#sir (speaking to god) sir i am NOT your strongest soldier

[mrs-theirin]

i am going. to throw up

[acridblood]

They should exterminate the inventor of AP classes and weekend homework. Anyways rant in the tags bye.

[fingertipsmp3]

I am once again asking why everything I do leads to me having the weirdest problem ever known to man

[blueteller]

TCF Summary Arc by Arc (Part 3/8)

Every TCF story arc in a nutshell

Volume 3: chapters 200-299

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1st Battle – Henituse Territory [Enemy Clopeh wants to fight!] Clopeh: I have an army Cale: We have a necromancer Clopeh: Wait wha- Mary: BONE DRAGON SMASH [Raon used Shield! It's Super Effective!] Cale: Choi Han, I choose you! Clopeh: Wait is that a sword master?? Syrem: Wait is that a dragon?? Cale: Wait is that a dragon slayer?? The Wyvern Brigade: *gets obliterated* [Enemy Syrem Fled the Battle!] [Enemy Clopeh Got Captured!] [You won! You earned High Morale for the Roan Kingdom!] Cale: The shield did not break Everyone: *simp mode levels up* We got a national slogan now *Cale coughs blood and/or faints counter: 6*

2nd Battle – the Ocean Mage & Healer: We're special because we got red stars on our uniforms Cale: B**** please, you don't even get names Mage & Healer: Wait wha- The Fleet: *gets obliterated* [Enemy Syrem Got Captured!] [You won! You earned the unfailing trust of the Roan Kingdom!] *Cale coughs blood and/or faints counter: 7* *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 12*

Aftermath at Roan Kingdom Amiru: So the churches want to burn Mary on a stake Cale: Well f*** them Alberu: And the nobles want to give you a medal Cale: WELL F*** THEM Alberu: *shrugs* Fair enough Cale: Just please let the soldiers eat?? (I am SO hungry! ;_;) Everyone: *deeply touched* C-commander Cale…! Cale: (Surely after the war, everyone will forget about me) Everyone: *simp mode levels up*

Clopeh's Conversion Clopeh: *gets tortured and dis-Armed* (drum roll) Cale: How about you tell me everything you know? Clopeh: *realizes Cale = priest Cale* Clopeh: (I can make a religion out of this) Cale: Now tell your father to surrender Clopeh: Father, this esteemed sir is a god Cale: (WTF???)

Grand Nobles Meeting Nobles: We can't send help to some other country! Think about our positions- I mean, our kingdom's position! Cale's allies: *show up all wearing black* The kingdom is fine Alberu: *also in black* Yes, we even collaborated on the color scheme, aren't we fashionable? Nobles: (...Well s***) Cale: Peace out, b****es

3rd Battle – Caro Kingdom Valentino: *gratitude mode activated* Thank you for coming to help! Cale: *awkward* Adin: Also I'm here Cale: *pissed* The Sun Church: You got a necromancer so you're not qualified for us to help you Cale: (…I'm going to end their whole careers) The Bear Tribe: Fear us, we got dead mana bombs! Valentino: Sun Church, can't you do something?! The Sun Church: But that would like, hurt, so no Valentino: …you have literally ONE JOB. Cale: Well f*** them, your highness. I've got a solution Valentino: What solution...? Cale: Dragon simps The Dark Elves: Look, it's free dead mana! The Bear Tribe: Wait wha- The Bear Tribe: *gets obliterated* Cale: Looks like we're done h- Dragon Half-Blood: *shows up* Gasp! That aura! Are you a dragon?? Cale: (Well f***) [Enemy Dragon Half-Blood Fled the Battle!] [You won! You earned the gratitude of the Caro Kingdom!] *Cale mistaken for a dragon counter: 4* *Cale coughs blood and/or faints counter: 8* *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 13*

Aftermath at Caro Kingdom Cale: Speaking of dragon simps - Pendrick, you're up Pendrick: Huh? Cale: You're the healer now Pendrick: *sweats* O-okay? If the dragon wants me to-? Cale: Wonderful. Valentino, Adin and the Empire made the dead mana bombs. You hungry for some delicious REVENGE? Valentino: *pissed* …Starving. Cale: Perfect. Now I'm off, someone's been messing with my backyard entrance

Expansion to the Eastern Continent Mountain Bandits: *carving a statue out of a 10,000 year old seal* We're the strongest people in town!! Cale's group: *shows up* Bandit Leader: Ha! Look at those weak- Cale: Beacrox Beacrox: With pleasure Beacrox: *beats him up* Cale: You work for us now Mountain Bandits: *terrified* Y-yes sir! Cale: (…What's with them?) And you'll be ruling the Eastern underworld under Ron Mountain Bandits: Huh? Cale: But first we'll be fixing your etiquette Mountain Bandits: HUH? Cale: *starts an inn business* Cale: Why the "Hope and Adventure Loving Inn"...? Cale: ...Because we hope to backstab all the bad guys, and love the adventure of looting them

Going Back to Roan Kingdom Alberu: *headache mode on* Cale, can you please pick up your unruly children from the capital? Cale: …What did you two do? Choi Han & Mary: *picking up fights with dumb nobles* Also Choi Han & Mary: *innocently* Nothing dad! Cale: Whatever. I need to talk to the World Tree again World Tree: Guess what, Raon's mom's OP so Raon's also gonna be very OP Cale: But he's already OP? World Tree: Like, Dragon Lord OP. Cale: I see. …Wait wha- World Tree: *Windows shutdown noises* Cale: Darn it Lock: Young master Cale, I can't go berserk ;_; Cale: Doesn't matter. We're adults, we can't just rely on children to fight for us in battle Raon: ...Really? Cale: Yes, why-? Raon: *enters first Growth Phase* Cale: (Well f***)

4th Battle – the Gorge of Death [Enemy Dragon Half-Blood wants to fight!] Cale: *uses up all of his Fire Suppressing Water* Super Rock: Are you trying to sacrifice yourself Cale: No Super Rock: Are you trying to sacrifice yourself Cale: Maybe...? Super Rock: Are you trying to sacrifice yourself Cale: …Yes Super Rock: Wrong answer Cale: Wait wha- Super Rock: *turns the battle around* Cale: (…So all the stress he gave me for solid 100 chapters was for NOTHING?!?) Dragon Half-Blood: So you're going to kill me now, huh? Cale: Nope. I haven't even unlocked your tragic backstory yet Dragon Half-Blood: …Huh? [Enemy Dragon Half-Blood Got Captured!] [Enemies Flame Dwarves and Bear Tribe also Got Captured!] [You won! You earned the gratitude of the Breck Kingdom!] *Cale's Ancient Power counter: 6* *Cale coughs blood and/or faints counter: 9* *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 14*

Aftermath at the Gorge of Death Eruhaben: So you've used up all your water power and your power plate's broken, which means you have 3 days 'til you explode Cale: Ok Alberu: What's going- Cale: This is Raon, my adopted dragon son Alberu: Huh? Cale: And this is Eruhaben, my adopted dragon grandpa Eruhaben: 'Sup Alberu: Huh?? Cale: Also I'm going to explode in 3 days unless I get a water ancient power Alberu: HUH??? Eruhaben: Luckily I know where it is Cale: Sure let's go Alberu: *headache mode on* (That bastard… I'll get him for this)

Fixing Up Cale's Plate Cale: *fights a lake* [Water Ancient Power: Sky Eating Water, acquired!] Cale: Great, that means I'm healed, right? The Ancient Powers: Uh, about that… Cale: Son of a-! *pukes blood and hurts like crazy* Cale: (…At least my friends aren't here to-) Cale's group: *sees everything through video-call* Cale: (Well f***) Cale's group: *casually destroys several palaces out of frustration* Cale: (…I don't even wanna know) *Cale's Ancient Power counter: 7* *Cale coughs blood and/or faints counter: 10* *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 15*

Rebellion in the Empire Plot – Begin! Roan Kingdom: *wins the war* The Empire: *declares war against the Whipper Kingdom* Roan Kingdom's Alliance: (You, sir, just made a big miscalculation) Cale: *masterfully plotting a bloodless rebellion*

Back to the Eastern Continent Cale: Time for some peace and justice Choi Han: *confusion* Cale: …I mean time to mess with Arm Choi Han: Oh, are we looting them again? Cale: Close, but not quite Some Corrupted Guild: (I just wish a Dragon showed up and ripped all those Arm bastards to shreds!) Cale's group: *shows up* Some Corrupted Guild: Who are you?! Choi Han: We. Are. The. Real. Arm! Cale: *facepalm* Cale's group: *loots corrupted Guilds and sets them all up against Arm* Eruhaben: So what will you do with the slowly dying, 900-year-old, homicidal Dragon Half-Blood that you've captured? Cale: Put him on cleaning duty, obviously Dragon Half-Blood: …Huh?? Eruhaben: Sounds reasonable. And what are you going to do next? Cale: Throw some money away Eruhaben: You mean, like on alcohol or-? Cale: *literally burns a ton of money* Eruhaben: … Eruhaben: I'm too old for this Cale: *laughs in Rich* [Fire of Destruction Fortification, acquired!] *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 16*

Back to Whipper Kingdom Cale: *menacingly* Do you wish to live? Flame Dwarves: *terrified* Y-yes…? Cale: (…What's with them?) Great. You're awesome craftsmen, make us some firebirds Flame Dwarves: *respect mode activated* Cale: Do you also wish to live? Bear Tribe: We sure do Cale: (Big bait will sure work out great) Excellent. Toonka: FRIEND!!! Cale: (…not really?) Toonka: *pissed but helpless* Our bastard of a King wants to sell out 100,000 citizens as slaves to the Empire just to save his own skin Cale: …So what's the problem? Toonka: Huh? Cale: *totally-not-being-a-friend* Bro. Just do your thing. I got ya back Toonka: !!! Toonka: *smashes through the door* OBJECTION! Cale: …you could have spared the door tho *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 17*

5th Battle – Whipper Kingdom VS Mogoru Empire [Enemy Huten wants to fight!] Cale: *priest mode on* The Empire: Ha! There's no way those weaklings can stand in our wa- Flame Dwarves: *send firebirds out* Cale: *sets the battlefield on fire* The Empire: Wait wha- The Empire: *gets obliterated* [Enemy Huten Got Captured!] [You won! You earned the gratitude of the Whipper Kingdom!] [Congratulations! You did not bleed or faint this time!!] *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 18*

Working with the Empire – an Among Us Playthrough Cale & Alberu: *Impostor mode on* Adin: (That priest in Navigation… Cale is kinda sus) Alberu: *shows the video of Cale puking blood* It can't be Cale, I was there at the Med Scan with him. He's super fragile right now Cale: That's right. I'm of very fragile health Adin: Oh no, our poor hero… (Score! He's totally dying!) Cale: Yes. But since I'm a hero, I'll still be helping Adin: We're so grateful! (I hope he coughs a lot of blood) Cale: *puts out his own fire* Cale: (Oh how nice, no blood!) The Ancient Powers: Uh, about that… Cale: Son of a-! *coughs rivers of blood* *Cale coughs blood and/or faints counter: 11* *Cale & Co. blow up and/or destroy things counter: 19*

End Volume 3.

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[lrissa]

You’re Easier To Kick When You’re Kneeling.

summary: you and eren were both titan shifters, getting your ass beat in the court room by humanity’s strongest

warnings: violence, swearing,

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

“Good luck!”

Where the last words Hanji spoke before shoving you and Eren into the court room. Tension penetrated the air as the Survey Corps gave hard glares to the Military Police.

Spinning around you saw everyone looking to you and Eren. Embarrassment and fear crawled through your nerves, gazing to Eren as he looked just as afraid.

“I’m scared..” You whispered to the brunette, he turned to look down at your lightly shaking physique.

“We’ll be fine.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes creased softly, he wished he could reach out and pat you on the shoulder.

Straining yours eyes forwards you bit down your tongue readying yourself mentally. You noticed two long metal pillars beside eachother, gulping.

“Step forward.” An office spoke as he shoved the barrel of a gun into Erens back. Urging him forwards forcefully, quickly you walked to catch up with him.

Two officers pushed you and Eren apart. Snapping your head to the brunette, he nodded his head to you calmly, his eyes gave you comfort as the man shoved you to your knees infront of the pole.

Together the men picked up the metal and ordered you to place your hands stretched behind you, doing so they let the pole fall back into place. Having you directly connected to the pole and squatted down.

You hung your head low as the hair on your shoulders fell forwards to conceal your face. Your eyes had dilated and your body shook. Fear. Worry. Anxiety.

A door opened followed by footsteps and a chair scraping across the stone as someone seated themselves. The judge.

“Well then, let us begin. Eren Jaeger and Y/N L/N, yes?” He’d adjust his glasses and stare at the small paper in his fingers before continuing. “You are soldiers, sworn to sacrifice your life for the public good. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Eren answered as he stared bug-eyed at the judge, “Yes, sir.” You repeated after Eren and tilted your head up.

“This is an exceptional situation. The tribunal will be held under military, not civilian, law. The final decision rests entirely in my hands.” The white haired man looked from the paper to us, “Your fate will be decided here. Do you have any objections.”

Looking to the floor you squeezed your eyes shut momentarily, opening them wide again. “No, sir.” You and Eren spoke simultaneously.

“I appreciate your perception. I will be direct. As anticipated, concealing your existence has proved impossible. We must make your existing public in some form, or a threat to humanity other than titans will arise. What I will decide today is which force will have custody of you.”

“The Military Police,”

“Or the Survey Corps?”

“Then, I ask the Military Police for their proposal.”

Your head shifted to the Military Police, watching as a man readied himself before speaking vibrantly.

“Yes, sir, I am Commander of the Military Police, Nile Dawk, I will present my proposal. After a thorough investigation of Eren and Y/N’s body, we believe they should be eliminated immediately.”

Your eyes expanded as he said this. This man hardly knew either of you, not a single fucking thing. Your eyebrows furrowed into a scowl while your hands contoured into fists.

“It’s certainly true that their titan power overcame our pervious peril. However, now their existence threatens to spark a civil war. So we ask them to die for humanity’s sake, leaving behind all information they can.” He finished

Your stomach churned as he spoke, did everyone seriously wish you dead?

“There is no need for that! They are an invasive pest! They have deceived the walls that embody Gods wisdom! They must be killed at once!” A preist yelled at the top of his lungs as he pointed to us with crazed eyes. Freak.

“Preist Nick. Order, please.” The judge calmly stated before shifting his attention to the right side.

“We’ll hear the Survey Corps’s proposal next.”

“Yes, sir. I, 13th Commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith, will present my proposal. We would welcome Eren and Y/N as an official member of our forces, and use their power to retake Wall Maria... That is all.”

You stared at the Commander, that’s all. That’s all? Yours and Erens life were on the line and he couldn’t conjure up another defense statement.

“That’s all?” The judge questioned suspiciously.

“Yes, sir. With their power, we can retake Wall Maria. We believe it is clear what our priorities should be.”

“I see. And where do you plan to begin this mission”The judge stated, “Pixis, the Trost wall has been completely sealed, correct?” He added.

“Yes, it can never be opened again.” A bald man retorted.

“We would like to set out from Karanes, in the east. From there, we will proceed to Zhiganshina. We will determine the route as we go.” Erwin confidently spoke as he stared to the judge.

“Wait a minute!” shouted a man, whipping your head over, “Shouldn’t we seal all the wall gates once and for all? The Colossal Titan can only destroy the gates. If we can strengthen them, we needn’t endure further attacks!” His planned seemed smart but there where missing pieces and it would most likely be difficult to achieve.

“Shut up, merchant dog!”

“With those titan powers we can return to Wall Maria!”

“We can no longer indulge your delusions of grandeur!”

Argued two men as they yelled at one another from across the room, ‘So annoying’ you thought.

“You talk a lot, pig.” A dark voice rung throughout the court, turning your head up you spotted Levi. Behind his tough physique he was actually a bit funny.

“Where is your proof?” Levi continued, “that the titans will wait while we seal the gates? The ‘we’ you speak of are only those you wish to protect, your ‘friends’ who help line your pockets. The people who starve because there isn’t enough land to sow don’t even figure into the thoughts of you pig.” Levi finished as you stared at him with wide eyes, was he seriously protecting you from the Military Police?

“We just thought that we could survive by sealing the wall gates—“ The merchant began, “Silence!” Yelled the priest beside him as he slammed his hand on the railing, nearing the mans eyes. “Impious traitor! Mere humans altering Wall Rose, walls that were a gift from God? Can you truly see those walls? Gods work far beyond human capabilities, and not understand?”

The rest of his words drowned out as your mind took hold, thoughts of the future plundered your head as you squeezed your eyes shut.

The judges taps of his desk brought you back to reality and you snapped your head up, “Silence. You may discuss your personal philosophies and opinions elsewhere.”

“Jaeger, L/N. Can you continue to serve as a soldier, using your titan powers to benefit humanity?”

“Yes, I can!” Eren spoke clearly, the judges cold gaze shifting to you, “Yes, sir.”

“But the report on Trost’s defense says this... ‘Immediately after turning into a titan, Eren swung his fist at Mikasa Ackerman.’” You sucked in a breath and looked to Eren, his eyes extended as he looked to Mikasa. Of course, he doesn’t remember.

“Is Mikasa Ackerman present?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You are Ackerman? Is it true that, as a titan, Jaeger attacked you?” The old man questioned her.

You sighed softly, ‘As if he can control it yet’ you thought angrily in your mind.

“Yes, its true.”

Gasps of terror rung throughout the court, all eyes falling on Eren in a deathly glare.

“I knew it... He’s just another titan.”

“What about the girl!” Another protested as your head whipped to them, sending a glare to them.

“But, on two previous occasions, Eren saved my life in his titan form. The first time, mere seconds before a titan would have had me in its grasp, he stood between us, protecting me. The second time, he saved Armin and me from an HE shell. I would like these facts to be considered aswell.”

“I object,”

“I believe these comments are greatly colored by her personal feelings. At an early age, Mikasa Ackerman lost her parents and was taken in by the Jaeger household.” Well haven’t you done your homework, you pondered with a small frown.

“Our investigation had also revealed a surprising fact about the underlying events. At age nine, Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman killed three robbers who tried to kidnap her.”

More gasps could be heard as the news entered their ears, you shook your head. ‘What stupid fucking evidence to have, like they had a choice’ you considered furiously in your mind.

“Even if it was self defense, I must question their fundamental humanity. Is it right to entrust humanity’s fate, resources, and lives to him?”

Whispering and arguing broke out between the different sides, turning their heads to their fellow comrades to spew hatred. What a loss. Losing to this mans ugly mouth. You hung your head and sighed quietly.

“So is she. Do we know if we can trust her!” Referring to you as he pointed. “That’s right! Just to be safe we should dissect her too!” He looked to Mikasa next.

“Wait!” Yelled Eren and looked up to the man, “I may be a monster, but they have nothing to do with it! Nothing at all!” Eren defended as you watched, his spit flying from his mouth as he spoke from his soul. Your heart clenching in pitifulness as you frowned sadly.

“We can’t trust that!”

“It’s true!”

“If you’re covering for them, it means they’re one of you!”

“No!” He screamed and slammed his handcuffs against the metal pole, looking down in defeat, “I mean, you are wrong. But you’re simply coming up with theories that fit, whatever it suits you to fit.”

“Eren..” You said softly as you stared at him, your eyes in pain for him. He was so much braver than you and it gave you courage to see him so persistent.

Looking up you began to speak, “Besides, all of you people. You’ve never seen a titan! What are you so afraid of? What is your point if you do not have the power to fight? If you’re afraid to fight for humanity’s survival then, help us!” Your voice getting increasingly louder as you glared at the pathetic people who called themselves the Military Police.

“Just shut up and trust us!” You yelled your last statement and looked up to the judge, your chest panting heavily as you meant every word.

“Weapons ready!” The Commander of the Military Police shouted while his cadet set his gun on the railing and pointed it to you.

Until your face snapped to the right and pain shot through your nerves, your vision blurred instantly. Metal was all you tasted. A tooth had even managed to fall from your mouth and rolled onto the ground. You blinked to dimish the haziness and looked to your striker.

Levi Ackerman

“Huh?—“

His steel pointed boot slammed across your face again. Your back slamming against the pole behind you. Blood trickled down your nose and down to your chin, dropping onto the floor. Your blood had even splattered small droplets along the stone flooring.

Levi grabbed your collar and shoved you forwards to him. The handcuffs clanging against the pole as Levi stared down at you, his frigid glare locking eyes with your beaten ones before slamming his knee into the side of your head, sending it flying.

Pain. So much pain. It was burning you alive from the inside as all you could do was endure it. Tch, this guy’s a dick.

“Y/N!” Eren screamed from the opposite end. Hatred and worry evident in his tone as he struggled against his own cuffs, “Stop it!” Eren attempted again as all he could do was watch his friend get beaten to the brink of death.

Levi continued to sock you with his boot, giving you zero remorse as he beat the girl below him. Mikasa glared and got ready to jump the railing before Armin held her back.

Blood streamed down your face, a large puddle had began to form under you. You gasped for air before Levi lifted his leg high and stomped down on your head into the puddle of your demise. Grimacing at the filth and pain, all you did was lay there. If someone wasn’t looking hard enough, they’d assume you were already dead.

Croaks of pain left your body as his boot remained on your head, struggling to breath as blood trickled down your nose and into your mouth, unintentionally swallowing.

“This is a personal opinion. But I believe pain to be the best way to train someone. What you need is to be trained like a dog, not a man.”

Your rigid breathes left your mouth as you stared straight at Eren, his eyes meeting yours as he seemed to become visibly furious. Bruised and cuts tracked your once pretty, soft skin. Blood now coating all the crevices in your face.

“It’s easier to kick you while you’re kneeling, too.”

Levi lifted his boot and slammed it into the side of your head once again, giving you no time to breathe he stomped it back onto the cold ground again. Repeating his tourtue when he kicked your head all over again.

Strangled breaths was all you could muster, along with the rattling of the handcuffs as you were thrown around like trash, filling the silence of the fearful court room.

Kick. Kick, Kick.

All anyone could do was watch your doom, “Wait, Levi...”

Your head was pushed against the pole with his boot flat on your face as he turned his head to the one speaking, “What is it?”

His boot fell from your face as you hunched forwards, croaking as you gasped for air, blood trickling down the sides of your mouth.

“That’s dangerous... What if she gets angry and turns into a titan?”

You slowly tilted your head up to Levi, hair falling away from your face and resting on your shoulders. The raven head stared at you for a moment, then shoved his boot back onto your face and slamming it against the pole.

“What are you saying?” Levi dropped his leg again and gripped a fistful your hair, violently pulling you to his face as your eyes struggled to remain open from extreme bruising.

“Aren’t you going to dissect her?” He dropped your hair and stood straight, peering down to your defeated and beaten figure.

“When she turned into a titan last time, she killed twenty other titans before collapsing. If she is an enemy, her intelligence makes her a more formidable foe. Still no match for me, of course.”

Levi gazed to the Military Police, “But what will you do? Anyone persecuting her should also consider that fact. Do you really think you can kill her?” Levi spoke cooly as he stood infront of you, staring you down.

