#seven-phase flash

[dragaliareferencearchive]

Model references for Skirk - Genshin Impact *As of 17 June 2025 her references have been replaced with updated versions

[bladiesbunny]

I NEVERWANT TO SEE THIS AGAIN

[melancholymetropolis]

“Stop pretending that you hate me,” Stack said with a smug grin.

“I’m not pretending.”

I let the words fall upon his ears like a cracked glass on the floor. His face dropped. The smile was long gone and a look of pain flashed across it. Stack looked as though I shot him in the chest. A shaky breath fell from his lips as he flicked the cigarette bud from his fingertips. He closed the distance between us in three long strides. My back was pressed against the brick wall of the shop before I could blink. The pain on his face morphed into anger so hot it made his skin burn. 

“You don’t mean that,” he spat, looking me dead in the eye.

 Stack tried to make himself bigger, more intimidating. A lackluster attempt to scare me, but it hadn’t worked. Not only were we a few inches shy of the same height, but I could see right through him. I knew Stack before he was Stack. 

When he was just Elias.

“Y/N,” his voice was a warning. Danger in his tone, but it didn’t phase me. “Tell me you don’t mean that.”

“Get out of my way, Stack,” I said, in a low tone. A desperate attempt to hide the pain in my voice. The stitches of an old wound was beginning to reopen. “I have work to do.”

His eyes poured into me just used to. Filling my head with stupid assumptions that only left me heartbroken in the end. I thought about how he set my dislocated shoulder in place; it must've meant he liked me. How he acted as my left hand for weeks until the pain went away; that must've meant he cared about me. The way he hunted down the man who did it and made him pay… must've meant he loved me. Only me.

But, that wasn't the whole truth.

“So that's why you never replied to my letters,” Stack replied, eyes still searching my face. “Still angry about Mary, huh?”

I dared to stare back at him. My gaze like cold rain to his heated gaze. I refused to slip the mask and embarrass myself in public like she did. He wasn't worth that. Not anymore. Not after seven years. 

I was better than that.

“Not really,” I said with an air of indifference. “I was a little preoccupied to hold a grudge.”

As if summoned, a squeaky little voice cut through the tension. Making Stack freeze on impact. Something he hardly does.

“Mommy?”

My sweet baby girl tilted her little head up at us to assess the situation. Her deep brown eyes searched the potentially dangerous stranger before flicking back over to me, in a caged position. A look of irritation, or disgust briefly graced her face. She narrowed her eyes at Stack and crossed her arms against her chest. Madeline was not afraid of anything. She was always the kind of child to look danger in the eye and laugh.

"Is that ugly man bothering you?" She said, staring directly at Stack. "Should I call daddy?"

An orchestra of emotion appeared on Stack's face. He seem to be both deep in thought and confused at the same time. Like he working out something profound. It took him several seconds before he came to.

"How old are you?" He asked Madeline, jumping right into the conversation.

"I don't talk to strangers," she tilted her in defiance, earning a smile from me.

Good Girl.

Stack, then, turned back to me. A desperate look in his eye; silently asking me the same question. Though he couldn't bring himself to the vocalize it. A look a true fear and hope on his face.

I used his trembling expression to my advantage and slipped from his arms. I took Maddie's hand and steered her away him.

His eyes drilled into my back, but he didn't dare move a muscle. He couldn't. He didn't to make a scene, or worse, alert everyone else of an open secret.

My baby survived, while my cousin's, Annie, didn't.

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

a/n: watched sinners and I had to whip something up. let me know if you would like a part two! drop a comment if you would like to be on the taglist, if this becomes a series.

@lov4gor3

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Part II

[cece693]

OPERATION TOTALLY (NOT) CHEATING

pairing: jasper whitlock x gender neutral reader synopsis: Planning a surprise for anybody is stressful—add that they're a vampire and can feel the anxiousness coming off you—it's impossible. Yet, you will not go down without trying; even if it does seem like you're cheating on your mate.

You’d never imagined that preparing a nice thing for your century-old mate could feel so much like plotting a felony.

Step one: secrecy. Step two: more secrecy. Step three: send every signal of infidelity imaginable—entirely by accident.

Carlisle’s dusty attic is not built for stealthy vampires. One creaky beam and the whole house knows your coordinates. Still, you ease open an ancient trunk, digging for the Civil-War-era Stetson Alice swore was up here. A perfect anniversary gift, you think—something Jasper hasn’t seen since 1863.

Downstairs, Jasper’s empathic radar pings like a sonar alarm. From his spot on the living-room sofa he feels:

you, vibrating with jittery excitement

you, radiating guilt

you, spiking whenever your phone lights up with a message from Emmett (“u find hat yet?”)

To Jasper it reads like: unfaithful lover + secret rendezvous + texting another behind his back. He drums ghostly fingers on his knee. “Probably nothing,” he mutters, then remembers the last time he said that—right before Bella almost leapt off a cliff. Never again.

A DAY LATER

You’ve commandeered Tony Stark levels of covert ops for phase two: refurbishing the Stetson. Rosalie agreed to steam and reshape the brim—on the condition that you never reveal she owns a vintage milliner’s kit. She works under fluorescent light, humming. You pace, texting, practicing your big reveal line.

Enter: Jasper, silent as fog.

He sees shapes through the half-open garage door—your silhouette, Rosalie’s blond head bent over…something. In the dim glow it almost looks like she’s nuzzling your neck. His dead heart drop-kicks his ribs. He retreats two steps, collides with a lawnmower, and the resulting clang is loud enough to wake Forks. You and Rosalie whip around; Jasper is gone before the brim stops quivering.

Rosalie side-eyes you. “Your cowboy’s about to spiral.”

You groan, fingers tunneling your hair. “I’m throwing him a surprise party, not committing adultery!”

“Then tell him before he reenacts the Charge of the Light Brigade.”

A FEW HOURS LATER

Your brilliant finale: a mock western duel staged in Charlie Swan’s clearing (borrowed by Alice after a vision of no hunters or hikers nearby). You’ve bribed Emmett with ten pints of mountain-lion blood to play outlaw, Esme to set the picnic tables, and Alice—reluctantly—to keep Jasper occupied until sundown.

Unfortunately, Alice’s definition of occupied is “take him shopping for new curtains,” which lasts exactly seven minutes before Jasper bails and heads home, storm cloud brewing.

He finds your shared bedroom empty except for a suspicious luggage tag that reads “Hotel el Granate—Volterra.” (You used the tag as decorative ribbon for the hatbox.) Jasper’s mind does the arithmetic: Volterra = Volturi. Volturi = danger. Also: why is there a hotel involved? And why does the tag smell faintly like Emmett?

Jealousy roars through him. Carpet fibers scorch under his boots as he bolts for the woods. If you’re fleeing to Italy with anyone, he’ll—

“Jazz!” Alice flashes into view, hands raised. “Turn around. Trust me.”

He seethes. “Tell me where they are.”

Alice sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But try not to rip anyone’s limbs off in the next ten minutes, okay? It’s supposed to be romantic.”

Golden twilight filters through fir branches onto a scene out of an old dime novel: Emmett, dressed in a bandana and absurd leather chaps, pretends to menace a wooden crate marked High-Noon Fireworks. Esme fusses over gingham tablecloths while humming “Home on the Range.” You stand in the center, holding the carefully restored Stetson, anxiety bubbling like shaken cola.

Then Jasper stalks in, eyes black as an eclipse. The entire clearing freezes.

“Sugar,” you start, “I can explain—”

He notices Emmett brandishing a cap gun. He notices Rosalie lounging beside a phonograph. He notices the hat in your hands, burnished and perfect. Confusion slams the brakes on fury; his empathy floods with the singular taste of your love—pure, bright, unmistakable.

“Surprise,” you finish weakly.

Silence stretches. Then Emmett snickers. Rosalie chuckles. Jasper’s shoulders sag as realization paints him crimson with embarrassment.

“You thought I was cheating,” you tease, stepping closer.

“Well,” he coughs, smiling crookedly. “It felt like you were hiding something.”

“That’s literally the definition of a surprise, Major Paranoia.”

He laughs, breath hitching, and you place the Stetson on his head. It fits like memory itself. For a moment the soldier, the newborn, the centuries of guilt all fall away; he is just Jasper Whitlock, beloved, marveling that someone would rummage through dusty trunks and bribe siblings for him.

“I reckon I owe you an apology.” He pulls you in by the belt loops.

“You reckon?” You arch a brow. “I had to lie, sneak around, dodge your empathy—do you know how impossible it is to mask excitement and guilt simultaneously?”

He kisses you soft, then deeper, laughing against your lips. “I felt the guilt part loud and clear.”

From the sidelines, Emmett whistles. “Kiss ’em like you mean it, cowboy!”

Jasper flips Emmett the bird without breaking contact. Esme claps delightedly. Rosalie drops the needle on the phonograph, and an old swing tune crackles through the forest air. You finally pull back, eyes sparkling. “Happy 160th anniversary of your second turning.”

He tilts the hat brim up, gaze molten gold. “Best gift I’ve had in either lifetime.”

You grin. “Wait ’til you see the fireworks.”

Cue Emmett lighting a fuse that sends him screeching into a tree, Rosalie cursing about singed hair, Carlisle appearing with a fire extinguisher, and Alice recording everything on an antique camcorder “for posterity.” Jasper laughs until he can’t breathe—figuratively—and you realize the surprise was never the hat or the party; it was this moment, incandescent with shared immortality.

Later, as sparks rain like molten stars and the clearing smells of smoke and pine, Jasper wraps an arm around your waist. “Next time,” he murmurs, “maybe leave me a note?”

You smirk. “Next time you turn off the empath radar.”

“Deal.” He nudges the Stetson brim against your forehead. “Though for the record, jealousy isn’t my best look.”

“It is when it ends with you wearing nothing but that hat,” you whisper.

[rafesfavgirl]

stop asking me to stay — r. cameron

❝ please don't fall apart i can't face your breaking heart i'm trying to be brave stop asking me to stay ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: you and rafe have been dating for seven months, and while the relationship started it out well, as soon as the honeymoon phase ended (about 3 months in), everything went to shit. you've been trying to put up with it, but tonight, you realize you've had enough.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: toxic relationship, cocaine use, alcohol use, attachment issues, might make you cry, no happy ending, angst asf

you walk out into the backyard full of girls in swimsuits and guys in swim trunks with drinks in hand, strobes of light flashing around, and music blasting, hoping to find your dear boyfriend who had disappeared on you. again.

god, how much longer did he think you were gonna put up with this?

you look around, and head for topper when you spot him. he was playing pong against kelce and some of their other golf buddies.

"top," you call out to him when you walk up to the table to join them.

"hey, y/n," he greets you, as he readies his hand to shoot a ball. he does, and it lands in one of the cups, causing the surrounding guys and girls to erupt in cheers. "what's up?"

"have you seen rafe?" you ask him.

"nah, not lately," he shook his head at you, shooting his other ball.

he misses that one.

you snap your head towards kelce. "kelce?"

"last i saw him he was cutting a line in the living room upstairs, y/n," he shrugs, and you groan, rolling your eyes.

of course he was. fucking fantastic.

you don't even say another word to either of them before you walk away and head back towards the house. you manage your way through the crowd just fine and scurry up the stairs to the second floor.

just as kelce described, you find rafe seated on a couch in the living room surrounded by some guys and girls—one who was a little too close to him for your liking—cutting a line of coke with his black card.

"rafe," you say his name, and his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, his dark blue eyes meeting yours. 

he immediately stands up, pretending as if you didn't just see him cutting the line of coke with his card, shaking off the girl draped over his arm in the process. "y/n."

"can you take me home?" you ask, pulling your eyes away from his. you just couldn't stand to look in them anymore. "i have that interview with the admissions officer from yale tomorrow."

