#the last one was about the tree and i just transitioned out of the dream with tears *streaming* down my face
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I just had two dreams in quick succession that had me groggily coming out of them with tears in my eyes. Both of them centered around some symbol that was clearly of importance to me, but that I don't actually recognize. One I saved from its own guilt so I could embrace it again, and the other I tried to nurture back to health when she was on her last limb. Both dreams spoke to how much I cared about the figures in them— but I don't know that fox, I don't know that tree. Why did I want to reconnect with them so badly? Why did I want to save them so badly?
#I'm shaken#the last one was about the tree and i just transitioned out of the dream with tears *streaming* down my face#i was trying to replant it when it was barely even a shred of what it once was. just a section of its trunk i could hold in my hands#and i was receiving help from someone else who's opinion i valued. she didn't care that we were digging a hole in her yard#she knew it was important to me#i had so much history with that tree. it had clearly been in my life for a long time#same for the fox#he was represented first in the dream as a dog my grandparents used to have#but he didn't remember me#so i went on a journey to try and find the real him so i could talk to him#and when i found him he was this huge shadowy fox that wanted to hide from me#he actually sang? as i convinced him to let it go so i could hug him again#and the song was beautiful. a part of it is still echoing in my head as if it were real#but what does it all mean?
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Snapshots of Love
Five Hargreeves x reader
A/N: Hey guys surprise surprise. I'm posting another one shot today because unfortunately I won't be able to do it tomorrow. Have a great day :)
Warnings: none
Five Hargreeves sighed as he walked into the cozy living room of their home, rubbing his eyes after a long day of work. As he stepped inside, he noticed a familiar scene that instantly brightened his mood: his wife Y/n sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a scatter of old photo albums.
Y/n looked up from a particularly thick album and smiled warmly at Five. "Hey, I found something interesting in the attic today."
Five raised an eyebrow and walked over to her, intrigued. "Is that so? What did you find?"
She patted the spot next to her, and he sat down, leaning in to see the open pages filled with photographs. "I found this old photo album. It’s full of pictures from our life."
Five’s eyes softened as he gazed at the album, a flood of memories rushing back. "I remember that album. I didn’t think we still had it."
Y/n chuckled and flipped through the pages, revealing snapshots of their journey together. "Here, look at this one."
The photo showed a much younger Five and Y/n, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, grinning from ear to ear. Five was holding a map upside down, looking completely lost, while Y/n was laughing hysterically.
“I remember that trip,” Five said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I insisted we didn’t need a guide, and we ended up lost for hours.”
Y/n laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, but we found that amazing little café because of it. The one with the best croissants we’ve ever had.”
Five nodded, his smile widening. “You’re right. That was worth getting lost for.”
As they continued to flip through the pages, each photograph told a story. There was a picture of them at a Halloween party, dressed in glamorous outfits. Another showed them at a garden party, looking completely out of place yet having the time of their lives.
Five paused at a picture of them in Rome, sitting on the steps of a temple at sunrise. “That sunrise was incredible,” he murmured, tracing the edges of the photograph with his finger.
Y/n’s eyes sparkled with nostalgia. “I remember. We stayed up all night just to see it. It felt like the whole world was still asleep, and it was just us.”
The photos transitioned to more recent memories: their wedding, their first house, and the birth of their children. Five lingered on a picture of them holding their newborn daughter, Maddie, both looking exhausted yet indescribably happy.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” Five said softly, his voice tinged with emotion.
Y/n nodded, her eyes misting over. “We have. And look at us now. We’ve built a beautiful life together, despite everything.”
They turned to a picture of their son, Milo, his mischievous grin eerily reminiscent of Five’s. Five chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s going to be a handful, isn’t he?”
Y/n laughed, squeezing Five’s hand. “Just like his dad.”
The last page of the album held a recent photo: the entire Hargreeves family, including five’s siblings, gathered around a Christmas tree, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.
“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Five said, his voice filled with gratitude. “But I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.”
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with love. “Neither would I. We’ve made some incredible memories, and I can’t wait to make even more with you.”
Five wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Here’s to many more adventures, Y/n.”
They sat there in comfortable silence, the album open in front of them, reminiscing about the past and dreaming of the future. Five pressed a gentle kiss to Y/n’s temple, feeling a deep sense of contentment.
As they closed the album, Five looked at Y/n with a tender smile. “Thank you for finding this, Y/n. It’s a reminder of how strong we are together.”
Y/n leaned into him, her heart full. “Always, Five. No matter what the future holds, we’ll face it together.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the memories of their past, Five and Y/n felt more connected than ever, ready to take on whatever adventures life had in store for them next.
#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#number five imagine#number five x reader#the umbrella academy#number five#number five one shot#five hargreeves
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okay so I always wanted to work on a show soundtrack so here's some songs I would put in s2 because since its probably maybe not gonna happen these can be canon in my head
Stupid Cupid by Connie Francis - okay so imagine if you will. The episode starts out jarring, maybe some payneland smooching out of nowhere, makes you go back to the last episode thinking you missed a scene. But then Edwin opens his eyes, he's lying on the ground or something, and is immediately thrust into the middle of a fight scene(this is where the song starts playing). He had just been temporarily knocked out and had some dream sequence or something idk. The fight scene is in a fancy restaurant or smth and it's close to Valentine's day and it's all decorated with hearts and stuff. This song is diegetic, playing in the restaurant.
Flaws by Bastille - I'd probably put it during end credits/end of the episode. It feels very transitional to me. It's a song on the Charles playlist so of course it's gonna play after a scene with Charles heavy lore or something. Maybe Charles's dad dies, and the song starts at the beginning of the funeral scenes. Then, long after everyone's already left, Charles goes and stands in front of the gravestone and his mom is just there kneeling in the grass in front of him and doesn't know he's there and yeah. It's like, the start of Charles's Actually-finding-peace-and-confronting-trauma arc or smth.
Girls on Film by Duran Duran - good for a montage of like Crystal adjusting to having rich, showy parents. She thinks maybe if she helps them out with their big projects, which she assumes the old her didn't do, maybe they'll start seeing her and caring about her like parents should. Going to grand openings and being photographed/interviewed, being in the public sphere all the sudden. Crystal's overcompensating for being a major jerk in her past life and is now bending over backwards to be nice to everyone (which, from experience, isn't exactly healthy either)(aka she's gone the "obsess-over-being-good-enough" route that Charles's gone down)(yikes).
The Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen - I honestly have no vivid images for this one. I just like the song, I think it matches the mood of the show. Maybe something about Crystal and David? A final confrontation? Cus I saw someone (I'm sorry I forgot who) say they thought it would be interesting if Crystal's powers get "contaminated" by David cus he's still buried by the tree. So like a final standoff.
Swan Upon Leda by Hozier OR Eurydice by Eugénie - I think s2 would be more about Charles' journey the way s1 was more about Edwin BUT i'm also curious about Edwin's life. Something happens where Edwin maybe ends up at his old house, or relives his memories and it's all in slow motions and more calm than Charles's in ep4. They're not all bad, but Edwin was different and outcasted and the likes. George Rexstrew said himself that he thought Swan Upon Leda described Edwin really well, but also Eurydice gives off a sort of melancholy floatiness that fits with a boy 100+ years dead reliving an upbringing that now seems to foreign to him, and yet is ingrained in every part of himself.
Since listening to music is my #1 hobby, I will probably find more songs down the line and add on, but this is what I got for now.
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#edwin payne#payneland#crystal palace#wow this is a lot of words i wrote just now#i imagine edwins memories to have willow trees and fog coming off lakes and a big white estate
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~[INDEPENDENT ONE-SHOTS]
[THE BAD BATCH]– "ONE HUG AWAY"
HUNTER/F READER 💖💔
TRAVELLING WITH THE BATCH FOR QUITE SOME TIME NOW, HUNTER AND YOU HAVE GROWN TO BE THE BEST OF FRIENDS. BUT FRIENDS DON'T FEEL LIKE YOU DO AFTER JUST ONE –OR MAYBE TOO MANY– HUGS, RIGHT?
I JUST WANTED AN EXCUSE TO HUG HUNTER OKAY?
WARNINGS: PTSD–EXPLICIT WAR NIGHTMARES (BLOOD&FAMILY LOSS) IN THE FIRST PART 💔 (CAN SKIP IF YOU WANNA), OTHERWISE PURE FLUFF 💖.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You have a recurring nightmare. Sometimes it's just the smell; smoke and ashes, and the rotting skin of the deceased bodies that pile around you being burnt. Your nose scrunches in your sleep and you turn to your side, trying to get rid of the stench of blood and death. It doesn't usually work; and it doesn't this time, either.
Sometimes it progresses to images. Flashes of endless battalions of droids and endless battalions of clones; mixed with your own people in between, the numbers of the three groups reducing drastically each day the war drags on. It used to be beautiful, your planet, with it's peculiar blue grass and vibrant flowers; tall delicate trees and a fascinating wildlife. Now everything is mutted to orange, grey and black; fire and the shattered debris of the capital left behind.
The images turn real with sounds. It's a slow transition. It starts as a distant distorted echo, as if you were listening to something underwater. Then it blasts; roaring in increasing intensity until your ears ring and you shake unconsciously in your sleep, trashing around in your bunk.
Screams. Orders. Cries. Begging for help. Tears in your eyes. Smoke. Fire. Blood, dripping from the open gash of your shoulder and the shot wound on your side. Where are they? You can't see them. Are they safe? Are they...?
You shout their names. The tears keep streaming down your face, wetting your cheeks in real life too. You whimper in your sleep, your body shaking in place.
You can't see them again. You beg not to. But the "you" in your nightmare turns around, slowly, almost recreatively; and then...
"No!" You wake up crying, no restraint whatsoever in how you do.
You weren't even aware of it; of the way your body replicated the same emotions of that damned day of your past while sleeping in your bunk in the Marauder, surrounded by your boys, the family you have now.
You take a deep breath –a weak, stuttering thing–. Your hands quickly find their way to the collar of your t-shirt, tugging it down harshly to expose the scar on your shoulder. Your eyes flicker over every inch.
Another
deep
breath.
Your heartbeat hammers in your chest. Your trembling hands slowly pull up the end of the shirt to reveal your side as well; another scar etched in place.
You touch them. You breathe. You're safe. That had been the past; and while your loss had been heartbreaking and terrible, you were not alone in your present. You had the Batch; you were not back there.
Your breathing pattern starts to slow; your heartbeat still protesting madly in your chest. You let your shirt drop back to place and sigh, still sitting in the middle of your bunk. You take a glance around. You hope you haven't woken up any of them; Maker knows they need the sleep, after last night. You specially hope you haven't startled...
Hunter. He's laying on his bunk with his torso propped up on his elbows; gaze stady and intent on your shape. You can barely see him in the darkness of the room; just his siluete and the weight of his heavy stare. He knows. He can hear your heartbeat, your breathing. He could hear your quiet whimpers and cries, before, maybe even smell your tears. Hell, he can probably guess what the dream was all about. After all, he had been the one to help her escape the wrath of the Separatists. He had seen the destruction of her planet, too.
A powerful need to go to him wrecks you. Your fingers tremble, and a choked sound threatens to pour out of your lips. You hesitate for just a second. Hunter and you have never really been that close before –fellowship, fondness and polite respect, sure, but not that level of raw affection–; and you don't want to bother him. Or make him feel weird. Or like he has to take care of you out of duty as the good human being he is but not really wanting to do so. But you need him. You do.
You cross the small space between both of your bunks as noiseless as posible, wavering on your tip-toes. He tracks every one of your movements; chin tilting up slightly to look up at you when you finally stand in front of him. You play with your own hands for a moment; feeling uncertain and restless in the expectant silence. You can see him a tiny bit better now; long hair –a bit of a mess without his bandana on–, sharp profile and impossibly magnetic eyes. He's always being so good to you...
You feel yourself starting to shake again –your emotions swirling inside your mind–; but it all stops with Hunter's movement as he pulls the covers back with one hand in a clear invitation to share his bed for the night. You make a small needy uncontrolable sound with your throat; and scramble to crawl in his bunk besides him without much thought.
Hunter's body is incredibly firm and warm. You move for a few seconds while trying to find the best position against him; quickly setting for your cheek pressing into his chest and your nose hiding in his neck, one arm wrapped around him and both legs respectfully on top of the thin matress inches away from his. Hunter make's a deep humming sound of his own and his right hand slowly presses against the middle of your back; just a reassuring presence that without words messages "i'm here". You know. He always is.
You take in his comforting familiar scent and sigh. You're too tired to give much thought to the fact that you're actually hugging Hunter; and dark memories replaced in his safe embrace, you take no time in drifting back again into unconsciousness.
Hunter stays awake for a while; making sure your nightmares don't return before going back to sleep as well, getting used to the strange feeling of being this close to you. It's new; and nicer than he'd like to admit to himself.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The second time you hug him is a relief-driven action that holds no pre-planed thought at all. You had been waiting for news of the Batch for weeks now, having to stay back on Pabu after breaking your arm in the last mission; forced to watch them go on their own. It hadn't gone right for them either –the Empire smelling their trace and making their trip twice as long and with no coms available, even with Tech's security measures–. You had nearly picked your nails off; and a somehow un-nervous Phee standing next to you and chuckling to herself for whatever mysterious reason you couldn't care to find out had definitely not helped.
You're running towards them the moment the Marauder touches the ground. Wrecker's the first to walk the ramp; and though you care for him dearly, it's not him you jump towards.
Hunter has no other option than to hold you tightly against his chest in surprise when you crash into him. The force of your desperate hug makes him stumble –definetly not expecting that kind of welcome from you–; but he quickly gains his footing and carefully and almost hesitantly hugs you back.
"You should be more carefull with that arm" he points out, voice deep and roughned up by the tiredness and dehydratation close to your ear. "A cast doesn't give you inmunity".
You chuckle, tightening your one-arm hug against him once before taking a deep relieved breath in and stepping back. You tilt your head to look up into Hunter's dark chocolate eyes. He looks exhausted, but still holds a firm and gentle aura. He's always the composed soldier; and you admire him for that.
"No, and that's why I've mastered the one-side tackle" you joke, eying quickly the rest of the Batch and softening your glance. "I'm glad you're back and safe, Hunter".
His eyes fill with warmth and affection at your sweet, sincere tone. A fleeting thought passes through your head, noticing the difference between amicable fondness and this newfound emotion shining in his gaze. His hand briefly squeezes your un-injured shoulder once, close enough to your old scar that it somehow makes it burn. You wouldn't have been able to take your eyes of him even if you tried to.
Hunter pulls his hand back and offers a tiny tired smile.
"I'm glad to be back too".
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The physical contact with Hunter continues to grow in the following month; until it becomes a natural expected thing, a helping hand or a brush of arms here and there.
Hunter's the one to actually give you the third hug. It's one night when you all say your goodbyes to each other and prepare to get to your respective apartments for the night that happens. The people in Pabu had been kind enough to offer a twin set for you lot; having divided yourself in boys and girls. Hunter bends down to give Omega a hug; turning right after to you and enveloping your figure in his arms as well.
You freeze momentarily –though not in disgust–; your heartbeat speeding up slightly at the surprising –and unusal– gesture. Yeah, you've hugged Hunter yourself twice now; but he has never been one to initiate contact himself, maybe too polite for that.
It's him who realises what he's done, stepping back with a confused expression on his face and pushing his long hair back in a shy selfconscious tick.
"Oh, um... I don't know why I did that. My bad" he shrugs it off, offering a sheepish smile, and you chuckle at his reaction.
Not so composed this time.
"That's alright, Hunter. I don't mind. You're a good hugger" you point out.
His expresion turns into amusement, and he shows his signature side smirk. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. He's one of a motherfucker atractive man. Future girlfriend will be ecstatic to have him.
"Am I, now?"
You both laugh softly, and he decides it's time to leave you so you can have some time to rest. They're going on a mission tomorrow, and he needs you bright and early.
"Good night, mesh'la" he tells you, voice soft feeling like a caress, and you study him in curiosity at the new Mando'a.
You've heard them say some words here and there –mostly insults or surprised expressions–; but never that one.
Before you're able to ask the meaning of it, Hunter offers a last smile and turns around, quietly walking away to their own apartment straight across from yours. Your eyes never leave his retrearing figure; while Omega's switches curiously between you both.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You lose count after the fourth one. Hugs start to form part of your usual rutine; sometimes a quick way of saying "hello" or "goodbye" and sometimes a simple show of affection, until it reaches the point where they're not unexpected anymore –though equally pleasant–. You also start to hug the rest of the Batch as well; not Echo, of course –he isn't comfortable with you like that just yet, though he admits small pats and squeezes on the shoulder as a substitute–, but Omega, Tech and Wrecker. Each hug with them feels different than rest; Hunter's keeps being the best.
It's not just physical contact that grows over the two of you; but mental as well. You often find yourself sitting with him in the cockpit –when you're on a mission– or strolling through Pabu –sometimes with Omega on your tail, sometimes not– when you're on a break. Your relationship with him deepens. He even opens up enough to talk about Crosshair; something you know it hurts him and has never been mentioned around you before. Other times he shares his worries about Omega and her on-the-run childhood; his fears for what the future beholds. You take special care of those quiet, heartfelt moments, listening carefully and giving your thoughtfull opinion that is neither naive nor too depressing; just the right amount of truth. You must be doing something right; because Hunter keeps coming back for more.
Somewhere along the way, two months in since that day of your nightmare, he casually opens his arms wide for you –not as a hello or a goodbye, not because it has been too long since you last saw each other, just a spontaneous gesture because he wants to– and you can't help but smile and cuddle straight into his arms. He sighs, body curving slightly to drap himself closer around you; and you feel the luckiest person in the world.
