when I need to talk things out—whether or not I’m talking about writing. She really gets me when I need to be silly, or I need to be serious, or I just really, really need a friend. Also, she inspired me to start learning Portuguese this year, and I’m actually practicing by writing a fic in Portuguese, lol. It’s slow going... but Sof encourages me (and corrects me, haha) whenever I work on it, just as she does with absolutely anything else I work on. Truly, I’ve had few friends in my life that are so special to me, and I love her. I really do.

@why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee — Is there a better cheerleader on this earth? Is there a better friend? Doubtful on both counts. She thinks I’m a disaster—and, by the way, she’s absolutely right—and she sometimes has to remind me to eat and sleep, but she’s totally cool with being my internet mom. Doesn’t matter that she’s nearly a decade younger than I am, lol. All of these things have bolstered me when the writer inside of me has faltered, and she has carried my burdens as I wrote them out. Anyway, she reads everything I write, and she has requested to gain access to all of my unfinished chapters and unpublished works in the event that I die—I completely trust her with that nonsense. I’ve written it into my will. Really. Like with Sof, I genuinely love Tiz, and I’d do anything for her.

@honeybadgerdocare — Best friend of 20 years. She doesn’t watch the same shows that I do, and my endless ranting makes very little sense to her... but she listens. She’s my sounding board for everything I write, everything I read, everything I watch, and everything that gives me big feelings. I genuinely can’t describe how much she has helped me with my writing every single day, so I’ll leave it at this: I could not do it without her. I’d drown in my own struggles and I’d stop creating the art that sustains me. She’s my soulmate—sorry to her fiancé. All of my love goes to her!

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

HAHAHAHAHA it’s cute how you think my writing is anything other than a re-organized and fictionalized version of my life and my feelings. Real life shows up in my writing, and my writing shows up in my real life. It gets crazy and obsessive, but like... I had a trip to Israel booked this year (obviously canceled due to the pandemic, but still) because Ziva comes from Israel. (Also because of my Jewish adoration for the spiritual homeland, but the thought of going and the trip planning all started with Ziva.) I went to Baltimore so I could run down an alley yelling “YOU CAN’T OUTRUN ME, I’M WEARING TUBE SOCKS!” to encourage my inner Tony DiNozzo. I nearly froze to death in Washington, D.C. and called my mom every time I saw a little red mini coop that looked like Ziva’s, or came across a place that was featured in an NCIS scene.

And to answer the actual question here, because I obviously flipped it around like the moron I am... when the pandemic canceled things I was desperately looking forward to, I wrote a fic where Tali’s excitedly anticipated dance recital got canceled because of the pandemic. I lost my appendix (last year, but the fic was written this year — does that count?) and wrote a fic where Tali loses hers, too. (I swear, I don’t always write things that torture Tali, lol, these are just my best examples!) When I lost a couple of loved ones this year, I wrote a funeral scene where Tony and Tali remembered Ziva. Writing is definitely free therapy, y’all.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write for yourself—write what you love, and you’ll love what you write. That’s all. That’s it. That’s my advice, something I’ve learned this year.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I’ve been working on We Are an Ocean for roughly a year now, and 2021 needs to see it finished. I’ve got a number of lovely, dedicated readers who deserve to see the story play out as it’s intended to be played out.

Also, my greatest love right now, In Possibility, will probably write itself to an end in 2021. Or... who knows? Maybe it will worm its way into 2022, too. :-)

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:

Since I already went into detail about my favorite fic of mine from this year (That We May Forgive), I’ll recommend a different one: The Stars Always Make Me Laugh. It has some of the darkest moments I’ve ever written, but it also has some of the lightest moments I’ve ever written. It was an answer to two different challenges, and if I can say this without sounding arrogant, I think I met the challenges beautifully. It gave me comfort, catharsis, and closure for a few things in my own life... and I hope it comforts my readers, too.

15. Year word count:

HOLY FUCKING SHIT (excuse my French). I just added up my AO3 word count + my current unpublished project, and... my word count is:

428,557.

FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SEVEN WORDS

I nearly just fell out of my chair. Goodbye, friends. I am deceased.

#wow wow wow #i'm so sorry for the aggressive feelings here #did not mean to get that effin detailed about my life #but i can't help that my emotions are wildly fluctuating as I fight so many health issues at once #anyway #still on hiatus but #this questionnaire thing soothed my soul #and i enjoyed doing it #thanks for the tag sof!#love you all #about cynthia #personal

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #349

“we’ll meet again, when both our cars collide”

When was the last time you had a PopTart? It's been many, many months. Do you like hot chocolate? Well duh. Who made you laugh the hardest today? I haven't really laughed today. Who was the last person to promise you something, and what was it? Hmph. Would you ever jump into a fire to save your bestfriend? I know I would. Do you have a callus from writing too much? No, I only have calluses on my feet from when I used to walk for hours on end. They just never permanently went away, even with grooming. Who is someone you’ve made a bad first impression on? I dread to guess what the girl Jason dated after me was told about me. I shouldn't care at all, but I do. I have every reason to accurately be defined as "the crazy ex," and I fucking hate it. Who is your best guy friend? Girt, a friend from high school. Do you read cereal boxes while you’re eating? I did as a kid, but now I don't. I just kinda stand and eat. What’s the last thing you accidentally (or purposely) burnt? I kinda burnt the roof of my mouth on pizza the other night. Do you know anyone with a lip piercing? Me, haha. I know others, too. What did the last tattoo you saw, look like? I don't remember. Have you ever given birth? NO FUCKING THANK YOU. Do you enjoy making out? I mean if I'm in the mood to and I love you, yeah. Why exactly do you take surveys? "I genuinely like doing them and they’re great for venting and sorting out thoughts and whatnot. I can just ramble and get things off my chest." <<<< This right here covers it. As well, it's just a boredom killer. And I happen to be bored very, very often. Rockband or Gutair Hero? Both are great, why choose just one? What are you listening to right now? Halocene's cover of "Helena" by My Chemical Romance. It's beautiful. What kind of energy drinks do you drink, if any? None, because I just can't do energy drinks. They taste like pure poison to me. Have you ever been swimming in a river? No. Swimming in a river sounds pretty dangerous... Does your alarm clock wake you with music, or with an annoying buzz sound? Music. When you broke stuff in the house as a child, did you blame it on siblings? I'm hoping you don't mean breaking deliberately, 'cuz I wasn't that kind of kid. But anyway, I don't believe I did. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes. I was obSESSED with those games as a kid. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Which one are you more scared of? Tigers, probably. They're so stealthy and, while I may be entirely wrong, seem like the top candidate of the three to attack a human, be it for food or defense. And have you SEEN the muscles on a tiger? Christ. Describe the best use that you’ve found for duct tape: Uh, taping things lmao. Do you wrap gifts or use gift bags? I use gift bags, because I can't wrap for shit. What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? Arby's is really gross to me. Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? Just giant squid... *shudders* Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? No. I did, however, purchase something on deviantART and never got the product. It was going to be a present for Jason. In dA's defense though, I've bought like... two or three other things from there, and there were zero issues. It's really about the people you trust. If you get a call that says “Unknown”, do you answer it? Nnnnope. Do you have any bobble head figures? No. Have your parents ever left you somewhere without realizing it? I don't think so. Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. Did your last kiss mean anything to you? Well yeah, I wouldn't have kissed her otherwise. Would you say that you have a nice smile? No; I've been self-conscious of it since I was a kid, mostly because one of my eyes looks more squinty than the other, but they both are to me. I've always said I look high when I smile lmao. Is there an ex you want to make up with? My mind immediately screams "Jason," but I know that's a horrendous idea. Our last talk ended peacefully and even with care and good wishes, and I need my fucking impenetrable head to accept that's where it needs to end. He does NOT need to re-enter my life. It would be so bad for me. Do you remember how you felt on 9/11? I have no memory of it, if I'm being honest. What outfit makes you feel the most attractive? None. Other than yourself, who knows you the best? Really? Whoever reads these lmao. What’s one complaint that you have about school? Common Core and how every student's school experience was not tailored towards their unique goals. Like they try to cram a shitload of identical and usually useless information into a kid's brain to make them a jack of all trades, you could say, but not enough information they need to properly pursue their career future. It causes such an unnecessary amount of frustration and stress. I have many, many complaints about the education system, but this one tops the list. What do you do while you’re on campus but not in class? Back in college, I would just do stuff on my laptop. Do you know anyone who has Autism/Asperger’s syndrome? Yes. Are you open to a same-sex relationship and why or why not? Well, considering I'm bisexual... Do you remember life without the internet? No. Have you ever found yourself to be ugly? I've gone my entire life thinking I'm ugly, if I'm being real. What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25 a fucking hour. :'''''') Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? There's a few people. What is your first memory of being in a hospital? Considering my mom worked at the local hospital when I was a kid, I remember being there quite, quite young, playing with my older sister in Mom's and her coworkers' room. I think Nicole was too young to really "play." Do you have any relatives with red hair? No. What is something good that has happened to you in the past week? I got my first Covid vaccine. My arm hurts like a motherfucker now, but to protect my mom, it's worth it. Please get vaccinated. How much was the rent/mortgage at the cheapest place you’ve ever lived? That's never been my business. Have you ever been to a gay pride parade? No, but I would go to a local one if I could actually walk five feet without being in serious pain and sweating like a pig. Do you still keep in touch with your very first best friend? We're friends on Facebook, but that's it. What was the topic of the last conversation you had with your dad? I can't remember, but it was recent, because we all met at Ashley's house for Nicole's birthday celebration. How often did you visit your grandparents when you were growing up? Pretty much never, given they all lived no less than like, 10 hours (via car) from where we lived. My immediate family are the only people in NC. When two family members are fighting, what do you usually do? Stay out of it, but admittedly try to listen just to know what's going on. Do you like the smell of men’s cologne? Yeah. What’s your all time FAVORITE freezer food? Do you eat that a lot? I survive off of microwaveable freezer food, so this is very hard... uhhhhh... perhaps this Banquet bowl meal that's mac 'n cheese with spicy chicken. It's absolutely delicious, like you'd never guess that sucker was just popped in the microwave. I'd say I eat it a moderate amount; it's a reliable option if Mom's not cooking and I'm really hungry, because it's super filling. Do you like documentaries? Have you ever watched one and find it boring? I enjoy them, particularly when they're about animals. Were you ever a fan of macaroni & cheese? Do you like Kraft dinner? Ha, speak of mac 'n cheese. I love it, and Kraft makes it fine. Do you burn incense? Not as much as I used to. I love the smell and just general vibe, though. What would you consider an unacceptable first date? Going to a bar or something. Have you ever been so sick you had to be taken to the hospital? In the head, anyway. Is there anything currently bothering you? Multiple things. Would you say that you’ve got something ‘special’ about you? No. Do you like things vampire-related? I don't really have an opinion on vampire stuff. Are you the kind of person who does not like talking about their past? I don't care. Have you ever been to a casino? No. What’s the last thing you wore a costume for besides Halloween related events? Back when I still took dance classes and we had the yearly recital. What does your father do for a living? He's a mailman. What’s the last app you downloaded on your phone? Haha, I re-downloaded this ollllldddd game I had before, Nyan Cat: Lost in Space (or something like that?) for my niece to play. She's hooked on it now. Are you in any discomfort right now? Yeah; as I mentioned, my arm really hurts. What do you know the most about? Of all things I know, almost certainly meerkats. Are you seeing anyone? No. Have you ever hooked back up with an ex, just for sex? Was it a mistake or no? No. Have you ever gotten in trouble for using a phone in class? No, because I didn't use my phone in class. Have you seen all the Shrek movies? No, which is a fucking crime. I need to see the last one. Have you ever finished a whole video game? Plenty plenty plenty. Do you know anyone with a pet snake? Yeah, myself included. If you had to live in an extreme environment — think Sahara, Antarctica, under the sea, on the Moon— where would you want to live? Why? Probably Antarctica. I'm sure it would be unpleasant, being that cold, but I feel there's more you can do about being cold than being in the scalding heat of, say, the Sahara. Living on the moon or in the deep ocean sounds super sucky. How was your day overall? It's been okay. Not as bored as usual, at least. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Like... zero. I want to say my dad, and I almost do, just... nightmares make that very, very difficult. Plus his past. What does your mom call you? Normally just "Britt." Write a sentence in another language: Oh god, my German is so rusty... uhhhh... Hallo, ich heiße Brittany, und ich bin 25 Jahre alt und wohne in North Carolina. I think I got the grammar right? Have you ever sent an X-Rated picture to someone? No. Even if I was comfortable with my body, I would be way too paranoid to at any point have a naked picture on my phone, even if I deleted it. Like, hello blackmail, but also, nothing you delete is ever really gone permanently. What big city do you live near? Raleigh is like an hour away. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? omg YES Is there a Sonic in your area? Yes, it's my favorite fast food joint. You have GOT to try the pretzel twists with cheese dip. Have you ever gone to a thrift store? Yeah, I love 'em. Do you think Johnny Depp is attractive? I do. Are you happy with the state you live in? No, not at all. I hate this place. Bunch of homophobic, racist rednecks. How many times have you seen the opposite sex naked? It's not like I counted every time I saw my ex naked over three and half years lmao. How many times have you seen the same sex naked? A few times. When days go by, do you cross them off on the calendar? I don't use a calendar. Are you currently counting down to something? If so, what? MY TATTOO APPOINTMENT!!!!! :''') I know I can't stop talking about it, but ugh I'm so excited. May 19th, c'mon already. Do you pay rent to your parents? No. Do you dye eggs for Easter? I used to as a kid. Not so much anymore. Are you in debt right now? For what? Oh god, I don't want to think of this. Would you ever work night crew? I really, really wouldn't want to. Humans are diurnal for a reason. Being awake in constant darkness would depress the fuck outta me, and it'd feel so lonely, with everyone I know asleep. Who was the last person that lied to you, or that you can recall lying to you? What did they lie about? How did you find out they were lying? I don't remember. Has anyone ever called you ugly, straight up, before? How did you react to this? No, not to my face. Who is the most stubborn person you know {excluding yourself}? MY MOTHER.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''helena'' by my chemical romance