"yeah," he nods, rounding the coffee table to approach you. "whatever you want, baby."

everyone else eyes the two of you carefully, the girl previously draped over rafe giving you the stink eye. no one could ever pull rafe away from the coke faster than you.

when he stops to stand in front of you to block your view of the "friends" he left snorting lines of coke, you look up at him through your lashes, not knowing what to think.

"i've been looking for you for an hour," you say, and he sighs.

"i'm sorry," he replied—you were sick of hearing that though. it was the same half-assed apology every time. and yet, nothing ever changed.

you'd probably go through this exact thing again next weekend when he drags you to some other party.

"save it," you say, catching him off guard.

he knew you didn't like it when did coke, but you never stopped him from apologizing before.

"just take me home," you turn around and walk away from him, making your way back downstairs.

he follows closely behind you, but falls behind a little when you quickly course your way through the crowd on the first floor and he struggles to do the same.

"y/n, wait up," he jogs to catch up to you when you both step outside, but you just quicken your pace towards his car. "babe!"

you hear him call after you, and since his legs are much longer than yours, he manages to catch up and walk in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

"can you just stop for a second?" he asks, placing both of his hands on either of your arms to make you look at him. "what's wrong?"

"do you even have to ask?"

he sighs, and drops his hands from your arms. "okay, so i snorted a line. what's the big deal?"

"was it just a line, rafe?" you asked, knowing he could never just stop at one.

"so maybe it was two or three," he admits with a shrug. "but what's the big deal? we're at a party, y/n. we came here to have fun!"

"you think this is fun?" you ask him, the pent up anger caused by the way he's been acting the last few months rising to the surface. "it is not fun for me to come with you to these parties only to find you've abandoned me after i go to the bathroom to go snort lines of coke, rafe! let alone find some girl draped all over you and you don't even seem to care!"

"oh for fuck's sake, it's not like i'm sneaking off to fuck them, y/n!" he defended. "they do that shit on their own. what do you expect me to do about that?"

"uh, i don't know, tell them to fuck off? to get off you? to stop? to move?" you say, stating several different things he could have said to them.

he knows your right, but as always, he refused to back down.

"god, are you seriously bitching about this?" his voice was louder know, the adrenaline from the coke clouding his judgment and riling him up. "wait- no, that's-" 

he immediately realized what he just said to you, and though he wanted to take it back—and even tried to—it was too late.

"you know what? just go back inside, rafe," you shrug, finally giving up.

there was no use fighting back anymore because you were never gonna get through to him. not when he was like this—coked out of his mind.

"go back to your coke buddies, go back to whatever girl decides to throw herself onto you next, and just forget about me," you tell him. "i'm done."

his coke-induced state of mind seems to fade completely when he hears those two words come out of your mouth.

"what?" his voice was much quieter now, and delicate. something not usual for rafe.

"you heard me," you said, looking him in the eyes. "i can't keep doing this, rafe."

"no, no, no, no, no," he shakes his head frantically, panic clearly building up in him at the thought of losing you. he closes the distance between the two of you and takes your hands in his. "i promise i'll do better, baby. i'll change. i love you."

as much as you wanted to give in and believe him, you knew that your relationship had run its course. he did love you—you never doubted that. but it shouldn't have to be this hard. enough was enough.

you needed to do what was best for you, and this just wasn't it anymore. as much as you loved him, you knew this was the best thing for you. no matter how badly it broke your heart, you had to walk away.

"not enough to choose me," you shook your head, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. "you give in every time."

he drops your hands from his, his demeanor changing again. now, he looked furious. cold. meaner.

"well, i'm sorry i'm not fucking perfect like you!" his voice was full of venom. the rafe cameron you fell in love with was gone. "you know what? just do what you want, y/n. go run off to yale and find some perfectly polished guy! see if i care."

his eyes filled with disgust as he trailed them over you, a scoff leaving his mouth, "i should've just fucked all those other girls. at least they know how to have fun."

while you knew he wouldn't take your words well, you never expected him to be so cruel. but then again, wasn't it always this way? when he was off of it, you never really knew what to expect.

another reason why you had to walk away. it wasn't worth all the exhaustion going back and forth with him. he wasn't worth it anymore.

"go ahead," you say, trying your hardest to keep a solid front. no way you were going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

he rolled his eyes. "find your own way home, bitch," he spat, bumping your shoulder as he walked back towards the house.

the second you knew he could no longer see you, you break.

the rafe you knew was gone.

part 2.

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[doodle-pops]

House of Finarfin | Playing Seven Minutes in Heaven

A/N: This had been a thought on my mind for ages, so it must be shared delightfully ☺️

Warnings: none, fluff, kissing, humour

Masterlist | Navigation

︶꒦꒷Finarfin꒷꒦︶

The entire room was filled with silence as the bottle landed on you, his long-time crush and childhood best friend. His heart was ready to lurch from his throat with the erratic beating it was performing, sounding like a horse galloping. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on you two while his were focused on you. He wasn’t sure if to speak up and deny the one chance and spend it in the closet with you, or go with the flow and resist panic.

Thankfully, it was his older brother who spoke up for him. “Alright, Ara and Y/N, you two are next to spend seven minutes in private in the closet. Of you two go,” Ñolo commanded as his lips held a smirk, ushering his brother to his feet and pushing him into the closet.

A quick exchange between the brothers you didn’t miss left you laughing as you stepped into the closet with your best friend and watched as his older brother stifled a laugh while shutting the door. Soon, his voice echoed from the outside. “Your timer starts now. You guys have seven minutes to, uh, do as you please, but nothing too vulgar, please. I don’t wish to explain anything to mother and father.”

As his voice fell and his footsteps came faint, you heard the uproar of the game resuming and old talk occurring. This made you feel relieved that no one was snooping around to listen to what happened between you and Ara. As for the latter, he stood facing the door with his eyes bulging out of his head. 

“Hey,” you gently called out, reaching over to touch his hand, which caused him to jump out of his skin. “Relax! I’m not going to pounce on you if that’s what you believe.” Laughing at his reaction, you shuffled away and leaned against the shelves, thankful that they had removed all the items in there for more room.

Turning to focus on your actions, Arafinwë grew confused. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing silly? Waiting for the seven minutes to pass; it’s not like we’re going to do anything!” You flashed him a look of obviousness before leaning your head against the shelves and shutting your eyes. As you did so, you missed the look of contemplation in Arafinwë’s eyes as he observed your composed nature.

You didn’t appear phased at being locked in the closet with him, nor did you attempt to back ou,t which left him wondering why spend the seven minutes in a boring ambience. Was there something unspoken between you two that you hoped he would figure out? Was this a signal that people did when they liked another? He hadn’t learned that from Ñolo.

For the next five minutes, he spent it standing in the opposite corner of the closet (not that there was much space), staring at your relaxed figure. From your parted lips to your fluttering lashes to the soft rise and fall of your chest, he was lost in a trance, marvelling at your beauty.

“You know, staring is considered impolite?” Your voice rang out and startled him. When had he gotten so lost in staring at you? Frantically, he whipped his head away from your face, refusing to meet your eyes out of shame at being caught.

“Sorry,” he uttered awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “I, uh, um…sorry.”

“Is there something you’d like to tell me, Ara?” you teased, rising from your seated position and shuffling over to stand before him. At eye level, face to face, you stepped into his space and placed your hands on either side of his head. “Or is there something you’d like to do instead? A kiss for your best friend whom you have had a crush on for years?”

“How did you…Ñolo,” he grimaced and ended it in a breathless chuckle, hanging his head in defeat. Still peeking through his lashes, he caught sight of you biting your lower lip before lifting your finger to tap it.

Well, the doors of heaven must have truly opened to him.

“Do I have to ask, or are you going to confess on these lips?”

Hesitantly, before gaining confidence, his arms lifted to encircle your waist and gently pulled you deeper into his space until your bodies touched. Lips ghosting each other and eyes focused on them, the moment your hands cupped the curve of his neck, he bridged the gap and sealed the deal with your first kiss. It was sweet and simple, and lengthier than usual since he didn’t want only one but another and another until his brother was standing outside announcing that time was up.

Pulling away from each other and scrambling to adjust your hair and clothes, the door swung open to reveal Ñolo grinning at you two, already knowing what transpired. “Congratulations, brother.”

︶꒦꒷Finrod꒷꒦︶

Finrod was more eager than you to play this game, and it showed in the manner he reached over the bottle and grabbed your hand to drag you into the closet. His bright and bubbly aura, accompanied by the waving of his hand as he ushered you in, left the room confused since they never saw anyone so eager before. Even you were humoured by his enthusiasm as he pulled in the door, not before reminding the others to start the countdown.

“Hey, don’t forget to start the countdown. Seven minutes starting right now!” he cheered and then proceeded to shut the closet door. He then turned to face you, practically lighting up the slightly darkened space, grabbed your hands and pulled you closer until you were clinging to his shoulders. “Now, we have all the time in the world for me to shower you in kisses!”

“Findo!” you whispered-yelled with a small giggle following at the end.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” he panicked and slowly released your waist, taking a step backward.

“No. It’s just, where did this behaviour suddenly come from?” you laughed and took a step forward to reassure him that you didn’t mind his hands around your waist.

“Oh!” he laughed sheepishly and ducked his head. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for quite some time, especially when I know that you like me too. So what better way to express myself than through a moment alone? Perhaps I should hold you like this instead?” As he spoke, one hand returned around your waist and the other cupped the nape of your neck, tilting your head upwards to meet his piercing gaze.

The butterflies in your stomach were not helping the situation at all; if anything, they were making your nerves stand on the edge. All his swooning and artful gestures were making your cheeks hot and ready to pop. You could barely maintain eye contact with him for two seconds, and it was worse when he whispered: “Keep your eyes on me, love. You have nothing to fear.”

Your hands that were still fastened to his shoulders, struggled to stay on board. They were ready to slip off and fall limp from all the romanticism your crush was displaying. You should have known that crushing on Finrod meant him not being fearful of anything and facing any challenge head-on, even if it meant your love for him.

Doing your best to steady your breathing the more intense his gaze became and with your stomach performing somersaults, you squeezed his shoulders for support. “Findo,” you murmured as his face came closer, lips inching nearer to yours and his hand tightening around your waist.

He said nothing at first and flashed a subtle grin before he bumped his nose against yours. Tenderly did his voice ring out, and uttered sweet words to you. “You know I’ve liked you for a long time, and I’ve been wanting nothing more than to kiss you with a memorable event in the background. Pardon me if this game isn’t to your expectations, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Then are you going to kiss me right now or keep talking about wanting to—” Your words were silenced with the colliding of soft, pillowy lips moulding against yours. A blissful sigh escaped his nose as he finally captured your lips in a passionate interlocking moment, stamping the seal on your new relationship.

This was your first time discovering the raw passion Finrod had within his heart. The kiss was beyond phenomenal as he pulled you back in for more, refusing to break apart for more than a second; he wanted to breathe your air and mould himself till you became one.

Your hands left his shoulders and travelled to his nape, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pressing his clothes to deepen the kiss, though your moment was short-lived. Not hearing the call of his cousins announcing that the time was up, the door to the closet flung open, and his cousins and brothers stood at the entrance, gawking at you two.

“Ahem!” they first called, and not receiving a response, they yelled louder. “Oi! Times up!”

Embarrassed to be caught so intimate, you hid your face in Finrod’s chest. “Can I help you?” he spoke up annoyed at the intrusion.

“Yes, you can,” pipped up his cousins. “Time’s up, so you two can step out of your…moment so the next couple can hit things off.”