From afar you heard others speak, but your heartbeat clogged your ears as it deafened any other noise. Staring at Levi’s boots infront of you, you noted your blood coating the bottom before gently shutting your eyelids.

You could only hear Levi as he spoke from ahead of you, “I’m certain I can kill her. The only problem is I doubt I can do any less.” Levi proposed.

Hearing the pound of the desk above you, the judge made his decision. But you’d never make out what he proposed.

Footsteps stepped back from ahead of you as new ones came from behind you, uncuffing you and lifting the pole.

You tumbled forwards onto the unwelcoming ground, cautiously opening your eyes to the glaring sunlight that entered through the windows.

Eren ran to you, crouching down infront of you as you saw him shout words at you. He picked your head up in his hands and cradled you in his lap, checking for your pulse.

Your eyes began to shut again, your head lulling to the side to spot the raven head. Levi stared at you from afar, his arms crossed over his chest. The last thing you saw was the ravens dark gaze before your eyes rolled and all you saw was darkness.

be real, we all wish we were the ones being kicked

[m111nho]

What a shame

What if after you joined the scouts in order to help Eren get through his Titan experiments with the special operations squad you start getting close to the captain whom you've been bickering with all along?

(A/N) I thought about this while listening to "what a shame" by leyla blue so enjoy,,,I'll probably do sum parts lol.So I'm 4'11 irl,I didn't do it so Levi would be taller.

swearing,kind of violence, insinuated smut, agegap

around 4.8k words<3

(F/N)'s POV

It's now been twenty four hours after the stupid trial they held for Eren and we are about to set off for the old scouts' quarters where Eren will be going under a number of experiments.Now don't get me wrong I love Eren but requesting me to join him with the special operations squad to help him get through it? Couldn't he have asked Mikasa or Armin instead?Well I know they chose me because I was the only one of age,still though at eighteen Mikasa is still stronger than me so I don't see a problem with her replacing me.Yesterday's still fresh in my mind,after the trial Commander Erwin and Captain Levi approached me while I was sitting with Sasha.

"Cadet (L/N) can you join us in my office?"I heard a voice behind me say,I turned around and I was shocked.Commander Erwin with Captain Levi were asking me to join them to Commander's office.Oh shit what did I do?

"Yes sir."I saluted and looked him in the eyes feeling intimidated,I didn't even look at Captain,hell he even scared me from what he did to Eren about an hour ago.He beat the shit out of him infront of everyone for god's sake!

I followed behind them through hallways taking a few turns to Commander's office.I was the last one to enter and I closed the door behind me bracing myself for what's to come.

"Please take a seat (F/N)."Said the commander and I awkwardly sat down in front of them.Then I took the courage to look at Captain only to find steely gray eyes looking back at me,however I kept looking at him while I felt my face getting hot.Now that I've taken a better look at him I don't understand why people don't find him attractive,his face is symmetrical with a straight nose and he has a killer jawline.His hair is pitch black and styled nicely and overall he has a good physique even though he is indeed short,he is taller than me by a few inches though.Of course I've heard the stories of humanity's strongest soldier and how incredible he is but to be honest after today I think that he's nothing more than an entitled ass.A very attractive entitled ass.

I turned my head around to face commander and before I could speak he started talking.

"Don't worry cadet you're not in trouble." I let out a breath I didn't know I held. "What we want from you,is kind of a command." he continued.

"Oh." I said and he probably noticed the glimmer of confusion in my (e/c) eyes.

"Well Eren Jaeger will be brought to the old quarters of the Survey Corps under the supervision of the special operations squad led by Captain Levi,"he motioned to the raven haired man who stood still with an expressionless face."And since Eren will be experimenting all the time I thought that it would be good for him to see familiar faces,so we handpicked you to join him."he finished and I was left speechless.

"Sir,I'm sure Eren would prefer for either cadet Ackerman or cadet Arlert to join him,they're all very close."I said and looked up to the intimidating commander.

"Nonesense the reason we picked you is because you're of age and on top of your class." he replied.

"It's actually cadet Ackerman who's on top,I come in second but okay.I will be joining Jaeger and the special operations squad if that's your command."I slumped down my shoulders.

He nodded and started filling me in on what I would be doing there for the rest of the month.

I sighed turning back to see Petra who was talking with Eld.Oluo was talking about something irrelevant with Eren while Gunther was just waiting for Captain's order for departure.I learned all their names yesterday at dinner since we'll spend quite some time together.Eld and Gunther were more quiet and laid back,Oluo was the one trying to imitate the captain so he talked a lot about past missions and himself.Petra was sweet and I could see she admired captain a lot.Maybe a bit too much but that wasn't for me to judge,she was a few years older than me so we clicked.

"Oi"we heard from the very front of our formation,"We're leaving,follow my lead."Captain Levi said with a stone cold face.

A couple of ''yes sir's" were thrown and we started our journey on our horses.By noon we could see the White castle nestled in between the green of the forest.I was chatting with Petra about her Father,he seemed very sweet like her,when captain spoke.

"So when we arrive we'll be cleaning the whole place,got it?" he said looking at me and Eren.

Both of us nodded frantically but I sighed internally.I never really liked cleaning,I found it boring but I always kept my body and clothing clean,I hated the feeling of filth on me it reminded me of the streets.

We continued galloping until we reached the gates of the castle,it was massive.Oh hell no we'd spend the whole day and night cleaning it,the place looked dirty and in no way shape or form fit for residence.

It was now starting to get dark, it's been a few hours since we arrived and we've been cleaning non-stop.Captain ordered me and Eren to clean the whole the left wing.Eren wouldn't stop talking and all I could do is mentally block him out of my head to keep going with the cleaning.A knock was heard from the door of the room we're now cleaning, a second later captain Levi opened the door and I had to compose myself so I wouldn't laugh.He wore a white bandana over his hair and a fucking mask.Both me and Eren saluted.

"Are you done here?"he asked eyeing the room.

"Not yet captain,we still have a room left but we'll get right to it."said Eren before I could speak,I was still trying to hold my laughter in.

"Eren go start the other room and leave (F/N) to finish this, you'll get it over with more quickly,she will join you when she's done."he ordered and Eren agreed,running off to the next room.

I picked up the rug I was working with on the window and started scrubbing, painfully aware of captain's steely eyes on me.

"I don't know why Erwin picked you to join us."a quiet voice said behind me.

"In all honesty captain neither do I."I said not loosing my temper or turning around,I was familiar with his rude remarks,having heard a lot of soldiers complain about it over the years.I didn't hear anything apart from the door behind me close,leaving me alone.

In what felt years later we were done and heading down to the kitchen to grab some food.I caught Petra by the stairs and we walked down to the kitchen meeting an already seated captain.Petra practically run to the table and I flinched at the noise her shoes made sliding on the rocky floor.

"Captain would you like me to make you some tea?"she asked while I sat two seats away from the head of the table.

"No thank you Petra,I am already aware that you know how to make tea.Cadet (L/N) will make some for all of us."he said looking at me and I returned his gaze slightly nodding.Standing up I made my way to the kettle that was already filled with water,placing it on the stove.A yellow light filled the room and I took the tray with the cups,placing it on the table infront of the captain.When I heard the water bubbling I walked over to the kettle,taking it off the stove and throwing three teabags in it,swirling it around and letting it steep.Minutes later I took the teabags out and held the kettle in my hands.Now back at the table I started with the captain,taking a cup off the tray and placing it near his hand.I could smell his hair from where I was standing,which by the way was kind of behind him and a bit on the left side while pouring tea in his cup.I looked down to him and found him starring sight back to me.

"Do you take it with sugar or milk sir?"I asked keeping the eye contact.He raised his eyebrows.

"No,thank you."I nodded and walked around the table pouring tea to every single one of the special operations squad,Eren and then myself.I could see from the corner of my eye captain holding his cup in a peculiar way,instead of holding it from the handle like a normal fucking person,he holded it from the rim,his palm over the opening.Pouring the last bit of tea to my cup as I sat down I looked at Eren who was talking with Eld,Eld was sitting both on my left and captain's while Oluo was sat at captain's right with Petra next to him on his right .Next to me was Gunter at my right and at the far end of the table was Eren.I drifted off looking down at my cup on the table,my hand wrapped around it when a noise was heard from the kitchen's entrance.It was section commander Hange Zoë.They were supposed to come in tomorrow but I guess they were too excited.

"I was examining two titans we caught alive in the city,I would love for you to help me with tommorrow's experiments.I came here to ask for you permission." they said to Eren.

"An experiment?What am I going to do exactl-" Hange cut him off before he could finish.

"What else except of the amazing thing you already do?"

"Well I can't give you the permission, you see someone else in charge for me."he replied and Hange turned to captain.

"Levi does Eren have to do something tommorrow?"they asked and Captain seemed displeased.

"He has to clean the garden."his reply was short.

"Fine then it's settled!Eren tommorrow we're going to collaborate!"they said taking his hand in theirs.Eren looked overwhelmed.

"Yes."he stuttered."But what kind of experiments to you do with titans?"he asked and their face lit up.

"Uhm,what exactly are this experiments?"he asked once again.Then Oluo spoke.

"Hey stop.Don't ask them this."he said and I looked back at Hange.

"Ah I knew it,your expression have away your desire for knowledge!"the captain suddenly sat up along with everyone else and I did the same.I waved Eren goodbye mouthing <<goodnight>>.I felt kinda bad leaving him there all alone with Hange but he asked for it.As I turned to the left where my assigned room was I was stopped from the captain.

"Since Eren will be accompanying Hange, you'll be cleaning the garden.Understood?"he motioned down infront of the window where an overgrown carden was.I sighed, tommorrow was my day off and I really didn't want to spend it this way.

"I'm sorry captain I'm afraid I can't, tommorrow's my day off."I said respectfully and his jaw clenched.

"I see Erwin hasn't informed you about this,that bastard always leaves the hard work to me."he whispered the last part,almost to himself."Cadet while you're with us here,you will not be having days off."he stated sternly.What?

"What?I never agreed to this."

"You don't need to,these are orders cadet."

"Then I don't want to follow orders."I am not loosing my long awaited day off for this shit.

"You see (F/N), you really don't have a choice so go to sleep and be up at dawn or there'll be consequences, besides it's almost curfew."he swiftly turned around and walked on the opposite direction.Great.

As if his orders were engraved in my mind I really did wake up at dawn.Groaning I dragged myself out of bed and in the bathroom,I doubt anyone will be awake at this time so I didn't bother to change off my nightclothes which consisted of a long white tank top,I noticed that the awaited morning cold had hardened my nipples,and a pair of loose fitting pants.I actually stole these from Reiner,he was about to throw them away anyway because of a rip on the left knee.I sewed it up and now it was my favourite piece of clothing I owned.The cold water run down my body and it waked me up instantly,grabbing the soap bar I scrubbed my hair thoroughly.It smelled like lavender.Finishing up cleansing my body,I run the cold water once a gain to rinse off.I reached for the towel and wrapped it around my body,with my left hand I clenched on the material in order to secure it on my body and on the other hand I had my nightclothes.Walkind down the corridor I shivered,I almost dropped my towel when a dark figure appeared infront of me whilst I made a turn.

"By the walls captain you scared the shit out of me!"I cursed forgetting the ultimately embarrassing situation I was in for a moment.But that moment didn't last long when I remebered my appearance.I felt captain's body tense up under the back of my hand.I was practically stuck on his front so I took a couple of steps back,my face now red from the embarrassment of my captain seeing me like this.I heard him clear his throat and he most probably regained his composure.

"Uh change,have breakfast and go start with the garden.I'll be joining you shortly after I make sure four-eyes doesn't kill Jaeger."he said and I nodded sprinting to my room.Unaware of the pair of bright brown eyes that just saw my entire encounter with captain.

Quickly I pulled on my chest wrappings,underpants and a white shirt with my military trousers.I didn't have to wear the harnesses today so I ditched them in the chair near my bed and I laced up my leather boots.I combed my wet hair with my fingers,they fell just bellow my shoulders in a middle part.The kitchen was empty but it looks like someone has already brewed some tea and there's porridge on the stove.I ate quickly,drinking my tea in a hurry and I left the kitchen.The garden was peaceful but also chaotic.It was so overgrown with weeds and it desperately needed organisation,the stone path was also cover in moss.I picked up the water/vinegar solution and a scrubber.I started working on the stone pavement,getting the moss off.

Some time later it was finally finished,the sun now brightly above my head.A few drops of sweat run down my forehead,my hand willing them off in an instant.

"Oi cadet!How is it going?"captain's voice said.

"So now you join me? It's been surely hours!"just breathe (F/N) don't let your anger take over you.He seemed to catch on my anger even though I tried my best to cover it.I felt a harsh grip on my chin,tilting it up where I met his cold eyes.I was still on my knees and his force hold didn't help.

"Why are you complaining cadet?I already told you I'd be joining you when it was possible."

"Couldn't you have joined me earlier,it surely wouldn't take you more than a few minutes to ensure Eren's safety."I spat at him.

"Now brat even if I didn't join you,you still would have to finish this garden.It's orders."he said releasing my chin from his grasp.My eyes shot daggers at him,only if he weren't my boss..."Anyways I'll help you finish so we can start training."he finished.Training?

"Training?Why?"I asked

"Because." he replied and began to pull on weeds from the garden.What an asshole.Having no other option I did too and almost an hour later we were done.

"Four-eyes must have finished now,I'll get the others,you though should wear your gear."

Truly in about a quarter of a clock we were standing all together for training.Apparently Eren didn't have any progress in transforming,now with a bangdaged hand.

"Warm up, we're doing hand to hand combat today.I'm pretty sure you know it isn't as important with titans but as a soldier you won't have to face only those.Hand to hand combat is something you should rely on when times get tough."said captain."Petra you're with Eren,Gunther you're with Oluo and (F/N) you're with me,I want to test your abilities."he finished,I suppose Eld was helping Hange with something.

Everyone got in a line,captain in front of me.I made sure to keep my ground while he was just there waiting for me to do something.I could hear everyone else grunting while they fought with eachother,yet me and Captain we're not rushing ourselves, circling around each other.

"Aren't you going to make a move on me captain?Afraid aren't we?"I said with a smirk and he scoffed.

"It's not my fucking skills that are being tested (F/N) so just start."he did have a point so with all my strength I went in with my right fist straight to his face,I already knew he'd avoid it so the moment he did I tripped him using my leg.He did however notice and he wasn't about to fall down,at least without me.His right hand grabbed my waist and I fell on top of him with a whelp.In my state of surprise he took both of my wrists,rolling over on my body pinning them over my head.I grunted,his smug face inches from my own,he really did have beautiful eyes.It looked as if I was defeated but I had another trick up my sleeve.Due to my years spent in the streets I had to learn how to adapt so I learnt how to slide over stuff,making me very flexible.Carefully, without him noticing I lifted my right foot from under him and brought it over his left side,me now rolling over him,in his now surprised state his grip on my hands loosened.I retrieved full control of my wrists so I yanked them off his palms completely.I grabbed each one of his hands and pinned them to his sides,now sitting on top of his waist.

"Shorty has lost finally!" a voice said,Hange.

"Tsk,you win cadet,now get off me."I did exactly as he said.He walked back into the castle after dismissing us.

"Oh my god (F/N)!Captain hasn't lost in hand to hand combat,like never!"Petra walked over to me.

"Really?"woah."Well there's a first for everyone,now let's go to eat I'm fucking starving."

After I showered and changed again,fucking Levi had to choose hand to hand combat the day I showered,I went to the kitchen to eat with the others,everyone was already in there eating.I joined in the conversation with Oluo about how wall Rose has little to no supplies left while eating.It wasn't so bad here after all...

Since Hange was joining us we had to add an other chair,with us moving around I ended up to the captain's left,a bit closer than I would have liked.I looked at Oluo across from me and flashed him small smile.After we finished I joined Hange to their laboratory,them explaining me what happened today,Eren and the others will experiment more in the evening.They asked me if I wanted to join them but I said no,I wanted to relax for the rest of the day,maybe read some more pages of my book.It was about a girl who was helplessly in love with someone she couldn't have,it was more of a diary to be honest.It tugged painfully on the strings of my heart for a reason.

"(F/N) I'm going to need your help in the library once four-eyes is gone."captain said opening the door of my room and I screeched.

"Captain what are you doing?I could have been bare!"who even does that?

"Nothing I haven't seen before now in about an hour I need you in the library, we're going to organise the books in alphabetical order and dust the shelves."I groaned but hid it with a cough.

"Yes captain."he nodded and left,as soon as he did I fell on my bed cursing at him.

It is now almost night,me and Levi have took out all the books off the selves.We are dusting the inside of the selves but I can't quite reach the top.Being 4'11 at eighteen isn't enjoyable,even the military's shorty is taller than you.

"What's wrong?"he asked,he must have saw me struggling to reach the top shelf on my tiptoes.

"It's nothing sir, it's just that I can't reach the top shelf don't worry though I'll just get on top of a chair."shrugging it off I started walking towards the end of the room where a stack of chairs was placed.

"Don't you dare step on a clean chair with your shoes.I'll just lift you."he said gabbing my waist with both hands and placing me on his right shoulder so easily,as if I weighted nothing.God how was he able to do it? Military training,the guy's probably shredded.No don't think about his body right now what the fuck.

"Uh alright,can you go to the left and as I clean move to the right?"I felt his head nod on the outside of my left thigh and I started moving.When I finished I felt the weight under me gone and in a matter of seconds I was on the ground with a big thud.

"What the fuck captain why'd you do that?"I said while getting up.

"Revenge for this morning."he walked off and towards the door.

"Asshole..."I said quietly to myself,or I thought so.

"What did you say?"fuck fuck fuck.

"Nothing sir."I replied my face getting red.

"Look cadet I don't know who you think you are but addressing your superiors like this is unacceptable."his words came off aggressively but his face stayed stone cold.

"Well I'm sorry but what am I supposed to say to someone who won't accept their defeat because they think they're so damn unbeatable?"I snapped and in seconds I was pinned to the wall next to the selves.

"This is the last time I'll go easy on you brat, I'm your captain and I demand respect."venom dripping from his words,his hands tugging hardly on my jaw.

"I only show respect when I know it'll be returned and with all honesty sir you've been quite an asshole to me today." I smirked and I felt a hand slap my cheek,not hard but enough to make me angry.

"What the fuck did you just say?"his eyes burning into mine.

"What the did you just do?"I bit back wiggling my way off his grasp,pushing him down with all my strength.I was on top of him now just like in training this morning.

He reached out to turn me around with his hands but I took them both and locked them behind my back.I knew I'd regret this later,but I was so damn mad.

"Cadet get off me right now and I'm willing to forget what happened today."he said scowling.

"There's no way in hell I'm doing that until you apologize for being an asshole."I replied smugly.He must've not liked that because next thing I knew I was under him,his nose grazing mine.I could feel his laboured breathing on my lips and a thought flashed in my mind.As soon as it did I pushed it away.

"Let me go!"my voice trembled from both fear and fury.His hand had clutched both my wrists in a tight grip,his other hand under my chin tilting it up so I wouldn't miss his eyes.I felt the steely gaze piercing through my (e/c) one.Without thinking I subconsciously looked down on his panting lips and returned my gaze back to his.His eyebrows slightly raised,his eyes now we're traveling down to my panting lips.I knew what was bound to happen any second right now.He slightly shifted, softening his grip on my wrists,his straight nose moved on top of mine,a ghost of a kiss lingered millimeters above my mouth.I closed my eyes waiting for him to lock our lips but that moment never came,on the contrary I heard a sound of steps nearing the door.Captain quickly rose to his feet,pulling me up with him.

"(F/N)! Captain!"Eren exclaimed.He seemed quite disappointed,I wondered if he failed again.

"Jaeger help (L/N) finish organising the books."he ordered and left the room.

Putting the books back in the shelves a realisation came upon me.He wanted to kiss me,and I was to kiss him back.

Dinner approached and everyone was in the kitchen eating except captain.

"Hey Petra do you know where captain is?"Gunther asked and she shrugged.

"He seemed angry so I don't know,he might not want to eat tonight."

"Why would he be angry though?"

"I don't know but (F/N) you were with him right?Did you guys fight?" Eren interrupted and I wanted to throw my spoon at him.We were great friends but he just doesn't know when to shut the fuck up.All eyes on me now.

"Well we did kind of have a disagreement." I said looking at my plate."It's okay I, I'll get him some tea and apologize."they all seemed content with my reply.

The tray wobbled in my hands,I reached his temporary office.Knocking twice I heard a voice behind the door say <<come in>> and so I did.

His gaze didn't falter when I stepped in,walking in a straight line after closing the door,I placed the tray on the desk before him.

"Sir,I would like to apologize for today's incident,I shouldn't have been disrespectful to you and I definitely do not want to be the reason you don't get to enjoy this evening with your comrades."I said and the bastard laughed.He laughed.I've never seen him laugh.That's when I noticed a bottle of dark liquid on the corner of the window behind him.

"Cut the bullshit (F/N) we both know you don't feel sorry for anything that happened today."he said,now I understand,his laugh was a mocking one.I mean he wasn't wrong,I only said that to avoid punishment.He sighed and motioned for me to get to the left side behind the desk so I did.Standing up from his seat,his palm cupped the side of my neck,bringing us closer.He didn't get to do anything else though because I took his face between my hands and pressed our lips together.I sighed into the kiss.He kissed me back,forcefully,teeth grazing my lips.Bevuase of my surprised state of teeth on my lips he took the opportunity to lift me up from my waist,sitting me on top of the desk and slipped his tongue in my mouth.He grunted when my hands left his face and went straight on his hair,running my fingertips over his undercut and tugging at the longer hair on top of it.Humming I slowly tore my lips from his,placing small kissed from his chin to his jaw where I traveled down to his neck,leaving opened mouthed kisses all around until I reached the collar of his shirt.My hands trembled while I unbuttoned the first three buttons off his shirt,moving the collar out of the way I attached my lips on the base of his neck,where it connected with his torso and sucked on the skin,slightly biting it.I was no strangers to lovebites.He sucked in a breathe.

"Fuuuuck." a throaty moan came out of him.I smiled to myself and continued with my work,leaving a few more marks to spots I knew his clothing would cover up.As I pulled away from his torso,I looked up at him.His eyes were full of lust,just like mine.I smiled devilishly at him,kissing him once again.We left the office discreetly and he led me to his room locking the door,pinning me against it.

"After all I don't think you mind discipline."Oh boy.

Streaks of blinding gold twinkled over my eyes the following morning.My face twisted,turning around I let my hand touch the bedding but instead it hooked over a hard surface.Then it hit me.Shit,shit,shit.Last night me...and captain...my eyes widened.Red faced me looked up,captain was sleeping with his hands under my waist.Moments of yesterday's interaction flew through my mind when I heard a groan leave his red lips.His hands tightened around my waist bringing me on top of him.That's when his eyes opened up and found my head in the crook of his neck.The muscles of his stomach tensed up.I rose up using the sheet to cover my chest.

"Uh goodmorning captain?"I said unsure of what to say.He grabbed my nape and forced me on his hard chest once more.