You take that as a license to hug him whenever you want. Sometimes he's in the middle of a conversation with his brothers when you walk towards them and slide your arms around him, pressing softly against his side; Hunter quickly growing into it and wrapping an arm around you as well without stopping the talk. Other times it's him who does it; like when you're watching Omega play with other teens on the beach, and Hunter come's around and hugs you to him while resting his chin on your shoulder, observing her.
People in Pabu start gossipping about you; rumours spreading that you might have started dating. You almost laugh when you hear it for the first time. Yeah, Hunter and you hug a lot, now, and it's undeniable that you've grown much closer; but don't friends hug too?
You start being more aware of your own actions from there on; and conclude that maybe not like that. And maybe hugs between friends aren't supposed to make you feel this way either; the way Hunter's does.
It's like that how you realise you're falling in love with him. You've always respected and admired him so much; but your feelings for him run deeper than that.
The hugs become even more frecuent as time passes by. You start to play with his hair too; Hunter even proping his head on your lap when you're resting on your bunk to demand some. You do it each time with a small chuckle and a rush of warmth and love that makes your eyes shine. You wonder if he's able to read the differences on your reactions, now.
You gather your courage, and when one of those times he relaxes on your lap again, enjoying the soft caresses of your fingers on his hair and scalp, you bend forward to kiss his forehead. Before you do, his breath hitches; his senses detecting some kind of movement above him. When your lips finally press softly against his skin, Hunter relaxes and lets out a small content hum. His right hand travels up to close around your leg, squeezing gently; and you restart your little massage.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You're honestly surprised with how quiet the rest of the batch has been around you; not a word of your unusual closeness with Hunter even after three months of development. Yeah, they steal glances of the two from time to time, as if expecting for something to happen; but there's no out of place comment or impatient complaint.
You're... hesitant about Hunter. About his feelings for you; sometimes so convinced they're as romantic as yours are, and other times swaying towards a strong friendship. Hunter doesn't kiss on the cheek anybody else, or cuddle with any other woman, for that matter; he's a bit reserved. But then again, he has never had a close female friend before, either; so maybe he's just curiously exploring what it means, enjoying the change. A bit of your own insecurities play their part as well. Hunter is such a striking man... And though you don't believe yourself to be unnatractive by any chance, you're not sure you're able to compete on his league. But maybe you don't have to, right? Hunter's not one of your past fleeting flings, not someone who values how you look and how many times you have sex in a week with as your main value. He's a decent person; someone who truly cares for your well-being. You snort at your following thought. Maybe that problem of your last relationship hadn't been you; you're sure you'd never lack the desire to jump in bed with Hunter. And you know he wouldn't pressure you if that weren't the case. That's the best part.
One week later, it's him who finally points out the elephant in the room. You're just entering their small apartment after watching a beautiful sunset in Pabu; deciding to make him some company while the rest of the Batch stays with Omega in the beach. He had stayed back under the need for some quiet and silence. After a whole afternoon to himself, you believe he must have had that covered.
Hunter's attention inmediatly snaps to you as soon as you walk through the open door; turning his body towards you and crossing his arms with an arching brow. He knows what's coming. It's tradition, now. You feel the inmediate need as soon as you're in front of him.
"You know... I'm one hug away from kissing you, cyare" he warns, amused little smile dancing on his lips while he gently stops your hips with his hands. "You're driving me crazy with all that physical contact, mesh'la".
You laugh. Your eyes shine up at him, insides warm and fuzzy with the raw affection he's directing towards you. His thumbs trace slow lazy circles over your hips. You love him. You have enjoyed the unhurried natural progression of your developing relationship; but you can't wait to take the next step, to finally being able to call him yours. You want to be that lucky girl you thought of once.
Oh well. If one more hug is all it takes...
You slowly stand on your tip-toes; and without taking your eyes off of him, your hands slowly skim up his arms til you're enveloping his back and shoulders in a half-hug. Your face is inches from Hunter's now. Your smile is impossibly wide and proud while you grin at him.
Hunter chuckles in amusement, quickly catching onto your logic, the silent question in your gesture; and one of his hands abandon your hips for a gentle hold on the side of your jaw.
"Love you" he mumbles, still smiling while he gives you his first ever kiss, making you giggle while you cling to his shoulders and kiss him back as well.
He deepens the kiss, demanding more of you while tigthening his grasp on your hip and pulling you closer. You make a satisfied happy noise with your throat, fingers slipping into his hair and body melting against him.
"Love you too".
THE END.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I JUST THOUGHT OF HOW GOOD A HUG FROM STRONG HANDSOME HUNTER WOULD FEEL AND THIS IS THE RESULT.
HOPE YOU'VE LIKED IT (LET ME KNOW)!
AS ALWAYS, REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APRECIATED.
REMEMBER I'M TAKING REQUESTS/PROMPTS!
Xx,
Sky.
PS. HELPPPP CAN SOMEONE PLS EXPLAIN TO ME HOW CAN I LINK MY ONE-SHOTS IN TUMBLR WITH JUST THE TITLE IN THE CUTE WAY EVERYONE DOES AND NOT LIKE I'M CURRENTLY DOING? TY!
(Back to general masterlist here)
#hunter tbb#hunter bad batch#tbb hunter#hunter x reader#hunter x you#hunter x oc#star wars tbb#tbb omega#echo tbb#tbb crosshair#star wars#tbb wrecker#tbb tech#tech tbb#tbb#clones#wrecker tbb#sw tbb#tbb echo#the bad batch#the bad batch crosshair#clone wars#fics#oneshot#fluff#cuddles#sargent hunter#clone force 99#clone trooper crosshair#clone au
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let me hold your hand (and dance around the flames)
Another Ember Island Players Fic Word Count: 1956 Zutara one-shot Read on ao3
Zuko is sure his shame will consume him, obliterate him, turn him to ashes and blow him away in the wind. The only evidence of his existence will be that awful play and the wake of destruction caused by his own implosion.
And yet, it pales in comparison to the anger flowing off the water bender walking beside him. Fearing retribution, he keeps his gaze steadily ahead, focusing on the trio walking in front of them. Sokka, Suki, and Toph chatter about their portrayal; Toph lets out a roar that sends Sokka yelping into Suki’s side. Suki laughs so hard she snorts and slaps Sokka’s back as his cheeks tinge red.
Zuko bites back a snarky comment. It’s simply propaganda, the events told with the inevitable agenda of a Fire Nation playwright, but at least they were written as comic reliefs.
They weren’t failures and traitors.
As they approach his family’s old vacation home, Katara’s sandal gets caught in the transition of cobblestone to sand. She loses her balance, but just as Zuko reaches a steadying arm out toward her, she rights herself on her own. Aang huffs behind him.
Not to mention the resentment radiating off the young Avatar. Aang all but limps toward the house like a wounded puppy, head tucked into his chest.
Katara pulls away from the group and storms off toward shore, back stiff, fists tight. Zuko slows to a stop as he watches her. She marches on to the beach, right where the tide stops overlapping the sand, and slumps to the ground, knees to her chest.
The rest of the group carries on into the house. Aang sends one last glare at Zuko, then runs up the stairs and slams the door behind him, rattling the frame and sending an explosion of sound that evacuates nearby cicada-crickets from the trees.
Zuko feels his chest constrict at the thought of following them inside the house. He isn’t claustrophobic–years spent at sea on a Fire Navy cruiser in close quarters with his crew desensitized him to any fears of being too enclosed. But there was a sort of heat burning under his skin. He was restless and itchy. Like if he walked into that house, he would explode, bringing the walls down around him in a terrible blaze.
Zuko glances over to the silhouette of Katara sitting in the sand again, still hunched, gently swaying back and forth with the tide. He’d seen her move like this once before, flying high over the ocean on Appa, the rain coming down around them.
After confronting her mother’s killer, Katara had been near catatonic. They’d walked away from the quaking old man, but the further they got, the more she had withdrawn. Zuko had helped her climb onto Appa’s back, and she collapsed onto the saddle and stared blankly ahead. She might have been crying, but the rain had cast everything in a haze. As if it were all a dream. And then, like a child being comforted by a mother, she rocked herself side to side.
She hadn’t spoken to him until they landed back at camp, and Katara had thrown her arms around him and granted him forgiveness. He remembers the warmth of her body against his, it had spread through his chest and she gave him a gentle squeeze before letting him go.
Zuko decides he would rather drown at her hand than suffocate amongst childhood memories. He approaches her as one would approach an injured turtle duck, softly and with no sudden movements.
“Go to bed, Aang.” Katara’s words are thick, tinged with finality that left no room for argument. It doesn’t escape him how maternal she sounds, as if she were scolding a petulant child.
“It’s me,” he says. Katara peeks at him over her shoulder, then looks out toward the ocean. “I can go further down the shore if you want to be alone,” he offers, “but I’d rather not be in the house right now.”
He watches her shoulders rise as she fills her lungs with a long breath. Then, slowly, she places a hand on the sand beside her and gives it a pat.
“You can stay.” She sounds tired now, but her tone is softer than her previous chiding.
He sits cross legged beside her, sitting a little closer than intended, his shoulder brushing against hers. Zuko’s nerves were raw, his fingers had been trembling since the end of the first act. The gentle warmth of Katara’s arm against his was like an anchor, grounding him, giving him something to brace against. She doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply sways into him, then back, her chin resting atop her knees.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” Zuko says. “That wasn’t a good play.”
Katara raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t write the play, Zuko.”
“No.” He grabs a handful of sand, it’s clumpy and coarse, still damp. Zuko squeezes it in his hand, then lets it crumble between his fingers. He does it again. “I'm just– sorry. I’m sorry you had to relive that. Relive me.”
She’s examining him. Zuko doesn’t dare make eye contact, but his skin prickles at the heat of her gaze on his face. It travels down his arms, to his hands, until she’s watching the grains of sand trickle between his fingertips.
Again, he feels too large. He waits for his skin to burst open.
“That wasn’t you on that stage, Zuko.”
“It was all the things I’ve done. All the ways I’ve hurt people.”
How much good would he have to do to counter balance all the bad? Terrorizing citizens for any knowledge about the Avatar, burning down villages…
The Catacombs under Ba Sing Se.
The look of terror on Katara’s face, the smell of burning flesh, the cry that tore itself from her lips as she fought to get to Aang, fought to get them to the surface, fought against Azula, fought against him.
The look of anguish on Uncle’s face as he fought to keep Aang and Katara safe.
Zuko chokes on a shuddering breath. His skin burns, his chest burns, his eyes burn.
“I’ve hurt so many people.”
So much blood.
Katara grasps his hand, grains of sand gently chafing against skin as she twines their fingers together. “Stop,” she whispers. “That was not you on that stage.”
His mind stutters, trying to pull himself from the memories. Katara squeezes his hand once and brushes her thumb over his knuckles. Back and forth. He sucks in a breath, then lets it whoosh out of his lungs. The tension in his shoulders drops.
“You have done more than enough, Zuko.”
Enough.
If there is wetness on his cheeks, Katara doesn’t mention it. She simply keeps rubbing soothing circles in his skin with her thumb. They watch the waves crash over the horizon.
“Maybe I should apologize to Aang,” Zuko says, thinking of Aang’s glare.
He can feel her deflate next to him, slumping into herself. Katara presses her face into her knees and heaves a sigh.
“He’s not angry with you,” she mumbles.
“You didn’t see the look he gave me.”
Katara shakes her head and with a shrug says, “He’s angry with me. We had a fight at intermission.”
“What could he possibly be mad at you for?” Zuko saw the way Aang looked at Katara. He worshiped the ground she walked on, what could she have done that was so bad? And why would Aang take it out on him?
“It’s complicated.”
Zuko huffs. It’s not quite a laugh. “Try me.”
Katara gives him an uncertain look, then turns her gaze back to the ocean. Just when Zuko thinks she’ll ignore him, her voice breaks over the sound of the waves.
“Aang had… a hard time distinguishing between the play and reality. Ever since we met we’ve been really close. For months it was just me, Sokka, and Aang. And then Toph joined and it was the four of us. I always trusted them with my life, but it felt like Aang was on my side when Sokka and Toph pushed me too hard. He helped me through some pretty bad things, and I helped him, too.
“I found him in an iceberg, so I was possessive , I guess. He was going to save the world. My world. And I would have done anything–” Karata’s voice cuts off, followed by a frenetic breath. The waves wash higher on the shore, in time with her quick breaths. The water sweeps against their feet.
“I would have done anything to make him happy. He’s my best friend and of course I love him, but what he wants...” Katara heaves a shuddering breath. And then another. Her next words come quickly, garbled. “It’s too much. I’m trying to win a war, and so is he! But I can’t–I feel like I can’t even breathe.”
And then Katara makes an awful sound, a low whine cut off by a choked gasp. And then, even worse, she’s apologizing .
“I’m sorry,” she breathes, pulling her hand from his and swiping under her eyes. “This is stupid, just like that ridiculous actress.” Her hands leave behind grains of white sand on her cheeks.
And for the first time, Katara looks defeated. Not even nine months ago, in a much colder continent, with her family's lives at stake and only a water whip to protect them did she look so small. She had built herself up with fury, indignation. She made up for what she didn’t know in determination.
Now, with her eyes squeezed shut and shoulders hunched, there was nothing she could fight to make this hurt go away.
Zuko is at a loss for how to comfort her, and he hates himself for it. She so effortlessly brought him from the edge of panic. Forgave him when he was the face of everything that was taken from her.
He thinks of her arms thrown around his neck. Her thumb brushing circles into his hand.
And he does what he should’ve done when Katara sat numbly in Appa’s saddle. Zuko pulls Katara into his side, tucks her head into his shoulder, and hugs her. He winds his arms around her back, and sways her gently, his chin tucked over top of her head. Katara lets out a whimper, and then her arms circle around his waist. She buries her face into the crook where Zuko’s neck meets his shoulder.
For a moment, all there is is the roar of the waves and his stiffness. He doesn’t want to jostle her, spook her. But her fists clench handfuls of his shirt and she is shaking, chest heaving with silent sobs.
Zuko thinks of his mother and turtle duck bites and cries met with warm arms and soothing whispers. And he sways her, side to side, soothing a hand down her hair. She smells of sea salt and the old bath oils left in the wet room.
“Okay,” he says into her hair, “okay.”
It’s not okay. Zuko knows what it’s like to collapse under the weight of expectation, knows what it’s like to choke on the disappointment of others, knows the taste of desperation. It had almost killed him, back in that apartment in Ba Sing Se. And when he’d made it back to the Fire Nation on the basis of Aang’s murder, there were times he wished the fever had taken him.
So much pain.
“Nothing like the actress,” he says. There is wetness and sand and shuddering breaths against his neck. “You are strong, this is strength.”
Katara takes a deep breath. Then another.
The waves wash back out to the ocean and quiet to a lull.
“You’ve given more than enough."
#zutara#avatar the last airbender#atla#is it romantic or platonic? squint at it and let me know what you find#zuko#katara#ember island players#ember island players fic#fanfiction#safereturn write fanfic#zuko has a panic attack#katara shoulders too many burdens#a civil wars song as a fic title#zutara fanfiction#Zutara fic#there is hugging#hurt/comfort#safereturn writes fanfic
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truman show esque "trapped in a reality you think is The reality when it is, in fact, just an experiment in which you are the subject" situation except when Steve gets dragged through the gate at Lover's Lake, when the rest of them follow him into the Upside Down, it's like the place has been adapting since the last time any of their people were here.
The Upside Down made itself into a mirror of Hawkins for a boy who it wanted to keep, but it didn't do so great the first time around. Vines and thick air and cold, it may have memorized the map of the place it was emulating, but it never quite got the details right.
The thing is, it's had time to learn. It was in Will's head, for fuck's sake, took over the bodies of countless Hawkins residents during the Starcourt fiasco of '85, so by the time Spring Break of '86 rolls around, the Upside Down knows.
It's a living thing and it knows better how to be a mirror, how to maybe better keep that boy here next time it gets ahold of him. Only before Will Byers has the chance to stumble his way back through one of the gates being created just for him, just for him and his sister, there are four others who are maybe a good trial run.
It's confusing for them, on the other side of being dragged to the bottom of a lake. It's confusing because it actually looks like Hawkins, smells like it, the water is the same in the lake and the mud feels the same on the shore.
It's less like being dragged to the bottom at all, actually, because the water makes them weightless, makes the transition disorienting rather than a clear crossing between worlds, so when they resurface and it looks the same it's. It's not the Upside Down the way Steve saw it in the tunnels, it's not the Upside Down the way Will or Joyce or Hopper or El described it.
Maybe there are hints and clues out and about-- unnatural chill for the season and tree roots that kick up out of the earth a bit more frequently, a haze to both nighttime and daylight that makes it feel gray and-- artificial almost? But none of that is enough to combat the sense of disorientation, the knowledge in their heads of what the UD actually looks like, and there's this fog in their heads...
There's this fog...
Their people aren't on the shore waiting for them under that starless night sky, but that's actually-- were there people waiting here for them at all?
It was just the four of them, right? It was just--
There are people here, when they decide to, um, "how did you hurt yourself, Steve? We need to-- shit, that needs to be disinfected, like, yesterday."
Robin's worried about rabies but Steve reminds her, "that's an animals thing, I just, like, fell on, uh-- those rocks at the lake? When we were swimming?"
It's too hard to question why they all went swimming in their clothes when it's this cold and dark. The fog is-- it's thick but also untraceable, it's like trying to make a logical decision in the middle of the most absurd of dreams.
It's like darkness encroaching in on your vision when you're involuntarily losing consciousness...