Shaking his head and reaching for your hand at the same time, Finrod stepped out of the closet with you close behind. “You all can continue playing, we’re done for the night. We have no need to be locked up in a closet with anyone else besides each other. Farewell!”

︶꒦꒷Angrod꒷꒦︶

Standing on the opposite ends of the closet, you and Angrod were as distant and silent as ever, staring at each other with a silly grin on your faces. Being trapped for seven minutes in the closet with each other by his cousins based on a whimsy game, made them believe that you and Angrod were going to end up in the same compromising positions as the others before. What they didn’t know was that you and Angrod were like that hours before you arrived to play the game, and were secretly dating.

Wanting to keep the tension on high, knowing that half of them were standing outside the door listening for any sounds, you two continued your silent staring and smirking. Though deep down, you wanted to jump on him and tear off his shirt to reveal the marks you left on him from earlier and add a few more next to them.

In a teasing mood despite the agreement, you reached your hand over to grab his arm and trace your fingers up his biceps all the way to his neck, where the first hickey was. Just a graze of your finger made him stiffen before choking on a moan which came out like a cough. At the same time, you heard his cousins shuffling outside.

“What are you doing?” he whisper-yelled and swatted your hand away in defence. Though you came back stronger than ever and cornered him with your hands on his abdomen, where the majority of his marks were. Panick in his eyes, his hands trembled as they pried yours off him. “Y/N, stop! You’re gonna get us caught!”

“Not if we stay quiet,” you breathed and attacked his neck with a bite, earning you and the boys a faint squeak. “You usually like to withhold your sounds from me—do you think you can manage that now?”

“Hmph,” He was swallowing every syllable that attempted to escape his lips the more your dragged your teeth over the fresh hickeys from this morning.

You were an angel by day and a demon by night, but for once, your true form manifested in the confines of this closet as your hands fought against his as you could step closer and latch your lips to his neck to plant more hickey. You visibly saw him shudder and bite back his groans, the more your lips traced each hickey. His fingers were curling into yours, as were his toes in his boot, the more vicious your kisses became. 

“Love…please,” he whimpered into your hair, feeling himself on the verge of crying out louder if you don’t stop.

Relinquishing your assault on his neck and looking up at him through your lashes, you purred, “You’re such a killjoy, Angrod. I was having so much fun!”

“If that’s your idea of fun, I’d hate to imagine what you consider boring,” he breathlessly chortled in your hair. With the released of your hands around his, he was able to bring them up to cradle your head against his shoulder as he calmed down from your diabolical acts. He’d hate to visualise if his cousins were hearing everything through the whispers. “Do you like they heard me?”

“So what if they did? At least it’s you in this situation and not them,” you purred.

“You really don’t know my cousins, do you? They’ll berate me if they heard me moaning,” he softly chuckled while dragging his hands down the curve of your back to rest against your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “However, I wouldn’t deny having one decent kiss before the time’s up.”

And just as he leaned in to draw the first intake of breath, the moment your lips moulded against each other, neither of you heard the yelling of ‘time’s up’, leading to the door being ripped open and the horde of his cousins and brothers staring in utter disbelief. There wasn’t enough time to break away and defend yourselves because some were disappointed while others were pleased.

“I-It’s not what you all think,” stuttered Angrod as he pushed you away to crawl out the closet with reddened cheeks.

“Yeah, sure. It’s not like we didn’t see you and Y/N eating each other’s faces,” retorted Aegnor with a roll of his eyes. “Might as well call the game ‘Seven Minutes of Lying’.”

︶꒦꒷Aegnor꒷꒦︶

Looking at Aegnor looking at you looking at him looking at you was the cycle for the last three minutes since you got shoved into the cramped space with him, all because of his stupid cousins. At least neither of you was afraid of making eye contact with the other, so it was a great way to pass your boredom until the time was up. However, it was the action of Aegnor fidgeting with his fingers and licking his lips that prompted annoyance.

Huffing for the hundredth time, you wind up the confidence to shoot at him. “Hey, are you alright over there? You look like you’re on the verge of passing out.”

His head jerked up like a startled deer, his wide, honey-coloured eyes blinking at you as though you’d just shattered the sound barrier. “Me? Oh, oh no, I’m fine! Completely fine,” he rushed out, voice cracking halfway through, which earned a snort from you. His fingers immediately dove into his golden hair, ruffling it into even more chaos than usual, making him look even more like the flustered embodiment of a sunbeam.

You arched an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the shelves. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with too much conviction, which faltered when his gaze flicked to your mouth for half a second before darting away. His tongue darted out again to wet his lips, and you could practically hear the mental curses rattling in his head.

A wicked grin curled on your lips as you pushed off the shelf, taking slow, exaggerated steps toward him. “You know,” you began, voice soft with amusement, “you’re not very good at hiding when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” he shot back a little too quickly, back hitting the wall of the closet with a soft thump. His laugh was thin, shoulders stiffened when you planted yourself right in front of him.

“Oh, really?” you teased, tilting your head, “Then why’s your heart racing, hmm? Or why are you blushing like you’re about to combust?”

“Maybe it’s just…warm in here?” he attempted weakly, biting down on his lip when you gave a low chuckle.

You reached up without thinking, brushing his mussed hair back from his forehead, fingers grazing his temple in a feather-light touch. The poor elf sucked in a sharp breath, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest second before they snapped open again, glowing with an almost dazed sort of wonder.

“You’re adorable,” you murmured fondly, thumb brushing his cheekbone, and something in his expression softened, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. His hands, once clenched tightly at his sides, slowly lifted—hesitating at your waist, hovering like you were something sacred, something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch.

“Can I—” His voice cracked again, making him wince, but you caught the intent before he could stumble over his words and closed the space for him. Your hands slipping around his neck, pulled him down just enough so you could whisper near his ear.

“You can,” you breathed, and that was all the permission he needed.

The first kiss was hesitant, a delicate brush of lips like a prayer, almost shy and achingly sweet. His fingers finally settled at your waist, tentative and trembling, as though afraid one wrong move would break the fragile moment between you. But when you tilted your head, deepening the kiss with a hum of encouragement, Aegnor melted. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him, and the second kiss came easier, more certain, threaded through with quiet longing that had waited far too long for this exact moment.

You smiled against his lips, feeling the sheer relief radiating off him in waves. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you whispered when you finally parted for air, though neither of you moved far.

There was the release of a shaky laugh, resting his forehead against yours, breath mingling in the small space between you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he confessed, voice so soft it barely reached your ears.

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” you grinned, brushing your nose against his, “You’re not exactly subtle, Aeg.”

A faint groan of embarrassment escaped him, his head dipping into the crook of your neck as if to hide from the world. You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair, the laughter bubbling up between you both, quiet and breathless.

Neither of you registered the muffled countdown outside the door, too wrapped up in the new gravity between you, but the sharp swing of the closet door had you both springing apart with comical speed.

“Well, well, well,” Finrod drawled from the doorway, arms crossed, grin practically splitting his face. “Look who finally worked up the courage.”

Aegnor looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, one hand dragging through his hair as his cheeks flamed bright pink. “I—we—it’s not—”

“Oh, give it a rest, brother,” Angrod snorted, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “We’re just glad you finally shut up about ‘what if she doesn’t feel the same way.’”

You rolled your eyes fondly, grabbing Aegnor’s hand and pulling him past the snickering crowd. “Come on, sunshine. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

And quietly did Aegnor follow, dazed and grinning, fingers laced tightly with yours, as his cousins’ laughter trailed behind you both.

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[five-rivers]

providence 2

[Based on prompts by @ash-rabbit @lexiepiper and @kinglazrus! Big thank you to @jackdaw-sprite, Lexie, and @datawyrms for beta. Read the full fic here.]

“You should just ask him,” said Sam.  

Danny flipped over in the air to stare at her.  “No, I shouldn't!  I shouldn't have asked him what I did ask–”

“It doesn't sound like you asked him much of anything,” said Tucker. 

“--I mean, what if it's what killed him, and that's why he was hiding it?” 

“I thought your current theory was that other Danny merging with him somehow merged his scars with Clockwork's scars,” said Sam.  

“That was a theory,” corrected Danny.  A chill from his ghost sense passed through him, and he righted himself in time to gently guide a swarm of blob ghosts into the phase-proof mesh butterfly net he'd been gesturing with.  

Over the past few days, blob ghosts had started a sort of migration.  Most of them stayed in the Ghost Zone, moving in enormous clouds, but some slipped through the portal and got lost.  With ghost hunting back in full swing, Amity Park wasn't safe for even the most harmless of ghosts, so Team Phantom was trying to catch them first.  

Emphasis on trying.

Blob ghosts (this type, anyway, not whatever Skulker was) were weak and usually docile.  The problem was, there were so many of them that the thermos by itself wasn't enough.  Sure, the beam would scoop them up readily enough, but the rest of the swarm would scatter in all directions, often invisible and intangible, becoming nearly impossible to find, let alone catch.   

The nets, while they wouldn’t have worked for any other ghosts, didn’t scare the blobs, and once they were in the nets they were easy to scoop up in the thermos.  However, nets were a much closer-range tool than the thermos, and getting close was its own problem.  Sam, Tucker, and Jazz couldn’t fly.  The blob ghosts, obviously, could.

But blob ghosts were attracted to heightened emotions.  Which made sense.  All ghosts could feed on emotions.  Even Danny, although he, like other more complex ghosts, could feed on his own emotions.  Hence the purposefully emotional conversation.  

“He said it wasn’t your fault, though, didn’t he?” asked Tucker.  He and Sam were wearing an abbreviated set of ‘standard’ ghost hunting gear, goggles, gloves, belts, concealing anti-ecto medical masks, and hoodies, so that they could fake being normal ghost hunters, if they had to.

“But he also said that, uh, other Danny wasn’t me, and what he did wasn’t my fault, which sort of means that it is because of him, doesn’t it?  Which means that it is my fault.”  He collected the last of the blob ghost swarm and swooped down to Tucker, so he could suck them into the thermos.

“Him saying that it isn’t your fault means that it is?” asked Tucker.

“Okay, maybe not my fault,” clarified Danny.  “The other thing. You know.   My responsibility.”

“But if that’s where it came from, Clockwork couldn’t have died from it, right?” asked Sam, reasonably.  “He was already a ghost when other Danny possessed him.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s why it’s my other theory.  I can have more than one theory.  It doesn’t matter if they’re contradictory.  I’ve just got to figure out how to test them and get rid of the ones that are disproven.  That’s science.”  His ghost sense went off again, and Danny flew upward to survey the surrounding streets.  

He thought he saw a flash of something round and green, but it disappeared as soon as he flew closer.  He sighed.  

“Nothing,” he said, returning. 

“I think you might have a skewed idea of what science is,” said Tucker.  

“And where it can be applied,” added Sam.  

“It can totally be applied here.  And my theories are completely valid.”

“I’m not sure I completely understand the one where you think it killed him?” said Tucker.  

“Okay, well,” said Danny, “when someone is hit in the head by lightning, they die.”

“Roy Sullivan didn’t,” said Tucker.  

“Who?”

“A guy who got hit by lightning seven times.  None of them killed him.  And he fought bears.”

“That’s not real,” said Sam.  “That’s not a real thing.”

“It is,” said Tucker.  “He’s the world record holder.”

“Usually getting hit in the head by lightning kills you,” said Danny.  “It’s electricity.  Electricity kills people.”

“But then why didn’t it look like a lightning scar the whole time?” asked Tucker, reasonably.  

“Because who’d want to look at a reminder of the thing that killed them every time they looked in a mirror?” asked Danny.  “He’s a shapeshifter.  He was hiding it.  And now that he’s– He’s hurt, or his power is gone, or whatever, he can’t hide it anymore.”