"Shut the fuck up."so he didn't want to talk about yesterday,okay he's saving me the embarrassment.His fingers combed through my hair and I hummed kissing the surface of his chest.He tilted my head up by my hair,I felt something harden against my thigh.Morning sex?Count me in.

When I was about to make a move someone knocked on captain's door.Panicking I pulled away and covered myself in the sheets leaving him naked.

"Captain it's almost nine in the morning,how come you haven't gotten up yet?"Petra.

"I have a headache Petra,I'll come down once the painkiller (L/N) gave me starts working."he replied.

"Oh,I'm sorry to hear that sir.I'll go and make you some tea."her steps became less and less loud until they were completely gone.

I covered him with the sheets and started putting on my clothes.After everything was on I turned to the captain.

"I better get going,see you later captain."I smiled and he nodded.Opening the door and making sure no one was around I returned to my room.Now what the fuck was all this?

[dreamer-of-gold]

a complete list of final words that make me feel something

— “All compounded things are subject to vanish. Strive with earnestness.”  (”वयधम्मा सङखार्आ अप्पमादेन सम्पादेथा”). Buddha.

— “Heaven has turned against me. No wise ruler arises, and no one in the Empire wishes to make me his teacher. The hour of my death has come.” Confucius. 479 BCE. 

— “For, no Athenian, through my means, ever wore mourning.” Pericles, discussing what he felt was his greatest accomplishment, 429 BCE.

— “To the strongest.” ("τῷ κρατίστῳ"). Alexander the Great, explaining who his empire should go to. 323 BCE.

— “Stand away, fellow, from my diagram!”. Archimedes, to the soldier who interrupted his work, and killed him. 212 BCE.

— “You too, my child?” (”καὶ σὺ, τέκνον"). Julius Caesar, to his stepson Brutus. 44 BCE.

— “There is nothing proper about what you are doing, soldier, but do try to kill me properly.” ("Nihil propriis quid facis, latro, autem non tentant recte ut interficias me”). Cicero, facing his assassin. 43 BCE.

— “Have I played the part well? Then applaud as I exit.” Augustus Caesar. 14 CE.

— “It is finished.” Jesus Christ. circa 30.

— “Woe, I think I’m turning into a God... An emperor should die on his feet.”  ("Vae, puto, deus fio... imperatorem stantem oportet mori.") Vespasian, referring to the Roman tradition of deifying their emperors. 79.

— “I have made but one mistake.” Titus. 81.

— “I am making my last effort to return that which is divine in me to that which is divine in the Universe.” Plotinus. 270.

— “Oh God, the Friend Most High!” Muhammad. 632.

— “I have loved justice and hated iniquity; therefore I die in exile.” ("Dilexi iustitiam et odivi iniquitatem propterea morior in exilio.") Pope Gregory VII. 1085.

— “For the name of Jesus and the protection of the church I am ready to embrace death.” Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury when speaking to his murderers. 1170.

— “I have not told half of what I saw.” ("Non ho detto metà di quello che ho visto.") Marco Polo. 1324.

— “O, holy simplicity!” Jan Hus. 1415.

— “Hold the cross high so I may see it through the flames!” Joan of Arc. 1431.

— “I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality I should have.”  ("Ho offeso Dio e l'umanità perché il mio lavoro non ha raggiunto la qualità che dovrebbe avere.") Leonardo da Vinci. 1519.

— “Happy.” Raphael. 1520.

— “I am curious to see what happens in the next world to one who dies unshriven.” Pietro Perugino. 1523.

— “Mine eyes desire thee only. Farewell.” Catherine of Aragorn in her final letter, addressed to her former husband. 1536.

— “The king has been good to me. He promoted me from a simple maid to a marchioness. Then he raised me to a be a queen. Now he will raise me to be a martyr. Oh God, have pity on my soul. Oh God, have pity on my soul.” Anne Boleyn. 1536.

— “We are beggars, this is true.” ("Wir sind Bettler, Hoc est Verum.") Martin Luther. 1546.

— “I owe much; I have nothing; the rest I leave to the poor.” François Rabelais. 1553.

— “I’m still learning.” (“Ancora imparo.”) Michelangelo. 1564.

— “You pronounce sentence upon me with greater fear than I receive it.” Giordano Bruno, before he was executed for holding beliefs against the Catholic faith. 1600.

— “May I not seem to have lived in vain.”  ("Ne frustra vixisse videar.") Tycho Brahe. 1601.

— “All my possesions for a moment of time.” Queen Elizabeth I. 1603.

— “Doest thou think that I am afraid of it? This is that that will cure all sorrows.” Sir Walter Raleigh, commenting on the axe that would execute him for acting against the monarchy. 1618.

— “I have the consolation of leaving your kingdom in the highest degree of honour and reputation.” Cardinal Richelieu, in his final letter addressed to King Louis XIII. 1642.

— “I shall have to ask leave to desist, when I am interrupted by so great an experiment as dying.” William Davenant, as he putting aside his unfinished final poem. 1668.

— “A great leap in the dark.” Thomas Hobbes. 1679.

— “Take me, for I come to Thee.” John Bunyan. 1688.

— "I am about to—or I am going to—die; either expression is correct." ("Je vais ou je vas mourir, l'un et l'autre se dit ou se disent.") Dominique Bouhours. 1702.

— “Why are you weeping? Did you imagine that I was immortal?” King Louis XIV. 1715.

— “Don’t be afraid.” ("Var intet rädd.") King Charles XII of Sweden, assuring his troops shortly before he was killed in action. 1718.

— "I don’t know what I may seem to the world. But as to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore and diverting myself now and then in finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than the ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me." Isaac Newton. 1727.

— “Is this dying? Is this all? Is this what I feared when I prayed against a hard death? Oh, I can bear this! I can bear this!” Cotton Mather. 1728.

— “It is high time for me to depart, for at my age I now begin to see things as they really are.” Bernard de Fontenelle. 1757.

— “It has all been most interesting.” Mary Wortley Montagu. 1762.

— “No, it is not.” Oliver Goldsmith, upon being asked “Is your mind at ease?”. 1774.

— “Now is not the time for making new enemies.” Voltaire, when asked to renounce Satan. 1778. 

— “I pray for you to bear me witness that I meet my fate like a brave man.” John André, right before being hung for being a spy. 1780.

— “Waiting, are they? Well - let ‘em wait.” Ethan Allen, responding to a doctor who told him angels were waiting for him. 1789.

— “A dying man can do nothing easy.” Benjamin Franklin. 1790.

— “The taste of death is upon my lips... I fell something, that is not of this word.” Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. 1791.

— “Oh Liberty, what crimes are committed in thy names!” (”O Liberté, que de crimes on commet en ton nom!”) Madame Roland. 1793.

— “Yes my friend, but it’s from the cold.” (”Oui mon ami, mais c’est de froid.”) Jean Sylvain Bailly, responding to a heckler who asked if he was shaking on his way to the guillotine. 1793.

— “’Tis well. I die hard, but am not afraid to go.” George Washington. 1799.

— “Remember that I leave Lady Hamilton and my daughter, Horatia, as a legacy to my country – and never forget Horatia.” Horatio Nelson, speaking of his wife and daughter after being wounded in battle. 1805.

— “I die happy.” Charles James Fox. 1806.

— “I am all yours.” (”Je suis toute à vous.”) Adrienne de La Fayette. 1807.

— “Cheer up, children, I am all right.” Franz Joseph Haydn. 1809.

— “I am not a coward, but I am so strong. It is hard to die.” Meriwether Lewis. 1809.

— “I want nothing but death.” Jane Austen, in response to her sister asking if she wanted anything. 1817.

— “Let’s go, this will be for the last time.” Sophie Blanchard, as she lit fireworks from her hot air balloon, something she was known to do.

— “Nostitz, you have learned many a thing from me. Now you will learn how peacefully a man can die.” Gebhard Leberecht von Blüche, speaking to his aide-de-camp. 1819.

— “I am mortally wounded... I think.” Stephen Decatur. 1820.

— “I’m going now. My time has come.” Daniel Boone. 1820.

—  “France, the army, the head of the army, Joséphine...” ("France, armée, tête d'armée, Joséphine...") Napoleon Bonaparte. 1821.

— “I leave something dear to the world.” (”Lo lascio qualque cosa di car nel Mondo.”) Lord Byron. 1824.

— “Pity, pity - too late!” Ludwig van Beethoven, upon learning that his publisher had gifted him several bottles of wine. 1827. 

— “Well, I’ve had a happy life.” William Hazlitt. 1830. 

— “How do I get out of this labyrinth!” Simón Bolívar. 1830.

— “I regret that I should leave this world without again beholding him.” James Monroe, referring to James Madison. 1831.

— “Only you have ever understood me... and you got it wrong.” (”Immer nur du hast mich verstanden... und sie haben es falsch.”) Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, in his last conversation with his favourite student. 1831.

— “My mind is quite unclouded. I could even be witty.” Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 1834.

— “Nothing more than a change of mind, my dear.” James Madison, responding to his niece who asked him what the matter was. 1836.

— “Thank you - but don’t kiss me; it is the sweat of death. I am dying, and it’s for the best.” John Field to his friend. 1837.

— “Try to be forgotten. Go live in the country. Stay in mourning for two years, then remarry, but choose somebody decent.” Alexander Pushkin, speaking to his wife after being wounded in a duel with her rumoured lover. 1837.

— "I hope to meet each of you in heaven. Be good, children, all of you, and strive to be ready when the change comes." Andrew Jackson. 1845.

— “Peace! Joy!” Henry Francis Lyte. 1847.

— “This is the last of Earth. I am content.” John Quincy Adams. 1848.

— “In all my past life I have done nothing either great or good.” Branwell Brontë. 1848.

— “If you will send for a doctor I will see him now.” Emily Brontë. 1848.

— “Take courage, Charlotte; take courage.” Anne Brontë, speaking to her sister. 1849.

— “I love you, Sarah. For all eternity, I love you.” James K. Polk, to his wife. 1849.

— “Lord, help my poor soul.” Edgar Allan Poe, quoting one of his poems. 1849. 

— “Play Mozart in memory of me - and I will hear you.” (”Jouez Mozart mémoire de moi et je vais vous entendre.") Frédéric Chopin. 1849.

— “I regret nothing, but I am sorry to leave my friends.” Zachary Taylor. 1850.

— “I still live.” Daniel Webster. 1852.

— “If I am in danger, tell me; do not deceive me.” (”Se tenho perigo, diga-mo; não me engane.") Maria II of Portugal, speaking to her surgeon during the birth of her 11th child. 1853.

— “I fear we are in a mess.” George Cathcart, shortly before his death during the Battle of Inkerman. 1854.

— "I no longer see you." ("Eu já o não vejo.") Almeida Garrett, speaking to his friend. 1854.

— “Oh, I am not going to die, am I? He will not separate us. We have been so happy.” Charlotte Brontë, who was speaking to her husband. 1855.

— “Do not kill me! I did not come to fight you!” Andrew Bolon, right before his through was cut by a member of the Yakama. 1855.

— “God will pardon me. That’s his line of work.” (”Dieu me pardonnera. C’est son métier.”) Heinrich Heine. 1856.

— “What an irreparable loss!” Auguste Comte. 1857. 

— “Comfort my Peter.” (”Consolem o meu Pedro.”) Stephanie of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, speaking of her husband. 1859. 

—  “I, John Brown, am now quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away but with blood. I had, as I now think, vainly flattered myself that without very much bloodshed it might be done.” John Brown, speaking of ending slavery. 1859.

— “No noise, no music, no Bohemia!” Henri Murger. 1861.

— “It is most beautiful.” Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 1861. 

— “Perhaps it is best.” John Tyler. 1862. 

— “I did not know that we had ever quarreled.” Henry David Thoreau, upon being asked to make his peace with God. 1862. 

— “Congestion. Stopped.” Joseph Henry Green, measuring his breathing and then his pulse. 1863.

— “Lay me down, and save the flag!” James A. Mulligan, who was wounded in battle. 1864.

— “She won’t think anything about it.” Abraham Lincoln, telling his wife that their friend would not mind them holding hands shortly before he was shot. 1865.

— “Ah, Luisa, you always arrive just as I am leaving.” Massimo d’Azeglio, speaking to his estranged wife. 1866. 

— “Whatever the result may be, I shall carry to my grave the consciousness that at least I meant well for my country.” James Buchanan. 1868.

— “I die for my homeland.” (”Muero por mi patria.”) Francisco Solano López. 1870.

— “Oh, do not cry. Be good children, and we shall meet in Heaven.” Andrew Johnson. 1875.

— “Farewell, the martyrdom is no more!” ("Adeus, acabou o martírio!") Inocêncio Francisco da Silva. 1876.

— “I am not the least afraid to die.” Charles Darwin. 1882. 

— “Go on, get out! Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough!” ("Hinaus! Letzte Worte sind für Narren, die noch nicht genug gesagt haben!") Karl Marx. 1883.

— “This is the fight of day and night. I see black light.” (”En moi c’est le combat du jour et de la nuit.”) Victor Hugo. 1885.

— “I must go in, for the fog is rising.” Emily Dickinson. 1886. 

— “Now comes the mystery.” Henry Ward Beecher. 1887. 

— “I haven’t got time to be tired.” Wilhelm I. 1888.

— “A little while and I will be gone from among you. Whither I cannot tell. From nowhere we came, into nowhere we go. What is life? It is a flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.” Crowfoot. 1890.

— “The sadness will last forever.” Vincent van Gogh. 1890.

— “I am not going. Do with me what you like. I am not going. Come on! Come on! Take action! Let’s go!” Sitting Bull, yelled while trying to be taken from his home. 1890.

— “May God grant me these last wishes - peace and prosperity for Brazil.” Pedro II of Brazil. 1891. 

— “I know I am going where Lucy is.” Rutherford B. Hayes, referring to his wife, who had died in 1889. 1893. 

— “I am imploring you - burn all the indecent poems and drawings.” Aubrey Beardlsey. 1898.

—  “Keep up the fire, men.” Emerson H. Liscum. 1900.

— “My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go.” Oscar Wilde. 1900.

— “Bertie.” Queen Victoria, calling to her son. 1901.

— “Goodbye, all, goodbye. It is God’s way. His will be done.” William McKinley. 1901.

— “So little done, so much to do.” Cecil Rhodes. 1902.

— “It’s a long time since I drank champagne...” ("Давно я не пил шампанского...") Anton Chekhov. 1904.

— “In spite of it all, I am going to sleep; put out the lights.” Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 1907.

— “I have tried so hard to do right.” Grover Cleveland. 1908. 

— “Pull up the shades; I don’t want to go home in the dark.” O. Henry. 1910.

— “Here I go.” Cromwell Dixon, said just before his biplane crashed. 1911.

— “One last drink, please.” Jack Daniel. 1911.

— “I am just going outside and may be some time.” Lawrence Oates, an explorer who walked out of his tent and into a blizzard. 1912.

— “Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale.” Robert Falcon Scott in a final message to the public. His party was found frozen in Antartica. 1912.

— “The ladies have to go first... Get in the lifeboat, to please me... Goodbye, dearie. I’ll see you later.” John Jacob Astor IV, pleading with his pregnant wife to board a lifeboat as the Titanic sank. 1912.

— “Well boys, do your best for the women and children, and look out for yourselves.” Edward Smith, captain of the Titanic, giving orders before he went down with his ship. 1912.

— “Swing low, sweet chariot.” Harriet Tubman. 1913. 

— “It is nothing... it is nothing...” (”Es ist gar nichts... es ist gar nichts...”) Archduke Franz Ferdinand, after being fatally shot in an event that would start WWI. 1914.

— “Hullo.” Rupert Brooke, to his friend who came to visit him. 1915.

— “Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone.” Edith Cavell, a British nurse to the Anglican Chaplain who visited her the night before her execution by German forces. 1915.

— “Why fear death? Death is only a beautiful adventure.” Charles Frohman, quoting Peter Pan as the Lusitania sunk. 1915.

— “There does not seem to be anything to do.” Alice Moore Hubbard, to her husband as the Lusitania sunk. 1915.

— “It is unbelievable!” Mata Hari. 1917.

— “Goodbye, until Heaven!” ("Adeus, até ao Céu!") Saint Francisco Marto, to his cousin. 1919.

— “Now we can cross the Shifting Sands.” L. Frank Baum, referring to a place in Oz. 1919. 

— “Never mind, it is good to die for our country.”  ("אין דבר, טוב למות בעד ארצנו") Joseph Trumpeldor. 1920.

— “I’m all right; tell Mays not to worry... ring... Katie’s ring.” Ray Chapman, referring to Mays, the pitcher who threw the ball that accidentally killed him and his wedding band. 1920. 

— “Some day, when things look real tough for Notre Dame, ask the boys to go out there and win one for Gipper.” George Gipp, to his football coach as he was dying of pneumonia. 1920.

— In sign language, “No.” Alexander Graham Bell, responding to his deaf wife who signed, “Don’t leave me.” 1922.

— “Don’t let it end like this. Tell them I said something...” Pancho Villa, to his friend after he was shot. 1923. 

— “I thought this was the most beautiful spot in the world, and now I know it.” W.P. Ker, who was on the Pizzo Bianco when he suffered a fatal heart attack. 1923. 

— “That’s good. Go on, read some more.” Warren G. Harding, to his wife who was reading a positive article about him. 1923.

— “Good dog.” (”Vot sobaka.”) Vladimir Lenin, speaking to his dog who had brought him a dead bird. 1924.

— “You’re too slow... too slow.” Floyd Collins, speaking to rescuers who were trying to free him from the cave he had become trapped in. 1925.

— “Goodbye, my friend, goodbye / My dear friend, you are in my heart / Predestined separation promises a future meeting.” Sergei Yesenin, in his suicide note.1925.

— “I don’t feel good.” Luther Burbank. 1926. 

— “Farewell, my friends. I go to glory!” (”Adieu, mes amis. Je vais à la gloire!”) Isadora Duncan. 1927.

— “Get my Swan costume ready.” Anna Pavlova. 1931.

— “Everything’s gone wrong, my girl.” Arnold Bennett, to his mistress. 1931.

— “So long... Goodbye...” (Wiedersehen... Gruss...”) Paul Anlauf. 1931.

— “It’s very beautiful over there.” Thomas Edison. 1931. 

— “Curtain! Fast music! Lights! Ready for the last finale! Great! The show looks good. The show looks good.” Florenz Ziegfeld Jr. 1932.

— “If this is dying, I don’t think much of it.” Lytton Strachey. 1932.

— “So the beginning of the eighth day has dawned. It is still cool. I have no water... I am waiting patiently. Come soon please. Fever wracked me last night. Hope you get my full log. Bill.” Bill Lancaster, in his final journal log after his plane crashed in the Sahara Desert. 1933.

— “When I am dead, and over me bright April Shakes out her rain drenched hair, Tho you should lean above me broken hearted, I shall not care. For I shall have peace. As leafey trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough. And I shall be more silent and cold hearted than you are now.” Sara Teasdale, in her suicide note. 1933.

— “I’m glad it was me and not you, Mr. President.” Anton Cermak, who was shot instead of Franklin Roosevelt. 1933. 

— “I don’t want it.” (”Je ne le veux pas.”) Marie Curie, who was rejecting an injection of painkiller. 1934. 

— “When all usefulness is over, when one is assured of an unavoidable and imminent death, it is simplest of human rights to choose a quick and easy death in place of a slow and horrible one.” Charlotte Perkins Gilman, in her suicide note. 1935. 

— “Indeed - very good. I shall - have to repeat that - on the Golden Floor.” A.E. Housman, laughing at a joke his doctor had told him. 1936.

— “All fled, all done, so lift me on the pyre; The feast is over and the lamps expire.” Robert E. Howard, quoting “The House of Caeser” in his suicide note. 1936.

— “I can do no more.” (”Ich kann nicht mehr.”) Toni Kurz, who died just before reaching a team come to rescue him. 1936. 

— “I can’t sleep.” J.M. Barrie. 1937. 

— “I’m bored. I’m bored.” Gabriele D’Annunzio. 1938. 

— “I was going too fast for the conditions - it was entirely my own fault - I am sorry.” Richard Seaman, racecar driver who was fatally injured during a race. 1939.

— “Does nobody understand?” James Joyce. 1941. 

— “I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.” Virginia Woolf, addressing her husband in her suicide note. 1941.

— “Put an end, Lord, to all our sufferings.” (”Setzen sie ein ende, o Gott, für alle unsere leiden.”) Elisabeth von Thadden, right before she was executed by the Nazis. 1944.

— “The happy-go-lucky Anne laughs, gives a flippant reply, shrugs her shoulders and pretends she doesn’t give a darn. The quiet Anne reacts in just the opposite way. If I’m being completely honest, I’ll have to admit that it does matter to me, that I’m trying very hard to change myself, but that I'm always up against a more powerful enemy.” Anne Frank, discussing in her final journal entry how she feels split in tow. 1945.

— “What I done, I did in self-defense, or I would have been killed myself. Where I was I could not overcome it. God has forgiven me. I have nothing against anyone. I picked cotton for Mr. Pritchett, and he has been good to me. I am ready to go. I am one in the number. I am ready to meet my God. I have a very strong conscience.” Lena Baker, an African-American maid who was convicted and executed for killing her employer. 1945.

— “What is the answer? In that case, what is the question?” Gertrude Stein. 1946. 

— “Go away. I’m all right.” H.G. Wells. 1946. 

— “You can keep the things of bronze and stone and give me one man to remember me just once a year.” Damon Runyon. 1946. 

— “I’m going over the valley.” Babe Ruth. 1948.

— “Frenzy hath seized thy dearest son, / Who from thy shores in glory came / The first in valor and in fame; / Thy deeds that he hath done / Seem hostile all to hostile eyes... / Better to die, and sleep / The never waking sleep, than linger on, / And dare to live, when the soul’s life is gone.” James Forrestal, quoting “Ajax” in his suicide note. 1949.

— “This is it! I’m going. I’m going.” Al Jolson. 1950. 

— “Say goodbye to my wife and kids.” Ray Wetmore, said as his plane crashed. 1951.

— “I hope the exit is joyful and hope never to come back.” Frida Kahlo. 1954.

— “I hope it won’t take long.” Enrico Fermi, said 10 days before he died of cancer. 1954. 

— “I want to go when I want. It is tasteless to prolong life artificially. I have done my share, it is time to go. I will do it elegantly.” Albert Einstein, who was declining surgery. 1955.

— “I’m glad to sit on the back row, for I would rather be a servant in the House of the Lord than to sit in the seats of the might.” Alben W. Barkley, referencing the bible just before dying of a heart attack during a keynote address. 1956. 

— “No. Thanks for everything.” Max Beerbohm, responding to the question of if he’d had a good sleep. 1956. 

— “Goodbye, kid. Hurry back.” Humphrey Bogart, speaking to Lauren Bacall as she left to get their children. 1957. 

— “Were a midair collision - midair collision. How we are going in - uncontrollable - uncontrollable - we are... we’ve had it boy - poor jet too - told you we should take chutes - say goodbye to everybody.” Archie R. Twitchell, said shortly before a midair collision. 1957.