There are people here, when they decide to go find a first aid kit at Nancy's place because it's closest. There are a handful of cars driving around town, Mrs. Brady putting out her trash down the street when they sneak past.
Mrs. Brady, she was-- she is-- she-- but last summer during the-- the issue with-- there was a whole thing and she di--
Nancy's parents are out.
Steve's bites scrapes are oozing and painful and Nancy slaps at Eddie's hand when he tries to snoop at her diary.
The sun rises. The sun only just set. There are people here but they're-- were there people waiting for them on the shore?
There was something, some reason, why they were at the lake and that's important. That has to be important, somewhere beyond the fog.
When they fall asleep in the light of a too-quick morning, like the sun turned on rather than rose, it's not weird that there's no one else in the Wheeler house.
"Stop looking at me, I can feel you," Robin mutters as she dozes off to sleep on the bed beside Nancy, the boys on a spare mattress on the floor.
Everyone else is already asleep.
#apparently I want to write today but only about things not relevant to my big wip like first max feelings now this pls#dot post#dot fic#ronance#steddie#(sorta for both. pre steddie ronance if you will)#eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#stranger things fic#in the big version of this that is forming in my head everyone killed by the UD shows up in 'town'#but in various states of themselves depending on how they died#aka we get chrissy and barb back is my point jfkladj
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what if I was crazy and asked for uhh
⁹⁹⁾ a cluttered bedside table
for the summer camp au 🫣
a/n: this was such a good prompt thank you love!!! no proofreading we die like men, i slammed an energy drink an hour ago can you tell, these two have issues, etc, etc. enjoy
Hazel’s bedside table is cluttered after just six days. How? She doesn’t know, but she maneuvers around her alarm clock, three half-finished bracelets, the itinerary from this morning—this morning? Yesterday morning? It’s 2 am so technically the time… you know… anyway—her journal, her book, the portable mug Ginny got her as a start-of-camp present, her water bottle with another half-finished bracelet tied around the handle, the penny she found in the parking lot, and a resealable bag of Sour Patch Kids to grab her glasses and her phone, and slip out of bed.
Her feet find her too-worn slides without her having to look down as she pulls her Lake Harding Lower Camp sweater over her head—the collar’s in shambles and it’s so faded that you can barely read it, but she loves the thing, okay?
She takes a look around the cabin, serenaded by Ginny’s gentle snores from the bunk above her. Last night of quiet. The beds sit empty, awaiting the girls that’ll fill them with noise and color come morning. Her stomach flutters. It shouldn’t after all these years, but she can’t help it. Soon they’ll be here, with their faces another year older and all the stories that she didn’t get to hear over e-mail—teenage heartbreak, ice skating injuries, complaints about Mom and Dad—and so much hope, so much excitement to be home away from home for the next eight weeks.
She hopes the same thing she hopes every year, that they like it, that it lives up to their hopes and dreams, and thumbs the necklace Jack got her when she transitioned to Upper Camp, a small gold medallion stamped with the rising sun and evergreen tree of Lake Harding’s logo.
Jack, right.
Hopping the squeaky floorboard, she opens the door and pushes into the night-slash-morning.
He’s right where he always is, on the bench under the Great Pine in the center of camp, facing the Big House and the lake beyond. An arm is already thrown across the back of the seat and she sits quietly. He doesn’t move.
It’s nice, early enough in the season that she doesn’t have to cover herself in bug spray for a quick trip outside, and cool. If they wait long enough, fog’ll start to pool on the grass as the day begins, dotted with dragonflies and early birds in the gentle morning. But for now, she’s content to sit with the wind and the stars and the lights shining from the cabin porches where her fellow counselors rest inside, some fast asleep and some as restless as Jack.
She pulls her sleeves over her hands and tucks them into herself, leaning her head on his shoulder. He brings his arm around her and presses a kiss into her bonnet, but doesn’t speak as he slowly rubs her bicep. Tilting her head back, she can see his face, sober as the grave, and the straight line of his nose and his eyes, somehow still blue in the dark and a million miles away.
He doesn’t want to talk about it, she knows that. Two weeks on the Cape this year and any time she got close to hinting at his last summer, he changed the subject to work or the weather or bed, and she was happy to follow him there. But, God—he’ll dig a trench and hunker down before giving her an inch of space into his head where she knows he’s scared. Hell, she would be too, and that’s why she knows he is. They’re one in the same. Whatever souls are made of or however souls are made or whatever Kathy said in Wuthering Heights. Yeah, that.
A bird sings as the wind picks up and rustles the trees in the clearing. His side is warm against hers and she could fall asleep right here, right among the crickets and constellations, if she weren’t so wired. Her heart jumps again as she remembers that her girls are going to be here in less than twelve hours. In California, Isla is up already and on her way to the airport; Kinsley’s moms are shaking her awake in their D.C. apartment. So soon, she thinks, and she’ll throw her arms around them and shuffle them into their cabin.
Jack’s boys are doing the same and he’s thinking about them. He’s thinking about every kid and about their parents, about how many cars they can fit in the parking lot at once, about the sand they dumped in the back so that the busses won’t get stuck in the mud from the rain, about the other billion things that he won’t let her help him with despite her insistence.
“No,” he’d said when she asked yesterday, “you should be with your girls.”
“And you should be with your boys.”
She’d given him pause, but not enough because he handed the task off to Red and gave her a look that dared her to challenge him.
Let me in, you bastard.
“My mom says hi,” she says after a while.
“She does?” He looks down at her.
She nods. “Yep. Says you need to wear more sunscreen this year. Doesn’t want any more pictures of you burned to shit.”
That gets a smile out of him and he pulls her in for another kiss on the head. “Tell her I’m a grown man and I’ll get sunburnt if I want to.”
“Well,” she starts, and she doesn’t know if she should keep going. “You need someone to look after you.”
He tenses next to her, all that wiry muscle coming to life under his hoodie. Sitting up, she levels her gaze at him. His eyes are blown wide but he doesn’t give anything else away in his face. Like a rock, this guy.
“You deserve to have fun this year.”
“I will have fun this year.”
She shakes her head with a terse laugh and looks down at her hands, fiddling with the fraying cuffs of her sleeves. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
His hand finds her thigh, splayed and searing and confident against her bare skin. He doesn’t mean it like that, not here. There are rules, y’know—not Chick’s rules, but theirs, the unwritten ones they’ve put down over the years, but it’s so easy to give into him, where it’s warm and safe and she knows he’ll treat her well.
It goes quiet again and it’s quiet for a time, long enough for the sky to start to lighten, but not enough for the color to fill in. A noise from the boys’ side catches her ear, then the same from the girls; a door opening, and by the distinct creak of the hinges, her money is on the older divisions.
Her hunch is right as she tracks swimsuit-clad shapes in the dark slipping toward the Big House and over the hill down to the waterfront, towels slung over their shoulders as they shove and race along the path. Eight in all.
“The 15s counselors are freaks,” she says, “even that new guy.”
“Rosie,” Jack replies.
“Rosie, right.” Izzy’s friend. She’s getting old, forgetting the new counselors’ names. They’re both getting old.
Her eyes start to droop close as a warning and she yawns, stretching her arms above her head. Jack watches her, and keeps watching her as she rises, her thighs peeling off of the bench. She likes the way he looks at her—whether it’s from a bench or a bed or along the shore in Maine or from the driver’s seat as his car winds its way through the mountain roads that lead to camp. She likes the way he looks at her and how soft he goes despite the sharp angles of his face and those brows that never seem to raise from a frown. She likes the way that his eyes go straight to her heart and make her feel like she has a place in the world, even just for a moment.
And she doesn’t like the way her stomach twists at the thought that he’ll have to stop looking at her at the end of the summer, and that might be it forever.
“You should try to rest,” she says to her shoes.
Sitting forward, he reaches for one of her hands, tangling their fingers together. She’s transfixed for a moment—the long lines connecting his pale knuckles together against the even, flat brown of hers. The warmth kicks in, the one she gets when it’s just them, but it’s not just them, is it? It’s like she blinks and the sky is daylight blue, the sun speeding its way over the lake and it’s the first day already. How many more does she get with him?
But she blinks again and it’s barely dawn, the early blue hour washing everything navy and making her feel like she’s submerged in water. Or drowning.
“Come back to mine,” he offers, and she barks a laugh.
There are actual rules, one that Chick did write, but as she meets Jack’s eyes—pleading, scared to ask for anything out loud—and feels his hand in hers, she thinks of what few fucks Chick gives about the rules.
“At least ‘til reveille. Bill won’t mind.”
Bill won’t. Jack barely fits in his twin bed, and there’s no way in hell they’ll be comfortable, but it’s just until reveille and she can listen to his heartbeat as the birds begin to sing in earnest to tell them that the sun is rising.
Hazel doesn’t respond, just tugs him along to the last bunk on the boys’ side, and Ginny will just have to turn her alarm off for her. Good, it’ll get the girl out of bed.
#mail call#poet tag#they have issues LMAO#hazel keene#hazel x jack#my writing#straighten up and fly right#lake harding
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The Reluctance of Love Pt. 17
Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 Word Count: 2257 (average 17 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, homophobia, fantasy racisms. All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.
Altan POV
It was two, maybe three miles of walking in the dim torchlight through the underground path before we noticed the compact dirt and mud slowly transition to rock and stone. We started to recognize that the tunnel was leading us to some kind of cave. The walls became jagged, not uniform and smoothed down like the dirt. The walls were slick with damp and I felt my shoes struggle to stay balanced.
Drunrag’s hands were immediately on mine as he led me delicately through the uneven parts. His eyes were keen and I knew he could see better in the dark than I could. And it showed as he stepped carefully and purposefully, and I did my best to leap behind him and land where he landed.
The cave widened and we found that the mouth of the cave was cleverly concealed behind foliage. There was a sound of rushing water and we quickened our pace to follow it.
Drunrag pulled the foliage back and I stepped through and waited for him to follow. Everything was difficult to see during the night, but it looked as if the entrance of the cave opened just below a bridge that crossed over a small, steady stream that ran off from the river we could hear. There wasn’t enough water to reach the mouth of the cave and we were able to quickly scramble through the rocks and pebbles to get onto soft land.
Drunrag threw the torch into the river and watched as the light fizzled and died out. He took a hold of my hand and said softly. “I can see enough to lead us on.”
I trusted him with complete complicity and I squeezed his hand in return.
“Do you need to rest?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Let’s go.” I answered.
I didn’t know what time it was, but I could make a guess that we were approaching the peak of night. Everything was dark and I found myself holding onto Drun’s hand like a vice. I had read once that orc’s made great hunters thanks to their ability to see well in the dark. A perk to having an orc for a partner, I thought wryly.
“How far are we?” I asked. “From the city?”
Drun looked around, I couldn’t see much of his features, no more than a shadow in the dark, but I could see the whites of his eyes as he observed our surroundings. “We look to be just a half mile from the gates.”
“That’s not far enough.” I breathed. “The guards are probably on horseback and will gain on us in little time. At least we have the shadow of night as our advantage. Do you see anywhere we can hide ourselves?”
I was able to catch my breath as Drunrag planned our route. Even with everything happening, I couldn’t stop myself from exulting in some small way at that moment. My hand was being held by one who I had spent the last few months literally dreaming about. I knew we weren’t totally free yet, there was still so much risk, but I felt something strong and pounding inside me telling me how right this all was. I didn’t doubt or regret choosing this over a comfortable life.
“This way.” He said softly and he began to pull me through the darkness. “I see a copse of trees over there.”
We walked swiftly, yet quietly. I knew I was holding Drun back, that I was the slow one in the group, but he said nothing and he kept his hand on mine and never let go. The grass was dry and brittle and even with our careful steps rustled and crumbled loudly beneath our feet. Every so often, I would find myself looking back, waiting to see a line of torchlight pursuing us and every moment I didn’t see it, I grew more worried.
We rested in the dark cover of the trees and gathered ourselves before moving on to our next destination. Drun’s attention was tuned in to everything around us. I could hear him sniff the air and adjust our course to avoid something only he knew about.
“Are you alright?” He asked. He was so good at being worried for me. I felt warm every time he asked me.
I nodded. “Fine.”
“We should only rest for a moment here,” He said, his eyes looking at the town behind us. “I’m nervous still being so close. We should go as far as we can and take a long rest when there is some distance between us. Perhaps at dawn.”
Dawn. That was still likely hours away from now. I let out a breath.
I saw him shift to look at me again, “Will you manage?”
“I will. I have to.” I answered, determined. I adjusted the pack on my shoulders and rose to my feet. It was laughable how even as I stood at my full height, Drunrag managed to reach my shoulders sitting. I still wasn’t used to how large, how massive he was. He probably could carry me if he wanted. The thought of it was tempting.
I brushed the thoughts aside and changed the subject, “Do you have somewhere in mind we should go?”
“North.” He answered, I detected a touch of reluctance in his voice as he said it. “My family would be able to provide us asylum. They live in the Fields of the Dead.”
A pleasant name for a stretch of land, but it was the unfortunate burial ground for hundreds of soldiers from centuries worth of battles and conflicts throughout our history. I remembered hearing stories of the undead that would rise and wander through the fields. How the soil smells of blood. I wondered how or why a tribe of orcs would find themselves living there, but I dared not ask questions. The idea of seeing Drunrag’s family was something I had never considered. I had foolishly made the assumption that there was little contact between them. I sensed the anxiety it caused Drunrag to take us there, and I couldn’t help but feel a similar sense of dread at the idea of it.
“Oh.” I responded. “Will…will we be safe there?”
“They would be wise to not touch you.” His voice was heavy and low and it made my body shiver as I felt the possessiveness of those words.
“What about you?” I asked.
There was not an answer for a long while and I worried that I had asked the wrong question.
“I can handle my family.” He finally answered.
I hoped what he said was true, because I still felt a pit in my stomach at the thought of having to face them down.
We let the silence settle as we adjusted our packs, caught our breath and stretched, only it ended quickly when Drun grabbed my arm suddenly and hissed, “The gates are opening, we need to leave.”
I whirled around and saw the faint dim specks of torchlight in the distance and felt my heart begin to pulse loud and pounding inside me.
Hand in hand, we set out in the field. I was once again blind in the night and let Drunrag guide us through. He would shift our direction every so often and he often looked back to assess our pursuers. We were traveling once again in open fields. In daylight such a thing would spell our doom, but in the thick of night with little moonlight, we were safe, hopefully long enough to find cover.
My breath was all I could hear as I did my best to keep astride with Drunrag. I knew he was slowing down for me, but even still my legs were starting to scream at me for rest after having run this much already. I didn’t pull back though, instead I gritted my teeth and pressed on.
“They’re gaining on us.” Drunrag said between breaths. “We’ll need to find cover soon.”
We picked up speed and I started to feel like I was being dragged behind him.
“Here.” He said and we were suddenly taking a sharp turn and climbing up a small slope until we were resting against large protruding rocks. They were chill to the touch and I pressed my cheek against it. Drun then enveloped himself around me, I felt his broad chest against my back, heaving slow, steady breaths. His arms were on either side of me, pulling me tightly to him. I let myself be held as he pressed us against the rock and we both held still and waited.
I did my best to still my breathing, but I was still winded from running. Now that I was pulled into Drun’s embrace, my cheek was pressed against his chest and I felt the even rise and fall of his breathing. I could see hardly anything except the arm that was around my front that helped me to stay right next to him and then the dim view of the fields below us, a large dark blanket of shadow with no shape or form. I burrowed closer to him and I felt his chin rest above my head and he squeezed me tightly to him.
We heard the pounding of hooves and from my limited perspective, I caught sight of four separate torches emitting light across the field. They looked to be at least a half mile away from us, so I couldn’t recognize anyone from where we were.
My body was stock still and unmoving as I watched between Drun’s arms. The men were spread out, circling around and advancing forward. Their horses were light on their feet and danced across the field from one side to the other, covering distance in only a few seconds.
Drun turned his head away from them and buried his head into me. We held still, so still. My heart was out of control inside me, begging that we live through this, that we get through this night.
I closed my eyes, a prayer on my lips to protect us, oh great gods preserve us.
“Not here!” A voice called. It sounded like it had only been a few yards away. I felt the twitch and flex in Drun’s body at the sound of it and he gripped me tighter. I heard the pounding of the hooves fade off as they returned back to the team and they continued on.
We each were frozen for a time before I felt Drun’s muscles relax and he pulled away only slightly.
“What now?” I barely breathed the words out loud.
“We wait.” He answered.
We didn’t speak, we didn’t even so much as look at each other as we sat in the horrid dark of night. The sounds of the guards in pursuit were fading.
I started to lift my head to look out when Drun pressed me closer to his chest. “Not yet.” He hissed. “There could be more.”
I held back and I let myself be held. Drun’s body was warm, his chest damp with sweat. Under normal circumstances I might have found that to be a sensual thing…but I barely registered it at that moment as I held my breath.
I didn’t know how much time passed, only that my body ached and certain parts felt numb before, I shifted and shuffled and stretched until I was facing him and I leaned my back against the wall. I kept my hands up to my chest. I felt his arms adjust around me and pulled me safely into his chest.
“Where do you think they are? Still searching?”
“Most likely. I can smell them nearby,” he said. “We can’t accept the risk of continuing our travel if they're still out there.”
“So.” I started, “We wait?”
I felt his head nod against the side of my head.
I took in a deep, long breath and took in Drun’s scent. It was a manly smell - mostly sweat now, but I noticed the underlying reminiscent scent of Doxxah’s bakery and then an even more permanent smell of earth and ash on him, reminding me of when I first met him on the sunny day on the coast, dressed to work in the hot fires of the forge.