“His shapeshifting is pretty specific, though, isn’t it?”  Tucker’s eyes flicked down to his PDA.  “Incoming hunters.  Parsley and Overlook.”

Danny grabbed them under the arms and lifted off, turning intangible and passing through several buildings on the way to safer streets.  “Not Mom and Dad?”

“Nope.” 

“They’ll probably follow traffic laws, then.”  Danny set them down.  

“Yeah,” said Tucker, checking his PDA again.  “It’ll probably be a while before they start to look for us over here.  But I doubt we have much more than an hour before enough hunters are out that we won’t be able to avoid them.”

Danny made a face.  “There’s no way we’re going to catch all the blobs before then.”

“We can pretend to be hunters again,” said Sam.  They’d used the tactic a few times to get ghosts away from the new crop of hunters.  Most of them didn’t want to fight other people, even for the ‘rights’ to a ghost.  “That’s why we’re wearing this stuff.”

Danny nodded.  “I guess we’d better start again, then.”  He spread his arms wide and floated back.  “Hit me with your best shot?”

“You have any more theories, Wes Weston?” asked Tucker.  

“Ow,” said Danny.  “I mean, I guess it could be something else that’s happened since I’d last seen him, but that’d be a huge coincidence, wouldn’t it?”

“As opposed to the coincidences that somehow make it both your fault and a horrible imposition to Clockwork?” asked Sam.  “For all you know, it could be, like, ghost acne.”

“Just ghost acne?  You mean, the thing that half killed Vlad and put you in quarantine?”

“Bad analogy,” admitted Sam.  They started walking again.  “But it could be something normal that he’s just embarrassed about, or an attack from another ghost or something.  That he’s also embarrassed about.  Heck, it could just be a bad attempt at glamour makeup.”

“Pretty sure Clockwork doesn’t wear makeup,” said Danny.  

“That you know of.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Tucker.  “He could’ve just come from a drag show or something.”

“I– What?”

“It was the silliest thing I could think of,” said Tucker.  

“Okay,” said Danny, before darting off to catch another small swarm in his butterfly net.  “I’d just feel a lot better about all of it if I could help him.”

“So, why don’t you?” asked Sam.  

“I asked him if I could help, and he basically ignored it.  I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“Isn’t being able to get to his tower in the first place basically a standing invitation, because of the weird time stuff?”

“Maybe.  He might not be able to hide it anymore, with his powers damaged.  I didn’t ask.”

“Okay, well,” said Sam, “believe it or not, I actually got this advice from my parents, but a lot of people who need help don’t like to ask for it, so sometimes it’s better to just show up and find something to do, or with something to help.  It doesn’t have to be a big thing.  Like, when Mom was talking about this, it was about giving casseroles to widows.”

“Does that work?” asked Danny, dubiously.  

“We’re on patrol with you, aren’t we?” asked Sam.  “You said his place was full of rubble, right?  Maybe you could sweep that up.  It won’t solve any of the real problems with time, but it’d be a job he didn’t have to do, right?  And his house would be clean.  Cleaner.”

“That… might work,” said Danny.  “If I was careful not to touch any weird time stuff.”

“There you go, then.  Which means…”  She turned an evil grin on Tucker, “it’s your turn to have a heartfelt conversation.”

Tucker groaned.  “Come on, I don’t have nearly as much drama with my parental figures as you two do.”

“Then find some other drama,” said Sam, mercilessly as Danny sputtered that Clockwork was not his parental figure, “didn’t you try to ask Tiffanie out the other day?”

Tucker groaned again, and Danny’s ghost sense went off.  

.

Danny couldn’t visit Clockwork every day, or even on a regular day every week.  The timing of his trips to the Ghost Zone was based on opportunism.  He had to pick times when he wouldn’t be missed too much by his parents, when he wasn’t in school, and when Amity Park wasn’t under attack.  Plus, he still had to pass his classes, make sure no one was being dissected, hang out with Sam and Tucker, and sleep.

It was a lot.  

When he did get into the Ghost Zone, there was always a lot to do there, too.  Jazz wanted him to visit the Far Frozen more regularly, because Frostbite was a doctor who Danny could actually go to.  Johnny, Kitty, and Youngblood would derail any plans he had if he ran into them.  So would Walker, but for different reasons.  Danny wanted to track down Wulf at some point.  Also, Danny was still trying to map out the immediate area around the portal, which wasn’t exactly easy, since it moved.  

So, it was over a week before Danny could begin to put Sam’s advice into effect.  In that time he’d talked himself in and out of doing it multiple times.  Which was silly.  He hadn’t been this indecisive about anything since cheating on the CAT.  Clockwork liked him, or at least consistently tolerated him, and what was the worst that could happen, anyway?

His brain loyally conjured up half a dozen worst case scenarios.

Stupid brain.  

He floated outside the tower, eyeing the rubble.  He’d start here.  The stuff just floating around randomly outside probably wasn’t all that important, and dealing with it first would give Clockwork the chance to tell him to knock it off if he really didn’t want Danny’s help.  

First, he’d have to find places to put stuff.  He wasn’t sure if pushing things together into floating piles would work.  Maybe the bigger chunks would work like islands and have their own gravity?  He’d have to test that.  

Then, he’d have to start sorting.  He could see stuff that looked like chunks of masonry, bits of twisted metal, whole gears, fragments of glass, and splintery lengths of wood.  He absolutely wouldn’t throw anything out.  He’d learned that lesson from cleaning out the lab.  There was no way of telling if a particular slab of innocuous rock was secretly the power source for some doomsday device somewhere.

Once he had the skies clear out here, he’d move on into the entryway and the halls.  

That sounded like a plan.  

He got to work.  

It turned out that the bigger pieces of rubble would stick together, if only loosely, so Danny pushed a few of those out of what he considered to be the main paths around and to the tower, and used them as the nuclei of his piles.  He dumped armfuls of smaller rocks and other junk on them, and they got larger bit by bit.  

(It wasn’t, quite, accretion.  It wasn’t the way the planets formed.  But it was… adjacent.  Artificial accretion?  Was that a thing?)

But as he worked he started to feel like he was being watched.  It was an itch on the back of his head and in-between his shoulderblades, but every time he scanned the tower, hoping to find Clockwork in the shadows, he saw nothing.  The feeling persisted, and Danny decided that he must be watching through a time viewer or something similar.  Any of his enemies or ‘rogues’ would have made themselves known by now.  Even Vlad wasn’t all that subtle, unless he was using his little spy bugs (which hilariously didn’t work for more than thirty minutes in the Ghost Zone).  

It still made him uneasy.  

He dropped one more armload of rocks into the planet-pile, and surveyed his work.  It… wasn’t all that impressive, actually, but he’d been working on it for an hour, so… It’d have to do.  He wanted to say hi to Clockwork and make sure he was, well, aware of what Danny was doing. 

He definitely was, given the whole ‘I know what you’re doing before you do it’ thing he had going on, but Danny just wanted to check.  He flew down to the door, and almost ran into a strange ghost exiting.  

The ghost wasn’t large, by ghost standards, only a little longer than Danny himself, and their body plan seemed to be a fairly standard humanoid upper half with a ghostly tail.  However, instead of a normal head, a single giant eye rested on their sloped shoulders.  

They looked Danny up and down, their great eye narrowing slightly, but then they flew off without another word.  Danny watched them go for a minute, but then turned back to the doorway and slipped through.  

Only to run into Clockwork.  

“Augh!  Sorry,” said Danny, backing up and rubbing his nose.  He looked up.

Clockwork was wearing an eyepatch.  It didn’t cover the branching scar that now wound down his neck and up into his hairline.  

“So,” said Danny, “um.”  He hadn’t planned this conversation out at all, and most of his brainpower was occupied by not staring.  “Who was that, just now?  A friend?”

Clockwork made a complicated face, made all the more difficult to interpret because it was covered up.  “I can say nothing against them.”

In Clockwork language, that was basically equivalent to saying they were soulmates.  Clockwork took a lot of pride in his snark and he snarked about everything.  Not always in a straightforward way, sure, but where Danny was an apprentice in the art, Clockwork was a master.  

While Danny was still processing, Clockwork put his hand on Danny’s shoulder and squeezed lightly.  “All analogies have their limits,” he said.  “If time is a parade, then who are the marchers and marshals?  If it is a river, then why does it flow apart, and not together?  If it is a wheel, then why do events not repeat with regularity?”

He seemed to want an answer.  “Because it isn’t any of those things?”

Clockwork nodded, then drew Danny closer into a loose not-quite hug.  “Nor is it a lightning bolt.”  

Danny suppressed a shudder at the mention of electricity, and leaned his head against Clockwork’s chest.  He could hear it ticking, and the pendulum within the glass case flashed in the corner of his eye.  

“These things are still used,” stressed Clockwork.  “We all make the choices we can.”

The last bit was added quietly, as an afterthought, and Danny twisted to look up at him.  Clockwork looked… tired.  He was in his middle-aged form, but he looked older than Danny had ever seen him before.  

Clockwork pulled away with a sigh and patted Danny’s head.  “You are going to be late.”

“It’s the middle of the night?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

He’d probably wind up oversleeping, then.  It was awfully unlike Clockwork to warn him about that.  

“Goodbye, Daniel,” he said.  “Be… safe.”

Well, that was ominous.

.

Danny was being watched again.  This time, midway through his flight home, he was less certain that it was Clockwork.  He kept flying, anyway, unsure if he should try to confront whoever or whatever it was, or if he should try and pull a counter-ambush– Assuming the person watching him would attack.  

He realized he was slightly off course, and banked, correcting his path.  As he did so, a ghost, sheltering in the shadow of an island, came into sight.  The same ghost Danny had seen leaving Clockwork's tower.

That was strange.  

Danny stopped several meters away, cautious.  They might have been Clockwork’s friend or acquaintance or whatever, but most of Danny’s ghost friendships had started off with getting the crap beaten out of him.  “You want to eye-dentify yourself?”

So that was what an eyeball ghost looked like when they were annoyed.  Cool.  You learned something new every day.

“I,” said the eyeball ghost.  They paused, glaring, when Danny muffled a laugh.  

Yeah, Danny knew he shouldn’t do that, but it was how he interacted with ninety percent of other ghosts.  Sue him.  

“Members of my order do not use personal names,” said the ghost, rather pompously.  “I am an Observant, a watcher of time.  You are Phantom.”

Danny nodded in confirmation, even though that felt more like a statement than a question.

“You are… attempting to aid the timekeeper.”

“Yes?” said Danny, not at all sure where this was going.  

“He is a stubborn creature, unwilling to accept aid even from us, though we have long worked together.  But he accepts aid from you.”

“Sort of,” said Danny.  He hadn’t explicitly or implicitly rejected Danny’s help, anyway.

“We have an interest in maintaining the timeline, as he does.  But we are limited in what we may do.  Would you, Phantom, help us help him?”

[5tr4ylov35t4y]

Love Island: Stray Hearts Edition – Episode 2

MASTERLIST

The next morning, the girls gathered on the terrace, sipping their iced coffees as they processed the previous night’s drama.

Mia tapped her manicured nails against her cup. “So… anyone wanna tell me why Hyunjin looked like he was about to pass out?”

Sora leaned forward, voice low. “I don’t think it was just Hyunjin. Jeongin looked just as shocked.”

Y/N, pretending not to care, shrugged. “Maybe she’s just… really intimidating?”

Mia snorted. “Girl, please. She didn’t just ‘walk in’—she marched in like she owned the villa.”

Elena sighed dramatically. “Do you think she’s gonna go for one of the boys?”

The answer was obvious.

Y/N’s eyes flickered across the villa, where the mystery girl sat laughing with Hyunjin and Jeongin like they were old friends.

Or worse—old flames.