— “Beautifully done.” Stanley Spencer, to the nurse who injected him. 1959. 

— “Is everybody happy? I want everybody to be happy. I know I’m happy.” Ethel Barrymore, to her maid. 1959. 

— “Dying is easy. Comedy is difficult.” Edmund Gwenn. 1959. 

— “I’ve had a hell of a lot of fun and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.” Errol Flynn. 1959. 

— “Oh God, here I go.” Max Baer. 1959.

— “He is safe! He is safe! Oh, joy!” (”È salvo! È salvo! Oh, gioia!”) Leonard Warren, an opera singer who was in the middle of a performance when he died onstage. 1960.

— “I am so bored.” St John Philby. 1960.

— “Too much pain... Do something, please... to kill the pain.” Valentin Bondarenko, a cosmonaut fatally injured in a chamber fire. 1961. 

— “Goodnight my kitten.” Ernest Hemingway. 1961. 

— “Remember, honey, don’t forget what I told you. Put in my coffin a deck of cards, a mashie niblick, and a pretty blonde.” Chico Marx, telling his wife a final joke. 1961.

— “I’m going to stop now, but I’m going to sharpen the ax before I put it up, dear.” E.E. Cummings, assuring his wife that it wouldn’t be too hot to chop wood. He suffered a stroke soon after. 1962.

— “Don’t cry! This is a moment of joy, a moment of glory.” (”Non piangere! È un momentio di gioia questio, un momento di gloria.”) Pope John XXIII, speaking to his secretary. 1963.

— “I am sorry to trouble you chaps. I don’t know how you get along so fast with the traffic on the roads these days.” Ian Fleming, to the ambulance drivers who came to help him. 1964.

— “I’m bored with it all.” Winston Churchill. 1965. 

— “Brothers! Brothers, please! This is a house of peace!” Malcolm X, trying to calm people down before he was murdered. 1965. 

— “Dying is a very dull, dreary affair. And my advice to you is to have nothing whatever to do with it.” Somerset Maugham, speaking to his nephew. 1965. 

— “Why can’t I give up at last?” Buster Keaton. 1966.

— “I know you are here to kill me. Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man.” ("Sé que estás aquí para matarme. Dispara, cobarde, solo vas a matar a un hombre.") Che Guevara, to the people who were to kill him. 1967.

— “Ben, make sure you play ‘Take My Hand, Precious Lord’ in the meeting tonight. Play it real pretty.” Martin Luther King Jr., speaking to the musician who was to play at the meeting. 1968.

— “Is everybody alright?” Robert F. Kennedy, after being shot. 1968.

— “Human life is limited; but I would like to live forever.” Yukio Mishima. 1970.

— “Good night my darlings. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Noël Coward. 1973.

— “Drink to me.” Pablo Picasso. 1973.

— “A certain butterfly is already on the wing.” Vladimir Nabokov. 1977.

— “Die, my dear? Why, that’s the last thing I’ll do!” Groucho Marx. 1977.

— “I hope I haven’t bored you.” Elvis Presley, in his last public appearance. 1977.

— “Why not? After all, it belongs to him.” Charlie Chaplin, responding to a priest who said “May the Lord have mercy on your soul”. 1977. 

— “Of course I know who you are. You’re my girl. I love you.” John Wayne, responding to his wife. 1979.

— “Are you guys okay?” Thurman Munson, asking a question to passengers who had been in a plane crash with him. 1979.

— “One never knows the ending. One has to die to know exactly what happens after death, although Catholics have their hopes.” Alfred Hitchcock. 1980.

— “Money can’t buy life.” Bob Marley. 1981. 

— “Everybody has got to die, but I have always believed an exception would be made in my case. Now What?” William Saroyan, in a final message to the Associated Press. 1981.

— “Just don’t leave me alone.” John Belushi. 1982.

— “I am going.” Sobhuza II, shortly after a meeting. 1982.

— “It’s all been rather lovely.” John le Mesurier. 1983.

— “What I cannot create, I do not understand.” Richard Feynman, written upon his chalkboard. 1983.

— “You know, I’m not frightened. It’s just that I will miss you all so much.” Roald Dahl, who was then injected with morphine, making his last words officially “Ow!”. 1990.

— “Will it be an interesting experience? Will I find out what lies beyond the barrier? Why does it take so long to come?” Graham Greene. 1991.

— “Don’t worry. Relax.” Rajiv Gandhi, said to a policewoman shortly before he was assassinated. 1991.

— “Thank you.” Freddie Mercury. 1991.

— “You only live so long.” Richard Versalle, performing during an opera shortly before dying on stage. 1996.

— “I love you. Sleep well, my sweetheart. Please don’t worry too much.” Rob Hall, speaking to his wife before he died on Mount Everest. 1996. 

— “My God, what’s happened?” Princess Diana. 1997. 

— “Please don’t leave me.” Chris Farley, to the prostitute who was leaving his motel room. 1997.

— “I’m losing it.” Frank Sinatra. 1998.

— “I’ll finally get to see Marilyn.” Joe DiMaggio, referring to his estranged late wife, Marilyn Monroe. 1999.

— “Surprise me.” Bob Hope, whose wife had asked him where he wanted to be buried. 2003. 

— “Jeb. Just remember, whatever happens, happens.” Dwain Weston, to another skydiver before a fatal accident. 2003.

— “Let me go to the house of the Father.” (”Pozwólcie mi iść do domu Ojca.") Pope John Paul II. 2005.

— “I’m dying.” Steve Irwin. 2006. 

— “Lucy.” Augusto Pinochet, calling to his wife. 2006. 

— “I’m going away tonight.” James Brown, said to his manager before he died in his sleep. 2006. 

— “And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say: ‘Kurt is up in heaven now’. That’s my favourite joke.” Kurt Vonnegut. 2007.

— “I’m the happiest man in the world. I’ve just summitted a beautiful mountain.” Clifton Maloney, who later died on Cho Oyu. 2009.

— “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP” Leonard Nimoy, telling his fans to live long and prosper in a final tweet. 2015.

— “Music has been my doorway of perception and the house that I live in.” David Bowie, speaking of music. 2016.

— “I want to be with Carrie.” Debbie Reynolds, speaking of her daughter, who had died the day before. 2016.

— “God bless. Take care of my boy, Roy.” Stan Lee, speaking of Spider-Man. 2018.

— “A full, intense and profound greeting to my children Marco, Alessandra, Andrea, Giovanni, my daughter-in-law Monica, and to my grandchildren Francesca, Valentina, Francesco and Luca. I hope they understand how much I loved them. Last but not least, Maria. I renew to you the extraordinary love that has held us together and that I am sorry to abandon. The most painful farewell to you." Ennio Morricone, writing a final letter to his family. 2020.

— “People deserve abundant life, special moments. They’ve been through hell battling disease. If we were able to ease their suffering and bring joy for a moment, and hopefully moments as he goes through the bags, then we made a difference in his life.” Chadwick Boseman, sending a final text about visiting a fan through Make-A-Wish. 2020.

“My most fervent wish is that I will not be replaced until a new president is installed.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg. 2020.

[viterwrites]

An Equal Conversation (P: Bonds)

Whumptober Day 1.

“—am I to do with him? Don’t you have better-suited people for the job, Ir-?”

“The Lady for you. And yes, we do, but why should we aid you more?”

“To start with, he’s—”  

“Yes, yes, and the other tales we have passed down to you. The prodigy is your problem and your responsibility. Had it not been for your staggering incompetence, Paljot—and the whole of Quintera—would have been ours months, if not years ago. Hereby, you are to fix it, in the name of your late father, in the name of your fallen realm, and in the name of our Deity. Perhaps, not for yourself, for there is nothing that can redeem such a miserable human being, but you still might live a good life under Their rule.”

“You-”

“Are the sole reason you are still alive? Are your only hope, your single chance as of right now? Could execute you at any moment or give you away to the enemy for a momentary respite?”

“Hr-”

“Have we made ourselves clear? I believe we have, and you should believe so as well, as we do not fancy repeating ourselves. Bring him back under Their wing. By whatever means necessary. The method used at the end is irrelevant. If you do fail, however, you will replace him in the defence of our city. Oh, you would do a poor job.”

***

His hearing slowly returned, along with his consciousness. Gods, where was he?.. There was only darkness in sight—or his was lost—and no space to move. Restrained. He wasn’t getting up either way. The binds weren’t even the worst problem — it’s the way his whole body felt. Like it had rotten from inside out and frozen afterwards. 

The location was concerning too.

It was painful even remembering, as every thought seemed to draw more life out of his near-dead body. Riena. The army had stopped to celebrate the victory of the previous day, he, as usual, refrained from partaking in the festivities and stayed behind. And the servants brought him food… Soon after it went black. And hadn’t gone white to this time.

It didn’t take much time for him to realise what had happened. Poison.

At that moment, the door opened, letting the torchlight inside. Still hard, but he could now see just where he found himself in: a tiny cell, just enough space for two people to be in—and only in front of each other. Near-naked on cold stone. And a stretching shadow in front. 

With all the frail might he had left, he raised his chin and shot a glare towards the person in front. A glare soon-to-be followed by shock. And rage, weak as he was.

“Fjall Arveg, head of the Okel Village garrison. Bow to your Baron. Or is it that you have forgotten the Code while in service of the enemy? Please, do let me know, so that your offence may be treated accordingly.” 

The other could only chuckle. “The code states I must do a salute, but that seems out of the question right now, doesn’t it?” he tug his arms, feeling the rope retaliate. Then some more, and more, to the extent of where it burned. 

Pain helped him focus in such times. Always had, for better or worse.

The Baron’s gaze shortly narrowed, then relaxed. “We have got off on the wrong foot, it appears. Still, I am your superior, is it not right for me to be treated as one?”

“I have pledged loyalty to the Earl of Tertiara.”

“I was nowhere to be found, yes? It was rational of you to assume I had deceased and thus represent the people of Vardil in the new leader’s forces, but as you can see, I am still here in the Alliance, in flesh and blood, for they were so kind as to provide me with a residence, while I cannot return to my own. And you are obliged to help me do so, as a loyal soldier of your Barony, are you not?”

‘Avardil prepared well for this,’ Fjall thought. His words were true as well: the pledge he had made to the Baron was before all others by time and so, by priority. Yet he was no longer willing to uphold it.

“I am loyal to the Earl of Tertiara, Araien of House Paljot. I believe she represents the interests of Vardil as well as of her homeland, of Gret as much as well as of her ancestral home. My loyalty was pledged to the Barony first and foremost, of which Lord Avardil will no longer hold the control,” that caused a frown to appear on the Baron’s face. A frown and a scowl.

“Is that so? Please, do reconsider your options. Perhaps what I shall tell you next can change your mind,” he turned to the door and called for someone down the corridor. “Lord Halliste.”

The towering figure of the man who entered next was not one unfamiliar to Fjall. In fact, it was one he had engaged just the day before— no. perhaps, it was longer, but it was doubtlessly the man whose swordsmanship he couldn’t best in Riena. In truth, he would have been slain by him, had a superior not called this monster of a combatant back. 

Halliste—lord, commander, whoever he was—seemed as intimidating as in the first time their paths crossed: just like he seemed back at the western shoreline. He approached with a chair that Avardil happily sat down into, now looking at the restrained warrior from above. Halliste himself stayed right behind his back, looking down on Fjall from all his height, nearly reaching the ceiling. 

Regardless, it was clear that Avardil was bursting at the seams with information and the desire to lay it all out. Fjall prepared to listen, think and talk. These were the only three weapons he had left, ones he had never excelled at, yet the only ones that could be of any use now.

“I shall start by saying that you should not even hope to escape from here. Neither should you hope for a rescue,” the drasticity of a tone change didn’t go unnoticed, but he couldn’t show it outwardly. “If you have put two and two together, you know you are in the most secure place in Strell, one only the Lady of the Seas and her closest know of. It is nowhere to be found in the documents, the ones who were partial to its creation are nowhere to be found as well,” the Baron’s lips curled into a crooked smile. “This is no prison. You are in her secret headquarters, in the most secret of all cells there are in Quintera. None know where you are.”

A pause, as Avardil wanted Fjall to mull over these words. In the other’s turn… it wasn’t the first time no help was on the way, but it was the first time he was truly alone. In this cell, definitely underground, with not a soul to meet, except for his former ‘employer’ and his loyal dog. Although, that last fact was much less of a certainty than anything else. 

Halliste had not said a word in this conversation. As time went on it became more and more obvious he wasn’t there to speak or even intimidate, just to oversee. Not Fjall, either, although he was the centerpoint of the knight’s gaze. To oversee the Baron.

‘The closest are also on the closest leash, aren’t they?’

“Secondly, you could have gathered it on your own, but what happened in Riena was a stroke of luck. You are no match for Sir Halliste,” he paused tilting his head back towards the knight, “and the Alliance has a number of soldiers of his caliber. Are you not the strongest one in the Tertiara force?” The Baron wasn’t looking for an answer. “Then imagine what could happen, if all of them were released at once against your compatriots. And what will happen as they approach the capital. The Lady has no interest in letting the enemy step into her domain’s heart, so they will be stopped.” 

“And they die either way. What’s the point of passing it down to me?” without doubt, had they not wanted him alive, he would not have survived the celebration.

The Baron smiled. In the worst way imaginable.

“They don’t. Naive of you to assume death is what awaits them. It is salvation, not punishment,” The grin stretched wider. “People as important as them can’t simply die. No, they will have to pay for the inconvenience they caused us. And so will you,” his eyes locked onto Fjall. “Unless you agree to our terms.”

“Which are?”

“You fight for the Alliance. And take Her Earlshipness down. Perhaps with her falconer. Or perhaps leave him to mourn.”

“Them to mourn. Wait,” he exhaled sharply as the words sunk in. 

For himself to be the one to take down Araien and Io… Not long ago, the one purpose he has in life. Now, a terrifying prospect.

“And why me? Do you not have Halliste or other knights, all, as you claim, better swordsmen than myself?” even that sarcastic tone couldn’t draw out a reaction from the onlooker. Hm.

“I do not have to explain myself to my inferior. And you are not to question me, should you agree.”

“And if I don’t?” the same grin sprung up where it had been before. 

“I have not finished.”

Not once had Fjall heard of the Baron being as talkative as he was with him. Most of his words were threats, but at home that was not his responsibility: he had a wide enough network of ‘social workers’ to take care of that for him. Now he could see who they were taught by, if the rumours were correct.

“Araien. The poor young girl who prematurely lost her father. A formidable leader, he was and a formidable foe to me in the war—but even he could not stop the might of the Alliance combined with ours.” 

‘Didn’t he claim Vardil had won on its own? Another lie we were spoonfed, it seems,’ it was odd how his mind seemed to be sharper than it had ever been in this situation and this state. But the Baron continued talking.

 “How sad of him to pass away so suddenly, leaving his daughter grieving and ill-prepared to lead her house. Some called it a lucky coincidence, some believed it to be too lucky. And some,” the Baron half-bowed in a theatrical manner, “simply knew the truth. There are many things growing in the jungle around your village. Some can knock you out cold, some can assure you never get up again,” he paused letting Fjall swallow the words. In his turn, he was baffled at how blatantly, how openly Avardil admitted his guilt. And that was, without doubt, one of the many people he murdered.

Then something else occurred to him. Okel had never been known for making poison, but it was known for its herbs and the traders visited mainly for those, and those came from the jungle. “Precisely,” the Baron spoke up and Fjall’s attention shifted back to him. “You, as the head of the village garrison, the one who guarded all of those things, are also responsible for the death of Tolvi I of Paljot. And no doubt she will learn of it someday. The Lady and I will make sure she does, before her demise.”

Before Fjall can even process all of it, the Baron continued. “That poor girl, however, assembled an army, bringing together the finest from Paljot and Vardil, retaking Gret and even my ancestral home. Something I can never forget, but the Lady could and was, in fact, delighted to hear news of a woman to unite Tertiara after ages of separation. Until that same woman spoke up and rallied forces against her. Now, she is not even a dead woman, no, much worse, in fact. She will not be released from her shell until she passes from old age, and maybe not even then. Yet her life will not be a happy one—if you would call a lifetime of torture and pain in solitude, a torture on its own, a life: the Lady does not take kindly to those who offend her. Especially now that the coalition has control of Riena, her favourite outing spot. Araien is not to walk this land free, and neither she is to turn to the dead. She is to suffer for many dozens of years. This stands true if you refuse to slay her and put her to the Earth that she deserves, right next to her beloved, maybe. In her case, that is the best option.”

‘No. That cannot happen. She has a higher chance of defeating them than me anyhow, I have not been able to best her in battle. Besides, if things go awry, she is smart enough as not to let herself fall into the enemy’s arms. We are twins for a reason.’

“Defiance. Believe in her?” Avardil had an uncanny tendency to guess thoughts. “Untrue, but even assuming so, what about the others? Tallei, perhaps? She has no place anywhere, except for her troop and the two of you, and with you out of the question, that leaves the troop and Mortenir. Neither of which are welcome anywhere. But, you could bring her a happier life, instead of, once again, one of suffering. Her crimes against the Lady are so far insignificant, unlike her crimes against Paljot and Vardil both. And she could find a place and work in Strell, the Seafarer’s Heart, city built with this purpose in mind. Otherwise, for her and her family, it only gets worse from here. Regardless of whether your forces win or lose, although the latter is almost guaranteed.”

‘Bargaining? Abo would want none of that. She knows we’ve fucked up bad, she knows she has much to do to fix it. But she wouldn’t want to guilt of complicity, and neither would she accept it. This would be a betrayal from me. And I would never betray her.’

“What about Lieutenant Teie? That young boy who had responsibility thrust upon him by his masters, and did his best. It was saddening to watch, really, but I cannot go against the highest nobles so openly. He could have a good education, and a good life in the Alliance. Perhaps, with his newfound experience in leadership, he could even land a great position in the force. Would you take this chance away from him and take this youth’s life as well?”

‘Oita… The kid deserves the best. But he never wanted this, and never would he. Besides, he is strong enough to fight for himself. He can take down one of those ‘Hallistes’, and it would be yet another proof of his talent. And after the war, he can just… find a better place to be. And a better thing to do.’

“And, the last but certainly not the least, Lieutenant Mortenir,” on that, Fjall felt all of his mind shrink into one ability — to listen. As attentively as he could manage. “Do not think your nightly escapades—whatever they ended in—have escaped either your compatriots, or us. We have kept a watchful eye on the both of you from the fall of Gret. Young love, how nice that must be,” the Baron said to the knight behind him with a smirk, only to receive a stern glare back and hush. “Only if that love lasts. Thankfully for you, the Lady and myself are both reluctant to separate the two of you, so here is my last term and offer. Do the deed, and you can go free together, wherever your heart desires. Maybe even with the other lowly members of your group. Don’t you want things to be like they had been before all of this started? Here is your best chance.”

Avardil was a smooth talker, and he hit the bullseye.

Fjall was left grasping for straws, for something, some reason to say no, but all that came to mind was tied to this war. Before they left, even after, but before that skirmish on The Bridge, his world had been small yet perfect. It was far from it now. But they could still pretend it was, couldn’t they? Their small group, with a few more people, taking on odd jobs and travelling all across. Now that they could have each other, maybe all the other business: the Alliance, the Gods, even his legendary lost twin—maybe it didn’t matter. She didn’t matter.

The last thought had him shiver, to the delight of the Baron.

Hadn’t he sworn to protect any life worth saving? Hadn’t he pledged his loyalty, his knight’s pride to his sister, though she had begged him not to? Hadn’t he promised to himself—and to Abo, Oita, Meyl, Deim—that he would not make the same mistake as he had had before?

It was so tempting… A true Lady’s Trick, as some would call it. An opportunity one cannot accept but cannot refuse. And he was about to try the latter, certain it was hopeless for him. But, perhaps, not for the others.

‘Deim deserves a better person to fall for anyway.’

“I have pledged loyalty to the Earl of Tertiara, Araien I of Paljot. That is my final answer.”

The Baron’s expression changed to surprise. Then dismissive denial and, shortly after, anger. Pointed and concentrated on him. “Have you not heard me, perhaps?” he growled with pure venom in his voice. “This is your one chance to be normal, just like you had always wanted. Otherwise, be ready to witness them suffer for years without end, and try that yourself.”

“Your threats or your torture don’t scare me. Neither does death. They are strong enough to overcome whomever you pin against them, and will be better off without this criminal—now rightfully in a cell—regardless. I have given my answer.” 

“Foolish of you to assume that is your cell. No, this is simply a room for talking. Not even interrogations, but equal conversation and negotiation, if you will,” with that, he leaned in uncomfortably close. “But your time here has come to an end.” 

He stood up and walked to the door, but not before giving an order to the knight. “We’re done here, more drastic measures seem to be needed. We’ll see how he talks a few hours in. Rid him of his last bits of… dignity, and bring him upstairs. The clothes wouldn’t survive for long either way in those conditions.”

“Take this forward, Halliste.” 

“As I was inctructed to.”

[ayma-nidiot]

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 27

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 27 - I Challenge My Fate

~07 November 2005~ 

“President Phuckdis! Reporting in, sir!” A Buster Blader saluted his general. 

“Proceed, Captain.”

“Several enemies calling themselves ‘Earthbound Gods’ started attacking Joey and his friends. Apparently, Joey lost a duel, and last I checked, he was engaged in battle with a snake-like monster. There are now hundreds of enemy soldiers coming this way! It’s only a matter of time before-”

“Th-They’re here!” shouted a few guards who stood watch at the door. “Aaaaaaargh!”

“Hah!” Watda led the charge, showing no mercy in cutting down the guards. He aggressively attacked Joey and showed little interest in anything else. “How kind of you to show me where you lowlifes camp out! Now, give me Uru or else!”

“Never!” Joey swiped at Watda’s feet with his Salamandra sword, “summoned” from his Duel Disk.

“Oh?” Watda smirked as he jumped over the sword like a jump rope. “Why would you want to protect that ‘dung beetle…’ or whatever it is you called him?”

“Hahaha…” cackled a voice from behind Joey. “I wonder that, too. Well, no matter, since that will be your first and last mistake!”

“Weevil!” William growled at the half-shifted Weevil. “Dammit, he escaped!”

“What do you mean, ‘escaped?’” Joey wanted to know.

“William, you moron!” Phuckdis bopped his brother with the blunt end of his sword.

“Hey, Joey!” Weevil’s arms hardened, glowing blood-red. “Think fast!”

“Wh-What?” Joey darted around for the agile bug duelist. Before he could really process what was going on, Weevil found him first, stabbing his non-sword arm with a sharp spider arm. “Aaaah! You… You mosquito…”

“A mosquito, am I?” Weevil continued to assault Joey, who had to parry the attacks with a shaky arm. “Hah! A mosquito is but a caterpillar compared to the monster I’ve become, compliments of my fellow Earthbound Gods!” 

“You’ve gone absolutely batshit, Weevil! Open your eyes, why don’t you!”