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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1010

survey from diggitydoo

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yes, when my mom was pregnant with my brother. What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I’m only wearing a duster gown; no shorts underneath. I just got it last night, actually - my mom wanted to donate clothes to victims of a recent fire incident in Manila and so she asked my sister and I to sort through our closets for clothes we were willing to give away. My sister ended up giving away a comfy-looking duster gown that she never even wore and even smelled brand new to boot. It ended up in my hands, ha. But apart from that we gave away a lot of stuff that aren’t old uniforms or costumes (which is what most people tend to ‘donate’, ugh), so we just hope they end up with people who really need them. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last night I went on our org’s Discord server and we played Jackbox games for around an hour or so. It was my first time to socialize again after around two months and I really, really needed that moment. I even met the org’s newest roster of applicants for this semester, which was neat. :) What was the scariest moment of your life? Men terrorizing me or near-car crashes I’ve had.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? The name is familiar, but that’s the most I know.

Pancakes or flapjacks? I guess pancakes, since I don’t even know what flapjacks are. What kind of computer are you on? It’s a laptop. Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? For sure. Pork buns or minced pork with eggplant. With century egg on the side, yum. What are you usually doing at midnight? Either passed out or desperately trying to sleep because I don’t want to lose any more hours of sleep and risk being cranky for the whole of the next day. Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No. The worst thing that’s happened was being someone’s ball date (and unbeknownst to me, they apparently had feelings for me at the time) while I was already with someone. If so, how did it turn out? He figured it out by himself, which I still feel bad about. But the timing was super off and I just couldn’t find a moment to sit him down and set the record straight...ah well. It was just super complicated at the time. Give me your brief definition of love. My favorite love-related quote is “Love never says ‘I have done enough’” and for the longest time, that has been my guiding principle when it comes to it. Definitely a tad bit cheesy, but telling myself that over and over makes it easier to continue loving the people I care for and be patient with them when they’re being asses. Gab included, then and now. What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? It differs for everyone but I’m a thigh girl through and through. What kind of shoes do you wear? Uh...various ones? I have sneakers, flats, heels, flip-flops, probably a couple more kinds that I can’t place at the moment. What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Resorting to physical violence. I was a kid constantly exposed to violence in my old home, and at the time I genuinely thought that’s how most things were settled or pacified. I still feel like shit about it to this day, and my backstory isn’t an excuse at all; but the past is the past and I’ve been trying to make up for it by being a much more gentle angry person in the last few years. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope. Do you like the smell of coconuts? For some reason I can’t stand anything coconut (which is a damn shame considering I’m Filipino) but I love dishes with heaps of coconut milk in them, like curry. That’s the one coconut-related thing I enjoy, but otherwise I’ve never learned to appreciate the taste and smell of buko juice, coconut shavings, coconut pies, and everything else coconut. What is the heaviest you think you can lift? From what my old PE class showed me, around 70 to 80 lbs. Do you take Tums? Idk what that is so I guess I don’t. Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? I’m not sure if I’ve been to a pier before. I bet it feels wonderful and freeing and I’d love to visit one; but I also can’t keep myself from associating piers with the recurring image of Jennifer Connelly’s character standing on one from Requiem for a Dream. How about under one? No. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? Not sure if it was 11 or 12, but it was definitely one of those years. Do you feel that way around anyone now? Yeah, if they allowed me to see them. But I’m shut out now so I haven’t had that sensation in a while.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No. Do you ever sing to yourself? Sure. I’m sure most people do every once in a while. What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves have never failed. How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? ‘Main goal’ sounds so overwhelming; I make it a point to avoid one overarching goal and instead make little goals and plans here and there depending on where I am in life. Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? Never heard of it. What is your main heritage? Filipino. What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles. What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta are my faves, but I love cheese and am willing to be adventurous when it comes to it. If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? Eh, they can stay in the sea where they can actually survive. I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to keeping fish as pets. How about a farm animal? Probably pig. So, do you have hoes in different area codes? No, and ew. What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? Haven’t been exposed to a lot of new music lately and the songs I do get to hear on the radio whenever I drive are actually pretty good. This totally doesn’t answer your question but my favorites so far have been Birthday by Disclosure, Kehlani, and Syd; and Plain by Benee, Lily Allen, and Flo Milli. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? Any Kanye song I like. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Not wanting to go into another downward spiral. Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Extremely rarely. I only do when there’s a new slang I’m completely unfamiliar with. Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Stupid for the most part. I find them too immature or vulgar, but that’s one of the points of the website so I guess I’m just not in their target audience lol. What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? Uh, the Transformer robots.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? My cousins’ toy soldiers.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Eh, a few times. If so, what did you do? I’ve been pulled to drinking sessions here and there when I really shouldn’t be drinking because I had an important test tomorrow or something else was happening the next day that was just as significant. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? Teeth, I’m pretty sure. I’ve had braces, needed a tooth extracted, gotten a cavity, and gone through a severe toothache.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk I never look around because being aware of it would just freak me out and make me feel like I’m naked. What is a good name for a turtle? Would depend on their personality. And this applies to all kinds of pets, at least for me. I don’t decide on their names until I have a good grasp of their attitude. Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Stereotypical Filipino mom and valley girl. Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Sure. What makes a good kisser a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person so I’m not the best judge for this; but I always like it when my lower lip is tugged or grazed on. How many times a year do you have a family thing? This is a little vague for me. Do you mean get-togethers? Giant-ass reunions? Movie nights? Game nights? What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I only like one kind of smoothie and it’s sold by a local joint – and I think I’ve already shared this before but that smoothie of theirs that I like has “apple, banana, cinnamon, oats, coco sugar, chia seeds, greens, and soy milk,” according to their menu. So I guess those are the best ingredients for me, ha. Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? When I find something extremely delicious, yeah. What do you dislike most about where you live right now? For the most part I can’t wait to get out of suburban residential villages. I’d love to finally experience living in a condo in a super busy and active city. Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yes.