That afternoon, while the girls whispered amongst themselves, the boys huddled at the firepit.

Han kicked back, smirking. “So, are you two gonna explain or what?”

Jeongin sighed, rubbing his face. “Lia is… my ex.”

Han’s brows shot up. “Huh. Didn’t see that one coming.”

But before anyone could react, Hyunjin let out a humorless chuckle.

“She’s my ex too.”

The villa exploded.

“What the hell?” Seungmin muttered, arms crossed.

Jeongin groaned. “It was a long time ago. Hyunjin and I didn’t even know at first—”

Hyunjin scoffed. “Yeah, because she didn’t tell us. She was playing both of us.”

Han whistled. “Damn. No wonder she walked in here like a villain.”

Jeongin exhaled. “Look, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. But Hyunjin?” He raised a brow. “You sure about that?”

Hyunjin didn’t respond.

Which meant everything.

By afternoon, a text shook the villa.

📜 NEW TEXT! 📜

🔥 “Islanders, it’s time for today’s challenge: SECRET SNOG. Each of you will be blindfolded and receive a kiss from a mystery kisser. Then, you’ll rate the kiss out of 10. #SmoochOrSnooze #SecretsRevealed” 🔥

Laughter erupted, but the underlying tension was real.

The boys lined up first, blindfolds on, waiting for their mystery kissers.

The villa was electric with anticipation as Hyunjin settled into his seat, adjusting his blindfold with a confident smirk. His lips curled slightly. “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

A hush fell over the islanders as one of the girls stepped forward, the soft rustling of fabric the only sound cutting through the tension.

Then—the kiss.

The moment her lips met his, the air shifted. The kiss wasn’t just a peck. It was slow, deliberate. A brush of warmth, a familiar pressure. Not too aggressive, but just enough to hold his attention. There was something almost calculated about it—like the kisser wanted to prove a point.

The villa collectively gasped.

Even blindfolded, Hyunjin knew.

When the timer buzzed, he pulled away, licking his lips thoughtfully. “Huh.” His tone was unreadable, but there was the slightest tilt of his head, like something wasn’t sitting right.

Fingers reached for his blindfold, tugging it off in one smooth motion.

And then—

Lia stood there, smirking.

Y/N felt her heart stop.

A flicker of recognition flashed in Hyunjin’s eyes before his entire demeanor changed. His usual playful confidence hardened into something unreadable, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just let the realization sink in.

Lia’s smirk only widened. She folded her arms, head tilting to the side. “Missed me?”

Silence.

The other islanders looked between them, waiting for a reaction. Some exchanged knowing glances, while others were flat-out gawking at the tension thickening between the two.

Jeongin muttered under his breath, “Oh… this is about to get messy.”

Hyunjin exhaled through his nose before rolling his shoulders back, leaning lazily against the chair like nothing had phased him. Then, in a cool, almost bored tone, he finally answered.

“Seven.”

The villa erupted.

Sora gasped, clutching her chest in secondhand embarrassment. Mia’s mouth dropped open. Even Han, who normally had something snarky to say, just whistled under his breath.

Lia’s smirk faltered, just for a second. “Only a seven?” she echoed, feigning offense.

Hyunjin shrugged. “You’ve had better days.”

Chaos.

A few of the boys laughed under their breath, while the girls exchanged wide-eyed glances. Y/N felt something stir in her chest—something dangerously close to satisfaction.

Lia, to her credit, didn’t let the jab shake her for long. She flipped her hair, plastering on an amused smile. “Well, I guess we’ll have to change that.” Her voice was dripping with confidence, but there was an edge to it—one that didn’t go unnoticed.

Hyunjin didn’t reply. He just leaned back, expression unreadable, fingers tapping idly against his knee.

But Y/N saw the way his eyes flickered toward her.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure who the real target of that kiss had been.

The villa buzzed with anticipation as Y/N took her seat, the blindfold pressing lightly against her skin. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, anticipation thick in the air.

She felt him approach before she saw him—warm hands cupping her face in a way that sent a thrill through her, even with the blindfold on. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks, gentle but deliberate. There was no mistaking it—this wasn’t just a playful, casual kiss. This was someone who wanted to kiss her, who was taking their time, making sure the moment was intimate.

Her breath caught as his lips finally met hers, soft, slow, and deliberate.

The kiss was teasing at first, not rushing, not pushing. It was almost like he was savoring it, letting the connection between them build. And as the seconds stretched on, Y/N found herself leaning into him, feeling the faint pressure of his lips—gentle but sure.

There was a feeling that washed over her, something that felt so familiar. As if she’d been kissed like this before. As if their lips had met in the quiet spaces of her mind, long before this moment.

But the timer buzzed, pulling her back to reality.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what just happened. Slowly, she peeled off the blindfold.

And there he was—

Han.

Her heart skipped a beat.

There he stood, his posture relaxed but with a hint of tension that wasn’t there before. His usual cocky grin was absent, replaced by something far more serious.

He didn’t say a word as he stood up and walked away, his hands casually slipping into his pockets.

Y/N’s breath caught in her chest. Was that it?

Her face burned with a rush of confusion and frustration. What did it mean?

Mia’s voice cut through her thoughts. “GIRL.”

The villa was buzzing with chatter, eyes darting between them. People were clearly processing the kiss—there was something different about it. A connection that felt real, not just for the challenge.

But Han?

He didn’t look at her again. Didn’t acknowledge the kiss, didn’t even meet her eyes. He just kept walking away, his steps slow and calculated.

But that moment—when he kissed her—had felt like so much more than a game.

The night after the kiss challenge, Lia couldn’t get Hyunjin out of her mind. It was obvious that he was playing the long game—and Lia loved that. He wasn’t easy to crack, and that made him even more desirable. But Lia wasn’t about to back down now.

She found him alone by the pool later that evening, the firelight reflecting off the water and casting shadows across his face. He was sitting with his legs stretched out, arms resting behind his head like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Lia didn’t wait. She walked right up to him, stopping just in front of him and standing tall, leaning down slightly so their faces were close enough for him to feel the heat radiating off her.

“I know you’re trying to play it cool, Hyunjin,” she said, her voice dripping with confidence. “But I can see right through you.”

He glanced up at her, that playful smirk finally breaking through. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice low.

“Oh yeah,” she said, leaning in just a little closer, her eyes locking with his. “You want to act like you’re not interested, like you don’t care, but I know the truth.” She paused, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “You’re intrigued. And you’re not as immune to me as you think.”

Hyunjin didn’t say anything at first. He simply looked at her—assessing. There was no denying that his eyes softened just a little, that something flickered behind the usual playful front. But he didn’t give in.

Instead, he stood up slowly, inches away from her. “You think you have me all figured out?”

Lia tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t just think it. I know it.”

A beat of silence passed, and Lia could feel the pull between them. Hyunjin was holding back, but it was only a matter of time before he couldn’t resist her anymore. Lia was done waiting.

With a confident smile, she took a step forward, closing the gap between them. “I’ll wait, Hyunjin. I don’t mind making you come to me. But when you do, you’ll be all in.”

And just like that, she turned on her heel, walking away, leaving him with that unfinished tension hanging between them.

Lia knew Hyunjin would never be easy, but she wasn’t afraid of the chase. In fact, she thrived on it.

The firepit cracked softly as Y/N found herself drawn to Han. She had to know. She needed to know.

The other islanders had scattered, but Han was sitting alone, his posture relaxed, but there was something about the way he stared into the flames that made her gut twist.

She approached him slowly, taking a deep breath before speaking. “About that kiss…”

Han’s eyes flickered to her as she spoke. He didn’t immediately answer—just looked at her, his gaze intense, almost too intense. There was something about the way his eyes held hers that made her feel like he was seeing right through her.

“What about it?” His voice was low, gentle, but underneath it, there was something raw. Vulnerable.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Was it just for the challenge?”

The air between them was thick with unspoken words. Han’s expression softened for just a second, and then his lips curled into the faintest of smiles. It wasn’t his usual playful smirk. This one was different—almost like he was holding something back.

“No,” he said softly. “It wasn’t just for the challenge.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her thoughts swirling. She opened her mouth to say something, but Han stood up suddenly, his movements fluid, as if everything was happening in slow motion.

Before she could respond, he walked away, his shoulders slightly tense, like he was leaving something unsaid.

The words hovered in the air, hanging between them like a heavy cloud. Han didn’t even look back—he just kept walking, his gaze straight ahead, but Y/N could feel it. He was fighting something. Something deep within him.

And for the first time since entering the villa…

She didn’t know whether to run after him or let him walk away. But what she did know was that there was more to that kiss than either of them had admitted.

Han had feelings—and they were about to shake the villa to its core.

[upside-down-forever]

Haunting.

Summary:

When the Thunderbolts are forced to navigate each other’s worst memories in the psychic storm known as The Void, their darkest traumas come to light — memories buried, rewritten, or hidden for survival. As trust breaks and guilt resurfaces, the Thunderbolts must decide whether they're still just weapons — or something more.

Bob’s Void was tearing itself apart.

Cracks split across the sky like shattered glass, veins of lightning bleeding across a sea of black. Bob’s memory fragments collided mid-air—faces from different pasts, dissonant voices whispering through one another. Yelena sprinted through the chaos with blood pounding in her ears.

Behind her: Bob. Ava. Walker. Alexi. Bucky.

They ran toward the rift they’d torn open — a last-minute backdoor engineered by Ghost’s tech and raw willpower. The team had each been trapped inside their own psychoscape, forced to face guilt-laced memories, reliving sins they buried deep. The Void was collapsing now, its foundation unravelling as too many minds brushed too many truths.

Only one way out.

And it went through each one of their voids.

-----

The stepped though and fell.

Not down, exactly.

Not through space.

Through themselves.

The team dropped into an overwhelming field of static. White noise buzzed in their ears. The world shattered around them into broken mirrors — hundreds of cracked reflections showing pieces of Ava Starr: Screaming. Running. Phasing. Vanishing.

“Where are we—”

Alexi didn’t get to finish the question before version of Ava blinked past him, twitching like a skipping record.

Suddenly The Void stabilized just enough for them to breathe.

They stood in an empty hallway. Cold. Clinical. Clean.

S.H.I.E.L.D. white.

Glass windows on either side looked into rooms that weren’t there — they flickered, glitching, sometimes showing sterile labs, sometimes the charred wreckage of an explosion. Sometimes showing simply nothing.

At the far end of the corridor stood a child, maybe just seven years old, curled into a corner, her body flickering in and out of visibility like a dying lightbulb.

Ava.

Bucky took a slow breath and looked at Ava. “Your Void.”

Walker blinked. “Where’s the trauma?”

Yelena looked at him.

“This is the trauma.”

The child in the corner phased, curled tighter, blinked again.

Suddenly, one of the doors behind them slammed open and they were thrusted through.

An older Ava — barely a teenager now was strapped to a chair, wires embedded in her arms. Machines hummed. A scientist, face obscured, made notes while she convulsed in pain.

“No sedative,” the voice said. “It interrupts the phase state. She must remain aware.”

Ava stood a few feet away frozen, watching herself suffer.

The lights flickered. The scene changed once more.

The now adult Ava, mid-mission, phasing through a wall and snapping a guard’s neck without a sound. No expression. No pleasure. Just execution.

The world phased again to a younger Ava, being taught to hold a knife — not by a parent, but by a man in a suit with a S.H.I.E.L.D. patch and a stopwatch.

“Two seconds. That’s all you get. In, out, vanish.”

He held onto a stop watch with a stern loom on his face, no kindness, no compassion.

The world flash once more.

Ava alone, sitting in the dark. Phasing in her sleep. Crying without sound.

And then— absolute stillness.

The corridor vanished.