“Nah, how about no.” Weevil stabbed Joey’s sword hand so hard that the Salamandra sword went flying. “But I’ll gladly open a giant wound in your belly and let the maggots have at you. I’ll make you suffer for what you’ve done in the past…”

“G-Ggh…” Joey looked up at his former Battle City rival, knowing his life was as good as done.

“The only one who will be suffering here is you, Weevil! Amazoness Empress, get ‘im!” exclaimed a debilitated Mai. 

“Ah…” All of the excitement of battle left Weevil in an instant, and he knelt to the ground in pain. 

“Bind Weevil at once!” Phuckdis ordered. “And be quick about it!”

“Yes, sir!” Several Magician Girl monsters got to work right away.

“Mai…” Joey got up, hoping to help the woman he loved - that was until Watda got in his path. 

“Going somewhere, Wheeler?” Watda slashed down a few Club members who got between him and Joey. “Not that it would do you any good, since your pretty little girlfriend is history!”

“Get off her, you thug!” Seeing Watda’s snake arms slither around Mai’s face pissed the hell out of Joey.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I want to hear her scream in agony after I take your life away!”

“Ggh…!” Joey tried to pick up the Salamandra. “Rex… Where the hell are… you…”

“Dammit, get out of our way!” Though the enemies Amber fought on the way to the Club meeting room were weak, their numbers were enough to overwhelm her.

“Need some help?” Rex asked before transforming himself, felling most of the enemies and weakening the rest.

“Papa! You shouldn’t be-” Amber would have scolded her mother if she hadn’t noticed what Rex’s transformation had done.

“Hehe!” Rex remained in rabbit form as he ran with Amber. “I might not be a strong monster, but I’ve got one heck of a special ability. Surprised?”

“Yeah, at the fact that your baby bump is still intact when you switch forms. Shapeshifter physiology is a weird thing, isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be for a girl genius like you.” 

“Papa… I know the circumstances are grave, but I don’t want you to push yourself. Let your strong daughter do the fighting.”

Rex’s endurance barely held on long enough to reach the Tabletop Gaming Club’s meeting room. As soon as he turned back into a human, his ankles swelled badly, and held onto Amber as a crutch.

“I got you, Papa. Oh?” No sooner had Rex reverted forms when Amber saw a fight going on well inside their meeting room, in the health/recreation center.

Unlike Amber, Rex recognized Watda instantly - as well as the captive he held by the neck. “That’s the guy who captured me! And he’s got Joey! Ugh!” Rex strained to transform.

“Papa, are you nuts? That man is the Crimson Devil, the strongest of the Earthbound Gods! Even I’m not match for him! H-Hey, get back here!” Amber couldn’t stop her mother from running to Watda in human form.

“Hehehe…” Watda cackled as he raised Joey above the gathering crowd - most of whom were weak monsters that didn’t dare to raise a hand against Watda. “My Earthbound Gods have lost to your friends… It’s too bad that you really lucked out and ended up dueling me ! Although I have to commend your bravery, Mr. Wheeler. It’s too bad you’re not as smart or strong as you are reckless.”

“Joey!” As much as Mai wanted to rescue the man she loved, enemies restrained her. “No! Take me instead, please!”

“D-Damn… you… Watda…” Having lost against Watda himself, Phuckdis barely had the strength to crawl on the floor, let alone fight back.

“Y-You’ll never… have… Urk!” Joey howled in pain as Watda’s nails dug into his neck, drawing blood.

“You’re trying to protect the man who tried to steal your soul, and the one whom you call a ‘duelin’ disgrace?’ Hah!” Watda used his free hand to grab Joey’s head, with the intent to twist it off. “I’ll show you the consequences of being a nice guy, you bleeding-heart filth! You don’t even deserve the honour of final words!”

“And I’ll show you the consequences of messing with my friends!” Rex thundered as he quickly shifted and latched onto one of Watda’s arms.

“Wh-What? Yeowch!” Thanks to Rex’s special effect, Watda could feel his strength draining. “You damned rabbit! How did you escape?”

“Not gonna tell you! But you best think how you’re going to escape!”

“What do you- Argh!” Before Watda could even turn around, an arrow from Amber pierced his shoulder.

“You’re… gonna pay!” Amber continued to shoot a flurry of arrows, chasing Watda out of the building. “Wait! ...Dammit, he got away! Let me-”

From an all-fours position, Rex grabbed one of Amber’s ankles. “Amber, not now… Just look around you.”

“Papa…” Amber noticed that in this battle, many Club members have already died, the vast majority of them killed by Watda.

“At least we know who are enemies are now.”

“...Fine.” Amber turned back into a human and glanced at Joey. “Just so you know, I still hate you. I didn’t do what I did because I consider you a friend.”

“Hehe, I know you do. You just won’t admit it!” Joey’s tone turned serious when he looked down at Rex. “That was a bold thing you did, man. Not only are you super pregnant, but you got beat to a pulp for gods know how long. I’m… I’m sorry for all that I said about you in the past. I take it all back.”

“It’s cool, dude…” Rex decided he couldn’t move anymore, and leaned against a giant wooden table for rest.

“Ugh.” Amber instead turned her attention to her incapacitated allies, Phuckdis and William. “Guys, are you okay?”

“Barely…” Phuckdis managed to stand on his feet, and helped his brother stand up too. “More importantly, Lady Amber… We’ve finally done it. We can now complete our mission.”

“Oh?” Amber looked to the smaller crowd, gathered around… something.

“‘Lady’ Amber? Come to think of it, I think I’ve heard her called that before…” Rex couldn’t see what was going on, even though he wasn’t very far.

“...Stay where you are, Rex.” Amber didn’t allow Rex to move one more inch forward.

“Amber?” Rex’s heart broke a little when Amber called him by his name. “Let me see what’s the ruckus over there!”

“Oh, I will.” Amber gestured for her soldiers to move out of the way, and when they dispersed, Rex could see Weevil - bound at the ankles, weak, and completely void of emotion.

“Weevil! You’re okay…” Rex attempted to crawl over to where Weevil was, but the ankle pain held him back.

“Rex… I don’t think you realize what kind of enemies we’re up against.”

“I’ve learned enough when I was captured. They want Weevil to join them because he’s an almighty god. And who wouldn’t?”

“They don’t want him for just any reason… He’s an Earthbound God, destined to cause ruin.”

Rex remembered what Dip told him, but tried to deny it. “Th-That’s not true! I thought you knew better than anyone that he can use his powers for good!”

“For now, yes… But in time… In time…” Amber walked towards Weevil and stared him down. “Their minds will become so corrupt that they have no choice but to fulfill their destiny. And when they’re with their own kind, they’ll cause unspeakable destruction.”

“Amber, that’s nonsense!”

Amber’s body and voice shook. “After seeing this destruction myself, I can hardly call it nonsense! The Earthbound Gods are what ruined my future! It was them… They were the ones who…”

“You’re not serious…?” Rex hugged himself to stop trembling.

“I saw it with my own eyes! Weevil was the one who killed my baby brother… My boyfriend…” Amber looked at the members of the “Dweeb Patrol,” who were even more confused than Rex. “All of you… And… you, Rex. Weevil killed you right in front of me.”

“Oh… my gods…” Rex wanted to throw up just from hearing this awful story.

“This… has been my mission… all along…” Amber half-shifted and pointed her arrow at Weevil, who looked up at her without a gleam in his eyes.

“Amber!” Rex couldn’t stop crying. “Do you mean to tell me you were duping me this whole time? That all along, your only real goal was to kill Weevil?”

“That’s right.  This overgrown spider is the only thing standing between our future and complete freedom!”

“Amber…” Rex cried. “I… I can’t believe what I’m hearing… No, I won’t believe it!”

“And now… I challenge my fate!” Amber’s arrow glowed brightly.

“Do it, Lady Amber.” Phuckdis ordered. “Your mother is already pregnant with your present self, so you can still live. And Francis… He never deserved to live in such a terrible future. Do this, and his soul will be appeased.”

“Haha…” Amber’s eyes hardened on Weevil. “I’m going to free everyone… I’m going to save the world! All I have to do is kill one bloody Earthbound God! And I’m going to do it in front of your very eyes, Rex!”

“Amber… Argh!” No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much Phuckdis and William pulled his legs, Rex crawled forward. 

“Don’t you dare interfere in our mission, Rex!” Phuckdis threatened to stab Rex’s legs with his sword. “I don’t care if you’re pregnant! I won’t hesitate to hurt you!”

“Amber… I know you don’t want to do this. The bonds your father and I have forged with you over the past few months are real. They’re not something you want to end with a stupid, puny arrow. Even though you’re barely younger than us, Weevil and I really love you as our daughter. Isn’t there any room in your heart for the father who raised you? The father who taught you everything there is to know about insects and dueling? The father would would take all the pain and suffering in the world just to make you happy?”

“Shut… up…” Amber started to tear up.

“Amber… I want us to live and bond as a family. There’s got to be another way. Let’s put all this behind us and go on another mall trip, or walk in the park. But whatever you do… please, don’t do this.”

“Shut up, Rex! You’re just making it harder!” Amber’s aim at Weevil’s heart began to waver. 

“But you can save him! We’ve done it before!”

“No. Look at him! He’s too far gone now... He doesn’t even remember who the fuck you are, Rex! This is the only way I can save the world - and Weevil’s soul. I… I don’t want to see this man suffer in the soulless shell that was once Weevil Underwood. I’d… rather… Sniff…”

“Rex… Weevil…” Even the normally-proud Joey, the Joey that once despised Rex and Weevil with everything he had, couldn’t help but shed tears of his own.

“Weevil…” Amber choked on her own breath, and she pulled her bowstring as far back as she could. “Sorry, not sorry.”

So were Amber’s final words as she tearfully let her arrow fly at Weevil full speed.

[vesperione]

It Started With A Whisper

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901156

Wordcount: 3,060

Relationship: Xander Lee/John McNamara

Tags: The Apotheosis, transition from non infected to infected, songfic, phone call, angst, crying, last words, flashback.

Full fic below 

A flash of golden hair and two hands slamming down on the table, the face of pure rage over the bustling in the room. “I said SILENCE!” He roared, and his agents seemed to get the idea. They silenced themselves and looked down to their table, except one, who was a physicist and remained looking up. The general didn’t stop. “We are in a situation where the spores could spread to become a pandemic worldwide, ending humanity as we know it! We know thanks to Lieutenant Lee that the origin of these mutating spores came from the meteor that crashed into The Starlight Theatre last night during the touring production of Mamma Mia! We know these spores in particular alter DNA to mimic someone in a musical, but once you get infected, you’re dead. We must not panic and remain safe!” He said and glared at each individual soldier, his eyes lingering on the Lieutenant’s face beside him. It was worried, sad, fearful. He looked away first, and the general took a breath.

“Any remaining survivors must be shot dead, once in the head, once in the heart. We don’t know who is infected. The plan after is that we incinerate the corpses of the dead, destroy any last spores with fire and blow the meteor to shreds. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” A chorus of voices rang from around the table.

“I wish for Lieutenant Lee to stay behind and as for the rest of you? You are required to head straight to your stations and do not move once you are there! PEIP will be in lockdown once everyone is in the correct position. Dismissed.”

With that, the shuffle of chairs against faded carpet, the soldiers left, aside from two. The Lieutenant remained sitting down, his hands putting his head in their hold, while John, pull a chair beside him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Dear, a lot of people have died, and it is our duty to make a clean sweep of the island. We can’t allow any others to die today.”

“But if you go out there, there’s a higher possibility that you will die. You can’t go out; you won’t make it back.”

“Xander, listen.” John looked down to his husband, his hands placed in a firm clasp. “We are strong. We are McNamara’s.”

“No, you’re a McNamara, we got married illegally.”

“Regardless, you’re my husband, and you’re the strongest man I know. The McNamara’s are the strongest family in Hatchetfield, we’ll be fine.”

“No, we won’t. Things are indefinitely gonna change whether you make it back or not.” John looked to the Lieutenant, just in time to see a tear drop on to the glass table. He bit his lip and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll make it back.”

“Stop lying to yourself, John.” Xander said, his voice shaking as tears continued to fall down his face. “If you go, you’re gonna die. You know that, deep down.” He looked up to face his husband. “The agents we’ve already sent out have died, you know that, I know that, Ben knows that, and you’re gonna send yourself into the epicentre?”

“Xander, you know it’s not like that.” John looked at him, trying to reason, but he shook his head.

“Speaking from a Lieutenant’s point of view, if our general dies, the entire precinct goes down with it. I’m aware Colonel Schaffer is prepared to take over PEIP at any sudden chance you go, but PEIP will never be the same. It won’t be General McNamara’s precinct anymore. Sure, you’ll get your place on the PEIP Hall of Commemoration, but there’ll be a new leader, new rules.”

“I know but-“

“And as your husband, who the fuck am I going to come home to every night aside from the cats?” He looked up at John and took in the slight grey thunderbolt streaks that clashed with his stormy blue skies of irises, creating the picture-perfect storm on what could have been a blank canvas. It was a while before John broke his eyes away and stood up. “No, John! You tell me! You can’t run from this! You can’t run from the pain you’re gonna cause others if you step out that door!”

“It’s hard enough as it is for me to have to leave you, but as the general of this god-forsaken branch, it’s my duty to protect the remaining agents while they stay in the precinct and calculate a cure! You will be one of those to go into your lab and get working!”

“Yet I can’t go with you?!”

“You don’t have the current training!”

“Stop trying to fucking protect me, John! I’ve been here since 2007 and you treat me like a Private most of the time! I’m a 35-year-old Lieutenant with a degree in theoretical physics and I’m fully trained as a medic! I have the training, so why are you sacrificing your life instead of mine?!”

“Because if I have to watch you die, then what’s the point of trying to go on, Xander?! I’d be alive, yes, but I’d only be surviving! If I had to watch you die, then I wouldn’t be able to call myself a married man and the person who kept me alive wouldn’t be there to comfort me. I’d be down, I’d be so down, and I’d end up dead anyway! I’d prefer it if you stayed here, under my orders, and for you to stop being so damn stubborn with me!”

“Me? Stubborn?!” Xander laughed tearfully and looked at him. “You’re the stubborn one! You run from your problems instead of solving them, you bask in your insecurities instead of delving upon them, you-“ But he was cut off by the familiar feeling of John’s semi-chapped lips against his own. John’s hands were cupping his face, and John was standing on his toes to kiss him better. Xander couldn’t help but hold his waist as he kissed him back. He didn’t want to be the one to pull away, and he didn’t think John would want to be the person either, so he could feel the kiss deepening. Eventually, John’s face left his, but his forehead was pressed to the physicist’s. The soft thumb attached to John’s hand wiped away the bead of salt that threatened to roll down Xander’s face.

“Hey, baby,” John started, his eyes closed and his voice quiet. “I’ll be home by ten. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Xander said, a soft whisper in his voice as John moved away from his husband, not before he dropped his wedding and engagement rings in Xander’s fist. Before Xander could process it, he was gone.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

(a JEIP is a peip officiated jeep)

John started up the JEIP, hearing Xander’s music playing through the speaker. He immediately switched it off. He’d rather not be reminded of his husband as he accepted his fate.

His husband, his smart, incredible, the pure definition of ‘tall, dark and handsome,’ Xander James Lee. His mind was like no others, and John had hired him on the spot. They started dating within a year and got married two years after. They’d both cried when they’d gotten home that night. It had been illegal, and they both knew that, but they had each other. He was John’s new addiction, aside from the cigarettes, and Xander became the only thing he thought about ever. When Xander spoke, sometimes it sounded like what John was being given was fiction, but it was only because John’s mind was struggling to piece together the creative aspects of Xander and the complicated phrases he uttered. It didn’t matter. John was a sorry sucker for the smart, and he found that this kind of thing happened all the time. He was an easy target to gain a crush on someone, but he rarely acted upon it. If Xander hadn’t kissed John in his office to begin with, he wouldn’t be married to the smartest guy in town.

He shook his head. Thinking of Xander would make everyone worse. He started driving deeper into the centre of Hatchetfield to reach Hatchetfield High, the school where he suspected there’d be a few survivors, if any. The grey haze around him soon became a paler blue. He locked his doors and windows, but he feared it was too late.

It started with a whisper. It was only the smallest thing, but it was in the back of John’s mind, and he knew he was gone.

He doesn’t love you.

“ No, John, ignore it.”

And you don’t love him.

“ Of course you do, you’re married to him, don’t cave in.”

That was why you kissed her when you were drunk.

“John, you only kissed her when you were seventeen, it was internalised homophobia and we didn’t know Xander back then.”

But you liked the way she felt against your lips.

“No. I didn’t.”

And then she made your lips hurt.

“Shut up.” The voice was getting louder, and it was being sung to him.

But we can hear the chit chat, so take us to your love shack-

He hit the breaks and he jerked forward, panting at the memory. It was internalised homophobia, and nothing came out of it. He was left in silence until he heard the voice sing again.

Mama’s always gotta back track, when everybody talks back.

He growled and got out the car, lighting a cigarette. He was in Hatchetfield High, or near enough to it. He held his gun in his hand. He had to go and find any survivors and eliminate them.

--------------------------------------------------------

Eventually he did. He found a tall, flimsy man with brunette hair who looked a lot like Xander aside from the pale skin. John grabbed a chair as the man became conscious, groaning with pain. The voice had gone away, and the general was having an internal debate as to whether he was truly infected, or whether his mind was convincing him he was. Either way, he was beginning to get scared. He’d broken his promise to his husband, he’d lost the fight.

“Sorry for the knock in the head, son. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Paul…Matthews.” The guy said, and John smiled reassuringly.

“Good evening, Paul. My name is General John McNamara of the United States Military, special unit P-E-I-P, we call it PEIP.” He said as he took a seat, facing the taller man.

“PEIP? I’ve never heard of you guys.” It was clear he was confused, which was the correct tactic. No citizen outside of PEIP should know what the army base was. Even if a member had a husband or wife or kids who didn’t work there, they were strictly forbidden from knowing what PEIP was. If information got leaked, it would traumatise a lot of people. They had to be careful who they hired and had to ensure they remained to have top secrecy 24:7. It wasn’t fair on the innocent citizens for them to be placed in a situation like that, and immediately begin to panic. He’d watched it happen when his mentor, Wilbur Cross, was unintentionally too loud when discussing a case they had to work on. Needless to say, that woman lost her life that day before she could spread rumours.

John shook his head at the faint memory, quick to come up with a joke to make the situation more light-hearted and less threatening as he’d been taught during his training.

“And you never will, not a peep.” He grinned, but Paul’s fearful, brown eyes remained wide and dilated. John sighed and took another drag on the cigarette. “That was a joke, son.” Only then did the song begin to start up again.

Hey, honey, you could be my drug. You could be my new prescription.

John froze as Paul started asking questions about the scene. The song was back, and he was losing hope about himself. John answered the questions the best he could, explaining how they dealt with crises of a certain nature and such. Then he bought up the helicopter, and Paul perked up. When John stood up with Paul’s phone in his hand, he went to throw it until he heard the song again.

Too much could be an overdose, all this trash talk make me itchin’.

John swallowed and decided to only throw it a short distance, beginning to get scared. Him and Paul continued to make short conversation about his crush, Emma, and where to go. Once Paul ran out the building, John headed back over to the phone. The lock screen was nothing special, and he didn’t know the passcode, but he was able to swipe on to the emergency phone call section. He had Xander’s phone number memorised, so he typed it in, sitting against a mat on the floor, leaning against the wall as the song continued in his head.

Oh my, my. Everybody talks, everybody talks. Everybody talks, too much.  

John felt tears prick his eyes, grateful when he heard the static of the other end picking up.

“Xander Lee, theoretical physicist speaking, how may I help?”

“Hey, baby.” John said, unable to stop a smile from forming as it always did when he heard Xander’s voice.

“John! Shit! Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I swear.” That was a lie. The song was getting stronger and he was starting to feel a faint rhythm in his veins. He was getting scared. Maybe he wasn’t making it home…

“You sound panicked.”

“I’m ringing to ensure everything’s running smoothly back at HQ. Is it?”

“As smooth as it can be.” Xander’s sigh was heavy, pulling his entire weight down with him. John found himself sinking further down into the ground at the sound. “But I’m okay. I’m in my lab and I haven’t let anybody in. I’m quarantined.”

“Good.” John said, moving his beret more over his hair. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I understand. You’re doing what you have to do. You’re the general, I should have trusted you before-“

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t play the blame game now. It’s okay and I’ve forgiven you, understand?”

“Understood, John.”

“Good.” John said, clutching the edge of the mat as the beat began to become something similar to an annoying itch. He began to tap out the beat on to the carpet beside him with his other hand, trying to keep fighting the virus that consumed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And I can’t wait for you to come home, I know you’ll be able to do it.”

That seemed to trigger something inside of John, and something slipped out of his mouth that wasn’t supposed to. “I never thought I’d live to see the day, when everybody’s words got in the way.” He was still speaking, but the beat was as clear as day. Luckily, he heard Xander laugh over the phone. His soft laugh that was rare to hear. John was the only one who heard it lately.

“You’re still annoyed at me for trying to stop you from leaving earlier, aren’t you?” Another laugh followed. “I knew you would, I’m not surprised.”

John couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to tell Xander the truth. He was gone, and he was falling quicker. He had to say goodbye while he still could. “Hey sugar, show me all your love. All you’re giving me is friction.”

“John?” The question was meek and scared, the tone of the call immediately fading. John never used that pet name. Something was wrong. He knew John wouldn’t have rang otherwise.

“Hey, sugar, what you gotta say?” Another way to reveal John wasn’t himself anymore. He hardly abbreviated his words and was unable to keep himself fighting the infection. He felt weak, and he knew he was. He fought back for consciousness as tears formed more in his eyes. What was worse was Xander’s panicked voice.

“John, what’s going on?!” The frantic clicking of keys on the other end of the line signalled to John that Xander was trying to access John’s medical information stored in John’s watch. He took a breath. He had to admit to Xander the truth.

“I’m sorry, Xander. But it started with a whisper…” He was quiet himself, trying to prevent sobs.

“No! Don’t you dare, John! Don’t you dare!”

“And it felt like the first time I kissed you, when you made my lips hurt.”

“You are staying alive! I’m working on a cure, I nearly have it finished! I’ll get you back!”

“And suddenly, I could hear a conjoined group of voices in Hatchetfield all singing in one harmony…there was a lot of chit chat regarding a situation that turned into a song… and I’m sorry.”

“John! You’re lying!”

“Take me to your love shack.” He slipped up and heard a sob come from the other line, or maybe it was a scream. “I’m sorry, Xander, I’m trying to fight but it’s heard when everybody talks back, everybody talks, everybody talks-“

“John, keep fighting-“

“Everybody talks, everybody talks.”

“I’ve almost gotten the cure!”

“Everybody talks, everybody talks back….I’m sorry, I love you.”

“John, fucking fight!”

“Say it back, Xander! I love you!”

“I-I love you too!”

The phone hung up and John threw it until it smashed on the ground, letting the warmth fill his body as his own thoughts became clouded with the hives own.