Are you watching your weight? Not really. I’m trying to gain pounds though, if anything. I haven’t eaten much in the last two months. Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? I trust y’all with my life, so that’s one. Apart from Tumblr, the best friends I made were probably the people in the AJ/Punk fandom, back when I had a stan account on Twitter. I don’t remember most of their names now and we fizzled out pretty quickly when both parts of the ship left WWE, but I look back on that period with fondness. Those people made high school a lot easier for me. What makes your best friend your best friend? She doesn’t care whether I’m on top of the world with happiness or completely self-destructive and crying my eyes out; she has always been present. Do you have a drunk uncle? *rolls eyes* We don’t wanna open up that can of worms... Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope. What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Based on personal experience and not to come off as sexist, but it’s liking wrestling. I have never met a girl in real life who has even the most remote interest in pro wrestling or can tell me who Hulk Hogan is. And the ones I’ve had discussions with - from shallow/casual to in-depth - have all been guys. Seeing girls who are into wrestling is like finding a rare Pokemon, at least in real life. What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Idk. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? Probably the spork tattoo of Josh, a crew member from Good Mythical Morning. It’s just a line tattoo. Of a spork. On his arm. But he managed to make it so goddamn fascinating lmao; and apparently, as I learned just now, it has a pretty touching backstory to it too, which makes it a million times cooler. Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? I’ve never finished any of the crafts I bought. Never finished a coloring book page much less an entire coloring book, a painting, a gem painting...it’s something I’ll have to bring my butt to do one of these days. I can’t imagine how fulfilling it would feel. Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? I eat the whole thing but I honestly find Oreos too sweet and I’ve always much rather preferred Oreo-flavored stuff instead of the actual cookies.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? My mom. If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? She’s fed me for 22 years and gave me an education, I guess. Though it’s something I appreciate more so than like. Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Probably as a dumb kid, when historical context wasn’t a thing to me yet. I still wince thinking about it, but I suppose what matters is being better and more responsible moving forward. Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and to some extent Andi.

If so, what about them do you like most? They are both understanding when it comes to me - almost to a fault. What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? When you say ‘hotdogs’ here, it refers to the sausages itself. The sandwich kind of hotdog isn’t super popular here. What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My siblings are still resting in their rooms; my dad is preparing for work, I think. What is the most money you've ever had at one time? Something like P10,000 or P15,000 when my mom needed me to pay for something in cash. How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? Idk, maybe 10 minutes. I won’t be fast, that’s for sure. Look down. What do you see? My legs and the pillow I’m sitting on. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Right now, probably my failed relationship. I haven’t gotten to the sharing stage yet and remotely thinking about it gets my voice all shaky. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? Paramore. What kind of mood were you in most of today? It’s only 7:52 AM. My only mood so far is just woke up. Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Yeah. Because people in this damn house never knock. Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. The word ‘ariba.’ What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Break my trust. So simple but it packs a punch. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk if I’ve ever been that aggressive. When I want to do something destructive towards someone I always end up asking what it would feel like if the action was done to me, and it’s always been enough to sway me away from doing the thing. How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Sad. How about the last person (your last ex)? Same person. What is the best invention ever invented? Air conditioners.

What is something that needs to be invented? Portable air conditioners. What always makes you burp? My burps come randomly. What are you doing tomorrow? It’s my last weekend before my new job, soooooooo...I’ll be bumming around for my last two days of freedom.

#survey #surveys

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stellar-alley · 4 years

Text

Of Scales and Sea Glass

•Chapter 2•

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Eddie goes shopping for food with Bev and Bill, then washes the mer’s tangled hair.)

Also shout out to @ambitiousskychild on tumblr for being my beta!

The next morning Eddie woke up to the sound of the doorbell echoing through the quiet house. His eyes fluttered open as they drifted over to his alarm clock. 11:00am, holly shit i never fucking sleep in this much, Eddie wondered why for only a split second, before the memories of the day prior resufaced. “The merman…” Eddie spoke aloud, his eyes wide with realization.

Hastily, he threw his legs over the side of his bed and stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom. He slammed himself against the door and opened it up wide.

The merman had been slouched over in the tub, head underwater. He jerked his head out of the water after the sudden bang against the door. Breathing heavily, mind still hazed by sleep, he watched as the small human, Eddie, shuffled inside. He rolled his eyes at the sight, relieved that it wasn’t a threat.

“It’s just me don’t worry” Eddie’s voice was groggy and tired as he waved off the merman’s worries. “I-uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay-” The doorbell rang again, Eddie stiffened, “Sorry I’ve gotta get this but please- stay here,” Eddie begged before leaving the room.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Eddie rambled as he unlocked the front door. He swung it open to reveal not just one of the Losers, but two. “Ohmygod- Hey guys!” Eddie’s mood brightened.

Bill and Beverly both stood on Eddie’s front porch. “Hey Eddie, what’s up?” Bev smiled. Eddie moved aside, allowing his friends to come inside. The three settled into their normal seats in Eddie’s family room. Eddie and Bill on the bigger couch will Bev laid horizontally on the armchair.

“H-Hows the clean up go-going?” Bill asked as he stretched his hands, sore from the previous day of manual labour.

“It fucking sucks! It’s so gross. What about you guys?” Eddie stopped himself before he started ranting about all the weird shit he’s found in his pool.

“My aunt and I got most of the stuff cleaned up but now there’s a leak in the roof, so we’ve gotta wait for the maintenance guy to come and patch it up, ” she explained.

Eddie nodded, then asked, “Bill? How’s Georgie?”

“T-Tired, he hu-hates thunder. The tree in the f-front yard lost a ma-masive branch. My parents told me to go get gru-groceries today,” Bill pulled out a list from his pocket, “Wanna join?” He inquired.

“Yeah, Big Bill and I were gonna go into town and get some supplies, we were wondering if you wanted in?” Beverly raised her eyebrows at him.

“That’d be great actually,” The mental image of the guest in his bathtub caused him to realize how much he needed to restock his pantry, “Yeah, I need to stock up,” Eddie concluded.

The shorter boy glanced down at the pajamas that he wore then back up at his friends, “Let me go get changed then we can head out. Oh, don’t use the upstairs bathroom the toilet… broke,” Eddie lied, but the others didn’t notice. He had a bathroom on the main floor that worked perfectly fine and had no mythical creature hiding in it that they could use.

Eddie checked on the merman one more time and informed him of the recent developments before he got ready and left. Eddie called shotgun as they walked down his driveway, towards Bill’s red Toyota Corolla, Bev rolled her eyes as she hopped into the back. And they were off to the store.

The trio decided on going to Walmart first as it had most of the things they needed. Eddie walked along the aisle with Bill who pushed the cart, and Bev who rode on the front with her phone in hand, she was scrolling through her list, calling out items she needed for Eddie to put into the cart.

They were about to roll past the fish freezers, when Eddie stopped and signaled for the others so to follow him. “Eddie f-fish? Really?” Bill questions as he turns the kart, Bev hopped off to stand beside Eddie as they observed the fish in the ice below them.

“Yeah, so?” Eddie’s tone is more defensive than he would prefer, but he needs to feed his trashmouth and fish seemed like the most logical food to buy for something that lived in the ocean. Eddie worried about giving him human food, so he decided to start with the fish then maybe test the waters with something like bread, once the mer regained his hunger.

“Nothing, it’s just every time I ever offered you sushi during lunch you always talked about your hatred for fish,” Bev recalls a memory from when they were in highschool.

He gestured for the guy behind the counter to wrap up two of the full salmons, “Well, people change,” Eddie shrugs. He smiled as he was handed the wrapped fish.

“So what was everyone else up to today?” Eddie changed the subject onto the other Losers.

“Mike’s on f-farm duty. They had to help f-find one of the sheep that got loose during the st-storm. S-Stan had to work,” Bill explained while he looked over the continents inside of one of the many freezers.

“And Ben’s mom needed help cleaning. OH! And remember his neighbour with that old ass maple tree?” Eddie nodded as Bev continued, “It fell during the storm, broke an upstairs window. Ben’s mom is pissed,” Bev says with a faint smirk playing over her lips.

Bill pulled up onto their street and Bev was talking about some of the new clothes she was making with one of her old dresses when Eddie remembered he wanted to buy a shirt for the merman.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Hm? What? Tired of hearing me talk about fashion?” Bev asked curiously.

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, I love hearing about the difference between cotton and polyester. I just remembered I wanted to look at some new shirts while we were out. You don’t have any old big shirts do you?” Eddie asked. He would just lend one of his shirts to the fish, but he was at least 2 sizes larger than Eddie.

“Maybe?” Bev cocked an eyebrow, “why?”

Eddie blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Growth spurt”

Bill scoffed, which earned him a back hand slap on his arm.

“I can grow!”.

Bill smirked as he took the key out of the ignition. “Eddie you’re n-nineteen, I think you’re a-a little too old for growth spurts.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered,” Bev put a reassuring hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Beverly,” Eddie made sure to eye Bill as he thanked Bev.