I jerked back when I also caught a faint whiff of something sweet, more fragrant. “Is that…cologne I smell?”
I wish I could have seen his face as I heard the bashfulness in his voice. “Doxxah helped me.”
I leaned in and took in another long breath, “It’s…it’s nice. Kind of fruity. I think it suits you.”
I felt him tense and he shivered.
I lifted my head up. “Are you alright?”
“Tickles.” He answered.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I didn’t realize until then how my nose was practically pressed into his collarbone. I moved to adjust myself, but his arms didn’t let up.
“Don’t. I don’t mind.” He said, his lips were just above my ears and I felt the vibration of his voice. I too shivered in response.
We held each other there and I found myself struggling to keep my eyes opened and my mouth would open wide with a long, drawn out yawn.
“You may sleep, if you want.” He said, “I’ll keep watch.”
I blinked and shook my head, “I’m okay, I’ll stay up.”
“Orcs are built to endure.” He said. “You need rest.”
I knew he was right, but I was feeling so helpless at that moment. I opened my mouth to protest when I felt a hand on the back of my head. He cradled it tenderly and whispered in my ear. “Nod Merad, sleep.”
I didn’t know what the words meant, but he said them with such gentleness, it was soothing and kind. I didn’t know that orcish could be gentle, and I closed my eyes wondering what other gentle words I would someday hear from him.
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The Moon and Sun (Big Sib Reader x Gon/Killua)
Ch 14: A Protector's Failure
Synopsis: You recall everything that's led you up to this point. The good and bad, while the boys try their best to cope with your temporary absence.
An: This is a skipable chapter because I know some people can't stand a backstory chapter. But it does give some insight on our insert's actions.
Key: 🌑☀️🌑☀️=pov change from Y/n to the boys. 🌘🌘🌘🌘=Transition between Y/n's memories/present
-----------------
Rushed footsteps could be heard throughout the forest. The little pitter-patter reverberating off the trees. A child no more than five being the source of the sound. Pushing her body the fastest it could go.
Unawares of the unforeseen threat giving chase. Slowly closing in from above. All at once the being descended down on her, tackling the child down to the floor. The both of them tousling on the ground from the force.
"Got you Kari!" The being announced.
Another kid. This one a bit older with a prominent gap between their teeth.
"You're getting better, but still not fast enough," they continued before helping the other one up.
"You were cheating, Y/n! You used your nen!" The younger one whined out.
"Duh. You should've been using your nen too. You would've been able to sense me coming."
The older one playfully bumped the other's shoulder. Giggling at the way she turned her head and huffed.
"C'mon, we've been away long enough. Let's head back to the village before they start to get suspicious." Taking the smaller one's hand and starting to lead her away. But there was a small tug pulling them back.
"Do we have to go back right away? Can't we stay here a little longer?" It sounded hopeful from the small girl.
"You know how Fathe-," the older one shook their head. "You know how Reik gets. We can't keep him waiting."
But a feeling of dread lingered in the air. Something foreboding in it.
Almost like a warning.
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
You quickly jolted up. Breathing heavily as you came to. Catching your disheveled reflection in the puddle in front of you. (Having chosen a small cave to fall asleep in last night.)
That dream.
Why that one?
Why now?
You didn't want to see it. You didn't want to see her. You were already pushed past your limit, and now this? It was so frustrating you let out a scream. Your poor vocal cords straining once again, not yet fully healed.
God damnit.
Goddamn everything.
You forced yourself to calm down, remembering where you were. The NGL. You'd been here for about a week now. Only three more to go until you saw your boys again.
You didn't want to leave the boys behind, and part of you still wished you hadn't. That you had just stayed instead. But it really was for their own good.
You were no longer capable of keeping them safe. The altercation with the cat chimera ant had shown you that. You weren't good enough to protect them anymore. So it was decided you needed a safe place to train without distractions.
Without risking either one of them getting hurt.
And while that was your main reason for leaving so abruptly, it wasn't the only one. The blue hat tucked away in your pocket was another.
Kite.
You searched everywhere for him when you first got here. Tracking the faint trail of his aura all the way back to the place where you were attacked. Making sure to lower your heart rate in case that same ant detected you.
But all you found when you got there was blood. Caked and dried in splatters on the dirt. Too much for any living person to lose. You couldn't help but throw up at the sight.
Disgust and grief mixing together as you heaved up everything you had. There was no way he could've survived that. Even if he did manage to defeat that thing, he would've lost too much blood to just walk away.
And judging by the malicious aura barley in reach of your en, it was still out there.
You'd run away like a coward.
Like you always did.
And Kite paid the price for your selfishness.
You clutched his hat tightly as you recalled the sight. The little specs of blood on the brim were yours, but it may as well have been his from the way guilt seemed to consume you the longer you stared at it.
Another person you cared about dead because you wanted to protect your own life.
Maybe that was why you dreamt about her. A reminder that this wasn't the first time you'd run away so callously. Or maybe it was because of that stupid old man. Calling you by a name you'd long discarded, forcing you to remember the atrocities attached to it.
You didn't like remembering, but it was getting harder and harder to avoid doing so. You deserved to suffer, and maybe your mind decided torturing you with the past was the way to do it.
You shook your head to rid the thought. Now wasn't the time to feel sorry for yourself. You still had a long way to go before you were combat ready. Before you could stomach the sight of blood.
Although, you couldn't help but wonder how Gon and Killua were taking it.
You sincerely hoped they were doing fine without you.
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
The sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the small home, startling Gon awake. There was a splintering sound of something bigger hitting the floor. Followed by a few curses.
That definitely wasn't right.
He quickly got up and rushed towards the living room. Eyes widening as he identified the cause for all the commotion.
Killua.
And he looked very upset.
Raising up something else to break before Gon stopped him.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
The small assassin didn't answer, fearing that if he did, he would once again break down.
"Where's Y/n?" Gon tried again. Knowing that there was no way you wouldn't have gotten up to comfort Killua.
But despite his good intent, it seemed that wasn't the right thing to ask right now. Killua walked over to the table and sat down with his head in his hands. Letting out a shaky breath as he eyed the crumpled up note he found earlier.
The boy in green following his line of sight and picking up the note to read.
Dear my little moon and sun,
By the time you're reading this I'll have returned to the NGL. I truly am sorry to have left without saying a word, but I have my reasons. I need to work on my own skills and strength so that what happened with the cat chimera ant never happens again. It's something I need to do by myself, no matter how much it pains worries me to leave you two by yourselves. I know you two of you are dead set on proving yourselves through Netero's game, but I could care less for that old geezer's instructions. Nevertheless, I know you'll both succeed in taking those two other game pieces. That you'll both improve your skills drastically. I have complete faith in you, so when the month's over, I better see your faces cross the border! I'll be waiting until then.
Apologies, Y/n.
Oh.
He understood now.
Though he wasn't angry with you like Killua. Just disappointed that you'd once again chosen to do this by yourself. A hunch that you still didn't trust them. Seems his instincts had been right after all. He looked over towards his best friend, frowning at the defeated look he had.
"Why...Are we not enough for them to stay?" Killua's voice was quiet, a drastic change from his previous frustration.
Then his despair returned to anger. Hands clenching and body lightly shaking.
"Do they just hate us!?! Were we really that terrible that they decided to leave again!?! Damnit Y/n, why do you keep doing this!?!? Why do you keep running away!?!?" Frustrated tears now running down his face.
"Was yesterday just a cover up!?! All of it, just pretending like they weren't going to leave us!!!"
Because you'd been smiling so much yesterday.
Joking around, tucking them into bed, giving them a goodnight kiss. Was all of it just so they wouldn't have suspected anything?
'Your friends will leave you.'
No, not you. You were supposed to stay. You were supposed to be here right now. You were supposed to be his big sibling.
A hand on his shoulder stopped his frantic thoughts.
"They weren't faking. They probably didn't know how to tell us." Gon tried to explain. It was what he figured anyways.
Because you didn't have to comfort him last night. You didn't have to put him back to bed. And the way you hesitated when he caught you sneaking out.... Conflicted like you didn't really wanna leave.
How could any of that have been faked?
But Killua wasn't fully convinced yet.
"That's just the thing, they don't trust us enough to tell us anything! How do we know that this time they're telling the truth!?!"
It hurt.
Not being able to trust the one person that was supposed to keep him safe.
Did you really go back there to get stronger, or did you leave to find Kite?
Because clearly you seemed to prefer his company over theirs.
"Think about it," Gon started.
"Y/n said they're going back there to get stronger. Do you know what that means? It means they're gonna fight. And do you what that means?"
If you planned on fighting then...
"They're going to break their promise...to keep us safe." But was that really why?
Killua didn't know anymore.
"If they really did leave for good, then why would they leave a note? Y/n is waiting for us. They're counting on us to get stronger. I understand why you're upset, I wish they would've told us too. But if there's one thing Y/n isn't, it's someone who doesn't honor their word."
And for whatever reason, those words started to ease the doubts eating away at him.
"How are you so sure this time?"
"Killua, they almost died just to make sure we were okay first. How can you not be so sure?" It was stated as a matter of fact.
And now that he said it, Killua felt like an idiot.
Yesterday was just you trying to have one last good day before you left. You probably thought you wouldn't get another chance. That you might die in the NGL by yourself.
It was real.
And so was everything else before that.
"You're right.... But I still haven't forgiven them. They can't just keep leaving like this. It's-"
"Worrying. I know." Gon agreed.
"How do you think they're holding up?"
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
It was raining again.
Pouring down in endless buckets. And the first good rain of the year usually meant...
Today was officially your birthday.
You must've been 20 by now. Maybe 21. You don't really remember anymore. Not the official date anyways. But the one thing you did remember was that it always poured heavily, and you hated it.
You hated it for ruining your fun when you were a child, and you hated it now for stalling your training. Once again stuck in some small cave to avoid getting wet. Left with nothing but your thoughts to entertain you. How unfortunate that they kept drifting back to the one thing you didn't want to think about.
The Mizaki Clan.
Your 'family.'
You blamed Netero for bringing them up. You blamed yourself for continuously screwing up. You blamed the clan for putting you in this situation in the first place.
A part of you was grateful for what they gave you, at least during the early years. Another part of you respected them for the opportunities they've given so many. But the biggest part of you hated everything they stood for. The part of you that would never forgive them.
Fuck it.
You were tired of fighting the thoughts away.
Tired of repressing memories that would just come back twice as strong.
It didn't matter anymore. No one was here to see you break anyways. You could be weak if it was with yourself. Relying on your own comfort like you always had.
The Mizaki Clan, a clan of skilled hunters. The duties of each respective member being divided into three categories: Trapper, Tracker, and Trader.
Most were orphans who'd been found and taken in. Few had been outsiders married in. Even fewer were born into the clan. For all the shit they put you through, they were anything but discriminate when it came to accepting new members.
You were an orphan. The story goes, you were found in the backyard of an abandoned residence. The man who found you, Reik, was the current clan head. But at that time he'd barely taken over the reigns.
To you, Reik had been your father. And the truth was the same for others around your age. You'd believed he was a compassionate yet stern leader. Someone to be respected and loved at the same time.
Oh how wrong you were. A naive and foolish child.
Turns out the story of your upbringing had been a lie. You'd found out the truth because you witnessed it happen to someone else firsthand.
It was at the age of seven you found out. The age where everything started falling apart. When the illusion of blind devotion started to fade away.
You'd been assigned a mission with a few others. Reik had been among them. The targets had easily been disposed of. Of course they were, they were ordinary people who happened to cross the wrong person.
When your group went to leave, a wailing sound filled the air. It was only a matter of seconds before the source of the crying was found. Father had discovered a small child hidden away inside a closet.
Who, upon finding the baby, met your eyes and told you, "It's our job to make sure we finish off our targets. No matter what, for the good of the clan. But it's also our responsibility to handle loose ends.
Our client only specified a man and a woman. Therefore this child is our burden. A baby is pure. Born without the sin of their parents. Do you understand, little one? None of this is personal."
The phrase became one you hated. "It's nothing personal." It was very personal.
Looking back on it now, he didn't have to take that baby in. He didn't have to take any of them in, yet he did. It had you thinking that maybe, somewhere deep down, that man actually felt guilt and remorse for what he did.
Then again, he always justified his actions with them being for the good of the clan.
A small part of you couldn't let go of the man you'd perceived him to be. Didn't want to believe his actions had never been out of kindness, but necessity.
You wanted to hate him, and you should have.
But you were just sad if anything. Frustrated that he was up on a pedestal that couldn't be questioned. Because if it was, they'd end up like you.
Like Kari.
Your Kari. Your little sister that had been taken far too soon from this world. Eyes such a light brown they were almost golden. Hair a fluffy mess of curls.
It was your fault she was gone.
🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘
At the age of seven you were what most would call an absolute demon. Always getting into fights. Always biting people and using the gap between your teeth as leverage to sink them in deeper. Always showing off.
Today had been one of those days.
You'd just come back from retrieving a special object. Your goal was to turn it in to either Reik or a fellow trader. You'd decided on the later, strolling through the dirt roads of the village.
What was the name of the person you were supposed to see? Winnie? Winfred? Wonka? Eh, didn't matter anyways.
You were gonna make a pitstop first and pay a visit to your favorite old codger. Kari was sick after all. Perhaps some sweets would make her feel better. And he was the only one with a working oven.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a harsh shove to your shoulder. A few other kids shoving past you. Laughing as they raced away.
You turned your head towards where they came from, watching as an old man tried to give chase. However, he was out of breath after only a few steps.
"Old Mr. Beuru?" You mumbled.
"DAMN BRATS! YOU'RE LUCKY I AIN'T AS YOUNG AS I USED TO BE!"
Your mood immediately dampened. You gave a sigh before focusing your eyes in the distance. Three mischievous auras on your radar. You summoned your nen towards your legs and took off towards them.
It was only a matter of seconds before you caught up. You gave a jump to land in front of them and glared.
Three teenage boys. Who would've guessed?
The ringleader glared right back, popping what you assumed to be candy into his mouth.
"If it isn't one of Father's favorites. Whaddya want? We don't have time to chattering around with a diaper baby."
His two buddies snickered at his remark.
You took the first one as a compliment. Being one of Reik's favorites meant you had a good shot of becoming the clan head one day. That you were a prodigy.
The second one you wouldn't let slide. You'd already outranked these fools in both physical and nen combat. But sure, you were the baby.
"Hand over what you took." Your voice was ice and your aura was authoritative. But it did little to deter them.
"Tch, like we're gonna give you any. You know how hard it was to con that old man?"
That was all the information you needed. You were hot headed by nature. Someone who strikes first, asked questions later.
At least, that was how you used to be.
In the blink of an eye, you'd used your Caster's Net to hog tie the boy's lackies. Your anger being palpable as you tackled the third. Pushing his face in the dirt and using your nen to pin him.
"GET OFF ME!" He screeched.
"THEN GIVE BACK WHAT YOU STOLE!"
"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" He then tried to throw you off. Using his own nen to find some leeway. But as you observed, you were indeed stronger than him.
"BULL! WE'RE MEMBERS OF THE SAME COMMUNITY! IT IS MY BUSINESS WHEN YOU DECIDE TO GO AND PICK ON ONE! NOW GIVE IT BACK!"
"HE HAD IT COMING, NOW GET THE HELL OFF!!!"
"GIVE IT OR I'LL-"
The threat died on your tongue as you were hoisted up. Your nen dissipating from the shock.
It was how you found yourself being interrogated by Father. The altercation causing quite the stir in the village. He questioned the three boys first.
"What was the reason this fight started? You know fighting within the clan is looked down upon. Even more so to be feuding with a member below your age group."
The trio wasted no time coming up with a lie.
"They just jumped us. We were minding our business when they came out of nowhere." The ringleader answered.
Unawares of the eyes focused in on his aura.
"You swear that's all that happened?" Father asked.
"Uh huh. If you ask me, they need to be kept in check."
If looks could kill, you would've ended his life ten times over.
"I see. Now, Y/n what do you recall happening?"
"I was just coming back from my mission and I saw the three of them running away. Mr. Beuru was chasing them so I assumed they did something. And I was right. They stole from him. They even admitted it."
If there was one thing you despised most, it was liars and thieves. Unbeknownst to you, in about a decade that would change to hunters.
Reik looked at you thoughtfully.
"So when they wouldn't hand over what they stole, you decided to get it by force?"
"Yup."
"Fath-Reik, they're lying!"
But he'd already found out the truth. Your aura had been convicting, untainted by deceit unlike the three boys before him.
"You boys should know by now that you can't get anything past me. Please return what you've taken. I promise your punishment will be more lax if you do."
The decision shocked the three boys. But even so, they wouldn't go down without a fight.
"It's no fair! You always side with them!"
"Y/n told the truth. You did not. Am I to side with a thief and a deceiver? You three will spend two days in isolation. Do I make myself clear?"
The trio's pockets were emptied out. Small bags of hard candy found in them. You watched as they were hauled off to the Room. Sticking out your tongue as they passed you by.
You figured isolation was an appropriate punishment. Two days without light, food, and water. Served them right.
You made your way back towards the main village, carrying the bags of sweets. Turns out the person they were stolen from was the one you had been on your way to see.
You knocked twice on the door before entering. The old man looked up at you surprised.
"Guess who just got three jerks in trouble?" You jazzed your hands, causing Beuru to let out a disappointed sigh.
"What was Reik's punishment?"
"Two days of isolation. They were really annoying too. Anyways, here." You held out the bags towards him.
At that, he smiled.
"Glad my day wasn't ruined after all. You know something, Y/n?"
You gave a hum.
"You might be the only kid I can stand. You've still got sticky fingers though. Now, you know what you hafta do if you want one of my deserts."