“It started with a whisper, and that was when I kissed him.” A smirk formed on John’s face as he looked to the damaged glass he’d left on the floor. He pulled himself up, like a puppet controlled by a master. “Everybody talks, everybody talks back.” He took a final glance at the room before he walked in the same beat as the new song beginning to form. It was close enough to eleven o’clock at night. There was a guy with a moustache he didn’t recognise, but he was talking about the military and his American pride. John would have scoffed, but this wasn’t John. He drew his gun and shot him, grabbing the man’s shoulder. Xander didn’t exist to the hive. Xander was weak. Xander could be thrown away. John couldn’t. His smile was stained blue as he looked to the bleeding man.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told, but American’s should fit a mould…”

[words-writ-in-starlight]

FIC PROMPTS. YOU KNOW THE THING. ÉTIENNE CHASING CHELSEA AROUND THE WORLD, AND ALL THE DESPERATE MEETINGS ALONG THE WAY. OR ANYTHING WITH CHELSEA, AT ALL.

I BET YOU THOUGHT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ASK! THINK AGAIN MOTHERFUCKERS, I COME WITH CHELSEA ANGST!

over hill, over dale, over valley and vale

There’s a lot to be said for living inFairyland, in Chelsea’s opinion.  DukeTorquill is very nice—partly, she suspects, because he views all of Sir Daye’sstrays as a sort of motley crew of grandchildren—even if his wife is strangeand distant even in her kindness.  Pixiesare a vastly more interesting pest than mice, the Hobs in the kitchen are alltoo game to allow or even encourageChelsea to steal snacks whenever she’s interested, and for the first time inher life, Chelsea has friends near her own age. Quentin, and through Quentin Raj, and Karen, and sometimes evenCassandra or Helen.  Not many friends,and spread across seven or eight years in age, but there are nights whenChelsea feels almost dizzy with the embarrassment of riches.

Then there are days like this one, whereChelsea wishes Fairyland had left her well alone until the day she died ahappily ignorant human death.

Chelsea sucked in a breath and it tasted like fire, and ittasted like smoke, and it tasted like screaming, and then—yes, God, yes, thank you, a doorout of this hell, she knew where it would take her, it would take her toSeattle—

She stumbled into ice and snow, and there was a voice shoutingfor her to listen, for her to breathe, just for a moment, and then—

The stars overhead were unfamiliar, and there was an invisiblefist around her spine, around her heart, holding her in place, and her skin wasbeing sanded away to reveal something new and strange, and there was still somuch screaming—anything to be out of this place where everything hurt and shewas a prisoner, anything, anywhere would be better, anywhere but—

There was a man with green eyes and a startled expression, andthen there was fire, and then—

Chelsea’s eyes snap open, and sheflinches back so hard her head cracks into the stone wall.  Her hands fly out, trying to ward off theflames, grabbing for the intangible somethingthat makes up the world, but—

Hands lowering slowly, Chelsea blinks,gulping in a vast breath, then another, and another, as she feels her heartrace.  Right.  Of course. She’s at Shadowed Hills, the dim shapes around her focusing into herroom as her eyes remember what seeing feels like.  There are her books, and her desk, and herwardrobe.

There’s no glittering door in front ofher.

It’s a good thing.  It’s safety. It’s the surest sign in the world she’ll never be swept away again.

It makes Chelsea’s gut twist up with fearuntil she’s sure she’s about to be sick.

Chelsea pulls her legs up to her chestand wraps both arms tight around them, like a little kid afraid of thedark.  Chelsea had never been afraid ofthe dark—even as a child, she had been able to see through the dim,light-polluted Berkley night with ease, and it had felt safe and comforting,nothing like the punishing whipcrack of sunrise.  She thinks she might be learning to be afraidnow, despite her fine new night vision.

At very least, her time in Duchess Riordan’scare taught her well and truly to be afraid of being alone.

“I want my dad,” she whispers into herknees.

It’s a strange impulse.  Her dad—Etienne—is still nearly astranger.  She doesn’t know him, notreally.  He’s a knight, for God’s sake, he fights with a sword.  But—

But she also knows him better than she’sever known anyone, because the first time she met him, he caught her shakingshoulders in his hands and said that he would never leave her again, and shehad looked into his eyes and known hewas telling the truth.

It went like this.

Chelsea was sure she was going to die,alone in a strange world, surrounded by people who didn’t even care enough tohate her.  She wonders, now, if SirDaye—Toby, which Chelsea is still adjusting to—knows how utterly fortunate sheis, that most of her enemies hate herwith every fiber of her being.  It wasterrifying, gut-wrenching, to know that she was going to die, her body left onthe heather or thrown over the cliffs, and no one who cared would ever know,and no one who knew would ever care, except that their crowbar to pry open thewalls of the world had finally given out.

And worse than that, she was going to diein pain, because the blinding painthat had started in her head was lancing down her neck, burning along hernerves like it was trying to chew through her bones.  The longer she held open the gate, the moreit hurt—and she couldn’t do anything else, she couldn’t, because there was an unbreakable grip around her spineand she couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, couldn’t do anything but try to standhere and not die.

When the fight started, she could barelysee past the white-static haze drifting over her vision, popping here and therewith black starbursts.  There wasscreaming, barely distinguishable from the noise in Chelsea’s ears.  It had started as a pitchy hum, then aringing, and now it was as if she was standing in a high wind, just an endlessroaring that ebbed every once in a while to remind her that her heart reallywas beating that fast.

Someone was rushing toward her.  Fine. Chelsea couldn’t see, couldn’t move, just gasped out a wheezing, sobbingbreath and tried to straighten under the weight of the pain.  The gate, the gate, she had to hold up thegate—

“Chelsea!”

That was what had finally gotten herattention, brought her back into her body from the elsewhere she had started todrift toward.  If Riordan knew her name,Chelsea had never seen any evidence of that fact.  The only people who had shouted her name werethe other changeling, and the man with her, and this was neither of them.

Turning her head hurt more than anythingelse Chelsea had ever done.

There was a man moving toward her, movingfast, and he looked like he’d been beaten to hell and back but he bulledthrough one of the invisible soldiers without so much as a pause.

“Chelsea!” he repeated, more sharply, andthen he was in front of her.  He wastall, and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and sharply pointed ears and eyes asbright as freshly minted pennies. “Chelsea, breathe,” he said. There was a strange accent clinging to his deep voice, but his wordswere kind, and he caught her shoulder when she wavered on her feet.

“Who—are—you,” Chelsea forced out, oneword at a time, and his face twisted into something between grief and blind,homicidal rage.

“My name is Etienne,” he said, and oh,then his hands were brushing her hair out of her face, careful and unsure, butthe touch left a small path of painlessness, for a brief moment.  “I’m—I’m your father.”

“It hurts,” Chelsea gasped, feeling tearsgather in her eyes again.  The ragesettled more fully onto his face.  “It—Ithurts.”

“I know it does, Chelsea,” the man—her father—said.  “I’m going to help you hold open thegate.  Just look at me.  You’re doing wonderfully.”

“I don’t want to keep it open anymore,”she said, tipping over fully into crying. “It hurts, I—I don’t want to die, I don’t--”

“You are not going to die,” her father said fiercely, cupping her face inhis hands and catching her eyes with his own. Her eyes, his eyes.  It was funny,to a hysterical part of Chelsea’s brain, but laughing was one too many thingsto consider doing right now.  “I am goingto get you out of this, Chelsea.  Youhave my word.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Chelsea begged,and she knew she was begging, and she didn’t care, because fuck, at least if he stayed, she wouldn’t die alone.  “Please, please, I can’t—I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”  Her father was still cradling her face inboth hands, and he looked every inch the knight of the Fair Folk, even throughthe bruises and blood—wild, and terrible, and honest.  “Chelsea, you can do this.  I am going to get you out of this, but weneed that gate back to the mortal world to do it.  Chelsea—Chelsea, look at me, open your eyes.”

Were they closed?  Chelsea forced them open, and it took far toolong for his face to resolve.  All shecould see was his eyes, bright as copper, and vicious with determination.

“Listen to me, Chelsea,” he said, wipingthe tears from her face with his thumbs. “I am so sorry, that I wasn’t there for you.  We should have had all these years together,and we didn’t, and I’m sorry.  But I giveyou my word, on oak and ash and thornand rowan and anything else you want me to swear on, that I am not leaving younow.  Do you believe me?”

And God save her—oak and ash and thornand rowan save her—she did.

“Yes,” she whispered.  Her voice sounded like a child’s when shespoke again.  “Daddy?  What do I do?”

“You breathe,” he said, sounding close totears himself.  “And you look at me.”

And he had somehow, through some miracleof magic she didn’t think even Etienne could explain, talked her throughkeeping the gate open, even when her legs tried to fold up under her and shestopped being able to speak through the pain. He had held her up, keeping his voice steady, and she had clung to himas best she could without losing her grasp on the gate, and then when she hadbeen snatched away again—

She knows now what it had cost Etienne tofollow her, to chase her through cities and countries and realms when, at hisstrongest, he found it tiring to go from Shadowed Hills to Toby’s house.  The magic burn had been brutal, powerdampeners or not.  But he had stayed onher heels every step of the way, he had stayed on his feet when she wascollapsing, he had held her hand when they were close enough and hugged her closein the Snow Kingdoms and told her where they were.  Within an hour, he had gone from a strangerto her dad, the man who would doanything in the world to keep her safe.

So maybe it makes sense, now, thatChelsea wants him.

Her mom—her mom is wonderful.  Bridget Ames loves her daughter witheverything she has and more than a few things she doesn’t, and Chelsea knowsthis.

Her mom also didn’t understand why herbeautiful baby girl screamed and sobbed every day at dawn, and even if sheknows the reason now, she’ll never understand.  Her mom would do anything for her, but shecould never have hung onto Chelsea’s hand and panted out “Welcome toTir-na-Nog,” just so that Chelsea wouldn’t be lost anymore.

But she’s seventeen damn years old, goingon eternity, and she’s going to take some deep breaths and get herself undercontrol rather than running to her parents.

The shaking has started to ease out of herhands, finally, when her door opens—just a crack.

If it was at home—if Chelsea was how shewas, at her old home—she wouldn’t have been able to make out the face of theperson standing there in this darkness. The Summerlands might be comparable to light-polluted California intheir perpetual twilight, but any room meant for sleeping is dark, heavy curtains or else no windowsat all, and Chelsea’s is the same.  Now,though, she blinks away the last haze clinging to her lashes and whispers,“Daddy?”

“I—I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says,like he’s been caught doing something wrong. “I only—Chelsea, are you all right?”

And she doesn’t know what gave her away,if he can see the salt tracks on her cheeks or hear the faint rasp in hervoice, or maybe he just knows, butit’s the middle of the day and she can’t lie to him.

“Can I have a hug?” Chelsea breathes, andshe knows she sounds like a child afraid of the dark and doesn’t care.

Chelsea doesn’t care because there’s abeat where Etienne seems taken off-guard, but then he says, “Of course.”  And he crosses the room in a handful of quicksteps to hesitate, just for a fraction of a second, next to her bed before hevisibly steels himself and settles down next to her to pull her into a hug, andhe’s nervous and unsure of his welcome, just like he was when he brushed herhair from her face, but his arms are strong and he holds onto her like she’sthe most precious thing he’s ever touched. Chelsea presses her face into his shoulder without thinking twice,wrapping her arms around his neck and breathing in the faint scent of cedarthat clings to him even though he hasn’t had his magic in weeks, and herfather’s grip goes from cautious to firm the moment he’s sure of what shewants, and it’s—

Chelsea finds herself bursting into tearsagain without really knowing why.

Etienne makes a faint noise, like he’s ata loss for what to do, but he’s a damn knight,her father, and he knows how to rally and come through when he’s needed.  He comforts differently from her mother—doesn’trub her back or rock back and forth, just holds her tight with one arm and strokesher hair with the other hand, tucking her head under his jaw while she burrowsinto his shoulder.  He doesn’t sayanything, either, and somehow it’s perfect.

She’s heard stories of the Fair Folk allher life, but none of them ever mentioned how brutally hard Faerie took change.  She’salways been fae enough for that.  

She doesn’t know how to explain why she’scrying, can’t put her fingers on the words to say why she’s shaking apart half-wayinto her father’s lap, it’s all too much and too strange and some deep part ofher that’s woken up lately clings pettily to the way things used to be andmutters that change is for mortals.  And her father, Etienne who kept ShadowedHills standing when the Duke went mad with change,doesn’t ask her to explain, just holds her and strokes her hair and waits forher to cry herself out.

It takes a while.  When Chelsea’s tears finally ebb until she’snot shuddering anymore, she realizes that he’s humming, something sweet and alittle sad in the back of his throat. Not a lullaby, but maybe a ballad.  And she keeps her head pressed against hisshoulder, tucks her face into the curve of his throat, and lets the sound of itresonate into her bones while she breathes through the last of the tears.

“Sorry,” Chelsea whispers into her father’sshoulder.

“It’s quite all right,” Etienne says,loosening his grip on her slightly to let her sit away from him.  Then he cups her face in his hands, like hedid in Annwn, and wipes away her tears with his thumbs, looking into her eyeswith a worried expression.  In the dimlight spilling in through the hallway, his eyes are too shadowed to show thebright penny-copper, but he can probably see it in hers.  “Are you well, Chelsea?  Did you have a nightmare?”

Chelsea nods, and self-consciousness isstarting to set in, at last, because this might be her father, her Daddy, buthe was also a perfect stranger two months ago. Two months ago, he’d probably never let a teenager sob all over him inhis life.  

“I didn’t mean to—sorry,” she says again,weakly, reaching up between Etienne’s hands to rub at her eyes.  He lets go of her at once, to give her thespace to collect herself, and Chelsea wishes idly that she wasn’t such ablotchy crier.  Her mother cries with thecollected elegance of a princess. Chelsea’s face flushes red in patches and her eyes go bloodshot and shealways manages to look hopelessly frazzled. Being a pureblood just means it doesn’t last as long as it used to.

Etienne’s frown deepens, minutely.  “Don’t be. What was your nightmare about?”

“Fire,” Chelsea says, and her voicewavers.  She clears her throat and saysagain, more steadily, “Fire.  And someother places.”

Etienne reaches out, hesitant, and tucksa wayward lock of hair back from her face, and says, “Do you want something hotto drink?”

The question is so—not what Chelsea expected that she blinks at him for a moment.  “Something hot to drink?” she echoes, blank.

He smiles faintly.  “Yes. I used to drink tea when I had nightmares as a child.  Do you want something hot to drink?”  She blinks at him one or two more times forgood measure, against the gritty feeling of having cried too hard for too long,and Etienne adds, “I’m sure that someone is awake in the kitchen, and if not, Iknow where everything is.  You like hotchocolate.”

He says the last somewhere between aquestion and a statement.  Like he knowsit’s the truth but isn’t sure he’s allowedto know it.

“I—look like a mess,” Chelsea says.  “I always look like a mess after I cry.”

Etienne’s smile widens a little, takingon some of that wondering edge she’s getting used to seeing on him.  “You get that from me, I’m afraid.”

“You are not an ugly crier.”

“You would lose that bet, my love,” hesays dryly, and stands up from her bed.  Thenhe holds out a hand to her, and—

Her father’s hand is warm and Chelseafeels like a kid, standing up next to him. They’re almost of a height—Chelsea is probably due a few more inches,which will put them dead even—but she’s in pajama pants with little frogs onthem and he’s still wearing livery, fine fae cloth that looks expensive evenafter she wept all over it.  The stone iscold on her feet before she steps into her slippers.  It’s a strange, out-of-place sense memory, ofbeing a little girl holding her mother’s hand after a bad dream, but it’sfamiliar and safe and soothing.

Etienne has callouses on his palm thatcan’t be from anything but a sword, but the strong, sure grip on her hand as heleads her down the hall hits that same sense memory.  Chelsea relaxes into it, more easily than shewould have dreamed, into this feeling of being a kid shuffling after her parentand trying not to yawn every time she’s faced with a bright light.  Few people are awake at this hour, and thosethat are mostly consist of Etienne’s knights, who smile at her a littleindulgently and give him a polite nod, and then they’re at the kitchen, andEtienne is placing Chelsea on a stool while he boils water in a saucepan.

He doesn’t talk while he does it, andChelsea doesn’t ask any questions.  She’stoo busy watching the apparently intricate process of making hot chocolate on astove.  It makes some intuitive sense,she guesses.  Etienne’s exact age is somethingshe’ll have to ask about someday, but he probably predates Swiss Miss hot cocoapackets and definitely predates the microwave.  He can use one—Chelsea saw him with her own eyes,at Tamed Lightning—but apparently for the time being he prefers to meltchocolate into milk the old-fashioned way. There’s a lot more stirring and careful heat management than Chelsea isused to, when it comes to making anything short of a meal.

God, can Etienne cook?  He seems reasonably confident, adding a bitof cinnamon and something else that smells strange and exotic to the chocolate,but Chelsea has literally never seen him make anything more complicated thancoffee.  The Hobs that usually populatethe kitchen are happy to feed anyone who comes through, but, as a rule, aren’tcharitable to strangers cooking in their space. Etienne is lucky there aren’t any here, or they definitely would havechased him off before he could even turn on the stove.

Chelsea is so absorbed in watching thehypnotic swirl of the hot chocolate that it startles her, when Etienne liftsthe saucepan away and neatly pours some into a mug.

“It’s been a while since I made hot chocolate,”he says, with that trace of rueful humor Chelsea has started to recognize.  He sets the blue mug on the table in front ofher stool and it smells sweetly of chocolate and spices, cinnamon and thatother darker spice she can’t quite put her finger on.  The porcelain isn’t quite hot enough to burnwhen she wraps her hands around it.  “Butthe principle is still simple enough.”

“Just like riding a bike,” she says,staring at the hot chocolate like she’s expecting it to disappear.  Etienne makes a noise that she’s starting toknow as his I understood that human idiombut you’ll never make me admit it noise, and she smiles down at her mug.  “Daddy,” she says.  “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Etienne says quietly.

Chelsea takes a sip of the hot chocolateand it’s—fucking incredible, actually. Chelsea’s always had a sweet tooth, the kind of kid who stole sugarpackets when her mother’s back was turned, and the hot chocolate is so thickand sweet that it washes away the sour taste of tears with a single swallow.  When she lowers the cup, she realizes thatEtienne has the remainder of the hot chocolate in a smaller mug, his hippropped against the counter next to her, not quite selling casual but very nearly hitting the mark on comfortable.

“You were there in my dream,” she says,before she can talk herself out of it. Etienne looks up at her, over the edge of his cup.  “I fell through the Snow Kingdoms, and Icould hear your voice.  You were tellingme to breathe, and that it would be okay.”

It seems to take Etienne so off-guardthat he’s left fumbling for words.  Inthe warm golden light of the kitchen, his eyes are so bright they lookpolished, and when he blinks quickly, twice, something glitters for a moment onhis lashes before he rallies, taking another sip of his hot chocolate as if tofortify himself.

“Chelsea,” he says, voice still quiet, asif they’re still in her room.  “I—I hopeyou know that I did not mean to leave you, as a baby.  I would have given anything, to be able tospend those years with you, and your mother. You are—you are the greatest gift I could ever have dreamed of, and nowthat I have the option, I intend to do everything in my power to be at yourside for as long as you want me there. For the rest of your life, if you wish.”

“For the rest of forever?” Chelsea asks,and her voice sounds thin and wistful. Forever might be her birthright, now, as a pureblood, but it’s a longtime to the girl who grew up half human.

“Until the last oak and ash crumble, andthe rowan and thorn never grow again,” Etienne swears, and he sounds so seriousthat she thinks it must be a vow. Chelsea nods, and takes a few more long swallows of her hot chocolate.

“This is really good, Daddy,” shemurmurs.  “What did you put in it?”

“Cloves,” Etienne says immediately.  “I’m afraid my culinary talents are—limited,but no one ever accused me of being inept with spices.  I could--” He pauses, and then bulls on like a good knight.  “I could teach you how to make it someday, ifyou’d like.”

“Yeah,”Chelsea says.  “Yeah, I’d love that.”

[crashdevlin]

Bottle- 15: Sausage With Peppers

Bottle Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 3539

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship,non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: none

Cassie pulled the van into the parking lot of the Walmart and started at the building for a minute. "How is your first Avengers mission treating you, Joanna?" Loki's voice came from the passenger seat.

"You're not really there," she whispered, closing her eyes. She couldn't look at him, even a projection of him. After what she saw in Africa, she couldn't deal with that.

"True, but I am truly speaking to you. So easy to find when you open up your mind to me."

"I didn't do that. The witch did."

"Witch? I'll have to thank her, you've been practically begging to see me for hours."

Cassie shook her head. "No. This is not... I didn't call to you."

Loki laughed, a cruel sound that gripped her spine. "Joanna... it's perfectly understandable to miss me. With me, there is no doubt, just complete domination. You don't have to worry about who knows you're laying with whom. You don't have to worry about Stark's metal contraptions killing you. You just have to worry about me. And I was gentle last time."

"In Austria? Disguised as the priest who kept me from killing myself?"

"I wanted to see the fire in you! That place dulled you."

"That was the point! I didn't want to think, I didn't want to shine, I didn't want to blaze. I just wanted to be left alone to be. Just be. Exist without anyone paying any attention to me and somehow you and Clint both found me."

"You were suffocating in Austria. You were suffocating as Cassandra. You are still barely pulling air into your lungs. You long for the freedom Joanna thrives upon."

She looked to her right, finally allowing herself to look at him. His eyes looked green in this light. "Look, I'm not going to lie... it'd be useless to try that on you. I had fun with you. You let out a part of me that had been dying to breathe since SHIELD took me, and yes, consensual sex with a God is nothing to shake a stick at, but... I don't miss you. I don't want you. I don't even want to be around you. You killed my daughter."

"And gave you a son." He smiled softly and shook his head at her. "Do you know how I know you do want me around, free to see you as I please? You haven't told Thor what I did to Odin."

As the projection disappeared, Cassie looked at the instrument panel on the dash. Confusion washed over her. She'd found it amusing that the Allfather had been tricked by Loki and that Heimdall, who sees pretty much everything, hadn't seen it. She knew that she'd been too desperate to leave Playground when she woke up, but why hadn't she said anything since she'd been back? She hadn't forgotten: she just hadn't mentioned it. "Just means I'm nuts, not that I want you to drop in unannounced," she muttered, getting out of the van and walking toward the store.

"Talking to yourself already, Campbell? That's a sign of poor fortitude," a familiar voice said as she crossed the double doors.

She turned to the vending area and blanched at the sight of Nick Fury, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt and wearing dark sunglasses, drinking a Coke. "Director Fury."

"You aren't SHIELD and I ain't in charge anymore," he said, stepping toward her.

"I-I know, sir. I, uh, just thought... After the way I spoke to you last time... respect is due."

"You didn't say anything that wasn't true, Cassie. I am old and I have bad depth perception."

She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face at the use of her chosen name. "But you have so many years of spycraft under your belt."

"And you can carry Thor around as dead weight. Girl, you woulda kicked my ass."