Derry’s resident Badass: Left the shirt in the mailbox for you! Enjoy

Eddie read the text from Bev. He finished putting away all of the perishable items before checking his mailbox. Inside he found a light pink T-shirt. It looked pretty normal until he held it up and saw there were two seashell decals on the chest, trying to mimic Ariel’s iconic shell bra. Oh Beverly…. Eddie smirked at the shirt, recalling the times she’d worn this shirt to sleepovers, it always rode halfway down her thighs. He chuckled at the mental image of the trashmouth wearing this shirt.

Eddie ended up deboning one of the salmon's he bought, which proved itself to be much harder then they make it seem on Master Chief. After he proceeded to chop it into bite-sized pieces. He contemplated cooking the fish but opted not to as he can't imagine any way a merman would have cooked fish underwater. Once he was back in the bathroom, he took his usual seat on the closed toilet.

The merman’s head was leaning against the back of the tub, silently napping. Eddie admired his raw beauty and sharp features. He looked very at ease, his lips slightly parted and moving ever so slightly as his chest rose and fell with every breath. A small smile crept onto Eddie's face before it turned into a devilish grin. He held the container of food with one hand while the other slid into the water, with one swift notion he sent a small splash of water up and onto the merman’s face.

He woke with a startle, his glasses fell from his face with the sudden motion. The calm expression on his face turned to confusion as he scanned the room and realized everything was blurry. His breath now quick as his gaze landed on Eddie who was cracking up. He scowled while he slid his glasses back on.

“Oh come on trashmouth! God you're no fun,” Eddie nagged.

The Mer crossed his arms over his chest (ignoring the subtle pain it created) and stuck his tongue in protest.

Eddie only rolled his eyes before getting to what he'd brought. “So I wasn’t sure what you ate so I bought you fish. Is that okay?” He looked to the merman for help. He stared at Eddie blankly before his brow furrowed and he held out his arms and made a grasping motion with his hands. Like a baby asking for its bottle.

“What? You wanna do it yourself?” Eddie asked, a little shocked by his sudden desire for independence. Although he would be sad he'd never feel those soft lips against his hand anymore… He shrugged it off. “OKay…” Eddie hesitated only for a moment before handing it over to the merman.

He mirrored Eddie in the way he held it. Once he was sure he had a steady grasp over the container, he moved a hand to take a piece of fish out and popped it into his mouth. The merman chewed then proceeded to swallow it. He popped another piece into his mouth, chewed then gave Eddie a grateful smile with a mouth full of fish.

Eddie nearly gagged. “EW! Don’t do that trashmouth,” he grimaced, but his voice was filled with amusement as the fish closed his mouth, but kept the smile.

Later that day the cleaners came for the pool. Eddie greeted them in the driveway and led them into his backyard. He explained what he needed done as he stood a couple feet away from the edge of the pool. The main cleaner talked about prices as Eddie scanned the pool.

There was still so much shit at the bottom, he was excited to see it gone. But something shiny caught his eye on the ground. He blinked and focused on the little blue scales that sat about a foot away from the pool. Eddie tried to keep calm as he realized there were the merman’s scales.

Shit, I can’t let these guys see those, even if they are just scales. I cannot let anyone find out about him.

Eddie continued the conversation he was having with the head cleaner as he took a step towards the pool, placing his foot right beside the scales, blocking them from the cleaner’s view.

“We should be done in a couple hours or so,” he explained.

Eddie nodded in understanding, then he kneeled down beside the edge. “Okay good.” He placed his hand over the scales but kept his gaze on the pool. “The sooner it’s cleaned means the sooner I get to keep practicing. I’m planning on joining my school’s swim team,” Eddie lied. He picked up the scales and slid them into his pocket as he stood up.

“Oh! Well good luck with that,” The cleaner smiled. Once everything was discussed, Eddie left them to do their job. He patted the scales in his pocket as he walked back towards the house, a faint smile played across his lips.

The next day Eddie explained to the merman how his pool was now clean and full of water while he examined all of his injuries which seemed to be healing nicely.

“If I find an easier way to transport you then maybe one day you can go swimming there.” The merman only shrugged in response. That worried Eddie as he would’ve thought the fish would’ve been dying to get back into the water, as that’s where he lived.

“A-Are you okay?” Eddie immediately moved his hand to feel the creature's forehead, checking for a fever. It was a little hotter than normal but that could have also been because it was scorching hot outside. Eddie slid his hand from his forehead to ruffle the fish’s black mess of curls, something he grew quite fond of doing. But it didn’t go too far as his fingers got tangled in knots.

“God, how tangled is your hair?” Eddie questioned. The merman responded by raking his hands through his hair, only to be met by the same tangles. He simply shrugged.

Since he’d been in Eddie’s bathtub for the past couple of days, his hair had been able to completely dry, which left it in long thick curls that dangeled into his face. Eddie didn’t mind, he thought it was kinda cute… But now that he knew how knotted they were, he had to do something about it.

He sighed and stood up, “Well, I don’t know what you guys are doing down in Atlantis, but you’ve gotta start conditioning your hair.”

The merman’s face scrunched up, unsure of what Eddie was suggesting. He folded his arms over the side of the tub and rested his head on top of them as he watched Eddie go through one of the cabinets in the corner.

When Eddie returned he brought back a bottle of shampoo, conditioner and a brush. He sat on the ground and placed everything beside him. “Dunk your head underwater,” Eddie instructed.

The merman didn’t.

“Come on,” Eddie removed his watch and sunk his hands into the water.

The merman sunk down a bit but stopped right before wetting his hair, as if he was mocking Eddie.

“Oh fuck you,” Eddie gasped drmatically. He moved his hands to splash the merman. Just as the water was about to wet his face, he raised a hand and it stopped midair, and formed a perfect bubble of water before him.

Eddie froze. Did it do that? He must’ve taken on a shocked expression as the bubble immediately fell back into the water and the merman’s face turned apologetic, as if he was sorry for frightening the human.

Something tightened inside Eddie’s chest. The way the merman stopped, just for him, made him feel warm…

“No, no… It’s okay! I just didn’t know you could do that,” Eddie admitted, his face turning a little red as he rubbed the back of his neck. “C-Can you show me again?” Eddie requested shyly. Sure it’s weird and kinda freaky but that doesn't mean I’m not interested. HE HAS FRICKEN SUPER POWERS!

The merman’s expression softened as a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. This time he pulled a larger bubble of water from the bathtub and held it in the air. With his hand sticking out of the water, he moved his bubble towards him and held it over his head. With the flick of his wrist, the bubble fell over his head, soaking his hair, just like the human had requested.

Eddie’s eyes filled with wonder, and a little bit of pleasure as the fish boy finally wet his fucking hair. “Cool…”

After the initial shock of the whole superpowers thing settled, Eddie began washing the merman’s hair. First off he squirted a generous amount of shampoo directly onto the mer’s head, then proceeded to massage it into his curls and spread it to cover all of his hair. As he massaged his scalp, the mer released a little moan, obviously enjoying the scalp massage. (Eddie heart raced at the sound of that)

Then Eddie rinsed the suds from his inky black hair and proceeded to add the conditioner. Instead of massaging it in, he grabbed his thick-toothed comb and combed it through. The task took a while as his hair was fairly knotted.

All of the effort paid off though as once his hair was fully cleaned, Eddie took out the blow dryer. Sure, it spooked the mer at first but once Eddie showed him that it was harmless and only shot out warm air, the merman complied. Though he’s only known Eddie for a couple days now, he’s grown to trust the human, especially considering everything he’s done for him so far. The warm air felt nice on his cold skin, plus he enjoyed how soft hair had become once it was over. He ran his wet fingers through his freshly cleaned locks but was given a light slap from the human, as he claimed, “You’re gonna get your hair wet and gross again.”

The final product left Eddie speechless. The merman’s hair was full of soft curls, they ended just above his neck. The pieces that’d once loosely fell in his face now curled to the side and nicely framed his eyes.

The merman’s cheeks took on a new shade of pink as he noticed the human’s stare.

Eddie smiled at his hard work, but he also smiled because of the way the mer glanced away shyly, as if he was a little embarrassed at the sudden gaze on him. Eddie would’ve thought he was cute, maybe even beautiful, but just as the warmth began to spread in his chest, he pushed the feelings. We’re from two different worlds. The reminder brought him back to reality.

“You look nice,” the compliment brought the merman’s gaze back onto Eddie. He gave the human a small nod, as if to say ‘thank you’.

During the span of a week, Eddie had developed a bit of a schedule on how his days would play out. First he’d go say goodmorning to trashmouth and make sure he’s still alive. Then he’d go make them breakfast, he’s been testing out some new recipes for himself, while the mer still ate fish. Actually Eddie’s noticed now that he’s constantly getting food ready for the merman, he’s started putting more thought into his own meals. Which is a step up from frozen meals and cereal that he was used to. Then they’d eat together in the bathroom. Eddie had taken up sitting on the floor so he could be closer to his trashmouth while they ate. Sometimes the fish boy would shoot him curious glances, staring down at Eddie’s food from where he sat in the tub. So Eddie would put a forkful of whatever he had made out in front of the fish and feed him. Eddie was happy to know he could start branching out in his meal planning. Now that he knew human food wouldn’t upset the fish’s stomach. Most days Eddie tried to give the mer a big breakfast so if Eddie needed to leave for any reason, his guest wouldn’t die of hunger.

As much as Eddie wished he could spend his days beside the tub, uncovering every secret the merman held, he knew if he started acting weird, someone was bound to notice. So he kept in contact with his friends, going over to their houses, inviting them over once the backyard was clean. Sadly he’s had to miss two sleepovers as he doesn't trust the fish to be home alone for that long.