Because Old Mr. Beuru had to beg Reik for an oven. The only one in the entire village, just so he could bake to impress the old lady he liked. And she'd been the only one he baked for until you came along. His conditions had ranged from various trivia during the time he was growing up.
With that being said, you started humming up an old tune. Then danced in a way that was completely old-fashioned.
"I already had Shura play the Charleston several times, so I'd say I'm a pro now." You bragged, promptly falling flat on your butt afterwards.
The old man laughed, bagging you up something that looked chocolate. His expression turned serious as he handed it off to you.
"Speaking of Shura, don't tell her about what happened here. Okay?"
"Why not, she worries about you, you know?"
"That's exactly why. She's all grown up now. She doesn't need to worry about me when she's got her own life going on."
It was something you didn't understand at the time. Not wanting your child to worry about you. But you sure as hell understood it in the present.
"Now get back home. Isn't your sick sister waiting?" Beuru jested.
"Yeah, yeah. See you around, fossil," you threw over your shoulder as you left.
"Die in a hole, gremlin."
When you'd returned to your home, you had to dodge several of your peers to make it to your room. Most of them wondering what happened with you this time.
You never liked how quickly word would get out.
It didn't matter anyways. Their opinion on you didn't matter. The only one whose you really cared out was...
"Hey, Kari. How's the cold coming along?"
Said girl peaked her head out of a pile of blankets before ducking back down.
"I'm dying. This is the end for me. Remember the Alamo."
You walked over to her bed snickering. Harshly pulling the covers down as she shrieked.
"The Alamo, huh? You've been spending too much time with Deshin."
She pouted up at you. Fighting in a tug of war to cover herself again.
"You've been spending too much time with Deshin. I heard you got in a fight today."
"Yeah cuz' they made me mad. Don't you wanna know why?"
"No." She replied.
You pinched her cheek in retaliation, grinning at her noise of protest.
"Fine. Be that way. It's not like I went out of my way to bring you something special. Me? Never."
Kari quickly shot up at your words. Honey colored eyes beaming as you dropped the bag into her lap.
"You do love me!"
"No duh. You better share!"
Now Kari hadn't been a prodigy like you. In fact, she was the exact opposite. She was way behind the rest of her age group. Not even capable of reading the auras of those around her.
Tracker was off the list of what she would become.
She had a basic understanding of nen and was an enhancer from what you gathered. But she had trouble fighting. Severely lacking when it came to speed.
That scratched Trapper too.
You figured she would've been a trader. Then again, she wasn't very good with people. Most of the one's she interacted with treated her less than because of her weak nen.
She just didn't really fall into any role of the clan. And that made her a target for the older age groups. It's why you met in the first place.
If there was one good thing that clan taught you, it was that your family didn't have to be blood related.
You stood up for her, and ever since then, she'd been one of your own. Your little sister by choice. You'd done your best to coach her. Slowly helping her make improvements in her strength.
And while she was improving, it wasn't fast enough.
That night, the two of stayed up watching the stars. Intertwining hands and making signs while you ate whatever sweet Beuru had made.
It wasn't too long after that things started falling apart.
Your clan hadn't been made up of just any hunters. They were all Blacklist Hunters. Doing unsavory work in the shadows to keep the clan mostly isolated.
Children, like you and her, were trained from the age of three and up to perfect their nen. Prepared by the age of twelve to take the Hunter Exam in order to properly provide for the clan.
Always for the good of the clan.
But in the meantime, most kids with advanced nen would shadow the adults on their mission. You were one of three who had that privilege. The others being your 'best friend' and a girl a year older than you.
It was one of these missions you'd just been selected for. However, you had a condition if you were gonna help out.
Kari had to come with you.
It was more of you wanting her to get experience than it was because you wanted to spend time with her.
Nevertheless, she was allowed to come with you. Your task was to locate an undercover crime boss from his picture. Hers was to be there to catch him when he got scared out.
Finding the man was easy. Based on his stature and preferred traveling habits, you were able to find him in a week. Following the cruel and murky aura all the way to his hideout.
The easy part was done. The hard part would soon begin.
"If you see anything, act. Don't be scared, okay?" You ordered the small girl.
She nodded in return.
With that, you took off with the others in your group. You'd immediately been shot at as you entered. Dodging from side to side and trying to find some cover. Luckily, one of the people you were with had a reflecting ability. Nearly cutting the size of goons in half.
The rest worked on fishing out the leader. Two of the potential targets started running towards the exit. You were only fast enough to catch one. Cracking their skull on the pavement with a kick as the other escaped.
From Kari's perspective, she saw a man fleeing. And remembering your words, used a weak strand of nen to hold him down.
"Please stay still mister. It'll only be worse if you don't." Truthfully, she didn't want to kill anybody. She was counting on you to take care of it, like you always did.
The captive struggled against the bind before begging.
"Please! What is it you people want!?! Money??? I've got plenty! I can send thousands if you let me go! Little girl you don't want to be doing this!"
Kari closed her eyes and raised up her foot. Preparing to end his life. For you. She was gonna do this for you and nobody else. Only here because you stuck your neck out for her. She didn't want to tarnish your reputation.
Then the man said something. Something that completely stopped her in her tracks.
"I HAVE A FAMILY, PLEASE!!!"
She opened her eyes shocked. It was never really something she thought about before. These targets they'd been pursuing had still been people. People with lives and loved ones.
Was it really justified ending their lives?
Was a clan built on blood really something to be proud of?
Who were they to determine if someone should live or die?
It made her feel icky the more she thought about it. Someone paid for this man to die. Or rather, they paid for him to suffer. The rule: No witnesses, no survivors had been a Mizaki invention. He didn't have to die.
So then why were they doing it?
And with her newfound revelation, she released her nen from the man. He hardly spared a glance back at her as he ran. She barley felt your confused aura from behind her.
"Why did you hesitate?"
She jumped at the sound of your voice. Figuring you'd be angry she let him get away.
"It didn't feel right." She justified.
You could only scrunch your face in confusion.
"Why not? He was the guy we were looking for. If you didn't want to kill him, you should've just held him down for me or one of the others."
"It's not that...I didn't think it was right for him to die."
It was an odd thing for you to hear. Of course it was right. It was for the good of the clan. But Kari was younger than you. She wasn't used to this. It made sense that she wouldn't understand. You knew she would in time.
"Then I won't bring you in on any more 'people' missions. Okay? But right now we have to find that man before the others find out. Messing up means a punishment from father."
But it was too late. A thud sounded ahead of you. One of the others had already caught up to your target. And they didn't look too happy about it.
"YOU ALMOST LET HIM GET AWAY! I WANNA KNOW WHO'S RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!" An older woman lectured.
Before Kari could take the blame, you stepped forward.
"It was me. I miscalculated and he slipped away. I'm sorry."
You always did this. Always vouched, always protected, always accepted the responsibility. And Kari hated it.
It wasn't fair to you.
Yet she said nothing. A fear that if she spoke, she'd be banished from the clan or worse.
She looked on regretfully as you were seated in front of Reik for questioning. She could do nothing except hope you'd be back soon.
Meanwhile, you were sweating buckets. You didn't like lying to Father. He could see through anyone with his eyes.
"Back here in less than a month? It's not like you, little one. From what I gather, you let the target go. Is that correct?"
The air felt tense...But you wouldn't give your sister up that easily.
"Yes, Father. It was my fault we almost lost him."
You were kneeled down before him with your head bowed. Trying to make yourself appear smaller.
"Really? Someone with as much precision as you let the target get away? This hasn't happened to you before. Were you distracted? I'm aware that Kari was with you."
You tensed up, already knowing you'd been found out. But you were stubborn, no matter the odds.
"She was. But I was alone when he got away. She had nothing to do with it."
Your aura was heavy with deceit.
"Y/n, tell me the truth. Kari was the one who let him get away, wasn't she?"
"...No, it was me. It was my fault."
You flinched as you saw him raise a hand in your peripheral. You were surprised when it cupped your cheek, guiding you to meet his eye.
"You should know I'm very proud of you. Not many would stick up for those they cared about when facing punishment. You have a loyalty that runs deep. A quality that makes for a strong hunter."
But as quickly as the warmth came, it was taken. The hand cupping your cheek moved back and slapped you. Your head turning from the force.
"But you out of everyone knows you can't keep things from me. I accept nothing less than the truth. This isn't a matter of stolen goods, this concerns our clan as a whole. I'm disappointed that you would jeopardize that."
The left side of your face was numb. A dark handprint already forming on your skin.
"I'm truly sorry." You quickly placed your head on the floor and put a hand over your heart.
"I didn't mean anything by it. I swear I didn't. Please find it in your heart to forgive me."
"Of course I forgive you, just as I have forgiven those boys. But you still have to face your punishment. The one meant for Kari."
"Yes, Father."
"A week in isolation with the bare necessities. But before you go, I want you to think about something. You risk everything for that girl. You suffer for her. Lie for her. But what has she ever done for you besides get you in trouble? Your loyalty is everlasting and patient, but how much more will she put you through without anything in return? That is all. I hope the week will fly by for you."
You didn't know what to feel at the moment. You'd been praised for protecting Kari, then questioned on if it was the right thing to do.
You loved her, and she loved you.
Right?
She was always there for you when you got back. She always stayed up with you to watch the stars. Always engaged in silent conversations with you.
But then again, Kari never went on any missions you didn't. She never got tired like you and would stay up way past when you fell asleep. She only learned sign language because you found the book on it. She never really got you anything like you had through bartering.
You always covered up for her.
But you did it because you wanted to, not because she asked.
Everything you did for her, you never expected anything in return. Nothing except her support.
Was she supposed to be returning all these favors?
Were you going about this all wrong?
Father seemed to think so.
And maybe it did make you bitter that you were alone in the dark. Maybe you were upset that she didn't finish the target off simply because she didn't want to. Maybe you were upset that she kept blowing the chances you gave her.
Maybe you were tired of doing so much for so little in return.
But it wasn't as black and white as you were lead to believe. As soon as you'd been sentenced, Kari made her way to Reik.
"Is Y/n gonna be okay?" She asked.
"Y/n is facing a week of isolation in your place. They were very adamant on doing so. You should feel so fortunate to have someone who cares that much about you." It was said lightly.
But Kari couldn't help but feel like something malicious was hidden underneath.
"Why so harsh a punishment? It really wasn't all that bad."
She froze as she was met with small glare.
"It could've put our clan in danger. No witnesses, no survivors. If Y/n gets it in their head that it's okay to let our targets go, then they'll do it more frequently. They'll start to lag behind their age group. Right now they have a good chance of taking over the reigns when they're older.
I understand you two are close, but I fear your influence might make them soft. Make them weak. Perhaps it's for the best you two are less involved. It's for the well being of the clan that they don't fall behind. You understand that, right little one?"
And Kari's heart just about broke.
She had never viewed Reik as a father figure. He'd never been as kind to her as he was with you. And now that he verbalized he felt she was dragging you down, she could only dislike him more.
He didn't love you. He didn't love any of you. He just viewed you as a tool to get ahead.
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
To say Gon and Killua were shocked would be an understatement. They knew that Palm was 'weird', having met her only once. But this was just absurd.
Apparently her nen ability allowed her to find and contact Bisky, of all people. Saying she did a little research. Whatever that meant. They were too weirded out to ask.
But it might've been for the best. Bisky had helped them out before. She'd been the one to help refine their nen attacks. Surely she could make them strong enough to defeat Morel's students.
Her first reaction upon seeing the boys again was anger. Hitting the both of them over the head for even thinking about completing their training in just a week.
Her next response was confusion. Noticing a very familiar presence was missing.
Yours.
"Hey boys, where's Y/n?" She questioned.
She was sure you left with them. Maybe something happened. And judging by the sulking expressions they wore, something did. Both of them deflating at the mention of your name.
"They didn't die, did they?"
Gon's head quickly shot up. Shocked and in disbelief that Bisky thought you'd die so easily.
"No! Y/n would never! They're just gone for the time being."
"So dead."
This time it was Killua who spoke up, not wanting any further confusion.
"They're back at the NGL with our other friend. Y/n's training and probably looking for him. We…We got ambushed back there. Which is why we need to get as strong as possible quickly."
Bisky nodded, getting a grasp on the situation. She knew you were a bit flaky from your reaction on Greed Island, but maybe that could work in her favor.
Give these boys a little more incentive to push themselves.
"That's even more of a reason you should take training seriously. What do you think is gonna happen when the month's over and you don't show up? They'll be disappointed is what."
"Is it really gonna take a month?" Gon asked.
"Kite's back there, too. The sooner we get both of them out, the better." He justified.
There was something determined in his eye.
But it took more than determination to win battles. Especially up against hunters that had plenty of experience. It was best to take things slow and use up all of the available time.
It'd help them out in the long run.
"A month for sure. Now let's get started! We're going all the way back to the basics!" Bisky announced, causing grumbles from both boys.
You were strong enough to hold out for a month, right?
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
It was a murky day when you were released. Humid and cloudy. You hated it. Your footsteps lagged towards your home. You didn't think you wanted to see her right now. You'd spent so much time thinking about what Reik said.
So much time wondering if it was all true.
You hesitantly opened the door to your shared room. The creaking of the door signaling your arrival.
You were surprised to be engulfed in a hug. Why were you surprised? A mess of curls tickling your nose. You hesitated to wrap your arms around her.
"I missed you big sib. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you were in the Room for so long."
You just couldn't find it in yourself to be mad at her. No, she hadn't intentionally left you in the trenches. And you truly were a sucker for anything she did. A crumb of her affection and Father's words faded just like that.
"I missed you, too. Anything big happen while I was gone?" You already knew the answer.
"No. I've been completely bared from shadowing. That's about it...Oh! Shura said she'd play your favorite song when you got out. The one about fall."
She beamed up at you. You couldn't help but smile back.
"Really? How about we go see her right now? I'm sure she's still outside since it hasn't rained yet." A nice melody on the piano was just what you needed right now.
"And if she's not, can we just walk around instead?"
"Sure...But first I have to see Father. I need to get my next assignment before I get rusty."
You grabbed her hand and prepared to pull, but she didn't budge. You looked back at her in confusion.
"Something wrong, Kar?"
"That man isn't my father, and he's not yours either." Her tone was angry. Eyes glaring down at the floorboards.
It shocked you. She was never mad at anything. You didn't even register her words fully.
"What? Are-Are you okay? I know he's not really my dad, but-"
"You know what he really thinks of you? Of us? He thinks I'm a burden to you. He thinks of you as a tool for the clan. It's not right."
Her same words from that night.
But it only made your two loyalties clash. Your respect for Reik and your love for Kari.
"I don't know where all this is coming from, but please stop. You know you're not a burden to me. I love you. And I already know what I am. My purpose is to do what's best for the clan. To get stronger for my people."
She gaped at you for a moment. Then frustration radiated off of her.
"AND YOU'RE OKAY WITH THAT!?! YOU MEAN NOTHING TO HIM AS A PERSON, AND YOU DON'T CARE!?!"
You could feel your own frustration start to increase.
"I didn't say that. I said it's my duty to get stronger for my people. Father sees my potential as a way to do it. That doesn't mean he doesn't care about me!"
She gave a cruel laugh.
"You're in denial! He doesn't love you! Why can't you see that!?! You're so brainwashed you can't even see what he has you doing! He's making you kill people!!! Normal kids don't do that!!!!"
"Well we're not normal! We're Mizaki! The best of the best! Sometimes that means getting our hands dirty! It's how it is! Why can't you see that!?!?"
"BECAUSE IT'S NOT RIGHT! THESE PEOPLE HAVE FAMILIES! THEY HAVE OTHERS WHO CARE ABOUT THEM! WE AREN'T IN THE RIGHT TO SAY WHO LIVES OR DIES! THINK ABOUT IT! WE DON'T HAVE TO KILL ALL OF THEM! IT'S DEAD OR ALIVE, NOT DEAD! WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME WE SPARED SOMEONE WHO WASN'T A BABY!"
"WE HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY! IT'S NOTHING PERSONAL, SO WHY ARE YOU TREATING IT LIKE IT IS! GOD WHY CAN'T YOU BE LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE!!!"
Your eyes widened when you realized what you said. It was too late to take it back. You could tell by the tears now streaming by her face.
"Kar, you know I didn't-"
"I hate you."
Your blood ran cold. You didn't know how to handle this. She'd never said that to you before. And sure you had your fights, but never like this.
"You don't mean that." Your voice was pleading.
"I hate you. Just go away. Run away to Reik like you always do. You love him more than me anyways."
She pushed past you and out the door.
You could only stand in the center of the room. Mulling over everything that was said. Crying softly as you realized she meant every word.
She really did hate you, didn't she?
You should've kept your mouth shut. You just had to go and ruin everything.
🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘
You threw up for the fifth time today. Already two weeks in and you still couldn't do it. You still couldn't stand the feeling of blood.
You managed to desensitize yourself some when it came to seeing it. The blue blood, at least. You didn't think you could handle red blood.
The feeling of it splattering against your skin or landing on your clothes was enough for you to panic. Collecting the rain and using it to rub your skin clean. To wash away the sticky liquid from your face.
Scrubbing away until your skin was raw. And even then, you still felt filthy.
Your ears picked up a whirring sound. Something was flying towards you. You had a good feeling you knew what it was.
You could feel the bloodlust before you saw the ant. It looked at you with a hungry expression. You were so damn tired of killing these things.
Trying to take out your frustrations on them, only to feel even worse after. It didn't help that you felt two more incredibly malicious auras awaken during the week.
Two more royal guards.
And you couldn't do a damn thing about it unless you wanted to die.