They stood in a void of nothing. White mist. No sound. No walls. Just a Ghost.

The real Ghost.

Ava.

She stood barefoot in the silence. Not phasing. Not twitching.

Just breathing.

“This is where I go,” she said softly. “When I don’t want to feel the pain.”

No one moved.

A looked around them. “I used to think if I completed enough missions, they’d fix me. Stabilize me. Let me rest. But it was never about that. It was always about using me until I broke.”

Her hand lifted. It flickered once. But didn’t phase.

“I don’t dream. I don’t sleep right. I feel like I’m burning inside my own skin every day. There’s no peace. Only motion. Only tasks.”

Bob stepped forward gently. “But this place… you made it. You carved it out.”

Ghost nodded. “I needed somewhere still.”

The little girl version of her reappeared. Sat beside her. Both stared out into the nothing.

“I don’t know who I am.” Ava said. “But I want to find out. I want to be still.”

Yelena crossed her arms tightly. “We all do.”

Ava turned her head.

“Then maybe we start with surviving this.”

The child disappeared.

The mist began to tremble. The white turned to grey.

A door formed behind them — a glowing exit.

Everyone made their way towards it but Ava lingered.

Then she stepped forward. Just once.

And didn’t flicker when she did.

They stepped into the black.

------

But not true black. No — this darkness had a heartbeat. Red. White. Blue. Flashing like sirens. Loud.

A faint whistle. Then—

BOOM.

They flinched as a gunshot cracked the silence.

Suddenly, they stood in the centre of a city square. One they all vaguely recognized from the news years ago. Cobblestones. Flags. Bystanders frozen in mid-scream. A viral nightmare caught on camera.

The shield was in motion before they could orient themselves.

SLAM.

Blood sprayed across the pavement.

SLAM.

John Walker — in the full Captain America suit, the cheap knock-off version — stood over a lifeless body, screaming through gritted teeth as he raised the bloodied shield again.

Yelena’s breath caught in her throat. Even Alexi didn’t move.

The blood glistened red on the white star. A trail ran into the cobblestones like paint across marble.

Bob murmured, “This is—”

Walker stepped into the scene.

The real Walker, not the one wielding the shield.

He looked at the memory in front of him, jaw clenched so tight it might snap.

“Don’t watch this,” he muttered.

But no one looked away.

Ava stood silently at his side. “We’ve all seen it already. The world saw it.”

John swallowed hard. “Not like this. They didn’t see it.”

The Void twisted. A memory flashed before them as if it was being relived in this exact moment.

John’s memory.

Suddenly they were inside a military base.

The sounds of mortar fire thundered in the distance. A younger Walker shouted into a radio, dragging a wounded soldier behind cover. Blood soaked through his sleeves. Two men already dead beside him. His best friend, Lemar, still alive — but not for long.

The explosion that took Lemar blinked across the scene like a dying memory.

Back in the square. The screaming returned.

The man he killed was unarmed, terrified.

Walker’s doppelgänger raised the shield again.

The real Walker shouted across the scene, “He killed Lemar! He killed my brother!”

But the words rang hollow here.

No one responded.

Yelena stepped forward slowly. “That was your excuse. Not the reason.”

Walker turned on her. “He did. He was part of the ambush.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But that’s not why you did it. You didn’t kill him because of Lemar. You killed him because you had the shield. Because the world was watching.”

Walker looked down.

“That’s what you can’t face,” she added, quieter now. “You were angry. You had power. And you wanted everyone to see you use it.”

The red sirens continued to pulse.

Walker dropped to one knee, face twisted. “I wanted to be him.”

“Captain America?” Alexei asked, bitter. “Join the club.”

“No. I wanted to be someone. I thought the uniform would make me good. I thought the shield would make me right.”

He looked at his hands.

“I held it like it meant something. And I stained it forever.”

Yelena crossed her arms, watching the loop — the moment Walker struck again and again, the blood never stopping.

“That part’s true,” she said flatly. “You did.”

Walker didn’t deny it.

“You came back from this Walker. You didn’t have to. You could’ve vanished. Hid behind another uniform.” Yelena’s voice tailed off. John looked up, something like despair upon his face.

“You stayed. You joined us. You take hits that don’t get you headlines. You’re still trying.”

Walker stood slowly.

The shield vanished from the scene. The body on the ground faded into shadow.

Only silence remained.

Then a chime — a glowing tear forming in the air behind them.

The way out.

Walker lingered one last second, looking at the empty space where Nico had died.

“I remember his face,” he said quietly. “I always will.”

No one said anything.

They followed him out.

----

They arrived in a ruined stadium — wide, crumbling, ancient-looking but familiar. Soviet banners flapped lazily in a wind that didn’t exist. The stands were empty, rows of seats shattered and rusted. Graffiti scrawled across every surface: slogans, mockery, faded propaganda. A torn poster fluttered on a wall nearby — Alexei’s face, painted in bold, heroic strokes, red star on his chest, jaw set in courage.

Except someone had drawn X’s over his eyes.

Yelena was the first to speak. “What is this?”

Alexei didn’t answer.

At the centre of the stadium, facing a younger version of himself.

The younger Alexei stood tall, proud and barrel-chested in a crisp Red Guardian suit. His arms crossed, a glimmering shield at his side. He looked like a hero from a comic book — clean lines, impossible confidence.

“You again,” the older Alexei muttered.

His younger self sneered.

“You should have stayed in the cold, old man,” the younger version said in perfect English. “You were a myth once. Now you’re a joke. They remember Captain America. They remember the Avengers.”

He gestured to the decaying stadium.

“This is all that’s left of you.”

The real Alexei stood his ground, but he looked smaller somehow. Beaten before a punch was thrown.

“I tried,” he said. “I did what they told me. I followed every order.”

“You let them lock you away,” his younger self snapped. “And you liked it. You liked hiding behind stories of your glory. You tell tales in prison while the world forgets you existed.”

Alexei’s voice cracked. “They erased me.”

“They didn’t have to. You did it yourself.”

The young Alexei stepped closer.

“You let Dreykov win. You let him take those girls. Your girls. And you called yourself father?”

Yelena flinched. Her jaw tightened.

Alexei bowed his head. “I didn’t know what he was doing. Not really. Not until it was too late.”

“But you suspected. And you let it happen.”

The younger Red Guardian threw his shield. It slammed into the wall behind the team with a resounding clang. No one moved.

“You weren’t a father. You were a mascot. A sad punchline.”

Alexei turned away, shoulders hunched. “I believed I was helping my country.”

“No,” the echo said, stepping right into his face now. “You believed you mattered. And when the country forgot you… you started lying to yourself.”

Yelena’s voice cut in, cold and sharp.

“That’s enough.”

The projection looked toward her — and smirked.

“You should hate him, little one. He let them break you. Broke your sister. He failed you in every way that matters.”

Yelena didn’t flinch.

“I do,” she said. “Sometimes.”

She looked at Alexei.

“But I also saw him drag his broken body into Dreykov’s sky fortress to get us out. I saw him bleed trying to make it right.”

The younger Alexei faltered.

Yelena stepped closer to the real Alexei.

“You’re not the man on the poster,” she said. “You never were.”

Alexei looked at her.

“But you’re trying.”

Behind them, the stadium began to shake. Stone cracked. The false image of young Alexei blurred like a bad signal, flickering.

“You don’t deserve to forget,” it hissed. “You live with it.”

“I do,” Alexei whispered. “Every day.”

His ghost dissolved.

The stadium split down the centre, a golden rift opening in the sky.

“Let’s go,” Ava said quietly.

They crossed the threshold,the first step into the Void was like being plunged underwater.

No sound. No time.

Just a sudden pressure in the chest.

Then snow.

-----

The Thunderbolts emerged into a forest clearing buried in white. The kind of deep Russian winter that muffles everything. No wind. No birds. Just snowfall in slow motion, thick and quiet.

Yelena was already ahead of them.

She wasn’t leading. She was drawn. Walking through the trees like she had no choice.

“Yelena—” Bob called out.

She didn’t hear him. Or couldn’t.

Because she was back there again.

A child’s boots broke the silence ahead — small, hurried footfalls, crunching through the snow.

Yelena saw her.

The girl.

Nine, maybe ten. Pale blue coat. Dark braids bouncing as she ran. A red scarf slipping from her shoulder like a stream of blood. She didn’t look back.

Yelena’s mouth moved soundlessly. She wasn’t breathing.

“Bring her to him.”

The voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere. Dreykov’s voice. Cold. Mechanical.

Yelena turned sharply toward it, but there was nothing behind her.

Just silence.

The girl in the snow tripped. Fell. Scrambled to her feet again, terrified.

Crunch.

Someone else stepped into the snow behind her.

A tall figure.

Face unseen. Head obscured by blur and shadow and movement that didn’t make sense. Like trying to remember a dream.

Yelena stared at the figure, her whole body shaking.

She’d seen this before. Lived it. But her mind had protected her. Shoved it into a corner she couldn’t reach.

Until now.

The man raised a gun.

“Don’t—” Yelena whispered.

Her voice cracked.

“Please don’t.”

The gunshot rang out like thunder.

The girl dropped. One motion. No scream.

The snow drank it quietly.

Yelena collapsed to her knees.

“I tried to stop them,” she choked. “I told her not to run. I thought she might make it.”

Bob moved to her side, slowly. Carefully. Like she might break apart if touched too quickly.

The others followed. Alexi. Ava. Walker.

Because now the figure was turning.

The gun still smoking.

And even though his face was a blur, there was something about the angle of his shoulders. The slow, pained gait as he turned away. The hesitation. The human beneath the weapon.

But Yelena never saw his face.

She didn’t need to.

This was the day she stopped believing she could save anyone.

A tear froze on her cheek.

“I remember thinking I hated him,” she whispered. “But I never knew who he was. Never saw.”

The Void began to fracture.

The trees faded. The snow dissolved into floating dust.

The girl was gone.

But the red scarf remained — fluttering gently in the still air.

Bucky picked it up.

No one said a word.

The portal ahead pulsed again. The next Void waited.

Yelena stood slowly.

She didn’t look back.

-----

It was silent.

Fresh snow blanketed the ground, untouched and perfect. The trees were skeletal, brittle-looking, their branches cutting into a grey sky. The air was cold enough to bite. But the chill that gripped Yelena had nothing to do with the temperature.

They knew this place.

Too well. They had just been here.

“No,” she muttered. “No, no, no—”

Her boots crunched in the snow as she turned in place, eyes darting, breathe shortening.

Alexi frowned. “Did we make a wrong turn? Where are we?”

“My void,” Yelena said tightly. “We’re still in my head.”

The team fell quiet as a figure appeared ahead, trudging slowly through the snow.

Yelena’s younger self stepped out from behind the tree as she always did. But this time the figure behind her that was always obscured in Yelena’s own void was clear as day.

He was familiar but not the man they knew — this version moved like a machine: precise, silent, colder than the landscape around him. He wore black tactical gear. His expression was blank.

They followed him with instinctive caution, watching the memory unfold from the side-lines like silent ghosts.

That’s when she saw her again.

The same girl.

The same pale blue coat and red scarf.

“No,” Yelena said, her voice strangled. “No.”

The girl tripped centre of the snowy street, unsure where to run. She turned, eyes wide.

A breath.

A flash of movement—

An arm raises. A gun fires.

The girl jerked forward, face-first into the snow. Blood bloomed.

Yelena stared, unmoving.

The silence in her chest broke into a roar.

She shoved past the others, stumbling into the snow, staring at the fallen body like it would rise again if she got there fast enough. Her knees hit the ground next to the girl.

It was her. The girl from her own Void. The girl she failed.

And the shooter…

She turned, slowly.

Bucky.

No.

The Winter Soldier.