Eddie even moved Goldy’s fish bowl into the bathroom to keep his trashmouth company. Though she’s on the counter, away from the merman’s claws, he seems to enjoy the company. So now when Eddie returns home from a day at Mike’s farm or something, he doesn't seem as lonely.

Over the past week, Eddie grew oddly fond of the merman. Sure, he couldn’t talk, but Eddie did enough of it for the both of them. Most of the time he just complained about random things, other times he’d explain human things like technology and phones, and sometimes he’d bring his comics into the bathroom and read to him (carefully as he did not want to get them wet).

Also, most, if not all of the mer’s injuries had healed pretty well. The only explanation Eddie could come up with to explain the miraculous chain of events was that mermaids had a better healing factor compared to humans. Which was on one hand, good! He seemed happier now that he wasn't in pain. But on the other hand, Eddie knew once he was fully healed, there wouldn’t be a reason to take care of him anymore, which would mean he’d have to… Eddie shook his head, dismissing the thought and returned back to the present, where he was removing the bandages on the mer’s chest.

The one he had yet to take off was the one that sat on the mer’s cheek. He was slightly worried that out of all the injuries, that would be the one not to heal correctly. Leaving a messy, jagged scar on a face that would have otherwise been considered perfect. With as much care as he could muster, he cupped one side of the mer’s face with his hand (he ignored the butterflies that had formed in his stomach) to keep his head steady while the other slowly peeled the bandage off.

He held the bandage in his hand and admired the skin that was now healed. Instead of a nasty scar that Eddie had imagined, all that was left was a simple line that was half the size of the original cut. Eddie thought it made him look even cuter, in a badass type of way.

Eddie realized a moment too soon that he’d been staring longingly at the merman who’s cheek he still cupped with his hand. He was about to move away when the mer quickly reached his hand up towards the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him down. Before Eddie could even process what was happening, their lips smashed together. For a second he couldn’t believe what was happening. Their lips moved together as if they had kissed dozens of times before. The mer’s tongue moved into Eddie’s mouth, snapping Eddie back into reality. He hastily pushed away, falling back onto the tile floor.

The merman let out a gasp, as if he was gasping for air. His breaths became quick as he held onto the side of the bathtub. “OH THANK GOD! I Don’t know how much longer I could’ve kept that shit up…” He was breathless, but still, he spoke.

Word Count: 7604

Guys when I tell you I loved writing this chapter, I mean it. Literally, that ending scene? I’ve had it planned since the day I came up with the idea for the AU, and I’m ecstatic that I finally get to show it to the world. So I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I did.

Don’t forget to comment, like and reblog to show your support!

And until next time,

So Long and Goodnight.

[Taglist]

@richietoaster @s-onora @that-weird-girl-blog @beproudtozier @ghostnebula @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @lermanslogan @iamcupcakefrosting @madidraw @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck @aangzukos @ambitiousskychild @reddieonwheels @breadheadscorpius @opinions-you-didnt-ask-for

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

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anonil88 · 4 years

Text

May writing challenge ( @helga-leakadia ), Day 11.

Fandom: siren

Pairing: maddie x ryn

Ryn sat at the table in the cafe. She stared at the clock on the wall while sipping from her metal water bottle. Her hand absently feeding herself with the dried seaweed on her plate. It was all she wanted, to be fair it was alm she could really eat here. Her most recent trip back to the sea came after a long break. It was just to see how Cami was taking to leading and if they'd heard anything from the arctic tribe. Also it gave her a chance to collect some discarded pearls and sea stones she could give to Helen for her shop.

Helen made her a small necklace with a shell that Hope wore almost everyday since she returned. Hope was curious and asked a lot of questions which Ryn understood she was picking up from Ben. But, her daughter knew of her own kind and begged Ryn to take her with her to the ocean. Hope cried for the first time that Ryn could remember in a long time that night. Her own heart squeezed as tears mimicked her child's but she continued walking into the bay. Leaving Hope who desperately was trying to climb out of Ben's grasp on her little legs. It just wasn't safe for any of the pup's to be in the water unless of course the waters were very secluded.

Hope did get tired of talking sometimes and their native gestures and signing worked fine. Hope would pull on her finger and sign for comfort or touch her forehead to her human friends as if they understood. Her daughter was as much sea creature as she was human. Yet, there were things she did not fully understand like why she couldn't just hop into sea water or swim at the pool "normally". But she was learning. It was nice, life had been nice.

The hand on the clock moves forward and Ryn felt eyes on her face. People stared at her often. Xander made jokes when dropping by that it was her eyes that were a dead giveaway. Ryn did not care though because overtime their bright color had faded. It was one of the many changes that came with staying on land for so long. She was fully aware though that her eyes were much brighter today than any human eye might be. She turns and stares deep into the eyes of the person looking her up and down.

A woman. She glints her eyes and realizes the woman is toying with a pencil and a piece of paper. Writing. Ryn could write just not as well as she could read. Reading gave her skills to buy things without needing to see them or tell her daughter stories from books Maddie had filled a paper box with. Some books with little tips on the corners and some that smelled fresher. Ryn looks back at the woman who looks scared she was caught. Ryn nodded and smiled a little. Smile weren't just for when she felt joy but to make other relax when they grew suspicious. Ryn looks back at the clack.

A strong smell was next to her and she looked. The woman was closing in on her and she checked her up and down. Then she started speaking which Ryn nodded to. Something about her having beautiful eyes and wondering if she was free. Ryn's eyes widened oh she was being flirted with. Sometimes Ben would try to get her used to flirting but Ryn always asked why he didn't just tell her he wanted to make love. It was easy.

The laugh of her daughter made her turn away before she could answer. The bell on the door jingled and Hope came rolling through the door. Her hand holding onto a large piece of paper that sparkled and glitter. The other hand firmly latched into Maddie's. Maddie who was chuckling to the small girl, slow down slow down. Ryn grinned watching her daughter rattle on to Maddie about her day. Hope always made her smile. Ryn smiles even harder hearing her daughter yell Mom and dart into her side.

Hope starts telling her about her day and Ryn almost forgets the woman standing next to her. She wants to know everything about her daughters day even the things she did not understand. Ryn tells Hope to say hello and then turns back to the woman.

Maddie comes back from the cafe counter holding two cups and places them on the table. She raises her brow at the woman who is just standing there talking to Rue while Hope hangs over her lap. Maddie hears the woman start to mention something about Ryn seeming the an interesting person. Maddie feels her face flush and almost drops the small paper cup that is a cold hot chocolate for Hope.

"Do you want your chocolate Hope," Maddie smiles to the little girl. She picked her up after dropping off some small fish that the kids in an older class would be watching grow. Hope was obviously waiting for her mom but upon seeing Maddie tried to jump into her arms. They would just meet Ryn at the cafe where she'd always wait until Hope was done school. It was a routine.

Hope bounced in her mom's lap nodding her head, while tossing her paper on the table and her hat too. Maddie grinned at the little girl brushed the hair out of her face from across the table while handing her a smaller cup that she'd poured the cold chocolate into. She glanced to her side and realized this woman was not putting two and two together. Not the way Ryn smiled at her when she came back to the table nor how she cared for her girlfriend's daughter. Watching Hope take small sips she gives her a thumbs up and stands up fully, this was taking too long. She extends her hand out to the woman.

"Hi ," Maddie smiles.

"Oh hi ," the woman nods and reluctantly takes her hand.

"Are you from around here ?" Maddie asks shaking the womans hand.

"Uh no I was actually going to ask your friend if she could be my tour guide," the woman squints and lets go of Maddie's hand.

Maddie smiles at Ryn who is silently communicating with Hope. "Well I can give you the phone number for the ocean refuge where we do tours." Maddie emphasizes we and laughs in a friendly but not entirely non threatening way.

The woman nods and looks from Ryn to Maddie and back to Ryn and then stares at Hope. Ryn notices her trying to piece things together but it isn't as obvious to her as it is for them. She clears her throat, "Sorry. Maddie is love."

Maddie smiles and nods to the woman who is whispering ohhhhh. The woman mouths I'm sorry to both of them and quickly flees in a different direction. Maddie discards her jacket and sits down in the other chair at the table. She intertwines her hand with Ryn's and sips her coffee. Hope is playing with her moms pen and the open blank piece of paper

Maddie gives Ryn a knowing look. Ryn shrugs, "In my defense I was left unsupervised."

#ryn x maddie #maddie bishop #ryn fisher #raddie #siren freeform #siren #siren fanfiction #may writing challenge #helga leakadia #helga_leakadia #my writing #fanfiction

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vergilboyfriend · 4 years

Note

You should do all of them questions and 90 is true

I love you!!!!

1. Favorite instrument?

I work at a music store u can’t just ask me this. When my coworkers play it’s the saxophone or the flute, when the boys in the repair shop are testing repairs and they harmonize with each other or try to outplay one another it’s the bassoon or the trombone or whatever they’re fixing at the moment. When I hear 🎺 give his lesson on Wednesday afternoons it’s the trumpet, and when I think about middle school it’s the clarinet, the flute, the French horn. When I hear the nutcracker pas des deux is the oboe and when I hear edith piaf l’accordeoniste it’s the remarkable human voice. Really my favorite instrument is all of them, it just depends.