For now, you kept yourself busy with the weaker ones that approached you. Thinking you were easy prey.
"See that line," you said as you pointed to a straight line in the dirt.
"As long as you don't cross that, I'll let you live. I don't care what else you do." Your voice was tired, but healed.
It didn't sting anymore when you spoke.
"You think you can scare me? I'll eat your flesh from your bones!"
The ant lunged towards you. With a snap of your finger, it's body was left hanging in front of you. Dead in a matter of seconds.
You released your nen and watched it fall. The blue spittle from its mouth landing on your shoe. Your stomach immediately churning in disgust.
Make that six times.
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
The days seemed to fly by with Bisky's rigorous training. Gon and Killua were already two weeks in. Two weeks of forcing themselves to keep ren as long as possible. Two weeks of fighting Knuckle immediately after.
Two weeks of worrying about you.
It was the middle of the afternoon and they were still struggling to maintain their Ren. Going on the second hour when small thuds sounded at the window.
It was raining, and heavily by the sound of it.
Both boys immediately lost all the fight in them. Giving up on maintaining their aura and looking dejectedly outside.
The rain.
You always smelled like fresh rain.
Something that had been odd, yet comforting.
It was like they just couldn't escape your presence. Unable to focus on training anymore now that they had been reminded of you. Missing you even more now that they couldn't avoid a scent so reminiscent of yours.
"Hey! What's the matter with you two!?! Training isn't over yet!" Bisky scolded.
But neither of them paid her any mind. Instead, watching as it continued pouring outside. Wondering how you were doing out there.
Did you have some shelter from the rain?
Were you warm?
Had you been able to find something to eat?
Things they were sure would have been laughable to you.
"Can we take a break? Just until the rain stops." Gon asked, earning a confused look from Bisky.
"Why? You know we don't have time to be wasting. We only have two weeks left."
She couldn't, for the life of her, understand why now of all times they would want to take a break .It wasn't like they were training outside in the rain. And even then, she'd still make them work.
"You wouldn't understand. Either way, we don't feel like training right now. Not while it's still raining. We won't be able to focus," Killua explained.
It's not that he didn't trust Bisky, but the reason was just too embarrassing to tell her. Especially with Palm eyeing them from the kitchen.
"Fine. But don't expect any breaks for two days, got it?"
The duo nodded, relieved they'd been allowed a small moment of peace.
Killua quickly went to crack open a window. Allowing the sound of rain to be more prominent throughout the small home.
Gon went into the room that had been yours. Eyeing the messy sheets with a bittersweet feeling.
They'd spent about a week taking care of you here. Making sure you wouldn't die of blood loss. That you'd make a full recovery. And then you'd let in a hurry.
He grabbed the comforter you wrapped around the two of you that night. Dragging it out to the spot Killua had chosen.
The both of them sat down, tossing one side of the comforter over to the other. Basking in the warmth it brought along with your scent.
Almost like you were here, giving them a hug.
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
It was only five days after your fight that you'd been assigned to shadow another mission. You didn't get a chance to apologize. She'd avoided you too well for you to even make the effort.
But you thought hard about what she said.
You didn't have a problem if Reik didn't really care about you. At the end of the day, he was a mentor. Made to make you stronger. And if that was the extent of your relationship, then so be it.
You only cared about if Kari loved you, and the longer it took to make amends, the less likely it would be.
The thing you really took to heart was her accusations towards the way the clan was ran. She was right about them not having to always kill a target.
She was right about many of them having families. You'd heard so many pleas that you eventually became desensitized. Maybe you could prove a point. Maybe you did have a choice and the clan just went with the easiest one.
It was just your luck that Deshin was shadowing with you. A boy your age with a mixture of black and white hair. Thus the nickname you gave him: cookies'n cream.
He was your rival in a sense. Always competing and pushing to out do each other. It became a friendship built on mutual respect. You argued and teased each other, but that's what kept things interesting.
Your assignment today was to stop anyone inside the building from escaping. A mundane job but considering you took the blame for the last guy escaping, it was only fair.
You scanned inside the building with your eyes as the others went in. It was a decently sized house. You couldn't help but pity whoever was inside.
You'd never done that before.
You watched the relaxed auras inside become overrun with fear. The little blimps of life disappearing one by one. A few screams here and there.
Then you saw one approaching the exit. It was a woman who appeared injured. Blood trailing down her head as she ran.
You quickly intercepted her. Her frantic aura calmed a bit upon seeing you.
"Oh, sweetie. You have to get out of here now. There are bad people inside. We have to run while we can, c'mon!"
You hesitated as she extended a hand out to you.
There was so much sympathy radiating off of her. Motherly, was the feeling. A stranger that was warning you about your own people.
It was dumbfounding.
Father never had this much softness in his aura when he addressed you.
The screams from the building started to quiet down. The woman only further urged you to come with her. Was that guilt you were starting to feel.
A job was a job.
But maybe, things could go differently this time.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am. But there's a bounty on someone who lives here. We have to take in everyone by association no matter what. Please don't take this personally."
She looked at you like she hadn't heard right. Then her panic was full force once again.
She let out a yelp as you summoned your nen to restrain her.
"Please! Please don't do this! My son, he's inside! Please, if you have any humanity at least let him live!"
You couldn't handle her pleas anymore. Using your aura to knock her out. This....This all felt wrong.
You knew if her son was an infant, he'd be fine. Maybe, she would be fine too.
You startled as you felt someone from the group approach. Another older woman. She looked between you and your still breathing captive.
"Why is she still alive. You have your orders."
You glanced down at the lady. Remembering Kari's words.
Dead or alive. Not just dead.
"Why...Why can't we let them live? Why can't we just leave?"
Your superior looked at you like you just grew two heads. Her surprise was replaced by a scowl.
"Because Reik said so. You know better than anyone else we can't hesitate. We have to finish the job we were given."
She moved towards your captive, pressing her shoe against her face.
"No don't-!"
'SMASH!'
A harsh stomp combined with a booming crunch as blood poured from what once was that woman's head.
"You've become soft, Y/n."
But all you could focus on was the blood pooling under that woman. She didn't deserve this. You could have saved her. You could have let her go.
The crimson liquid eventually reached you. Grazing the boots you were wearing before you stepped back. A feeling of disgust and something scared guided your actions.
Your eyes never leaving the body. Then all at once you felt vile start to rise in your throat. You quickly turned away and started heaving over a bush.
Shaking with tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. An innocent person's blood on your shoe. Dirtied and tainted.
You were tainted.
The woman watching you only scoffed. You were acting like a toddler in the middle of a mission.
You felt a hand reach out for you and shrugged it off.
"Don't touch me!"
You backed away and were met with a very concerned gaze.
"Woah, gap-tooth. Are you okay?"
It might've been the only time Deshin showed actual concern for you. But that was because you've never acted like this before. You weren't fazed by the sight of blood. Or at least you hadn't been.
You were supposed to be one of the greats, just like him. But right now, you were weak.
"I-I need to go. Right now."
You made a move to leave, but were stopped by a firm grip on your wrist.
"Is this about the fight with Kari? She told me you two got upset with each other. Maybe you just need a break. You're probably just stressed."
This was not stress.
This was a horrific revelation.
"Please, not right now." You were about five seconds away from crying. And then your reputation would be ruined. If it wasn't already.
You'd already been disgraced in front of your peers.
"Then let me walk you back. You're not in your right mind to go by yourself." Deshin could be just as persistent as you.
And this time, you appreciated it.
You gave a nod before scampering away. Going as fast as you could through the trees. Deshin was hot on your trail. Helping you when you would mistep.
You made it back to your home by daybreak. This time, jumping up to your window instead of going through the inside.
You didn't want to deal with anyone else right now.
You fell into your room, collapsing on the floor. Finally in the comfort of solitude, you broke down. Skittering towards a wall and throwing off your boots.
They were tainted.
"Dirty. I'm dirty. I'm gross! I'm gross I'm gross!"
You were sobbing openly now as you hugged your knees to your chest.
"Dirty Dirty Dirty!"
You were unaware of your surroundings at the moment. Not noticing worried honey colored eyes watching your breakdown.
She may have been mad at you, but she'd never seen you cry before. She'd never seen you this broken before.
What did they do to you?
What did they say?
She took small steps towards you. Inching closer and closer until she could reach out and touch you.
You let out a scream feeling arms wrap around you.
"NO! DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T!"
But the hug was tight. A head rested on top of yours despite the struggling.
"Shhh. It's okay. I'm here, Y/n. You're here with me." Kari tried to soothe.
You froze up at the sound of her voice. The feeling of her folding your fingers over and over again to sign out 'safe', helped calm you.
You sniffled as she continued to hold you.
"You were right. We don't have a choice. I tried. I really did, but they just killed her. Ari made me watch. I-I-I felt the blood under my shoe. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She didn't like the way you cried harder. She didn't like how she was right. She hoped deep down that she was wrong. That maybe she was just jealous about the attention you gave Reik.
She wished that was the case.
If it were, then she wouldn't have to watch her big sibling break right in front of her.
"I'm sorry, for saying that I hated you. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to get mad at you. Maybe if I hadn't, you'd be okay."
You shook your head against her.
"Not your fault."
Then your next words came as a shock to her.
"We have to get out of here. I don't want to be apart of this anymore. That lady, she wanted to help me, and I got her killed. I don't wanna do it anymore. I don't want to hurt people anymore."
You wanted to leave.
And so did she.
But it was practically unheard of to leave the clan unless it was for business. Could the two of you really do it?
"Hey, Y/n?"
You clutched her tighter in response.
"Promise me. You have to promise me you won't listen to them anymore. Not to any of the superiors and not to Reik. Okay?"
Her pinkie intertwined with yours.
"I promise." You whispered.
"Now can we do one more? A real promise this time."
She summoned her faint nen into her palm. You couldn't do anything but follow suit. Still in a daze from what happened.
"Let's promise that neither of us will ever fight or kill another human being again."
You nodded. Pulling back to look her in the eye. Taking a breath before starting the chant.
"On this day I do declare, it's on my nen that I swear."
A burning sensation tingled on your wrist. By the uncomfy look on Kari's face, she felt it as well.
You two would find a way out of here.
Without hurting anyone else.
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
Week three, and Gon was already on his way to fight Knuckle. Killua had stayed behind to have a talk with Bisky.
Lucky, she was probably gonna give him some secret pointers.
Nevertheless, he approached the usual spot. A small huddle of dogs surrounded the Beast Hunter. You would have definitely liked Knuckle. You probably would have argued with him first, but you would've come around.
Just like with Kite.
He hoped the both of you were still okay.
"You ready, kid?" Knuckle taunted as he stood up. The dogs around him whining at his lack of attention.
"You bet! Today for sure, I just know it!" Gon did in fact not know it. But he was hopeful he was getting better.
Then the thundering started.
And the rain once again followed suit.
It'd been doing that a lot lately. Maybe it was the universe playing a cruel trick. Whatever the reason for the murky weather, it didn't matter.
He lost all his fire anyway. Shoulders dropping and expression glum.
"Geez, you look like somebody just died. Are you sure you're good to fight? Not that I care or anything, punk!" Knuckle tried and failed to hide his concern.
It didn't hurt to give him an honest answer.
"I'm sorry Mr. Knuckle, but it looks like our fight's canceled."
"You scared of the rain or something?"
"No, nothing like that. It's just…the rain reminds me of my big sibling. You see, right now they're waiting in the NGL for me and Killua. They left to train, same as us. And neither of us can focus now when it rains. We just start thinking about them and if they're okay. If they've found our other friend there.
We just miss them. I really miss them. So I hope you don't mind that I can't fight you now. I really don't mean you any disrespect." Gon looked at Knuckle expecting to see him angry.
Instead, he was sniffling and wiping his eyes. When he noticed Gon's staring, he gave a halfhearted glare.
"I'm not crying, so don't you go telling people I am! I just have something in my eye! Now go on home and get a good night's rest! I better not see you out here when it rains ever again! You'll *sniff* catch a cold!"
Gon held back a laugh as he walked away.
"Okay! I won't! Thank you Mr. Knuckle!"
🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️🌑☀️
You couldn't find any information on people who'd left the clan. Not even an old excerpt. Like the thought never occurred to anyone. As if it never happened.
Soooo, you resorted to just asking around. Your first attempt was old Mr. Beuru.
"Hey, dinosaur. I've got a question for you."
He swatted at you with an old dusty news paper.
"Yeah, well spit it out, demon. I open in ten minutes."
"What happens to people who leave the clan?"
He froze. All the color draining from his face. For a brief moment, you thought he was having a heart attack. You could feel uncertainty start to rise within his aura. You couldn't help but notice the worry there as well.
"Get out of my store." It sounded cold, but his being was regretful. Like he didn't want to be doing this.
"It's just a question. It's not like-"
"Get out and stay out. Don't ever come back here. I mean it, Y/n."
He'd never used your name before. Not unless he was serious.
It stung.
"Geez, fine. Not like an old man like you would know anyways." You left disheartened.
He wasn't joking. He didn't want you to come back.
And as he watched you leave, he sunk into himself.
"I really wish I could help ya, kid. But it's best if we both forget you asked that. I'm already at risk by not reporting that in, and who knows how many you've already asked. I have to look after my own.
May Reik have mercy on your soul."
The next few people you asked had similar reactions. All going deadly silent before turning you away. It must've been a taboo subject.
You decided there was one more person you'd question: Shura. One of the nicest people you've ever met. You knew she'd help for sure.
You followed the sound of light piano strokes. A feathery voice accompanying it.
"He’d take a very nice lady and talk her down small, till she fits in the palm of his hand.
Keeps his love on the shelf, only thinks about himself.
And that’s a cold-hearted man~"
You wasted no time shoving yourself to the front. Elbowing anyone who got in your way.
She stopped playing just in time to see you.
"Ms. Shura! I've got something to ask you! But in private tho because people keep acting weird!"
She laughed at your remark. Giving a playful roll of her eyes before addressing you.
"Only you, Y/n. Please make it quick. You know how restless everyone gets. You included." She got up and followed you a little ways away from the small crowd.
"Now, tell me what's on your mind."
"I already asked your dad if he knew, but he was just a grouch about it. And so are a lot of the people I've asked. I know you won't be though. Okay here goes.
What happens if someone leaves the clan?"
And like clockwork, she paled. Looking at you with panic.
"I can't-I'm not sure-" she stuttered for a response.
"Oh honey, just what have you gotten yourself into to. How many people have you asked?"
"Dunno. Like ten."
She took a shakey sigh. Grief radiating off of her.
"... Those who leave the clan are thought of as traitors. And because they hold our secrets, they have to be...."
There was so much sadness in her eyes. All of it directed towards you.
"They're dealt with the way we deal with targets. And talks about leaving are treated like treason. The punishment is the same.....I-oh, Y/n. You can't stop by here anymore."
You were once again being pushed away. And this time you wanted to know why.
"Why? Is there some penalty for talking to me now?"
"Sweety, I've already said too much. You have to go home right now. Please, it's for your own good."
That caught your attention. Were you putting her at risk by talking about it? What did she mean by for your own good? You didn't get the chance to ask as she quickly backed away.
Leaving you standing confused.
You reported it all back to Kari, who had just about as much luck as you. With no other conclusion other than the both of you would die if you were caught, it was time to devise a plan.
You waited two weeks. Learning the paths each individual would take during both the day and night. Who would come and go.
With the recent change and in weather, you decided a rainy night would be the best chance. Nobody would be out. And if they were, you'd be able to handle them.
"Hey, Y/n. When we get out, you promise we'll stay together?"
You gave a wide smile at her question.
"Forever and beyond. But we gotta have some basic goals, don't you think? Let's have a big house!"
"And a dog! I want a puppy." She added.
You nodded excitedly.
"Ooh! I've got a great one! Let's go to one of those amusement parks! I wanna ride the big circle! I heard you can see everything from the top."
"I think they call that one a Ferris wheel. But yeah! Anything else?"
"Not that I can think of. But I have a feeling we'll come up with more."
It was one of the last interactions you ever had with her. One last bit of peace before everything went wrong.
You waited for the thundering sound of rain. Cracking open your window when it was in full force. You jumped down, bracing your legs against the force.
'Now you.'
You made exaggerated signs so she'd be able to see.
Kari gave a brief nod and jumped. You caught her with ease. Setting her down and making sure to have a firm grip on her hand.
"We walk. They might suspect something if we run." You whispered before leading her forwards.
You two moved in silence. The rain masking any potential audible steps. So far so good. You were about halfway through the village.
You were really gonna do it.
You were really gonna leave.
You could feel your heart beating in your chest. Both out of nerves and excitement.
"It's about time. We were starting to wonder when you'd try to leave."
The both of you froze. Angry and disappointed auras surrounded the two of you.
You shouldn't have asked around.
You shouldn't have tried to get information.
You really should have took Beuru's reaction as a sign.
Maybe then you wouldn't be here so afraid. So terrified of dying.
But you had a responsibility. You had something to protect right now. As long as she got out safe, you'd accept whatever happened to you.
You could feel her fear. See her shaking.
"Well, what'll it be children? A swift death or will you run?" A man questioned.
You tensed up and prepared to make your move.
'Guard up.' You quickly signed.
You felt Kari engulf her body in her aura, then released your own. Pouring all your ill intentions to make it stronger.
The feeling of it caught the people in front of you off guard. Some falling down from the force.
You took that as your opportunity to run. Using all your nen into your legs and pushing them the fastest they would go.
You could sense others falling in pursuit. Barley dodging any projectiles sent your way. You prided yourself on your speed.
It was good to know that all your training had paid off. You'd urged Kari in front of you. Making sure she was ahead of everyone.