It was him. Not an arm. Not a shadow. A person.

He stared at the girl’s body like it had just begun bleeding. Like he’d never stopped seeing it bleed.

“You,” Yelena whispered. “It was you.”

The rest of the team froze behind her.

Bucky didn’t move. “I know.”

Yelena stood, the weight of it crushing her.

“You’re the one I see every time I sleep,” she said, voice rising. “You’re the arm in my Void. You killed her. I watched her fall. And I didn’t even know it was you.”

“I didn’t either.” Bucky said, his voice thick, ragged.

Her jaw clenched. “She was a child.”

“I know,” he said again, quieter. “She’s the one that broke through first. Her face. I didn’t know her name. But I remembered the way she looked at me.”

Yelena’s fists trembled at her sides. “She was my test. She was an innocent. She was my first assist before my first kill.”

He said nothing.

The team stood back, giving them space, unsure whether to intervene or bear witness.

Yelena stepped closer, inches from him now.

“You don’t get to be sorry,” she spat. “You don’t get to remember her like she meant something to you.”

“I remember them all. I don’t know her name, but I remember her.”

The snow kept falling. Time twisted strangely here — no urgency, only truth.

Yelena stared at him, hatred and grief warring in her chest. But she also saw the raw pain in him, the tremor in his voice. The way he hadn’t tried to explain it away.

She turned, stared back down at the girl’s body.

The void scene began to crack. The memory breaking down.

The exit was opening.

“We go now,” Walker said, low and urgent.

Yelena didn’t move for a long moment. She looked back at Bucky.

And finally, she said, “I’m glad you carry her with you. At least I am not alone with it. ”

She walked through the crack of light.

They emerged from the last Void into dead silence.

-----

Not just around them—within them.

Each of the Thunderbolts stood motionless in the battered hallway that served as the Void’s final exit chamber, eyes hollow, breaths uneven. Alexei was muttering something to himself. Walker leaned back against a wall, jaw clenched like he was chewing through memory. Ava paced without sound.

But Yelena…

She didn’t move.

Her boots were still planted where the light spat them out.

She stared forward. Past everyone. Through the wall.

Like she was still there.

In the snow.

In her- no. In Bucky’s memory.

The same girl. The same trees.

The same crack of the gun.

Only this time, the face had been clear.

Him.

The man who had been walking beside her. Watching her back. Sharing silent glances across briefing tables and dark missions. The man who knew something about guilt, about pain, about hands that didn’t feel like yours.

He was behind her now, a few paces back.

But he didn’t dare move closer.

“I didn’t know,” he said finally. His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in hours. “Not until the Void showed it to me.”

Yelena turned, slowly. Not fast enough to look like anger.

Worse.

Deliberate. Controlled.

“You didn’t know?” she repeated, her accent a razor.

Bucky met her eyes. He didn’t flinch.

“I got wiped often. I knew but I didn’t know.”

Her breath hitched. “I was ten.”

“I know.”

“No,” she snapped, stepping forward. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say I know and stand there like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I never pulled the trigger!” Her voice cracked open, raw and hoarse. “I was told to bring her back. I told her to stop running. I tried to—”

She broke off. Turned away. Bit the side of her palm until it went white.

Bob stepped forward, hesitating. “Yelena…”

She raised a hand to stop him.

No one else moved.

Finally, Bucky said, softer. “Then why did your Void end there?”

She froze.

He went on, like he was pulling barbed wire from his throat. “That’s the moment you live in. Not the missions. Not the escape. That girl. Her blood. Her death. You carry it like you pulled the trigger. That’s what I saw. What I felt in your Void.”

She turned back slowly. Tears in her eyes now — not falling, but held there. Defiant. Controlled. That Widow training didn’t break easily.

“So what? You want forgiveness?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then why are you talking?”

“Because I think the people who made us into this want us to stay broken.” He took one step closer. “And I don’t want to give them that.”

The silence between them was unbearable.

“You killed her,” she whispered.

He didn’t argue. “I did.”

“I needed her to mean something,” she said. “And now all I’ll ever see is your face when I remember her.”

Bucky’s voice was almost gone. “I’m sorry.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Then, softly—almost inaudible—Yelena said:

“I don’t forgive you.”

He nodded.

“But I don’t hate you either.”

His eyes met hers.

Yelena turned and walked past him. Not touching. Not looking back.

Bucky stayed where he was, rooted in place, letting the weight of it settle.

Because he understood now.

He stilled hadn’t earned it, there was still work to do.

[carolmunson]

love language seven

love language set list another sunday another sun-slay love language blurbies are back in action -- again, these are just vingettes into a relationship with eddie no chronological timeline, no story -- just mini moments. tw: like most of my work, this is 18+. smut, but it's artsy and slow.

your eyes open before his, body sore from last night -- jumping and screaming to corroded coffin's late night set at the bar. fourth date deliverance from your guitar god on stage, stumbling from jack and cokes, from seeing you in the crowd, flicking heat in his belly. he wasn't sure which one it was. you shouldn't have worn those high heel boots. he teases you when he takes them off of your feet, just as you settle into the squeaky leather booth of the diner. you protest, it's gross to not wear shoes in public but he says it's fine, you got cute socks on. his thumbs press into the ball of your foot, hiding in his lap under the table. the pressure feels nice. the pressure's not on, and if it is, you don't feel it.

the fries are crunchy -- fresh batch for their two am customers. the only twenty-four hour diner for miles. the burgers sober you both up real good, good enough for him to drive. "can i stay at yours?" the flicking heat had been from you the whole time. "you sure?" you're too tired to respond, eyes shutting while your head leans againt the cool window of his van. the street lights flash an orangey glow over your face -- there and gone, there and gone. he tries not to smile too hard. he tries not to feel the butterflies in his stomach. pretty girl in his car. pretty girl at his show. pretty girl in his bed. pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl. you wear his clothes to bed, soft and well worn. his favorite band tee from forever ago, a pair of old basketball shorts that are too small for him now. they're a little too small for you, too. in the best way, he thinks. he tries not to stare. pretty girl in his clothes. pretty girl in his trailer. he's too old to be this nervous. "i can sleep on the couch if y--" "would i ask to stay if i wanted you to sleep on the couch?"

he gulps. he knows he's gonna marry you. he knows even more by how well you fit together under the covers. how he just knows how to hold you. how your thigh slots over his hips. tangled up. you'd spend so many nights just like this. not talking. not kissing -- just holding each other in the still of the night. just the moon's phases letting him see you. the way you sleep. the way you hold him. the way he holds you.

in the morning, you scan him. still wrapped up with your leg around him. his chest rising and falling, lips slack and slightly parted -- he's so pretty. pretty boy in his bed. pretty boy with his arms around you. pretty boy who paid for your food at the diner. you shift, turning to look at the clock on his bedside table only for the early afternoon's harsh light to greet you. your eyes squint, you groan. eleven thirty in the morning. you shift again. "hm," he whines, groggy and sleepy. his eyes are still shut but his brows pinch. you're too far away. fingers that deftly scattered over strings the night before pull at his t-shirt on your body. finger pads pressing into the fleshy parts of you to pull you back into him. you mumble hello's while his eyes open half way. pretty girl stayed the night. he leans in to kiss you like he did on your second date, lips pillowy and plush against yours. you can't help yourself. pushing forward on your side to taste more of him. he smirks, he can't help it. it feels like winning at the arcade in the summer time. he hoists up your thigh and you feel it graze his own excitement, hard and thick beneath his boxers. he breaks away, embarrassed. pink heat pricks at the tops of his ears, splotchy on his cheeks. he's too pretty. he gulps again when you redirect, pulling him close to kiss you deeper. guitar fingers resting on your cheek, early afternoon sun glinting on your earrings. he can't help the way he presses against you when you kiss him like that. calloused hands dip under the covers to the swell of your hip. "baby..." he murmurs. is this okay? do you want this? should we do this? "hm," you huff against his lips, your own hand dipping under the covers, teasing the band of his boxer shorts. his breath shortens to quiet puffs when you start to relieve him. pretty girl in his bed. pretty girl touching him the way he dreams about. your wrist is circled by his hand, pressed against the mattress just above your head. on your back he can see you even better -- your smeared mascara. the remnants of your eyeliner. still so pretty. both of your bottoms don't make it past a few minutes, needy and desperate. his face lingering over yours while he pushes himself in -- eyes never closing even when they brim with pleasure soaked tears. your legs instinctively bend and raise while he starts slow, languid thrusts. gasps punching from both of your mouths while his hands pulse around yours, fingers laced and pressed among the pillows. the sounds of the trailer park pick up, summer sunday afternoons had the rib smokers out. small charcoal grills steaming. hoses spritzing and sputtering alive -- kids start to shreik with laughter, bubbling up against the tin slats outside. he feels bad covering your mouth when you start to get a little loud, pressing a kiss to your forehead, thrusts going from lazy to intentional. the window is open and he won't hear the end of it if the neighbors hear you. he got teased for weeks the last time they heard a girl say his name. he replaces his palm with his lips, tongue, and teeth. a dance you both seem to know all the moves for, like you trained up just to kiss each other. hiding in the sheets of his curls that covers both of your faces. but his face hides into the crook of your neck soon after, quieting the grunts and groans of his pleasure while each rock of his hips sends him hurtling over the precipice -- you both cum hard. you both catch your breath while he rolls over onto his back. he reaches to pull you back into him, the same position you woke up in on your side. his big brown eyes, shining with the light of 11:57 AM, look down at you in a way only a boy in love can do. "g'morning," he mumbles quietly. "g'morning."

[dragaliareferencearchive]

Model references for -Skirk -Diona -Candace -Dahlia Genshin Impact

[bladiesbunny]

fu xuan is fine , he got too yearning and it got in the way of eating , i 'll bring him and the others back in a few hours

[demigodsanswer]

I need to see more modern royals percabeth babies

ask and you shall receive

There wasn't anything Percy could do. This was a full-blown toddler tantrum. Sofia had thrown herself to the floor and refused to be picked up or comforted. She just wiggled at Percy's attempts to hold her until she was left to her own emotions on the floor.

"This is all part of this developmental stage," Maria told him, trying to comfort him more than the child.

"Mamma!" Sofia called out again.

"Mamma is busy, sweetheart," Percy said, not sure why he was trying to rationalize his way out of this. Fifteen minutes ago, Sofia had decided she wanted her mother, who was in a meeting with her father and the Prime Minister. Percy knew if he sent someone for Annabeth, she'd be up to her baby in a flash, but this wasn't an emergency. This was just their baby going through a very frustrating developmental phase.

"Try offering her some water," Maria suggested. "They can't scream and sob while they're drinking something."

Percy scooted closer to where the future queen of Sweden had decided to lay, and extended her sippy cup to her. "Do you want your juice, sweetheart?" He asked.

Sofia stuck her little arm out and took one of the handles. "Let's sit up, okay?" Percy said softly. His daughter listened, sitting up as she took a big drink. Already her sobs started to fade, and when she stopped drinking, she just stared at him, her eyes big, wet, and green, as if she couldn't remember why she had been so emotional in the first place.

"You want a hug?" Percy asked.

Sofia nodded and ran over to him. He gave her a big squeeze, and used the moment to covertly check her diaper. She was wet, but he'd hold off on changing her until he was sure the odds of her throwing a fit mid-change were lower. She'd only just turned two last month, but, at least among the grown ups, the potty training conversation had already started.

Of course, circumstances as they were, there were about to be a few other big changes in Sofia's life. All of their lives.

"Do you want your baby?" Percy asked. Sofia nodded against his shoulder.