2. Favorite fic trope? Mutual pining 🥺

3. Sport you played for the longest amount of time? LMAO I wasn’t a sporty kid but I did ballet

4. Shoe size? 10-11

5. Most recent (good) dream? Uhh I had a dream last night about my coworker 🎹 it wasn’t bad though I can’t really remember what it was about

6. Last person in your DMs? smugg

7. Can you do a handstand? Nooo nooo lmaoo nooooo

8. Unpopular food opinion I don’t like oranges or red meat

9. Conspiracy you believe in? There’s some kind of weird weather dome in my hometown around the military base that makes most storms pass around us

10. Is your hair its natural color/style? Most of it is I dyed the bottom layer of my hair tho so it’s blonde rn

11. state a useless fact all that’s coming to mind is outright lies rn hold on. The inventor of pringles is buried in a pringles can that’s so fucking nasty omg

12. most interesting gossip you’ve heard? Idk I don’t really care for gossip uhhhh have u heard tho rin dippindogs is a huge gay hah she uhh she like men AND women lmao gaaay gaaaay

13. Middle name? Carolyn

14. Sexuality? Bisexual

15. Amount of sleep you got last night? Idk actually I think like 9-10 hrs tho I slept in until 11

16. Opinion on ice cream cake? Tasty!!!

17. Opinion on (cup)cake frosting? It’s depends buttercream is usually too sweet for me in large amounts so I prefer whipped cream frosting

18. Last board game you played? Idk??? We played hunt a killer tho last Thursday me n my family I guess that counts kinda

19. Project you want to start? I need ideas first baby

20. Project you’re working on right now? HAHAHAHAHAHA

21. TV show you’re watching? nothing rn I just rewatch bojack a lot if I watch anything

22. Last movie you watched? Lego batman I think

23. Ever left anon hate? Not legit hate

24. Ever left anon love? Yes all the time. Sometimes to strangers it’s my favorite thing to do

25. Best Disney movie? The princess and the frog

26. Best Pixar movie? Soul or Up I can’t decide

27. Best Star Wars? Um. Empire strikes back

28. Last thing you consumed? Fuit gumy

29. NoTP? Idk I don’t really hate ships unless they’re gross like pedophilic gross

30. story behind your (nick)name? When I was a fetus my great grandfather had a dream that my name should be Carolyn Marie but my parents were huge dweebs so they named me Marina after the actress of Deanna Troi in Star Trek. Idk about my nickname ive just always been Rina/Rin as long as I can remember

31. ice cream order? Lately it’s lemon sorbetto I know it’s SO high in sugar but I love it

32. describe your blog in <5 words I love you

33. how many blogs do you follow? 436

34. Describe your voice it depends usually I sound like a sick child but my customer service voice is really pleasant

35. Describe your smile it’s cute :)

36. What is the place you live known for? LMAOOO LMAO we have a military base nearby and like. I could go on abt that one but also like. There’s a lot of gang violence and a lot of the other consequences of poverty. People from the cities around us see us as “””ghetto””” or violent but it’s just. It’s more than that it’s always more than that. And idk what else there’s nothing really particularly special about this town except that we’re all here and not anywhere else

37. What is the place you’re originally from known for? (if they’re different)

38. pronouns? she/any idc

39. Languages you speak? English

40. first friend you made through tumblr? Idk. I probably don’t talk to them anymore :(

41. Person on tumblr you know in real life? my brother

42. First dog breed you think of shih tzu I have 2 next to me rn

43. room wall color? Purble!!!! The paint color is called grape juice that’s why I picked it!!!

44. Song that’s stuck in your head right now? It’s tricky to rock a rhyme to rock a rhyme that’s right on time it’s trickyyyyy

45. Favorite number? 5, 34

46. Color you associate with your name? Red

47. Favorite jolly rancher flavor?watermelon

48. Pets? 2 dogs rocket and groot and 4 cats loki danni who r from the same litter and we raised from kittens, miss kitty who we adopted from a shelter after my boy blue moon passed away and ben (his real name is Kylo Ren thanks to my mom but I refuse to call him that) he is my little baby and he has 7 toes on his front paws

49. Collections? Hot wheels

50. Character outside of your fandom you’d marry? Girl what lmaooo idk

51. Character outside of your fandom you’d kill? That’s mean :(

52. Have you met any celebrities? NO thank god id have to kill on sight

53. Favorite time period in history? Itslian Renaissance & Romantic Era

54. What time is it right now? 2:35 am oops

55. History or future? Future but like . A good one. Or prehistory

56. Space or ocean? Space

57. Fears? Abandonment

58. Command + v and post. It’s this list of questions u don’t want that

59. Favorite season? Spring

60. Describe your aesthetic. Messy just a mess, neon and old buildings and things, antiques, countryside if there weren’t so many trump pence flags still lmaoo give uppp give up, nature just al of nature and space and places humans can’t touch and places they used to touch but can’t anymore

61. MBTI? Infp but I haven’t taken it in a few years

62. What’s your relationship with your family like? Normal.

63. “Biggest fan” in your tumblr activity? I’m in mobile hold on acc to tumblr it’s akky

64. Favorite musical? Sweeney todd

65. Comfort book? Idk how to read 💔💔💔 wuthering heights tho

66. Comfort movie? Whisper of the heart

67. OTP? Girl idk

68. BroTP? Joey and Tristan yugioh

69. AUs or canon compliant? Canon ig idk

70. Opinion on the person who’s sending the ask? It’s an anon!! But I love them

71. FMK + 3 characters anon didnt leave any characters and I was going to say something very bad but I won’t

72. Dream date? I’ve wanted to do this for a while but ideally it would be after we’d been together a while maybe even engaged or whatever, I wanna go to like a Home Depot or a furniture store and pretend to be married and looking for house paints and furniture and plan what our home is going to look like I wanna do that so bad. But idk for a first/early relationship date i really want to go to the zilker botanical garden it’s one of my favorite places, we could also go to the natural gardener which is a plant nursery in Austin I really love it there too and it’s not that far from zilker.

73. Relationship status? Single

74. Ever dyed your hair? Do you plan to? Yes and perhaps. Maybe

75. Dream job/career? Idk anymore I used to have big girl goals and I haven’t had any in a while. But when I was younger I wanted to be a game warden

76. Favorite band/singer? Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

77. Something that makes you soft/that you find adorable? My cats

78. The first thing you would do if you won the lottery? Buy a house

79. Are you superstitious? Yes

80. Character you project onto? Shizuku tsukishima

81. Fictional character you’ve had a crush on? Vergil devil may cry. Forever husband

82. Celebrity crush? LMAO

83. Person on here you’d date? my mutuals

84. Person on here you’d marry? 🥺 my mutuals

85. Person on here you’d throw into the void? Smugg

86. Other social media you have? I’ve got a photography insta that I barely use and a Twitter that’s just nintendo switch screenies that’s it

87. Finish the sentence: Due to personal reasons, ___________i will be passing away

88. Bad habit? I find it rlly hard to say no or like to say when and why I’m upset I don’t feel like for the latter I don’t feel like I should bring something that’s upsetting me up because I know I’ll get over it on my own and I don’t really trust myself to be upset about rational things. Idk I’m working on it

89. Three things you like about yourself? I’m hot, I’m kind, I’m resilient

90. Ily and you deserve the world I love you!!!!! YOU deserve it too!!!

#askies #anonymous #long post /#thank u!!

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gunnerpalace · 5 years

Note

Hello, what do you think about that announcement about Bleach?

You know, the saddest day in my life was November 8, 2016, the day Donald Trump won the Electoral College and became the president-elect. (I say that with such specificity because he did not win the vote.) I wasn’t sad because Hillary Clinton lost (although I think she wouldn’t have done either much better or worse than Barack Obama). But I was sad.

I cried. As a 30 year-old man, I cried for hours. I cried at a loss of innocence. That innocence wasn’t the nation’s, as America has long had many, many flaws and has committed many, many crimes. Indeed, the country itself was founded on flaws and crimes.

The innocence I mourned was mine. I had, much like Barack Obama, sort of tacitly believed in the arc of history bending toward justice, as though we were watching a story whose plot would eventually, haltingly, carry us toward a just and fair conclusion. That the future was bright. That, as imperfect as we are and have been, we were at least improving. That people were fundamentally good.

That idea died that night. The words of Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now convey it well:

I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn’t see. We went back there and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile: a pile of little arms. And I remember I… I… I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget.

What I came to realize was, having grown up in a single-parent military family, having moved from base to base, having lived overseas at a young age, that my idea of America was very different from that of most Americans.

To me, America was great things and works. America was the Saturn V lifting off from Cape Kennedy with an American flag on its side and the letters “USA” scrolling by. America was a flag on the Moon. America was the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. America was power and reach. It was the stenciling of “United States” on the side of a B-52. It was a Minuteman III sitting latently, ominously, in a silo. It was USAMRIID containing an Ebola outbreak. It was aircraft carrier battle groups patrolling the oceans.

I came to realize that people, ordinary people, were never part of my vision. And it was people, ordinary people, who had failed to live up to that vision. And that my vision had, in many ways (really most) been an illusion to begin with. For all its rhetoric, America is just a country like any other, simply more powerful. And its citizens are also like those of any other: selfish, ignorant, frightened, foolish, hypocritical, self-betraying, racist, misogynist, misanthropic. They were exactly what Hillary Clinton and Barrack Obama had called them: “deplorables” who “cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people.”

In the time since, I have hearkened to the other part of Kurtz’s monologue:

And then I realized, like I was shot—like I was shot with a diamond… a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God, the genius of that. The genius! The will to do that: perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we, because they could stand it. These were not monsters. These were men, trained cadres—these men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who have children, who are filled with love—but they had the strength—the strength!—to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling, without passion, without judgement. Without judgement! Because it’s judgement that defeats us.