A bullet whizzed by your check.
Not good.
"Keep running! Look at me! Look at me!" You ordered. Her frantic eyes meeting yours.
"Don't stop! Not even for a second because if you do, we're dead! I'll be right behind you, Kari!"
With that you turned on the heel of your shoe. Coming face to face with a very familiar person.
"I knew something was up with you, but I never would of guessed this." Deshin sighed out.
"Maybe if you tell Father what happened, he'll spare you. Both of you. I don't want to fight you"
You took a step back from him.
Was this what you sounded like to Kari?
Oblivious to anything not under Reik's eye?
Taking his word as absolute.
"Then don't fight me. Just back off and let us go."
He flashed you a hurt look before you lunged forward. You just couldn't risk it. Not when the two of you were this close.
Your first made contact with his stomach. The attack surprising him. Not ready to block it off with his nen.
You raced after Kari as he crumpled to the floor.
"I'm sorry."
You practically leapt over the gate, following after the faint trail of Kari's aura. Your hopeful look replaced by sheer terror when you reached her.
Reik had his hand around her neck, dangling her off the floor. He met your terrified look with one of disappointment.
"Naughty children, dealing with the consequences of their actions. Look at you? Are you frightened?"
You started trembling at the intensity from his aura. So malicious and cruel. So cold and unforgiving. You wouldn't feel another one like it until 13 years later.
Your eyes unable to look away from the sight. Kari watched with panic as you took a step backwards. Then three.
"Y/N!!! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!!! DON'T LEAVE ME!!! YOU PROMISED!!!!" She struggled against the tight grip around her neck. Hopelessly kicking her legs in an attempt to get free.
Reik observed your cowardly actions with disapproval.
"Fine then, be a coward. Flee if you're so desperate to 'live.' Run if you're going to run. Use those eyes of yours to forever watch over your shoulder. But no matter how fast you are or how far you go, we will always be able to find you. Whether it be a whisper of your name or a spark of your aura, your fate is sealed."
A sickening 'snap' reverberated throughout the forest.
You didn't even get the chance to see her body hit the floor. Already fleeing as fast as you could. Pushing your legs the fastest they would go and then some.
You didn't stop for a whole day. Collapsing on the ground when you felt like you were far enough. You stayed on the floor unmoving.
Most likely you were going into shock.
You made no move to get up, even as you were shivering from the cold. Your clothes completely soaked through.
You laid there cold and now hungry.
But you didn't move, not an inch….
Because you deserved to suffer for her death.
You knew you were in the alleyway of some city, but that was all. You knew nothing aside from that. Your mind unable to process everything that just happened.
The first few days ended up with you reaching for Kari, only to find out she wasn't there.
It took you about a month to come to terms with your current situation. And when you did, you cried. You sobbed until your eyes and throat hurt. She was gone. She was gone and you couldn't even have a proper burial for her.
You were free, but at what costs?
🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘
The first year you tried to make an honest living. Asking around if anybody had food or water to spare.
You learned very quick the world wasn't too kind to street rats.
If you weren't ignored, you were yelled at for bothering them.
It got to the point where you were so hungry, you stole an old loaf of bread from a dumpster. The owner of the establishment catching you in the act.
He chased you down, along with some other men. And due to your malnourishment, you didn't have to strength to outrun them.
Instead, curling into a ball as you tripped. Clinging onto to only food you would have in days.
Pain.
Excruciating pain.
Your first response when they started kicking you was to get up and fight back. But as you sat up and caught one of their legs, your wrist started burning.
Your promise to Kari.
You wouldn't have minded breaking it. You had no use for nen now that you'd been exiled from your clan.
But it was the only thing you had left of her.
So you endured it.
You let them beat you down until they got tired and left. Your bread smashed flat.
You weren't even hungry anymore.
🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘
By your fifth year running from city to city, you gave up on trying to survive honestly. What was the point of being a good person anymore? You already had blood on your hands.
You used your speed to your advantage, stealing the money from wallets and purses in order to feed yourself. Using whatever was left over to buy yourself cheap clothes.
Occasionally you'd steal those too.
You weren't living anymore.
You were surviving.
You had nothing except your life and the promise attached to it.
🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘
About ten years in, you stole something that would become your golden goose. An old game cartridge with a ring. The name of it: Greed Island.
You remembered hearing about this. Some hunter dude made it. And from what you recalled, it was a very rare game. Going for billions at auction houses.
But you stopped caring about money years ago. No, what you were interested in was what the game did.
It teleported people inside.
Away from the real world.
You'd finally be able to stop looking over your shoulders. You wouldn't have to worry about maintaining your zetsu.
So you went to one of those bidder places and promised you'd beat the game. Choosing whatever three cards they wanted if you were able to play.
The idiot, of course agreed.
And you'd spent two years there. Isolated because it was better that way. Card raiders showing up every now and then. But you showed them why it would be wise to stay away from you.
Terrifying them to the point they avoided your little territory. And you were content to live that way. Content to spend the rest of your days there.
Until the boys showed up.
And now you were here.
🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘🌘
You just couldn't do it. You couldn't kill these things without triggering your hemophobia. And if you couldn't work past that, then all the time spent here was a waste. You were useless if you couldn't even stand the feeling of a drop of blood on you.
You knew there would be much more when it came time to face the queen and her guards.
Damnit.
If only there was a way for you to fight from a sizeable distance. One that wouldn't risk anything touching you. One that wouldn't exactly count as you fighting.
A weapon was out of the question. Not unless you could use a bow and arrow. And even then, you had precise calculations, aim not so much.
You weren't exactly a manipulator and trying this late in the game would be futile.
Maybe you could conjure something?
You were good at visualization. You were sure of that, even if you were a little rusty. So what then?
What would you conjure?
"Hey, Y/n! Guess what I found for us!" Kari shouted. You'd closed your ears from the noise, but were more than happy to go along.
"What'd you find?"
She lifted up the floorboard and revealed two small marionettes. A rusty clown puppet and a burnt ballerina.
"Get that out of the room right now. There's a 95% chance they're possessed." You lectured, not even bothering to touch them.
"They only look like that because I found them in a burt down farmhouse. It gives them personality. Please, can we keep them? We've never been allowed to have real toys. Please?"
And as always you were a sucker for her.
"Fine. Which one's mine and which one's yours?"
"You can have the ballerina: Shika. And I'll keep Henry."
"You give out the most horrendous names, I swear. But thank you for finding these for us."
Yeah.
Henry and Shika.
Puppets with strings.
They could be operated at a distance. And you had seen them plenty that conjuring would be a breeze. The only catch though…
Could you make them physical before time ran out?
You didn't get a chance to try it out before you were surrounded by ants. Probably a squadron if you had to guess.
"The line. Don't cross it." You warned once again.
But did they listen?
They never did.
You got up to one again use your Caster's Net. However, things just wouldn't go your way today. A fog rolled in. No, not a fog.
Smoke.
So thick you couldn't see through it. And neither could the ants judging by their confused sounds. You quickly focused your eyes to find their auras, not wanting to be ambushed.
Yet the second you did, a portal opened up under you. You fell to the ground of a small room along with the ants.
The light in there was blinding. Like a hospital room. Then you heard a voice. A familiar voice you hadn't heard in years.
"Alright, let's see if any of you prove to be a good warm up."
That old geezer.
Of course the association sent him in.
Why wouldn't they?
You didn't have anytime to control your aura before it erupted. An anger so thick, it was suffocating. The ants near you collapsing on the ground as you made your way to the front.
Netero's eyes went wide when he realized that aura was coming from you.
"So you made it after all. I thought for sure you would have stayed with those boys."
"Cut the shit. Let me out of whatever this is and I'll have the pleasure of never seeing you again." You knew you were probably being too mean. But damnit, he sanctioned and allowed the things Reik did.
Were you not supposed to be upset with that?!?
"Still rude, I see."
Your aura only intensified at the remark. You took a deep breath before calming down. You were being an idiot. Overreacting after finally letting your memories resurface.
Holding a grudge against Netero but not against the man who killed your sister?
Pathetic.
You needed to ne smart about this. Not become overwhelmed by your grief and frustration.
"Just get me out of here. I don't have the time to be upset right now. I have to be training."
At this, the old man quirked a brow.
"Training? These ants must be tougher than I thought."
"It's not the regular ants I'm worried about. It's that damn furry." You mumbled. You'd get that cat bitch back if it was one of the last things you did.
"Hey, old man? Let me ask you something. Why do you continue to associate with that man? You know what he's done. What he's still doing. Why are you still friends with him?" You wanted to know. To have bit of closure on that chapter of your life.
You figured if they hadn't come for you now, then you truly were free to live. That didn't mean you wouldn't be careful still.
"It is not my decision to associate with your-with Reik." He corrected before continuing.
"It's the Hunter's Association. I have no control over what they rule in favor of. But I suppose no one ever told you that. Not at your young age."
"I was seven. And now I don't care enough about hunters to ask around. I just wanted a straight answer, and now that I have it, get me out of here." You sounded drained.
By the dark circles under your eyes, you looked drained too.
"Very well then. I wish you luck out there."
"Suck an egg old geezer."
You remembered meeting the old man when you were younger. Reik introduced you as a prodigy, like he always did. Based on that, Netero challenged you to a game.
One he would have later challenged your two boys.
If you could take the ball from him, he would make you an honorary hunter. And back then that'd been your purpose. Your one goal.
So you played along. Almost swiping away the ball several times before giving up. You'd liked him back then.
But your perspective of all hunters had been soured since then. You didn't want anything to do with them.
And it would have stayed that way had you not met Gon and Killua. They'd shown you once again that hunters weren't all that bad.
That it was just some people who could be terrible. It didn't matter what they were. You'd changed a lot since you were a kid.
But now, you were starting to become the person you were.
The one who loved to be around their peers.
The one who loved to joke around and laugh with their loved ones.
The one who loved living instead of being forced to survive.
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Fun Fact #15: Y/n isn't a fan of sour foods. 'Why is it spicy' reaction
MASTERLIST
Tags: @fandomhoe101 @justxiao @bekataylorgriggs
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An: Sorry it took so long! We should be getting the alternate chapter for decisions in a few days. Maybe two??? Also for chapter fifteen, I present you with a choice 😏
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hxh x reader#hunter x hunter x reader#hxh x y/n#hunter x hunter x y/n#gon x reader#killua x reader#mayhaps a kite x reader???#big sib reader#older reader#found family#x reader#platonic
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Day 203
December 20, 2020
Christmas, oh, Christmas! What am I going to do with you?
When I was a child, I loved Christmas. I was fortunate enough that, even as piss poor as my parents were, they almost always found a way to make it magical… By buying me expensive presents way outside their budget.
I grew up to detest Christmas. It started pretty early on, when I discovered the presents didn’t come from a magical being but from my stressed-out parents. That broke my heart, not so much because I missed Santa, but because I felt like shit for wanting stuff and making them suffer because of my desires.
I once again fell in love with Christmas when I was with V.M. She had a way of making things magical, didn’t she? Not only did she buy me beautiful presents (which she could actually afford), but she taught me with her examples how everything in a present, from the wrapping inwards, can be a display of love. She also cooked a killer stuffed turkey I still remember fondly. It was just all the love and dedication that went into that turkey. I’d say it was not really stuffed with apples and sauce, but with love.
Once our relationship was over, I came to hate Christmas again. It was so painful! Every ass-boring “celebration” with my family and every rushed, thoughtless gift I received made me think of her. Comparisons are odious.
I enjoyed Christmas once again when I was with L.M. We gave each other amazing presents and it became a source of endless joy to see who would give the other the best gift. It was good while it lasted.
This year, don’t ask me why, but I got into the Christmas’ spirit all on my own. Maybe it was all the people at work being so nice and thoughtful, or me just becoming obsessed with Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. I had never read the original before… And I must say that I was missing what I consider a crucial piece of the Christmas puzzle. Because I think now it’s neither a Christian holiday—fuck them!—not a pagan-stolen, modernized, Coke-ified Saturnalia, but something else entirely. The Christmas I really like and love is the one that Dickens basically invented all by himself. It’s a dream of a humanity that finally sees each other for who they are: fellows worthy of love and respect, regardless of, well, everything.
So, you can imagine how excited I was this year to have an extra special, proper celebration with my family. I bought everybody amazing presents (I hoped) and almost thought about reading them A Christmas Carol after dinner. Luckily I didn’t because boy, oh, boy, did I manage to screw things up royally.
This was the first time I saw my family after the sort of, kinda coming out meeting back in Day 156. In the past six weeks everyone has decided to behave as if that moment didn’t happen and, truth be told, I wish they didn’t. I feel like I need something else from them right now. Interest? Curiosity? Genuine care? Like, I know they have their own lives and shit to worry about, but fuck! I’d give anything for them to ask, every once in a while, just how I’m doing when it comes to this. “Have you made any progress?” “What are your current thoughts on transitioning?” “What is bothering you about this?”
I don’t know. Anything but this silence, this pretending like nothing happened.
So, yeah, although I didn’t intend consciously to ruin Christmas—quite the opposite, I’d say—I have to admit that I was a little bit on edge by the end of a dinner that felt more like a nervous, walking-on-eggshells charade than a warm, cozy homecoming.
So, we were getting the presents ready around the tree, as one of my sibling was taking my niece for a walk around the block looking for Santa. I can’t remember the exact details well, but my mom said something to my other sibling and I told her something like “Relax” or similar… And my mom lost it.
She said that she didn’t want to ruin Christmas for us with her stressed presence, so she went and locked herself on my parents’ room. On Christmas night. Just when we were about to open the presents.
The charade became true at this point, but for a good cause (?). I think we didn’t want to ruin one of the first Christmas my niece will probably get to remember.
I felt like shit all night. This Christmas that I (naïvely) put so much hope into, turned into one of the worse ones I can remember. The only lucky thing was that I had already planned on coming back to the apartment, so I got the perfect excuse to leave after this shitshow.
Still, I don’t think I can come back to hate Christmas. As I said above, I think I finally got it. My Christmas is Dickensian. Christmas for me is now an ideal of kindness to strive for, a renewal of the hope in one another that gets depleted throughout the year by disappointments. This was a shitty Christmas for me, it’s true, but I still hope the next one (and whichever ones I get to experience in the future) will be better.
Until then, with love,
ZZ
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Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals - I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas
Geoff's cover of White Christmas was released on the 5th of December, 2022. As Geoff said in his Early Access post for this on Patreon, he has in fact already done this song before, all the way back in 2014 with VoicePlay (@jules-has-notes has a post about it, which you can find here), but he goes on to say that "after repeat listenings to that version, it seemed to me that it could use a bit of freshening up, and I'm always happy to oblige my own whims." And I'm certainly not complaining either! But anyway, we're not here to talk about the arrangement, we're here to talk about the video! So let's get into this!
This was filmed at PattyCake Studios, and this is the same set/backdrop that VoicePlay used in November last year for their Whiskey In The Jar video!
Geoff says in the video description "Special shout out to all of my my patrons who make these videos possible - If Daryl were here, he might be so grateful to you that he'd shed one single tear... but he's not. And he wouldn't because he's not a sentimental teddy bear like the rest of these softies." 😂 (So basically, it's Jeff, Goff, and Jeoph whom are in this video, along with "lead Geoff")
"Where the treetops glisten..."
"...and children listen"
The bit-by-bit addition of stuff into the scene is frankly an Inspired choice ngl, and I love the way the Clones react to things appearing behind them!
Fairly smooth transition with the outfit changes! If you go frame by frame, you can see a few differences in like the hand positionings and stuff, but it's barely noticeable otherwise!
(Also I wish that I could put up the Christmas tree, decorations and all, just by singing! Would make it so much easier!)
And of course I gotta shoutout to the way they all react to the outfit changes! Mostly with Lead Geoff being like :D and the Clones being like ???? 😆
To quote one of the comments: The second Geoff from the left at 0:55: 🎶"I'm dreaming of a white🎶. . . sweater?"
(Also Geoff really does like scarves huh. And plaid flannel shirts!)
"May your days, may your days, may your days be merry and bright!"
The way the scene additions sync up with the lyrics! The tree appears at the "treetops glisten" line, the gramophone for "children listen", and the lights on the tree for "merry and bright"!
There are decorations on the wall, gifts under the tree, and look! The postcard from Mele Kalikimaka in the background, below and to the right of the gramophone! (And I'm not sure if that's the same miniature tree from the Mele Kalikimaka video, but I'm 99% certain that it has the titular Christmas ornament on it that was shown at the start of that video!)
Lead Geoff got a gift, the two Clones on the left got cards, and the Clone on the right, uh, well... 😅
He got one too! It was in his coat 😄
(But also look at how festive the background is now! Apparently the creative/visuals concept stuff was a joint collaboration between Geoff and Kathy, but Geoff also gives thanks to Layne "for his help on set with filming, lighting and all of the things!")
And the stockings appearing one-by-one on the wall as a brief instrumental of Jingle Bells plays, how cute!
I didn't get around to watching this one till last year, but I immediately loved it. So happy, so wholesome, so Merry And Bright!
One more post to go in this miniseries! Until next time!