Cassie smiled wider. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I figured Barton would bring you to the farmstead. Safe place, off the grid. I showed up right as you were pulling onto the main road, followed you. I came in here to get a drink while you argued with yourself in the van." Cassie looked down. "I know the Maximoff girl got you, made you see things. Loki?"

Tears came to her eyes as she just nodded, dumbly. Fury put his hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look at him. When she did, he smiled. "You're the only one who got hit by that chick and wasn't completely down for the count. Your teammates, who include the strongest woman I've ever met and a Viking God, had to extracted by you."

"Guess I have better fortitude than you think."

"Definitely better than you think. You know... Maria Hill sends me reports."

"About me?"

Fury nodded. "Among other things. She said you're putting a lot of effort in. You spend most of your free time training. Says you're ‘almost obsessional’ about being an asset."

"Just don't wanna get anyone killed because I can't handle myself in a combat situation. Fat lot of good I did against Ultron. Got shot in the back by one of Tony's legionnaires before I could touch him. Feel kinda useless."

"Useless?"

"What do I add? I mean, the Avengers already have a revved-up super soldier and an acrobatic weapons expert. I'm like a shitty knock-off version of both of them. I don't have anything..."

"You know, doubt is a perfectly normal, healthy thing, that you need to get the hell over, right now. This is not the time for it. Even if you were a shitty knock-off, you could put down some robots. You are more in control of yourself than some of the strongest-willed motherfuckers I have ever met, so pull your head up and move past whatever that witch made you see."

Cassie chuckled and turned, grabbing a hand basket as she headed further into store. "Wow."

"What?" Fury asked, keeping pace with her.

"No, it's just... I finally understand why you were in charge for so long."

"Why's that?"

"There is something oddly inspiring about a one-eyed man yelling at you to get your shit together." She stopped in front of the sausages and stared at them. "Guess I couldn't expect more than Johnsonville at a Wal-mart. Beer brats, I guess. And beer." She dropped three packs of sausages into the basket and walked toward the beer aisle. "So, how's Phil doing?"

"Don't think Barton would be very happy about you asking after your ex, do you?"

"You're kidding me." Cassie turned to him. "Hill knows about me and Clint?"

"Did you forget that you're working with spies? That you're sleeping with one? You remember what that entails."

"Oh, come on, Nick. It was totally different with Phil. We weren't trying to keep any secrets. It was the most honest relationship Phil had ever been in. He didn't have to hide anything from me. I mean, he did... some." She shook her head and grabbed a box of Guinness. "Clint and I just want something that's ours, you know? We don't want everyone talking and speculating and... being jealous."

"Jealous? You're talking about Steve?"

"I'm talking about Steve," she confirmed. "And Natalia and Phil. Also, there's a deep-seated fear that Mockingbird is still in love with him and she's gonna destroy me over this."

"Mockingbird? Natalia? You haven't just been studying your Ops manual, have you?"

"I started in on those SHIELD files while I was still in Austria. Everything I could learn would better my chances of evasion. Once I got back, it was more 'learn everything I can so that I can survive longer'." She started toward the bakery and stood in front of the racks. "Commercial American bakery's nuzing like Hohenheims bakery. Oh, vell." She grabbed several bags of rolls and headed for the registers.

"Are you coming back to the farm, Nick?"

"Yeah. I'll be right behind you. When you get inside, have the lovely Mrs. Barton send Stark to the barn."

"Yes, sir."

************

As Cassie walked across the grass toward the house, she smiled at Steve and Tony, who were chopping wood in the front. "Glad you're working up an appetite. I'm making lunch."

"Austrian diner food, right? Barton might've mentioned." Tony brought his ax down on one of the logs.

Cassie nodded and jogged inside, dropping the plastic bags on the counter. Clint was beside her almost immediately, he was freshly showered, smelled like a forest. "Hey, you made it back!"

"Today, even. Wanna help me cook?"

"Uncle Clint."

"Yeah, Li?" The little girl waited, a bit impatiently, for Clint to stop looking at Cassie. As soon as his eyes fell on the girl, she started to sign. Cassie watched it in her peripheral vision as she pulled a knife from a knife block and ran soap and water over it. "Yep... I think so... " Clint signed as he spoke his responses to her slightly fumbled sign language. The girl seemed frustrated with a word and resorted to signing each letter.

"Wait, who's Mary?" Cassie asked, slicing through the white onion she picked.

Clint turned to her with an eyebrow raised. "You know Sign?"

"Just the alphabet. There was an accident on 107, so traffic slowed enough for me to pull it up on my phone."

"And you learned ASL alpha in the few minutes you were stuck in traffic?"

"Like it's hard?"

"And now you're quoting Legally Blond at me?"

Cassie grabbed a red pepper and a green one from the fridge. "Never seen it."

He chuckled and turned to the girl. "Lila, we'll continue this conversation later, when there's no one around to eavesdrop."

"I weren't dropping no eaves, Mr. Barton, sir. I was just making lunch," she said, in her best Samwise Gamgee impression. Lila nodded and ran out of the room as Cassie started slicing the peppers. "It's a little early in the relationship for your family to be pushing us down the aisle, don't'cha think?" she asked, quietly.

"Eh, she wants a cousin. Thought you didn't Sign?"

"I caught the double Rs in 'marry', and she pointed at us. Not hard to follow."

"She likes you." Clint grabbed a slice of bell pepper from the cutting board and bit it in half. "And she knows I do, too. She just wants me to be happy, that's all."

"Uh-huh. Hey, Laura," Cassie called out. The brunette woman waddled in, hand secured over her belly. "Nick Fury is in your barn. He requests an audience with Mr. Stark, but Tony isn't one to just do what someone asks. Can you figure out a way to get Tony into the barn, please?"

"Yeah, I think I can do that," she said with a smile.

"Grab the sausages out of the bag for me and grab a pan, cast-iron if you have it, and a broiler pan."

"Broiler pan?"

"Every oven comes with one, Clint. Usually it's a two piece thing, slots in the top to catch drippings in the bottom."

"Oh, that thing. Gotcha," Clint said, digging into a low cabinet by the fridge to pull out a large roasting pan. He put it on the stove before pulling out a cast-iron skillet and handing it to her.

"Nice. Okay. Oil?"

"In the glass squeezy thing, there," Count said, pointing to the counter.

"So articulate, Hawk."

"What can I say?” He shrugged. “Obviously not much."

"Then, why do you talk so much?" Cassie said, clicking the burner on under the skillet.

"Hoping to say something to turn you red again. It's a good look."

"Ja, mein Vater seemed to think so."

"Ich finde dich süß when you mix up your languages. [I think you’re cute when you mix up your languages]” Cassie felt her cheeks heat up. "There's her color," he whispered, leaning into her.

Her eyes flicked towards the living room. "Back off, Hawk. This isn't the time," she said, pouring oil into the skillet. Clint leaned away again, but she could feel his eyes on her. "Put the sausages on the broiler pan. Single layer, like you know what you're doing," she said, grabbing the peppers and onions putting them into the skillet.

Cassie had the oven open, flipping the sausages over when Tony stomped into the house, Steve and Nick following behind. "Are you going to be eating with us, Nick? We've got plenty."

"I've heard good things about your cookin', Miss Campbell. It was one of the things Coulson felt comfortable braggin' on you about."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she said, smiling as she closed the oven door.

"So... what's the thinking, Fury?" Banner asked as Lila ran into the dining room to hand Natasha a watercolor picture.

"Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time. My contacts all say he's building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don't think it's just one thing," Nick said, walking around to the sink to pour himself a glass of water.

"What about Ultron himself?" Steve asked, leaning against the wall.

"Ah. He's easy to track, he's everywhere. Guy's multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit. Still doesn't help us get an angle on any of his plans, though."

"He still going after launch codes?" Tony asked, throwing darts at a board on the wall.

"Yes, he is, but he's not making any headway," Nick answered.

"I cracked the Pentagon's firewall in high school on a dare."

"Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the NEXUS about that," Nick said, starting to cut the rolls Cassie bought for the sandwiches.

"NEXUS?" Steve and Cassie asked.

"It's the world internet hub in Oslo. Every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on Earth," Banner responded.

"So, what'd they say?" Clint asked, examining the fletching of one the darts.

"He's fixated on the missiles, but the codes are constantly being changed."

"By whom?" Tony asked, as Clint threw his darts at the board. Tony looked at him, exasperated as Clint just shrugged, before pulling all three darts from the bulls-eye.

"Parties unknown."

"Do we have an ally?" Natasha asked.

"Ultron's got an enemy, that's not the same thing. Still, I'd pay folding money to know who it is."

"I might need to visit Oslo, find our 'unknown'," Tony said.

"Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that," Natasha grumbled as Nick finished cutting the bread.

"I do. I have you. Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else. You kids had all the tech you could dream up.  Here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission and whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this, laid in a grave. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard," Nick said, sitting down with his water as Cassie pulled the sausages out.

"Steve doesn't like that kind of talk," Natasha teased.

"You know what, Romanoff?" Steve started, faux threateningly. Natasha just smirked.

"So, what does he want?" Nick asked.

Steve looked around as Clint came to sit at the table. "To become better. Better than us. He keeps building bodies."

"Person bodies," Tony responded. "The human form is inefficient, biologically speaking, we're outmoded. But he keeps coming back to it."

Banner walked forward and examined Lila's picture. Natasha looked between the scientists. "When you two programed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed."

"They don't need to be protected, they need to evolve. Ultron's going to evolve."

"How?" Nick asked as he took a drink of his water.

"Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?"

Cassie placed a platter full of sausage and pepper sandwiches on the table and sat next to Natasha. "So, what? Ultron is going to have Helen Cho make him a... a better body?" Everyone looked around at each other, nervously. "Guess we should eat." She reached forward and grabbed a sandwich, but she suddenly didn't feel very hungry.

Clint stood, grabbing a bottle of Guinness and handing it to her. "Anyone else? Might not have another chance."

"Don't talk like that," Natasha said, but she put her hand out for a beer.

************************

Steve walked into the living room as he finished suiting up. "I'll take Natasha and Clint."

"All right. Strictly recon. I'll hit the NEXUS. I'll join you as soon as I can," Tony said, tapping at his wrist.

"If Ultron is really building a body..." Steve started.

"He'll be more powerful than any of us. Maybe all of us. An android designed by a robot."

"You know, I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me," Steve mused.

"I'll drop Banner off at the Tower. Do you mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?" Fury asked.

"She's all yours, apparently. What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. Something dramatic, I hope," Nick said, walking out of the house.

"What about me?" Cassie asked, walking up to Steve and Tony.

"Cass..." Steve started.

"No. Don't even think about leaving me behind. I may be pretty new to this whole 'superhero' thing and I didn't help much against Ultron in New York, but I've got more will, more fortitude than any of you. I pulled myself out of that fugue state..." *Or was the vision simply over* She shook away Loki's voice in her head and kept going. "...and I didn't sulk around about what I saw in that vision. I pulled myself together and then I carried your star-spangled ass off that ship. And then, I went back for Thor and carried his ass out. An action, by the way, that outed me as a superhero to the international news media."

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Which is great, because Hydra is still looking for their lost legacy and Loki is still looking for his queen, so it's awesome to broadcast my whereabouts. And even with all that, with my worst fears playing in my head on repeat since that witch touched me, I still want to help, because that's what I signed up for. As soon as I decided 'Avenger' would look good on my resume, I signed up to put away my shit and focus on everyone else's. So, tell me, boss, where do you need me?"

Steve looked around, then cleared his throat. "Stark?"

"Ever been to Norway, blondie?" Stark asked.

"No, sir," she answered, standing straight.

"It's good. You'll love it. Might need some muscle, anyway. Can't wear the suit everywhere. Go grab yours," Tony ordered.

Cassie nodded and rushed for the room where she'd changed before heading to the store. Clint followed, closing the door behind him as she pulled her super suit off the floor. "Not the way I pictured the first time you grabbed your clothes off of my floor," he joked.

She turned to him and smiled, slightly. "Be careful. Please. Be careful."

"It's a milk run, babe." Clint stepped forward and pushed her hair out of her face.

"No. My trip to the NEXUS is a milk run. Tony's only taking me because I threw a fit. Ultron might be in Seoul. I mean, he's everywhere. So, he's probably gonna be there... with the Maximoffs. Clint... Wanda, she's..."

"I know, Cassie."

"You don't. I saw-"

"Loki. I know. And you liked it, right? That's why you're all messed up." Cassie blinked back tears. "You remember when we first met? Took you for a drink to celebrate and mourn? I know what you're missing."

"It's not missing the mindlessness, Clint. I mean, that's part of it, but... Joanna, I wanted to... to be with him. I had sex with him. I enjoyed it, being with him."

"That's your greatest fear? That you might've enjoyed sleeping with a demigod?" Clint chuckled. "He's a thousand years old and strong enough to give it to you good. I might've even liked screwing him," he joked.

"Clint... why are you so understanding?" she whispered.

"I've had a long life. Done a lot of bad, had a lot of bad done to me. I focus on intentions, mostly. And your intentions are good, even when you're Joanna. Your intentions as Cassie are... good, right?"

"You're amazing."

"Nah. I've just gotten good at hiding the un-mazing parts of me." Clint brushed his lips against hers. "I'll be safe if you will."

"I promise," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. Her super suit rubbed against his cheek as their tongues pushed against each other.

"Where's my lab tech?!" Tony called up the stairs.

Cassie pulled away, balling her clothes up in her hands. "Hold your water, Stark, I'm comin'." She opened the door and bounded down the stairs, three at a time.

"You had plenty of time for that while the rest of us were showering. You chose to shop," Tony said.

"Shut up," she groaned. *Everybody knows.*

"Come on," Tony said, walking out of the house.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

[oneshul]

Kee Teesa: Egyptian Army Interrogation of an Israelite Refugee

Lt. Djer, Duty Officer of the 18th Regiment, Royal Egyptian Cavalry (“Jaws of Anubis,” Chariot borne), leaned back on his cloth-and-wood army field chair and yawned. He got up, scratching his shaven, bald head, and peered out the tent-flap: almost midnight, by the Moon. He frowned—why must he, an Honors Graduate of the Royal Egyptian Military Academy (Heliopolis), always be assigned to night duty, the midnight shift, here at the Army Forward Operations Base? He, who could bear down from a galloping, fast-moving war chariot, and lance a jackrabbit—had he not received honors for Horsemanship at the Academy? He should have been asleep in his tent, alongside Lt. Nefer (who snored), ready to rise at the crack of dawn, to conduct maneuvers with his squadron. All his troopers needed practice. Private Twosret handled a chariot-lance as if it were a harrow from his father’s farm, and Corp. Hotep had fallen out of the chariot—fallen out, could you believe it?—when his starboard horse stumbled during a rough turn.

And now, Djer had to watch the hours move by, slowly, with nothing to do save fill out report-forms on clay tablets, to send back to Royal Military Headquarters, where no one, it was assured, would read them. He yawned, and stretched—when would this end? He—

The tent-flap burst open, to admit Captain Sobek, Commander of Djer’s overall unit, the 22nd Division of Horse (“Rays of Ra in His Glory”), along with Sgt.-Major Yunet, his aide.

Djer snapped to attention: “Officer on deck!” all thoughts of sleep and early rising to field exercises, forgotten. The two privates who were dozing jumped up, as well. Djer knew that the Regiment’s duty, besides field maneuvers, was to prevent the entry of illegal aliens—for that reason, he and his men had been sent to this obscure outpost—it was a wasteland, but crucial for guarding the boundaries of Blessed Mother Egypt.

The Captain returned the salute: “At ease, Lieutenant.” Djer breathed more easily—Sobek was not out to surprise his men and find them derelict of duty; some other military matter concerned him. Removing his helmet, the captain turned and ordered: “Guards—bring in the prisoner!”

Two burly Military Police dragged in an emaciated man clothed in rags—his body was covered with welts; he had crawled though he had crawled through the Field-of-Thorns which the soldiers had used to block the entrance, both to their Army Camp, and to the border itself. There was also a wall, built of sturdy sandstone, ordered specially by Pharaoh Merneptah to keep out “illegals.”

“Kill these vermin on sight,” the Royal Edict had been given to the Army.

Lt. Djer recognized the man as a Hebrew: he was sunburnt—clearly, he had been a pyramid-construction slave, prior to wandering in the desert with Moses the Rebel Hebrew.

These filthy Hebrews, Djer thought, It’s not enough that they nearly destroyed our nation with their plagues, led by their abominable Invisible God; now, must they attempt to re-enter our land?

The Hebrew stood weakly between the MPs, leaning on them; the two muscled soldiers recoiled from him as from something unclean.

Capt. Sobek turned to the Lieutenant: “Go fetch Scribe Nemhet to record the proceedings of this field-command hearing.”

“May the Lieutenant ask respectfully, to what purpose, Sir?” asked Lt. Djer. He knew the captain to be a by-the-scroll officer, but did not wish to do anything that might endanger his future army career.

“I intend to question the prisoner,” returned Capt. Sobek, “We must best understand the mind-set of these savages, to prevent them from invading our kingdom as in Joseph’s day,,” said the captain, “Send for Nemhet, posthaste!” Lt. Djer nodded to one of the privates who stood at attention behind him. The boy raced into the night.

When the scribe entered the tent, soft clay tablet in hand, the captain began: “Here, in the presence of Royal Egyptian Army officers and personnel, in accordance with Emergency Field Directive A-444, I will question this Prisoner, who is suspected of invading an Army base unauthorized. I charge him with spying....

Gripped between the MP’s, the Prisoner began to wail: “I am innocent—have you no water, Kind Sirs? Water, please!”

The captain raised his hand as if to strike; the prisoner fell silent. “Give him water,” Sobek commanded, and the sergeant gave him a clay jug-full. The prisoner gulped it down.

“Not so fast, Hebrew,” said the captain, in a gentler voice, “You will get a cramp.”

The prisoner nodded. “Are you better, now?” asked the captain.

“Yes,” whispered the scrawny Hebrew. Djer could not help but notice how puny the Prisoner seemed, held between the two burly MPs.

How could this ragtag mob of slaves defeat us, the strongest Empire in the world? he thought.

“So. We begin,” said the captain, “Sit the Prisoner down. What is your name, for the record?”

“An it please you, Your Worship,” replied the Hebrew, “I am called Mephiboshet ben Khareoo’Shoshana.”

“You are to address me as Captain,” returned the officer. “So, your father was Egyptian, your mother Hebrew. By Egyptian law, you are a bastard, guilty of mixing the blood of pure Egypt with your pagan race.”

The Hebrew nodded mournfully, “I have lived with this all of my life, shunned by both Hebrew and Egyptian. After the plague of—begging your pardon, Captain—the Firstborns’ Death, I escaped with the Israelites, but they have not accepted me as pure Hebrew. And so, I left the Camp of Moses, and now wish to return to Egypt.”

“You cannot do that, by our laws,” said the captain, sharply, “for you did not apply for refugee citizenship; you are an illegal entrant, and I accuse you of spying.”

The Hebrew whispered, “By the beard of the Lord, I am no spy, but a refugee with no place to dwell. I cry you mercy, Captain. Mercy, please....”

“Describe the condition of Enemy Moses’s camp,” the captain interrupted, and, turning to Lt. Djer, he added, “Headquarters wishes for us to keep track of the escaped enemy-Hebrews. I hear from Headquarters that orders may come down to attack them, in revenge for all the destruction they caused. Why, the shock may have led to Pharaoh Ramesses II’s death.”

Lt. Djer nodded. “May I question the prisoner?” he asked Capt. Sobek. Sobek nodded.

“Prisoner!” said Lt. Djer, “Our scouts have seen a pillar of smoke, pillar of fire, in the midst of your camp. We have also seen lightning and heard thunder, even during a clear, sunlit day. Are you conjurors, to make these strange phenomena appear?”

The Hebrew slumped, wearily. “All that is caused by our God, who commanded our Moses to ascend the mountain called Sinai—”

“What is the strategic value of this mountain?” demanded Capt. Sobek, “Perhaps Rebel Moses is organizing a ragtag force of armed shepherds, to rush down from Sinai and catch us unawares.”

“Sinai is not a Place for war,” said the Hebrew, “It is where our Lord God will deliver to us His sacred Law, a Law of Peace.”

“What law is this?” asked Capt. Sobek, “I know no law save that of Pharaoh Merneptah, All hail our Pharaoh, Light of the East!” The soldiers saluted; the civilian scribe fell to his knees, and did obeisance to his sovereign lord.

“Did all your people receive this—this—Law?” asked the captain, “Answer quickly, and completely, you were best.”

“Some did,” agreed the Prisoner, “but others implored the brother of Moses, High Priest Aaron, to build them a simulacrum of a calf. He resisted, but did so, in the end. And these rebels did bow down and worship.”

“Hm,” said Lt. Djer, “I am surprised that so many have clearly lost faith in your invisible God. What happened when your Chief Magician, Moses, returned and beheld the Calf?”

The Hebrew began to tremble: “Moses ground it to powder. He then ordered his Levite tribe to go through the camp, and slay all those who committed abominations before the Calf. So much blood and slaughter—it horrified me—I prepared to escape the camp—"

“Prisoner!” called out the captain, no stranger to massacres—he himself had led the slaughter of hundreds of Girgashite prisoners and their families, just three moons prior—“But then, if your Moses returned and made peace, why are you here, spying on our troops and weaponry?”

“I—I—” stammered the Prisoner, “I, knowing my half-breed status, felt it better to run away from the camp. I did not wish to die at the hands of Levites; my mother was a Benjaminite.”

Capt. Sobek turned to Lt. Djer: “What say you, Lieutenant? Does this Hebrew’s tale ring true?”

Djer furrowed his brow, in thought: “I am not certain, Captain. He might be speaking the truth, or he might have been sent to spy out our camp, and then return to Magician Moses.”

The captain slammed his hand on the army-desk, causing the scribe to jump.

“We cannot take chances. As Commander and Magistrate of this Forward Operations Base, I rule that this Hebrew is guilty of penetrating our Wall, and invading our land—his illegal status is clear,” he decided, “Take this offal out of my command tent, and execute him by lancing.”

The Prisoner began to wail in fright, but not for long: the MPs dragged him out quickly. The captain and lieutenant began to follow: Egyptian law required them to witness the procedure.

The privates stood on the prostrate prisoners’ hands, and the larger MP readied his spear. There was one short cry, and then silence.

“Good riddance to a spy,” said Capt. Sobek. The lieutenant nodded, though his hands were shaking. He had never before witnessed a drumhead execution. The hot desert sun was rising: the captain returned to the tent to check the scribe’s report, while the lieutenant went to his barracks-tent to sleep for an hour before field maneuvers—if he was able to sleep.

Rabbi David Hartley Mark is from New York City’s Lower East Side. He attended Yeshiva University, the City University of NY Graduate Center for English Literature, and received semicha at the Academy for Jewish Religion. He currently teaches English at Everglades University in Boca Raton, FL, and has a Shabbat pulpit at Temple Sholom of Pompano Beach. His literary tastes run to Isaac Bashevis Singer, Stephen King, King David, Kohelet, Christopher Marlowe, and the Harlem Renaissance.

[lumpy-veev]

Here’s a fanfic requested by @terrariheart!