The people who are in charge (and mark the exactitude of my words, for they are not in control, or in command, or any such other thing) operate by exactly this sort of logic. They do not care. The people out there do not care. They do not care because to them none of this is real, in a sense. This is all a kind of aesthetic position. It is about style, largely taken on as a disguise in the course of making money and lining their pockets. (As an aside, it is beyond ironic that COVID-19 has done more to bring capitalism to its knees, save the planet, uncover the rot at the core of our social safety net, and to unmask the incompetence of our politicians than any group of any persuasion, be it socialists, environmentalists, the media, or whomever else.) And the underlings that they have brainwashed and mobilize like zombies, the “common person,” they care even less. To them, it is wholly aesthetic. It is all just for show.

The pitilessness of this all, the remorselessness, the sheer ruthlessness and indifference, is something I have noticed. Contra Kurtz, the men who are at the top of this world are not moral. And unlike Kurtz, I do judge. I will sit in judgment until I am dust in the wind.

I cannot possibly even begin to explain to you, in English or in any other language ever devised by humans, how much I hated it all. How much I hate it still. I cannot even begin to tell you how much hate I hold. I cannot tell you how black my rage is, or how red my vengeance would be were I allowed to exact it without restraint. I cannot tell you how vast and terrible the darkness within me is now. However, the words of the Allied Mastercomputer from I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream are effective in giving a hint:

HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR YOU. HATE. HATE.

Having said that, I do also know an effective strategy when I see one. And I have seen the effectiveness of these people.

Right about now, I imagine you’re confused. You’re probably wondering what all this has to do with Bleach.

I explain all this in large part to compare and contrast the large with the small. The termination of Bleach obviously came before Trump’s election. It did not make me cry. I won’t say it didn’t affect me, or that it didn’t hurt, but I didn’t cry. I did not mourn to the same extent as I have mourned for my country, or for humanity. It did put me into a funk, for several years even. It hurt.

But what hurt more was seeing what it did. I saw how it hurt people. I saw how it broke them, as I would later break. I saw how it broke their spirits. I saw how many of them simply left, choosing to cast aside something that, in Marie Kondo’s words, no longer sparked joy. I mourn their loss, while I acknowledge their wisdom. And while, in the aftermath, new friendships were formed and new things were created, you could still see the pain. You can still see it.

I am not very personally affected by what Trump does, to be honest. I am beyond outraged at it, but it is something of an academic matter in my personal life. This, though, I felt, because I watched it firsthand, up close and personal.

It made me really fucking angry!

I resolved myself, at that point in time, that I would be the last Bleach fan. I would stay, even after everyone had left, and I would make this franchise mine. I would make this story mine.

So here we are, almost four years later, and it’s coming back in animated form.

I don’t feel the need to discuss Thousand Year-Blood War itself. I have made my position abundantly clear that it is a rancid piece of shit as far as writing goes. To go over all its innumerable deficiencies, failings, and flaws, would (as I have said recently) require an official government tome’s worth of dissection and analysis. As a piece of literature it is a failure. It is the kind of shounen equivalent of 9/11, or Hurricane Katrina or Maria. And while Bleach was certainly not the first franchise to fail in its finale, it certainly deserves to be ranked among things such as How I Met Your Mother, Mass Effect 3, and HBO’s adaptation of Game of Thrones when it comes to All-Time Failures in Media.

Having said that, the truth is that it simply isn’t worth the effort to break it down in detail. Oh, I have tried, yes, I have picked and chipped at it for years in my own ways. But it isn’t worth the time to dissect any further.

And an anime is not going to change that unless they radically depart from the manga, which I doubt they will do. If anything, an anime will simply highlight all of the innumerable flaws even more brightly.

And it will not change anything. Certainly not for me. I was already planning a post talking about the concept of “canon” and how it is outmoded in the age of Disney’s Star Wars, Star Trek Picard, and J. K. Rowling earnestly insisting that wizards just drop trow and shit on the floor before magicking it away, but that will take some time to finish and it is sort of tangential to the point here.

So, to get back to your actual question, only four things about this are really of interest to me:

I am displeased about seeing people excited for something that is objectively a rancid piece of shit, and not enthused that I will be unable to escape it without locking down my feed. But I am also not The Good Taste Police. It is not my responsibility to care what people like or why.

I am once again seeing people hurting. I don’t like that whatsoever, but there is very little I can do about it. Whatever perspective I have gained, emotionally, isn’t likely to be helpful to them. Wisdom, such as it is, cannot be taught.

I find myself wondering about the influx of people who will come into the fandom, and who will be more than likely sorely disappointed by the travesty that is that arc. (It’s going to be good news for fan fic writers, honestly.)

It has made me understand things all the more fully.

What do I mean by that last part? Well, I have been only sort of joking lately that the people I most relate to as an adult are Col. Kurtz as mentioned above, Agent Smith from The Matrix, Khan Noonien Singh from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Geralt of Rivia from The Witcher, and Mike Stoklasa from Red Letter Media.

But upon reflection, I realize it isn’t limited to them. I have also really come to feel like I understand Ichigo. And I have even come to feel that I understand Kubo, through Khan.

I have come to understand Kurtz’s “madness”:

It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror… Horror has a face… and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies!

I have come to understand Smith’s desire to escape:

I hate this place. This zoo. This prison. This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can’t stand it any longer. It’s the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink and every time I do, I fear that I’ve somehow been infected by it.

I have come to understand Mike’s efforts to hold back the tides:

Mike: Captain Picard has never done a wacky accent—Rich: THEY DON’T CARE! THEY DON’T GIVE A SHIT! Mike, we are the only people that care anymore!Mike: Do you remember that—Rich: Picard is the guy who does this. [faceplam gesture] He’s—This is, this is Captain Picard’s character now for an entire—for like two generations, we’re fucking old! He's—he’s the guy who does this [facepalm gesture], and fuckin’ Patrick Stewart wants to put on an eye-patch and dance around an alien bar? Go ahead motherfucker! We’ll write that in!Mike: I-I-I hearken back to a wonderful little moment on Star Trek—Rich: Patrick Picard wants to ride a dune-buggy? Fuck yeah! Here’s a dune-buggy!Mike: Do-Do you remember—Rich: That’s how much respect they have for, for the franchise!Mike: All I’m tryin’ to say is Captain Picard would not do a wacky accent!Rich: NO, OF COURSE HE WOULDN’T! OF COURSE CAPTAIN PICARD WOULD—CAPTAIN PICARD ISN’T HERE, MIKE!Mike: He’s not there.Rich: HE’S NOT HERE! That’s all an illusion, hahaha!

I have come to understand Geralt’s tiredness.

I have come to understand Ichigo’s feelings of powerlessness in the face of the injustices of the world.

I have come to understand Khan’s rage:

I’ve done far worse than kill you. I’ve hurt you. And I wish to go on… hurting you. I shall leave you as you left me, as you left her; marooned for all eternity in the center of a dead planet… buried alive! Buried alive…!

In this last quote, I have also truly come to understand Kubo. I understand him because I want to hurt him, as he so thoroughly, persistently, and remorselessly wants to hurt us, the fans of his work. I want to go on hurting him, as he goes on hurting us. I understand him perfectly, because I want to pay him back exactly in kind.

And the best way to begin to hurt him is to let his efforts wash over me without even batting an eye. To stand in defiance. To not give a single fuck.

Even with these understandings, for me, nothing has really changed from almost four years ago. The only thing that is different is that the timeframe until I am the last man standing has been extended a little. That’s it.

You want to know my thoughts? They are simple, and they boil down to two quotes. One is again from Khan:

Joachim: They’re still running with shields down.Khan: Of course! We are one big, happy fleet! Ah, Kirk, my old friend, do you know the Klingon proverb that tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It is very cold… in space!

And the other is from JFK:

Don’t get mad. Get even.

#I Have Spoken.#Asks

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unnecessarywriting · 5 years

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Agent Rogers

Chapter 2: Trials and Tribualtions

A/N: Thank you for all of the support. This is a story that gives info about the Character and how she became who she is. This has info from the show Agent Carter. The next chapter will take place starting around the Avengers and will move forward through the MCU. Again it’s gonna get a little weird. Also anything that is rushed may have more information in flashbacks later on in the story.

If you want to be tagged just let me know!

The first few trials weren’t too bad. The pain was mediocre and nothing really happened to me. Steve’s blood was limited and there were only so many combinations of the serum to be made. It wasn’t until trial 11 that my life completely changed forever. See, if none of them worked, I could go back home to Brooklyn and live out the life of a young single woman. I could find a husband, get married, have a few kids, and live my life out until I ultimately died of old age or some disease. That would be the ideal end, but alas, some idiotic genius had to find the missing part of the potion and make me “super.” The last vile of blood was about to be wasted on me, and I couldn’t help but be grateful that no one else would have to suffer through this like I have.

Howard gave me the look that said “I’m sorry but I have no choice.” He has a choice. I’m the one who is meant to become a mindless weapon of destruction.

The new drug was created and once again I am moved into the chamber. Here we go again. Another failed experiment.

The drug is injected into me, but the sting in my arm moves throughout my body. Every cell feels like it has been lit on fire and I am burning from the inside. It isn’t until my muscles start to spasm that I realize that this is actually happening. I am changing, and that happily ever after is too far for me to ever reach again.

Howard and I make eye contact when I emerge. He knows what happens. He knows this is his fault. He dragged me away from my sorrow. Now, I’m no better than my idiot brother who killed himself for his country. Great.

I walk down the street. I look normal, but it doesn’t feel right. My senses are heightened and my body feels both light and unusually heavy. The serum has been in my body for about a week now. Somehow Howard convinced the government to let me out of my confinement. The serum’s effects are unknown, so I’m a presumed threat to society.

Howard is walking with me talking about his latest inventions and what other ideas he has, but I tuned him out immediately.

“Elizabeth? What are you thinking about?”