#geoff castellucci#voiceplay-adjacent visuals#voiceplay-adjacent visuals christmas#acaplaya analysis
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So I feel like I just had a crazy story-driven fever dream. All about Cartoon Network characters that maybe went to hell because let’s be honest a lot of them did some bad stuff lmao but anyways
Part one: the wattersons and the false Druid
So basically it just started off with them driving in the school councilors van in some woods. And they happen to stumble upon some weird tree thing and yes it had a face. It probably looked like that one meme lmao. But the tree was using some weird thorned crowns to place them on peoples heads and make them go crazy. The more crowns it placed the more it looked like a dragon. The wattersons were the last ones remaining and they all declined the crowns because they thought it looked like “burnt bacon” on their heads. The tree finally turned into a fully wooden tree dragon and like, grabbed a cage and threw them far away. But the cooler part I remember seeing is something started judging gumball on his relationship with penny, and how he could have done better (I honestly don’t remember much of what happened I think my head was thinking they broke up) and it showed a penny version of gumball with that same gradient, and gumball kind of turned into that??? Darwin gets jealous “why does gumball get an anime transformation and I don’t…” at that time the dream starts to transition to-
Part 2: Ed Edd n Eddy’s vacation in hell
Now we follow the classic Trio through a bunch of twists and turns. Having a hard time recalling what happened, but they were in princess bubblegum’s kingdom. Somehow, Ed had driven a Car through the multiverse and ended up destroying half of the candy kingdom with his horrible driving and suddenly they were in literal hell (HE DROVE OFFF A BRIDGE.) double D points out some obvious stuff like “Ed how the FUCK did you do that?” I remember hearing this explicitly because the dream perfectly replicated Vincent’s voice. Ed just shrugs and continues driving the car through hell. Eventually they crash again, and their car is stolen by some spider looking demon and it says Ed’s gonna have to give her a real good reason to give it back. And then Ed and Eddy just burst out into soap opera and the spider demon gives back their car. Though it’s no use because it’s destroyed.
So yeah idk what the hell this dream was BUT I think the idea of adult Ed Edd n Eddy in hell being the biggest menaces ever is kind of funny
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The First Great British Guitar Band of the 21st Century
(NME, October 1999 after the release of Showbiz)
Oh the angst! The Pain! Searching for truth in a meaning less world.. Such is life in Teignmouth. Just ask Muse, three lads who've escaped small-town hell to be the toast of America. This just looks silly.
Three 21-year-olds from the sleepy fringes of Devon, lording it up in a glitzy Manhattan hotel lounge, chomping gleefully on tree-trunk cigars like they've just shagged New York senseless and eaten the entire music business for dessert. Any minute now these straggly indie-kid interlopers are sure to be turfed out on to the sidewalk with all the other guitar toting losers, back to their Transit van world. See ya. Keep dreaming, suckers. Except this never happens. Because even if they remain just above toilet-gig level at home. Muse are trainee rock royalty in America right now. Madonna herself beat half-a-dozen bidders to sign the youngsters to her Maverick label last November. Which is why the Teignmouth trio are billeted in New York for three weeks of back-to-back promotion for an album that hasn't even been released yet.
When British record companies sniffed around Muse, they declared them 'the new Radiohead' and shuffled away. When American labels saw them in New York's CMJ in November, they declared them 'The new Radiohead!' and formed a queue to sign their asses on the spot - cultural differences or Brit snobbery? Probably a bit of both, as Muse are more than the new Radiohead - they're the new Pixies, Nirvana, Mansun, Queen and Guns N' Roses too. And in their own broody intense way, they are about to explode.
Matthew Bellamy (singer/guitarist), Chris Wolstenholme (bass) and Dominic Howard (drums) were thrown together in a dark place of stagnation and decay, despair and degradation. It's called Teignmouth. Just below Torquay on the English Riviera, Teignmouth is a black hearted realm of eternal torment from which few souls emerge unscathed. Beneath its sleepy surface of genteel retirement homes and crazy-golf ranges, something deeply wicked festers in the remorseless south Devon sun. Possibly. "It's sort of like Torquay without the nightclubs" shudders Dom. Sounds pretty sinister. Like one of those elegantly shabby red-brick English towns where it's forever 1952 apart from the raging crack problem... "I think the best way to describe Teignmouth would be if we sent you the article that was printed on the front page of the local paper," sneers Matthew. There's a picture of the mayor of Teignmouth putting our CD in the bin because apparently we said in some interview that Teignmouth is a boring place, full of drug-takers. He said "I don't know who these drug-takers are, no-one takes drugs here...' Hahaha! That gives you an idea of what the town is like." Naturally, growing up in a stifling backwater run by rock-hating killjoys straight out of Footloose, the Muse boys were sometimes suicidally bored. They even resorted to doing 'dodgy stuff' on occasion.
There was a whole lot of nights when there was nothing to do and the only stuff that was fun to do was music," recalls Matthew. "You ended up doing dodgy stuff like breaking in to swimming pools, just because that was something to do. Most of the friends we had have either gone to University or become drug dealers." Ooh, the mayor will love that. Picture a bonfire of NME's outside the town hall. But at least the nascent Muse had something to kick against. And kick they did, starting with their debut sixth form gig five years ago. "The first gig we ever played together was a Battle of the Bands contest," says Matthew. "We wore loads of make-up, played loads of trashy punk stuff and got the crowd to invade the stage and smash all our gear. And we won! That's the weird thing. Because we beat all these bands that were really technically proficient, bands that sounded like Jamiroquai. People were shouting, you fucking cunts!' That totally affected our view of what music's about - it's not necessarily about music, it's about really believing in what you're doing."
So Muse kept plugging away, ignoring their critics, trashing their gear, dreaming of the big league. They eventually signed with a West Country management company and won a UK record deal with Mushroom, home of Garbage. And now, five years later, Madonna owns their souls. Sweet revenge on snobby old Britain and tight-arsed little Teignmouth, right? "That's what started us but I don't think that's what we're doing now," says Matthew. "The stuff we write now is more of a realisation of what the world's like. It's easy to blame stuff on a small town but then you go out there and you realise that some of the attitudes that you thought were just in your small town are actually all over." Muse's debut album is called 'Showbiz'. Oh yes. Most first albums contain two or three half-great peaks padded out with fillers. 'Showbiz' has a dozen tracks. ALL of which are heart-wrenching Wagnerian uber-anthems with fiery Spanish rhythms seismic meta-choruses and bile-spewing ultra-lyrics from the scabrous depths of Matthew Bellamy's charred-black heart. In other words, it's fucking great. But, bloody hell, is it miserable. Not trouser-fumbling hey-nonny-no Belle and Sebastian wistful nor chest thumping Daddy-never-loved-me Pearl Jam feel-my-pain self pity. Not even beautifully desolate and fragile like Thom Yorke, but aaaargh! post-apocalyptic heart-on-skewer Nick Cave tormented and urrrgggh! self-lacerating edge-of-darkness Ian Curtis fucked-up desperate. Heroically, bracingly, cathartically tragic. Hooray!
And yet Matthew seems like a pleasant well-balanced chap in person. Why the long face Sadboy-Slim? "Erm.... is this the time or the place?" Matthew wonders nervously "I don't think it is. Aren't we all tormented in some way? I've always had trouble.... I think it's like existentialism or something. The problems I'm having, if everyone else is having them the world's a scary place." Is miserable music some kind of perverse comfort in a cruel world? "All I can say is some of the music I listened to when I was young was like how we sound," shrugs Matthew. "That emotional deep stuff was what made me feel good because someone else out there is saying things the same as me. I used to listen to a lot of blues - Robert Johnson, Ray Charles I think that music was way deeper than I could have understood but for some reason it spoke to me."
Of course, Muse will be roundly mocked for taking themselves so seriously. But cynics said the same thing about Nirvana at the end of the '80s. Remember these boys are only 21, hurtling into a new millennium with their emotional wounds wide open. "I think things pick up generally towards the start of every decade." nods Matthew, spotting light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. "In 2000 or 2001, people will start getting more positive. There's a lot of fear hanging around which people are trying to deny but there is. And when that's over hopefully there will be a positive thing. Either that or extremely negative, hahaha! And it will all be over..." The first great British guitar band of the 21st century has arrived. Enjoy them while there's still time.
#Muse band#Muse interviews#1999#NME#Matt Bellamy#Dom Howard#from the archives - rocketbabydolls.com#where would we be without the internet archive#the websites are all gone#muse band#matt bellamy#dom howard#muse#muse interviews#Showbiz Muse#Showbiz era
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DREAM LOG
January 6th 2024
Last night I dreamt of an old abandoned house where a skeleton woman was molding something out of ash and bits of burnt wood. She had trash built around her much like a nest and the inside of the building was molded and grey. Over the course of a few months, she licked at the ash to moisten it, and slowly it began to look like small children. The more she did this, the more her flesh became plump. She went through a transitional period where all she was was merely a stack of gore and organs moving about.
She created two children, a tiny boy and a tall girl, and when she was done she looked relatively normal herself. The boy was pale with a large bulbous head and puffy eyes, and he only came to about 3 inches in height. The girl was extremely pale but otherwise alright; if not a bit oddly skinny. Despite the children just having been born, mother took it upon herself to take them on a trip. She wore pearls and an old fashioned cardigan and smelt of stagnant water and ash.
They got into a car and begun driving, the land around them desolate and wide. There were translucent statues placed about with fleshy organs visible inside them. Mother clicked her tongue and mumbled that being in one of those had to be the worse kind of torture. The thought that the eyes inside the plastic were conscious and seeing was a horrible thought.
Finally they arrived at what appeared to be a victorian type boarding school out in the boons. There were lots of smartly dressed women (though waterlogged and gray) and small, malformed looking children running about drinking murky lemonade. It was then that I became Big Sister and brushed my Baby Brother's hair aside. His head was so large that it seemed hard for him to move at times.
The women gathered us all up and told us it was time to play a game. The boys were sent to hide and it was the girls job to seek. I thought, what an impossible thing, such a vast world I had yet to know; but quickly it became apparent that I could smell the scent of the weak.
“That’s it,” mother coaxed, upon seeing my nose twitch at a small breath of wind. “not your eyes, use your nose.”
I did as told, my legs uneven but my stride as confident as ever, winding through the beige tents in the dead courtyard that housed games and shaded areas for the women to drink sullied water in cracked china. My feet crunched in yellow grass and the sky was a constant sheet of gray, I watched as the other girls skulked about and felt my stomach harden to a pit.
“Found you.”
I entered a tent and saw my small, impossibly cute lump of a brother, playing with toys with the other deformed boys. He giggled delightfully at being found, an ever trusting look fancied my way, and it was then that I knew I was meant to eat him up whole.
I took his small hand into mine, trying to ignore the sound of other girls consuming their weaker siblings, the echo of cracking charcoal and soot being gnashed by rotted teeth faint through the shuddering breeze that tussled the barren trees. I hid Baby Brother away, in a closet in the manor on a bed of wool blankets and cloth before rightfully confronting Mother who was sitting at a fancy white table with a clutter of women.
“What is this?” I demanded, “this is sick, to eat your family up like that. Why make it a game? For your enjoyment? So you can watch?”
The other women seemed shocked by my insolence but mother simply licked her at smiling black lips and set her cup down with an unfathomable amount of grace. It was only then that I realized that all the adults here consisted purely of women.
“The males of our kind are weak but they can make us strong when eaten. It’s simply how it is, darling.” she explained. “Don’t you want to grow up?”
Grow up? Is that what there was to do? Somehow the thought was appealing and I got the sense that our kind was a special kind; and perhaps it was a bit uncommon in this world. This world that felt strange, even though I had only lived in it for a day. How was I to know right or wrong, good or evil, when my heart had taken its first beat just earlier that morning? But somehow despite this I knew, and it made me feel very special indeed, and I knew that being special meant I could make my own choices no matter what anyone else said… So I decided that I would protect what was kind to me, no matter the circumstances and whatever I might be (a monster, a threat, a ghoul) because I just couldn’t fathom it in any other way.
I loved my Baby Brother, soot and all.
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Past Life 🪡 Karmic Spread January 2024 - Sagittarius
Character Card: The Brawler (past), The Dancer (present)
Gender I’m Picking Up On (in the past life): Male in both
Who You Were: King of Cups
What You Did: 9 Cups
How It Ended: 3 Cups
What Karma Was Brought With You: 2 Wands
Who You Brought With You: Ace of Wands
Additional energy: Knight of Wands
Past Life Oracle: Vows (past), Knighthood & Orphan (present)
Dreaming Way: Snake & Tree (past), Birds (present)
Charms:
Key 🔑 on King of Cups
Dancer (reversed) 💃 on The Dancer
Red Flag (reversed) 🚩 on Knight of Wands
I’m not picking up on a time period, more like time is stale where you are, or that’s your perception of it. Doesn’t feel that long ago. You were born into a Mormon family and the preshuffle along with The Brawler card, shows a woman that’s toxic in your world, maybe your mother, or it could’ve been someone that either was your wife or was supposed to be your wife, because it was once it came time for marriage that you bolted out of this community and everyone you’d ever known as family. I’m getting you had a very difficult & painful childhood, there was not a single day you accepted the religion you were force fed, but you loved your family. Of course you did. King of Cups is key, that was you, and the genuine love you had for the people you cared about never faltered, even though you couldn’t agree with them or subject yourself to the kind of life they insisted on leading.
But rather than living a life of struggle, sadness, abandonment, you didn’t do any of that. You made a stable life for yourself outside of this community you considered to be toxic - Snake shows it’s those closest to you that were, because of this community, because of religion - Vows. You wanted no part of it, and left, some of these people you never saw again…and you accepted that. What you ended up doing was creating a new family, of others who had left too, either from the same community or just other “exiles” like you, and I’m literally seeing another community of people that support each other and gather like family. That was your family 💯 You did marry (or close enough idk about legally), did have children, and never subjected them to the beliefs you came from. The love was still there, and only grew within a whole group of families, it was just your *chosen* family. You died from being hit by a drunk/reckless driver, from your injuries, again showing this wasn’t so long ago cars didn’t exist, but I get no specific area or time period for where/when this could be, just the feeling of your transition from what feels like The Dark Ages - to a more modern society.
Your energy in this life is very positive ❤️ You still have issues with parents, Orphan came out and that can be literal, or you may have lost a parent when you were very young, in what could be a tragedy similar to how your last life ended. Sudden, unexpected, it’s described by The Tower. Again, despite experiences that could be quite dark, difficult, sad, you don’t show it in any of your energy. You don’t dwell on pain. You’re described as Knight of Wands twice, Sagittarius energy, with Red Flag rev on it, showing it’s the most positive expressions of Sagittarius and none of the ick. You could have 0-3’ placements in your chart, your energy is exciting, adventurous, never boring, probably having a great sense of humor and always playful, lighthearted, up for anything. Childlike in the best way. You could be really young too, teens or around there, or your heart always will be a lot of fun, no matter how old. You aren’t one for dwelling on overly serious things, but you are always ready to explore, discover, and find something new to get excited about. You probably have a lot of friends and prefer for others to go with you on your adventures, you’re not a fan of hanging out by yourself. King of Wands clarifying the Knight shows you’ll always be this way, even grown, it’s what people love about you. Or you may be a wise person/old soul inside of a young body. You’re like fun & sunshine in a person, human Vitamin D 😁
The only things I’m seeing as challenges, after childhood, are The Dancer card with The Dancer charm being rev. This is a card showing that you care too much what people think, and hold yourself back from expressing your talents - which could literally be dancing, but doesn’t have to be. Anything. I keep hearing gaming with this Knighthood card, you may have played with Knights & castles 🏰 as a child, or you really like tv shows or video games that are more medieval in nature, D&D could be one of them. If so, there’s some sort of talent you have in regards to your interests, and you don’t do them. Could be shy, but I don’t get that, more like you’re afraid what other people would say. Criticism. Spirit is saying fk people, you do you and people like you will love it and seek you out. Birds shows a need to be careful of snide gossipers around you, if they’re talking shit to you, they’ll talk shit about you too, and your energy is too good for that, fun, wholesome even, you’re here to show off some really cool skill or interest, and the rest will come as it comes, you’re not worried, or if you are, you don’t have to be. You’re supposed to be everything that you are, it’s a blessing 💚
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I had this dream around full moon and it's haunted me since. A nest with four sparrow pullets, beaks open, begging for food. I see them, I see the parents carrying food, but there's two. magpies hunting them. I make up a fantasy bird, two half pigeon half pheasant, fake looking blobs on a branch and grab one of them, twist its neck, the soft feathers dense under my fingers. I toss the dead body to the magpies and they crow happily. The sparrow babies are noisy, happy as well. Then, suddenly, there's birds everywhere. I'm holding the other fake bird. They're looking at me curiously, from tree branches and telephone wires. They're not hungry or desperate, like the sparrows or the magpies. I kill the second bird, too, and feed it to an egret. 🍁🫖 What do you think?
Hello!
To give you a little background: during full moon we may experience weird and vivid dreams (but even nightmares or insomnia) more easily, and they can get even more vivid if by any chance the moon is transiting our 12th house (just happened to find out about this last bit). Anyway, in general in those days we tend to dream also about hints that may guide us to resolve possible inner conflicts, concerns or emotional issues. And it may guide you to change a behaviour too.
I do think this specific dream, being filled with birds (which generally speak about freedom and aspirations but also good news) wanted to give you a more conscious look to an emotional issue. And this issue could be related with you feeling a little repressed: maybe there's a lot going on in your life at this time and there's also a lack of communication about what are your real dreams (eg. career, life...) with your family or people around you. You may fear their reaction (which you don't know but you fear may be heavy, maybe cause of past similar events) and that is like mining you and your closer relationships. You have probably sacrificed yourself and even renounced to something (it could be taking care of your needs, as in being more open about your desires). But right now this lack of emotional fullfilment may be something that is bringing you some inner frustration. This dreams wanted you to take a different look at the situation, to slowly find ways to balance and ground yourself (maybe you are already trying to) and to not doubt of your abilities and worth. To heal your heart and let others in (despite you may fear their judgement) and stop giving up on yourself.
All the best, take care!
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