Diary Entries

Kalo bounced up and down in his seat. He went on an adventure with a real hero today!

A real one!

With a cool mask and superpowers!

“He was so awesome!” he squealed.

“Is that so?” His dad laughed, most of his focus on piloting the starship.

“Yeah!” Kalo nodded furiously. “I watched him fight a villan! Like, they tried to kick him like BOOM, but he then he blocked it like BAM, and then he, like, dissapeared, but then he popped up behind him! Like a ninja!”

“Wow, that does sound cool,” his dad answered.

“I’m gonna be just like him when I grow up!” Kalo exclaimed, deciding right then and there that the only path for him in life was being a hero. He wouldn’t settle for anything else.

“Y'know, I actually have a suprise for you,” his dad chuckled.

“Really?!” Kalo’s eyes lit up.

“Check the compartment under your seat.”

Kalo did as he was told, and pulled out a small, shiny blue notebook with a pretty geometric design sprawling across the cover. A pencil was tucked into the spine.

“I know it isn’t much, but I thought you might like it. You can write exciting things down in the book so you never forget.” His dad smiled.

“Woooaaah,” Kalo admired the way that light glinted off of the cover. “I really, really like it, dad! I’m gonna write in it right now!”

Meeting a real-life superhero was definitely exciting, it had to be the first to go in his book.

So, Kalo began to write.

He would come to use this book a lot in the future. —————————————— Dear Diary,

I met a hero today! A real life, super cool hero! He had a black costume, and a black mask, and a white helmet. He was super-duper nice! He even let me go on an adventure with him! I watched him fight a bad guy. Arcas is gonna be SO jealous when I tell him!

(Below is a messy doodle of what appears to be the aformentioned hero and Kalo holding hands)

P.S. First thing I wrote in my new book!!!! —————————————— Dear Diary,

I met a new friend today! Me and Arcas was playing out in the big field, and there was a new girl! She is pink and her name is Cherie. She is 6 like me! She is really cool.

(Below is a messy doodle of what appears to be Cherie, Arcas, and Kalo playing together) ————————————————– (The writing below is smudged and barely legible)

Dear Diary,

I tried to save her. I really tried. I got the remote. I got the remote, so why did she die? Why did she die? The monster said she wouldn’t die. She wasn’t supposed to die. It was my fault, right? I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t fast enough and she died. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t fast enough I wasn’t fast enough I wasn’t fast enough I wasn’t fast enough

(The writing deteriorates into scribbles, and tearstains riddle the surface of the paper) —————————————– (Handwriting in this entry has significantly improved)

Uh, Dear Diary, I guess,

Geez, I haven’t written in this thing for a long time, ever since…that. Well, 15 years have passed, and I found this thing in a box in my closet when I was cleaning up. Well, I guess I’m gonna be getting back to filling this in again.

Looking back at my earlier “entries,” I guess it’s tradition to leave a doodle.

Sooo

(Below is a cleaner, but still very messy doodle of Kalo sticking out his tongue and holding up the peace sign) ————————————— Dear Diary,

I STILL don’t believe it, but me and Arcas actually got into the army. Apparently, I ranked high enough on the entrance exam to be part of the National Guard! Arcas got scored lower though, so he’s a part of the Adelian troops, which, to be honest, is still pretty great.

Anyways, the only thing that bothers me is that when I went to go report to the Admiral of the Fleet, he struck me as…kinda off. His name is Caesar, and he’s a purple guy. He never once took off his visor while we were talking, and he just had this look in his eye, like he was sizing me up. Maybe it’s just me.

P.S. No doodle today. I’m tired. I’m pretty sure my arms are gonna fall off. ———————————————- (The handwriting below is slightly wobbly)

Dear Diary,

I’m still shaky from what happened.

Okay, so apparently Planet Adeli gets attacked way more than I thought. First week in and there’s already a ScarBlade raid on the west side of the city. I swear to sweet Adelia there were seven different instances where I thought I was going to die. I don’t know how, but the worst injury I have is a cut on my right shoulder. I could have literally lost my head if I was a second slower.

What I don’t get is that the ScarBlade troops attacked a resource convoy to the army that only the higher-ups know about, and I really hope it’s a coincidence, but for some reason, Caesar never showed up at the fight.

(Below is a doodle of Kalo running from what seems to be a ScarBlade Soldier) —————————————— Dear Diary,

It’s true, I saw it. Caesar is acually a traitor. He’s the reason ScarBlade attacks are so frequent. He’s the reason why the ScarBlade troops always know where to hit. I can’t believe it. I was coming in early for my morning report, and lo and behold! There he was! The General, the Adelia-damned GENERAL OF THE SCARBLADES, was right there in his office! I don’t think they saw me, or knew that the door wasn’t completely closed. I KNEW there was something wrong with him!

I don’t think they notice me liatening in around the corner. —————————————— Dear Diary,

A lot happened today.

I don’t know how the hell I’m still alive with all my limbs still attached.

There was an attack on the Main Plaza, which would be fine, if it weren’t for the fact that the Monthly Debate was also today. It wasn’t even a regular Monthly Debate. The Governor himself wanted watch it.

I bet Caesar was the one who tipped off the enemy, they wouldn’t have cared if they didn’t know.

That isn’t even the craziest part.

During the attack, people were scattered all over the place in a panic. The ScarBlade General had the Governor cornered, and my legs just started moving.

The next thing I know, I had tackled quite possibly THE STRONGEST MEMBER OF THE SCARBLADE ARMY. I told the Governor to run while I dealt with him. While I tangled with him, I realized three things.

1. He’s a general, thus probably has 500x the fighting experience that I have 2. I’m a newbie who’s barely had this job for over two months 3. He had a REALLY BIG KNIFE

Long story short (because my memory is shot after that), Arcas arrived along with the rest of the Adelian troops and drove all of the enemies away. The Governor thanked me for saving him, but at that point I was just running on auto-pilot. I’m pretty sure my bloodstream is still 98% adrenaline.

He said something about a ceremony for awarding me. I wonder how that’s gonna go.

(Below is a doodle of Kalo, who is lying on his side in the fetal position)

P.S. Throughout the entire battle, Caesar was nowhere to be found. When the Governor questioned him about it, he said he was “mixed up in personal buisness.” Right. ———————————————— Dear Diary,

I have just been titled the God of War. I am basically the guardian of this planet. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything. Sweet Adelia, this all happened so fast. I have had this job for exactly two months, one week, and three days, and I already have all THIS happening.

The Governor said a lot of things during the ceremony, like how someone my age and rank was able to have the courage to go toe-to-toe with the leader of the enemy, and how I would be the youngest Adelian in history to recieve this title.

Despite everything, the ceremony actually went really well, and if I’m being honest, hearing all those people cheer my name is actually kinda nice.

After the ceremony, two people came to congratulate me.

The first one was Caesar. The experience was…less than comfortable.

He said the usual things, like congratulating me for getting the title, blah blah blah. Then he said, and I quote:

“But having a higher rank can paint a bigger target on your back, y'know? So you might wanna look out for yourself.”

I’m pretty sure that he knows that I know.

The second person who congratulated me was Arcas, and that was way better. He asked if I wanted to go out and get drinks to celebrate, but I said no.

You see, compared to him, I’m a bit of a lightweight, and every time we go out to drink, we always somehow end up having a drinking contest. The last thing I need is to deal with a hangover.

He was cool with it, which is a relief, because I was kinda worried he’d take it the wrong way. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good guy and my best friend, but he’s also a bit of an idiot.

Anyways, speaking of Arcas, I’m not the only one rising up the ranks. Arcas said a high-ranking officer is letting him do a retest of the Enterance Exam! There’s a chance he could be in the National Guard with me!

Well, I’m tired now. This is the longest entry I’ve written and I need to get some sleep.

(Below is a small doodle of what looks to be a badge with a symbol on it)

P.S. I’m going to start compiling evidence on Caesar. The longer someone as corrupt as him is in a high rank, the more comprimised the saftey of the planet becomes. ————————————————- Dear Diary,

Caesar asked to have a private talk with me in his office today. So I went, since he technically still outranked me.

“Arcas is going to be added into the National guard soon,” he said, and he asked what I thought about that.

“I look forward to being able to work with a close friend, sir,” I replied. He chuckled a little and went “Is that so?”

It was at this moment I was sure something was off.

Then Caesar asked what I thought of Arcas. So I told him exactly what I thought.

“He’s passionate, loyal, and a good fighter, albeit a little slow sometimes.”

“Is he gullible?” Caesar asked. Now this question was just out of the blue. So I asked him why he wanted to know. Then everything went South.

“I just wanted to know if he’d make a good scapegoat,” he said, nonchalantly.

“Pardon?” I wanted to know if I heard him right, because if I did, that means he isn’t even trying to hide it anymore. Of course, I didn’t hear wrong.

“I’m sure you heard me right. I know you know what I mean,” Caesar was smiling.

“It’s funny that you think you can do anything against me. You can’t do a single thing.”

And he was right, that’s why he’s said so much. I don’t have evidence of any sort, so if I just accused him, I’d be written off as crazy at best. I was compltely cornered

So I ran. I turned around and ran right out of the office.

After that, Arcas told me which high-ranking officer gave him the retest. Unless there is another “gruff, purple admiral” in the army that I don’t know about, he’s talking about Caesar.

I can’t let him get into the National Guard. ——————————————— Dear Diary,

Today was supposed to be the day that Arcas joined the ranks of the elite along with me. That didn’t happen though. I couldn’t let him in. I wasn’t about to let him become Caesar’s scapegoat. So I framed him. I framed him for leaking military secrets, something he’d never do.

God, it all feels so bad.

When he got dragged away, he had this horrible, betrayed look on his face. I hope I did the right thing. I don’t want to lose him, not like I did with her.

Now I need to explain things to his parents, maybe get them somewhere safe.

P.S. This is probably gonna be the last entry. Something big’s gonna happen soon, I can feel it. ————————————————

“Hey, Careful S, is this your diary?”

Kalo pulled a small, purple note book out of a box. The two of them were currently in the middle of tidying up their room.

“Uh…yeah,” Careful S. mumbled, feeling his face flush. “Can-can I have that?”

Kalo laughes.

“Hah! Don’t worry, I’m not gonna read it!” He passes the notebook over to him.

“Y'know, I used to have a diary,” Kalo smiled, but it quickly fell. “Before it got…destroyed, along with…the rest of my planet.”

The two of them lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

“Wanna know what the first entry in my entry was?” Kalo blurted out.

“Sure,” Careful S. replied.

“It was actually about something I did on Planet XingXing…” Kalo proceeded to talk about an adventure he had as a kid, though the deeper he got into the story, the more familiar it all sounded.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. That clingy, blue-haired kid he met during his trip back in time. That was Kalo.

“Now that I think about it,  the hero I met reminds me a lot about you now,” Kalo mused, completely oblivious.

Then Careful S. began to laugh. He laughed at the ridiculousness of of the situation, and about the fact that Kalo used to be so spunky as a child.

Kalo looked at him in confusion. Seeing him laugh was an extremely rare sight.

“What’s so funny?”

“The hero you met? That actually was me.”

[hogwarts--imagines]

Jet Black Heart

GIF NOT MINE

Bucky X Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fluff, No?

Request: NOPE! I thought this would be a good idea for you lovely people. I just realized I have an addiction to writing Bucky Barnes.... Oh well.... Enjoy!

 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4

1943

I went through the same training as Peggy Carter and me and her were stationed together during the war. I met Sergeant Barnes and we formed a relationship. He was definitely a ladies man, I could tell by the way he talked to me. He tried hard to take me out and I played hard to get. Until the day he was taken by Hydra and we never saw him for a while.

Then along came Captain America, Steve Rogers. The one Peggy told me about. With the serum in him, he was the fastest, strongest, soldier there was. He came to preform and when the men treated him poorly he left the stage and learned about Sergeant Barnes disappearance . Peggy and Howard Stark helped him fly towards the Hydra base.

It was the longest night/day of my life. While Peggy was getting yelled at by the general I was helping a nurse hold a man down to stitch him up. I didn’t even notice the commotion going on outside the tent until I heard Barnes yell

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America.”

I made sure the nurse was done before I ran out of the tent and made my way through the crowd and into his arms.

“You’re okay” I hugged him.

“I didn’t think you would notice” He smirked. I straightened myself as I backed up.

“That’s not funny.” I folded my arms.

“Were you scared doll?” He was still smirking, but I could see the hurt in his eyes.

“There wasn’t anyone here that bothered me, it got quiet.” I forced a smile.

We had a special relationship. We grew closer since then. We planed on going out after the war, starting a life together, everything. We kept our relationship a secret so we wouldn’t get in trouble, up until the day he fell.

The worst day of my life, was that day. Steve died not long after, putting the plan down to save the world. Peggy and I spent months together trying to grieve and find Steve. Howard came close, by finding the Tesseract.

Howard decided he wanted to try to recreate the serum. Wanting to try to use the Serum to find a cure for something. Using Steve’s blood. Once he was able to recreate it he needed a test subject and no one fit the requirements he wanted.

“Maybe try a female?” I asked folding my arms, earning a weird look from Peggy and Jarvis.

“Now why would I do that?” He looked up at me, thinking of the possibilities.

“Well, none of the men you looked at fit the requirements. The serum isn’t an exact match, but maybe it would work with a woman more than it would with a man?” I shrugged “I mean you’re the scientist, you would know”

“You my darling, are amazing” Howard smiled “Now we just need to look for a female.”

“Found one” I stood up straight. “Me”

“No” Peggy folded her arms

“I read the requirements, I meet them perfectly and so do you. Would you like to do it?” I asked her, she shook her head no “How many women are there that fit it? Not many and they are hard to come by.”

“Are you sure you’d want to do this?” Howard asked me.

“Got nothing to lose and nothing to gain” I folded my arms.

And so it began. I was given the serum and it worked perfectly. Word got out to the government that there was another human with the serum, Howard didn’t want them testing on me like a lab rat. We decided it would be best to hide me. Howard had an experiment of his own he wanted to do and that was to see if freezing me, which he believed is what happened to Steve, would keep me alive because of the serum. So with my permission, I was frozen, safe from the government and the world, with the promise of being unfrozen in a year.

--

Three years ago

I had been frozen for 68 years. To say I was pissed was an understatement. Howard never unfroze me. Apparently unfreezing me in a year would have killed me. Learning from this, he decided to wait longer. The file ended with him waiting 10 more years. Only for him to die in a car crash.

When SHIELD found me and brought me up to date with the new world, I decided it would be best to live a quiet life. I made them promise to keep the truth about me locked away. I wanted nothing to do with the fast, crazy world.

I moved to Queens and started my own antique shop. Something I always wanted to do. I had a lot of things from the way before the 40s. I installed a hidden room in the building in the upstairs apartment. I had a training room, I also had guns in every room, in a holster under a table. I wanted a quiet life, I just needed my own protection.

I visited Peggy once a week at the nursing home. I carefully avoided Steve Rogers. I learned from Nick Fury that they found him froze  a few years after I was unfrozen. Nick wanted me to come out to the world, but I still refused. Even when New York was under attack. I fought, secretly, keeping the aliens away from the civilians that were trapped in a building, until Captain America showed up and I was able to leave unnoticed. So my secret was safe.

“Mornin’ Rose” I greeted the old woman as she entered my shop.

“Good morning dear, I just stopped by to bring you some cookies” She smiled as she slowly walked towards me, cane and container in her hands.

“Here, let me help you” I walked towards her and helped her to a chair.

“Have you watched the news yet?” She asked after I came back with some tea.

“I usually don’t until after lunch” I sat down next to her. She was the only person that came in, in the mornings.

“They’re saying something about SHIELDS leaked files” She gave me a stern look.

“What?” I froze. Rose was the only person that knew of my true identity outside of SHIELD and Peggy. She was the one who sold me the building. She even helped me adjust to everything. the city believed I was her granddaughter.

“Y/n, you need to stay hidden. Leave town if you have too. Once your file lands in the wrong hands they will come looking.” She gave me a worried look.

“We’ll just have to wait till that day comes” I folded my hands together.

---

Now

So far I was safe. I was almost caught by Steve at Peggy’s funeral a year ago but I managed to go unnoticed. Apparently Steve was fighting with Tony Stark about the Winter Soldier, Steve became a war criminal and was on the run.

Somewhere along the way they sorted things out and Steve and everyone who fought with him were now living in the new compound Tony had built, the Winter Soldier was even invited. How do I know this? Tony Stark.

I was setting up my shop when a slightly familiar face walked in. Tony Stark. In my mind I thought it was Howard. I kept my cool and greeted the man.

“Good morning sir” I smiled as I set a glass vase down.

“Nice little place you got here in Queens” He looked around, snapping his fingers.

“Thank you, been in the family for years. Grandma Rose passed it along to me when she got ill” I half smiled. “God bless her soul.” Rose had passed a year ago, the closest person to me was gone. I promised her I would keep the place running for as long as I could.

“Sorry for your loss, y/n” He said my name. Not the name on the tag, which read Lily. I was now standing by the cashier, hand next to the gun under the table, ready to shoot.

“What do you want Stark?” I asked as I held the gun up to him, aiming it at his head, he held his hand up which hand a metal glove on in and a light in the middle.

“I came across your file. One of my dads experiments that SHIELD took over after he had died.” Tony moved slightly closer. “Wait till you hear what caused his death.” He had a look of hurt in his eyes “Anyway, after the files were leaked, yours never got out to the world, as it was only kept as a paper file. So when I was going through them, I found yours. Now, I don’t know much about you, but you were one of the experiments, aside from  Steve Rogers, my dad never stopped talking about. Trying to figure out how to unfreeze you without the serum killing you. So why did you stay hidden?”

I didn’t know what to say. I was shocked, relieved that even though I was figured out, I didn’t have to constantly look over my shoulder anymore.

“I.. I wanted a normal life. Waking up in the wrong time, was not planned. I was supposed to be asleep for 3 something years and look at where I am. Years past that. I just wanted to relax.” I lowered the gun and he put his hand down, the metal glove turned into a bracelet.

“I respect that.” He gave me a small smile “But I’m not the only one who found you.”

“Where you followed?” I asked tilting my head, grabbing my gun tightly.

“No. A Hydra goon was in the compound and found you. So I came to get you before they did.” He turned towards the door. “I want to protect you, so please come with me.”

I reluctantly left. Grabbing my guns and important belongings I may have. Taking the picture of Sergeant Barnes off my dresser, I hurried out of the building.

We drove a while until we arrived at a compound. Tony gave me a small tour of the facility. Then he explained everything that happened when SHIELD fell. He didn’t give me the name of the Winter Soldier, wanting me to learn everyone’s name from them themselves.

We walked into a living room. Everyone turned towards Tony and I. I met eyes with Steve Rogers right away. Confusion in his eyes, he came over to me ad gave me a hug.

“I’m really sorry about Peggy” I whispered into his ears before I pulled away. Steve backed up and looked at Tony who had a smile planted on his face.

I looked around at everyone. One person who didn’t look at me had his back to me, reading something in his hands. Something about his posture seemed familiar. He had long black hair, broad shoulders, muscly arms, one was a metal arm. Tony cleared his throat loudly causing the man to look up.

I froze. His eyes met mine and studied me for a minute. How could it be? Steve watched him die. So how is he sitting right here? His icy blue eyes starring into my y/e/c eyes. I worked up the courage to speak, with tears in my eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

Tags: @phiauniverse

[lvgvs]

Rikar Brevil lounched himself onto a barrel at the edge of the training grounds, back against the wall, straw locked between his lips. Sky could feel the Khoisani's eyes upon them but he was not sure if the other followed the soldier's steps so carefully or those of the prince in front of him. 

Another sigh, another wrong move. If this had been a real fight he might have been able to disarm Lysander within minutes, but he was holding back, chosing each step carefully. He was here to protect the prince and not hurt him in a training session. This had been a terrible idea to begin with. Sky did not understand why Lysander had been so hellbend on sword-training. He was too new at court to pick up on the subtle changes in mood and direction the people here went through. He had not been here during the assassination attempt but if he was any good at judging characters he might grasp the meaning behind Lysander's anger to some small extent. Yet still, this place was different than Alfea, and when a new King ascended the throne rules were bound to shift.

By the gods, he missed home. 

It was only a split second, a memory that flashed before his eyes, but it was enough to give the man in front of him an opening and - to his surprise - Lysander used it, sword coming forward. Sky managed to block the other's move in the last moment and a grin appeared on his face. This was still far from training with Riven back at home, but it was getting closer to a real test of his skill. 

"He's holding back, Lys", Brevil shouted at them from afar, disdain clear upon his tongue. The prince stepped back, tip of his sword sliding through the dirt. He seemed disappointed. 

Sky felt an urge to vindicate himself, but here it was not his time to speak, here he was only a soldier. He had to wait until Lysander spoke first. After all the blonde in front of him would be king in a matter of days. 

"I need to train", Lysander finally said apparently now lost in his own memories, "I need to be better prepared..."

"Kervan would disagree with this as much as soldier-boy", Brevil was on his feet now, beside them in a few heartbeats. His eyes wandering from one to the other. Sky did not like these eyes, they knew too much, more than him. And he was a guardsman, he was supposed to know things, to understand them. 

Silva would be disappointed. 

This seemed to be his chance to change the subject, get out of this dreadful situation and so Sky chimmed in: "I am sure Sir Kervan would have been a way better sparing partner than me, my lord, I truly regret that I could never meet him. But even when I am sworn to follow your orders, I must hold back - here and now - so no harm can come to you"

"You think you can beat me so easily?", his tone was still hard but there seemed to be the shadow of a smile hiding in the corner's of his lips as Lysander spoke. 

Sky tilted his head, pondering on a reply, "I was trained to kill, my Lord, not to play pretend"

Beside him Brevil sucked in air and chuckled. He feared he had angered the prince but instead Lysander now smiled for sure. "And who has trained you, if I might ask?"

"I was trained at Alfea", the reply came quick and short, a question he was proud to answer. For only the best, the strongest, the bravest, went through Alfea's education. It was a badge of honor, the only thing he had to his name so far from home, yet still tainted by the shadow of the one that came before him. 

"We know that", Brevil scoffed, "But by whom?"

"Headmaster Saul Silva trained me", Sky did his best to keep gaze and attention on the prince, "He basically raised me after my father died"

There was a moment of silence and then Lysanders questioning voice again: "Your father passed away? How old were you?"

Sky swallowed the pain, it was dull and shallow, worn out after years of use, "I was a child, too small to remember him. He was a war hero, and I am proud to be his son" How many times has he parroted these words already? How many times has he told the stories, the pieces and bits they allowed him to know? My father is a shadow, more legend than human. But he never said those words, never spoke the truth. 

"I see", there was something in his eyes, Lysander turned away too fast for Sky to really see, but it seemed as if stormclouds were slowly creeping into the blue. Rikar saw it, too, for he gave their future king a mysterious glance. 

Sky did not understand, but he was not here to understand. Silva's voice, the voice of his father, echoed in his head, a soldier must follow his orders. Always. And so he rolled his shoulders back, hand on the pommel of his sword, and followed Lysander, no matter where they were going.