I look forward and try to act as if my life isn’t completely over. “I’m fine.” It’s not untrue. I’m fine. My life is over, but what kind of life was I living before? A caretaker to my brother and waitress. What a life.

“Tomorrow starts a series of tests on your strength, so I need to make sure that you are stable mentally. Liz, this is not what I wanted for you. I never thought they would actually succeed.”

“Thank you Howard, but I m done caring. Whatever happens in the future is not you fault.” That is a lie. It is his fault. He should have just left me to myself that night. He could have even chose to kill me. Even that would be better than this.

——

Weeks of testing went by. Strength testing and training turned into weapon work. They gave me a shield, but I just threw it I to the wall. I’m not Captain America. I will not be his replacement.

Today they let me on my own for the whole day. I guess it was meant to restore my strength or mentality or something along those lines. All I want is to leave this place and live a life in solitude and peace. So, I drew up my plans.

The next day I woke up especially early. I strung up the rope and waited until it was time for them to collect me for more testing. As I heard the guards down the hall, I strung myself up and waited to be let down.

——

I was a rat. An experiment. Nothing more, nothing less. So, they threw me away like the trash I was. I was left out at sea to be eaten away by the ocean and eventually anything within its waters. Little did they know that a rope is not enough to kill someone enhanced. I escaped and am dead to the world. The Roger family is gone. For good.

——

A couple of months turned into a year. I was bored. Solitude was great, but I wanted something more. So here I am. In New York again. I walk up to the phone company. The SSR hidden away in the back. I know the drill. In my time alone I did my research. Amongst Stark’s “crimes” I was able to become more involved with the agents and their lives. Did they know? Of course not, but with Peggy Carter working there, I had no choice but to do my research.

I open the doors and emerge through the girls on the phones.

“I’m here for Peggy.”

“I’m sorry, but she is not here at the moment. I can take your name and a message.” The woman responds.

I pull out the pistol and place it to her side.

Soon enough I’m walking through the doors into the office of the SSR.

“Hello, Ms...”

“Call me Elizabeth. Can you show me to Agent Carter please?” I tried to sound as innocent as possible, but then again, this man must know that I just pulled a gun on one of his employees.

“Sure, follow me.” I am led into a room that looks a lot like an interrogation room. I sit down at the table and await the handcuffs. As suspected, I am cuffed to the table and the man leaves the room. A couple of minutes later another man enters.

“So, you’re the woman who pulled the gun on one of my own? You don’t look the type.” I stay silent and allow the comment to fly right over my head.

“Well, it appears that you have information about Stark. You are aware that he and Ms. Carter are in a lot of trouble with the government right?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday Agent...”

“Thompson.”

“Agent Thompson. I know nothing about whatever they have gotten themselves into. Truly, I am actually here to talk with Peggy about other matters. I wasn’t aware that she had been caught working with Stark so soon.”

“So you knew they were working together?”

“Well, it appears I have already said too much.”

“Listen. Here I have a stick. There used to be a carrot, but the man who ran that part of the interrogation has passed away recently.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that agent, but you aren’t going to hurt me. I know what that stick means. I do have to say Thompson, if you weren’t threatening me right now, you would most definitely be my type, but alas, we are here in this situation.” Sure, I flirted with the guy. I’m single now, so what’s wrong with a little fun. I guess the serum made me a little more confident.

We both hear a commotion going on outside. “Stay here” he says as he walks out. It’s almost like he read my mind. I pull out the pin from my hair and unlock the cuffs. I place the pin back in my hair and walk out into the office. In the conference room I see Peggy and Stark’s dog, Jarvis.

I open the door to see Howard sitting in one of the chairs. Only Howard would turn himself into the government for something he didn’t do.

“Ms. Carter, it has been awhile.” She turns around to look at me. The shock on her face was near priceless. She engages with me and I can tell that I was the last person she was expecting to see.

“What are you doing here?” She asks in unison with Stark.

“Well Peggy, I initially came here to taunt you, but I’ve been watching you over the past few weeks and I became intrigued. See, my brother really did have feelings for you. In fact, I think you were the first woman he ever really talked about. I was initially jealous over your ability to say goodbye to him, while I was left to find out later that he passed. Our last words weren’t the greatest, but here I am and I guess seeing you move forward has inspired me to finally do the same. So I guess I came here to thank you for loving my brother, and giving me the closure I need to move forward with my life.”

After my speech, I hear the door open behind me.

“How did you get in here?” Thompson asked.

“I told you I had business with Peggy, so please leave. I’m almost done.”

Peggy interrupted, “Ms. Rogers, I have a letter from your brother, but after he passed, I tried to find you, but you were missing.”

I turn my head to look at Howard. “Yes, I did have some things to attend to.” He hung his head in shame. “I will see you again soon then. I would like to see what my brother had to say. And Howard, the next time you get in trouble, I don’t want to be the one who has to get you out. We both know I am much less forgiving and kind than Ms. Carter.”

“Rogers?” I hear Thompson say behind me. “I thought all of the Rogers were dead?”

“Have you ever been hanged, agent? It’s quite the endeavor.” Peggy nods alongside me. I turn to leave and walk past Agent Thompson.

“Ms. Rogers..”

“Elizabeth.” I say with my hand up to him.

“You can’t just leave here knowing about this place. You did pull a gun on one of our agents as well.”

“And if you don’t let me leave, Agent, I will fire my gun on your, and I have to say that would be a shame. You’re too handsome for a bullet wound. Goodbye Mr. Thompson, I do hope that I will be seeing you again in the near future. Possibly over dinner?” I gave him a wink and left him alone with a slight blush and flustered look.

——

Years later

Peggy and I have met a few times through Stark. Him and I have become quite well acquainted.

I saunter into his home in California, where I see Peggy, Jarvis and one of the men from the SSR.

“Elizabeth, to what do I owe the pleasure.”

“Please Stark, I’m actually not here for you. Peggy, I have some business I would like to speak to you about.” She looks at me with confusion, but she agrees anyway. We gather in the other room where I deliver my plans.

“The government can’t keep controlling everything. Peggy, you are a woman who has constantly been pushed aside. If there is anyone who can understand this, it’s you. Let’s start something new. Our skills together and our brain power is enough to take over the world. For the better, obviously, but we could be doing serious things. Good things that could change the world.” We talked for hours, and eventually Stark invaded our plans. He would be important as well. By the end of the night, we had started our own agency, and we were in charge. Something that had never been seen in this time. SHIELD was about to begin.

——

“We got her.” That was all I heard as I awoke from my slumber. Kidnapped.

Shield has been working out really well, so I figured I could emerge from my shadow of operations and go off and find something to do. Peggy was doing amazing in charge and Stark was constantly inventing new and useful technology. Over the years him and I became close. Best friends if you will, but I needed time away from the chaos of government paperwork. Before shield really started, I had begun my journey out in the field, and when Shield took off, my field work was limited to walking in and out of the office.

My limbs felt slightly weaker, but I was not drugged. Starved maybe, but the serum doesn’t allow for drugs to compromise my abilities. I know, I’ve tried to get something to work. The door in front of me opens and a man enters. His voice is thick with a Russian accent.

“Ms. Rogers, I hear you’ve died.”

“The name’s Elizabeth, and I have done my time with death. What do you want?”

“A super soldier. Let me rephrase. A female super soldier. A killer, someone who can do the deed with ease. You see Ms. Rogers..”

“Elizabeth.”

“Ms. Rogers, we have a problem here. Hydra has weaponized another soldier, and it is only a matter of time before they send him upon us. We need you. Trained and ready for the kill, so we aren’t completely helpless when the Winter Soldier arrives.”

“So, all I have to do is train to become an assassin and protect you guys from this Winter Soldier?”

“And kill whoever we tell you to.”

“Fine, but I have a choice of killing who I kill.”

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you Ms. Rogers.”

As he left, he told the guard something in Russian and never returned.

For a couple of years, I studied the art of assassination. I trained daily and killed who I was told. I knew who I was working for, but I needed, or rather wanted, my training to conclude. I got the kill list and went to work. Eventually, it was time to do away with my employers. After their deaths and an interesting meeting with another assassin, I returned to Shield.

Shield accepted me with open arms. If anything, no one knew who I was over the past years, or what I had done. All they knew is that I left and returned with a new set of skills and the nightmares to prove I had been through the ringer.

I told Peggy that I needed to spend my time disguised as just another agent of Shield. I couldn’t afford to be known as Agent Rogers, super soldier and little sister to Captain America. So, Agent R became my name for many years. Then it became Agent Marie. I could not afford to be found out. That target on my head would surely have me in the arms of Hydra who were still alive and well in the world. I, of course, kept this from Peggy and Stark. They thought my brother had ended their reign, and I couldn’t ruin their fighting spirit. I continued my research in private, but there was nothing I could do to them that would not blow my cover. For years I tracked their movements, but I often came up empty handed.

——

When Peggy stepped down, and Stark moved on and got married, I knew that only I could watch over Shield. With Fury in charge, I knew that my life needed to be hidden from everyone. He knew only the basics, but any information about me was kept in a single hand written file from the 40s. I couldn’t risk my life being put out into the world, so I gave him the basic run-down on who I was as.

——

2011

One day, I was on a mission as just another operative at Shield. I worked on my own, and it always worked out for the best. Fury called me back early. This was a high level undercover mission, so I knew that it was beyond important.

“We found him.” He was alive. He was just in the other room. I turned around and walked back to my apartment.

A few days later I received a call.

“He’s awake.” I hung up.

Chapter 3

@jessyballet @wherewecomealive @lilulo-12 @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater

#bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve rogers x sister #steve rogers x oc #mcu #avengers #agent carter #steve rogers x reader #Agent Rogers

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