She'd always had baby dolls, but she'd become attached to this one in particular ever since they told her she was going to be a big sister. Percy and Annabeth were glad to see how gently she handled her baby, cradling it gently and kissing its head. Most of the time. Sure, sometimes she dragged it along by a limb, but that was because the baby doll was about half of her tiny size. She couldn't be expected to carry it all the time.

Percy cradled Sofia in his lap, as Sofia cradled her baby.

"When your baby sister gets here, she will need a lot of attention from Mommy and Daddy, but we'll still be here," he promised her. "And you're going to be able to help us take care of her, like you take care of your baby."

Sofia brushed the plastic-y brown hair off of her baby's forehead, before kissing her baby and shushing her dad.

"She's sleeping," Sofia said simply. Percy wasn't sure she'd listened to him at all.

"Okay," Percy whispered back. "Should we put her in the crib?" Sofia nodded. They placed Baby in Sofia's crib. Sofia looked sleepy herself, and she was due for a nap, but Percy needed to change her first.

Maria had set up the changing table for him. He maybe didn't let the woman do her job as much as he should, but she was still the most valuable help they had. Sofia complied with the diaper change. By the time Percy picked her up off the changing table her eyes were closing.

Percy kissed her forehead before he placed her in her crib next to baby, brushing her hair off her forehead as her eyes closed.

And then the nursery door opened. Annabeth opened it slowly, quietly peaking into the room, her belly entering first. Seven months in, two more to go. Her efforts to stay quiet were in vain. Sofia's eyes shot open, and then she was on her feet in the crib.

"Mamma!" She yelled, happy again.

Annabeth smiled and went over to her, pressing kiss after kiss to her girl's head.

"[It's nap time,]" Annabeth reminded her.

Sofia just lifted her arms, begging her mom to pick her up. Annabeth glanced at Percy, silently apologizing for undoing all of his hard work. But she picked her child up, resting her on her hip, carefully navigating around her belly, before getting into the plush rocking chair. Sofia babbled something in Swedish to her mother. Percy's Swedish had improved a lot in the last four years, but his daughter's babbles were a different language entirely.

"She says her baby wants to be rocked," Annabeth said. Percy handed Sofia baby.

"No!" Sofia yelled. "[You do it!]"

Percy looked at Annabeth, and then at Maria. And he realized he had two choices: rock the baby doll in his arms or risk another melt down.

"Thirty-two and already a put-upon grandfather," Percy said with a sigh as he started rocking baby.

[vikkerli]

I am currently screaming, crying, throwing up (negative)

I’m very tired

Art is cool as fuck tho

[clare-875]

Until The End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 36

[The Peace We Dreamt Of]

_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)

Summary: "You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."

The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.

The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.

[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Thirty-Five] <--> [Chapter Thirty-Seven] _____

(Warnings: Descriptions of Blood, Injury, Death, Canonical Violence)

You ready your gear as Falco approaches the site of war once again, trying to dodge the hundreds of projectiles that fill the air by innumerable War Hammer Titans crowding the Founding Titan's back. You ready yourself to dive down alongside Reiner and Jean with the role to rid of as many Titans as possible so Jean can pull the detonator on the nape of the massive Titan. Just before Flaco levels down, however, Levi uses the opportunity to gently grasp your hand in his making your turn to his gaze. He hesitates and you do too, looking at each other for the last time before what you knew to be the final fight. He squeezes your hand gently eyes wavering on yours before you reach out and tuck a strand of raven hair away from his face, trying to ease your worry and his. 

"Just... don't die," he mutters and your heart constricts at the words he had spoken to you countless times. "Don't do anything stupid," you say with a shaky smile, before pulling him in for a quick hug, "I love you." Levi freezes at the proclamation but as you go to leave, he pulls you back to him quickly, "I love you too." His voice is barely audible but you hear him nonetheless. You have no time to react however as Jean calls to you and so you turn away from him and his sharp grey eyes, the safety that encompasses them, to the danger that awaits you below.  Your heart rate picks up and you squeeze your eyes shut before unsheathing your swords, then, you dive. You feel the air push against you harshly as you fall. A gold glow envelops you as Reiner transforms into the Armoured Titan, and Jean falls from behind you as you attach and detach once more to the Founding Titan. 

Reiner moves first yelling at us to go on as he takes on the hundreds of War Hammer Titans that conjure. You watch as they summon innumerable weapons surrounding his Armoured form but yell out to Jean's hesitance to keep going. The both of you leave Reiner to struggle against the countless Titans, but you weave against countless more that obstruct your path. You slash and turn across the vicinity, cutting through the napes of those that reach out to you whilst trying to ignore the fact that if all else fails, death is what awaits you. You move at astonishing speeds causing havoc along the way. Each Titan that rises falls, and yet you can keep up with the pace of Jean who barely needs to slice through any amid your destructions. 

Even your squad members that still sit aboard Falco look in astonishment at your barely visible form flashing across space, Titans around you falling relentlessly. Levi takes one last look at your fighting form, heavy worry in his heart before Falco flies off towards the tail-end of the Founding Titan so the rest of your squad members can try and find Armin: the second phase of your plan. All is going well and Jean remains unscathed, however, apprehension fills the air, as once again a Jaw Titan, known for its agility goes to attack Jean once more. You grit your teeth before flying across space, quickly killing the Titan, and a sharp pounding reached the air as it fell. Jean turns wide-eyed, not having noticed his almost-death, but you look at him sharp-eyed, urging him onwards.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" 

You don't allow him to reply before you are off again, and he leaves reluctantly to find the detonator to the explosives Pieck had planted around the Founder's nape. Speaking of Pieck, she had finally been able to recover enough to remove her form from her Titan that was still impaled under the weight of a War Hammer Titan's weapon. She runs, before transforming once more, and when she sees Jean's pursuit of the detonators, joins you in keeping a now-growing hoard of Jaw Titans at bay. She moves, aligning to your movements and every time a Jaw Titan goes to tear away at her, her human form merely escapes once more before transforming again. She fights, transforming dozens of times when necessary and you choose to ignore the fast pace of your heart and instead use your adrenaline to your advantage as you fight against the Titans who are stubborn in their pursuit of you all. 

Your mind wonders to Levi momentarily among the bloodbath you cause and you think of the goal you know he still sets himself... to kill Zeke. You have all yet to see the man amid the fight but you knew he was present; he had to be for Eren to uphold the use of the Founding Titan completely. You knew the burden of not fulfilling his last pledge to Erwin. He had never failed a task appointed to him by the Commander and you knew that though he was to stay atop Falco with Gabi, the mere sight of the man he despised would force him into the battle by the sheer will of his emotions. Your thoughts are broken when you see Pieck's form suddenly fall from the sky, with no question the cause being exhaustion from constantly transforming. "Pieck!" You yell before flashing over to her and barely dodging the claws of another Jaw Titan who approaches her. Your eyes turn and now you see Jean struggles against Titans that are in the way. When you turn back, Reiner has been impaled several times, struggling under the weight of one that pins him down. 

Suddenly it seems as though victory will be sparse as you see that Pieck has injured her arm hindering her transformation as she winces in your grasp. Jean and Reiner are on the brink of destruction as they fight against Titans that surround them but barely remain moving. Your mind whirls, as no matter how fast you are, being the only one able to attack in your group would do nothing to stop the impending deaths that approach you all. You put Pieck down gently and grab out your swords harshly as two more Jaw Titans bound over to you two, and Pieck lets in a sharp intake of breath as she tries to stand back up and somehow fight. You wait for the blow and the inevitable fight that awaits, however, just as you were desperately going to try and help your comrades somehow survive, two more Titans come from behind the two that try to attack you. 

You hear the hitch of Pieck's voice as she looks up with tears in her eyes. "Porco! Marcel!" When you look back you realise that the Titans that attack are somehow conscious now, no longer their hollow shells, and their past holders are by some means helping you defeat other Titans that remain. You watch as another Titan helps retch away at those who tear at Jean and Reiner, helping to clear a path for you all. ‘Now's the time. Now or never.’  You move through the air, helping the now-conscious Titans pave a stronger path, you yell out, "Go, Jean!!" He reacts, quickly pushing himself to his feet. Several moments pass and the rumbling underneath the Founding Titan has gone quiet; somehow stopping. ‘Levi... could he have killed Zeke?’ Jean lets out a strangled cry as he dodges obstacles and finally, finally makes his way to the detonator. He grabs it now secure in his hold, and moving a small distance away, tears brim in his eyes as he screams out to Eren. 

"You damned... suicidal dumbass!" 

The explosion is huge, able to sever Eren's head from the Founding Titan's body as its nape erupts into massive flames that now spill fumes in the sky. You grit your teeth as you try to steady yourself among the waves and waves of heat that burst upon you looking away at the sudden bright encompassment of the eruption. When you look back you see a large, glowing, worm-like essence spill from the nape of the Founding Titan. Your eyes widen as you wonder if this is the Titan's true form, glowing a sharp white as it somehow looks alive in the air. "That thing's gonna go for Eren's head again!" Jean yells out from where he is below you, and you look up to see that what he's saying is true and that the large skeletal worm now dives for Eren's Titan head crushed within the ground. Reiner, also following your gaze now reacts, damned if we had to go through all of that once again. 

He moves out of nowhere holding on to the worm-like being tightly, letting out a guttural roar as he is dragged across the ground under the weight of its strength. "Jean, Pieck, Captain!" Connie's voice now calls out to you as you see Porco's flying Titan approaching you. "We're getting out of here! Armin's gonna blow all of this up!" Jean pauses in hesitation whilst Pieck comes forward now in her Titan form, before revealing herself. "Wait! Reiner's down there!" Jean calls out in hesitation, but Pieck retorts quickly, knowing time is of the essence. "The Armoured Titan should be able to withstand the Colossal's explosion." You nod your head quickly turning to the two as you speak up quickly. "Regardless, to pass up this chance would be to trample on Reiner's resolve. Quickly, let's go!" 

You all jump onto Falco, Levi instantly reaching for your form and holding you securely, relief brimming in his eyes as well as determination. Armin exchanges position with you all as he now lands on the Founding Titan, a sombre look on his face. You grit your teeth as the wind blows harshly against you and Falco flies further into the distance until Armin finally lifts his hand to his mouth slowly. Mikasa turns to the sight, utter despair on her face as you see him mutter something that looks like goodbye before biting his hand. There is another explosion but this time much larger than the one before. The heat that attacks you is surreal, and the deep orange of the eruption lights up all that surrounds you. The Colossal Titan's massive form is seen from within, but nothing else could survive such an attack. You all fly away leaving him in the wake of his destruction. 

..... 

You watch with sullen emotion as you see Pieck, Falco and Gabi reunite with their families that had actually survived, and sought refuge on the very land you had just fought in, all the way from Libero. Levi's arm is around yours as he leans on you heavily, unable to use the leg that had been torn by the Titan in the battle. Your other squadmates stand by you as you look at the sight of the three Warriors crying and hugging and clutching their families in relief. "I can't say I don't have any regrets," Connie speaks in a muted tone, "Still, what we did was right, wasn't it? We did stop the rumbling..." You sigh outwardly but watch the joy that lingers amongst the destructions bittersweetly. "Armin!" Mikasa's voice breaks you free of your thoughts as you turn to see the Colossal Titan rise from smoke and gravel that still linger in the air. "Reiner!" You watch as the Armoured Titan also rises from the debris somehow alright amid the explosion. 

Your relief is short-lived however when Connie's voice cracks as he looks to your right. "Hey! Look over there!" Your breath hitches as you turn, only to see that the being that you had used all your power on - the strange glowing skeletal worm – had still survived the destructions. You feel your heart drop at the sight of it still moving and rising from the demolition. "It's still alive, even after taking that blast?!" Connie shouts out in disbelief, as Jean voices his utter discomposure at such as being. "What on earth is it?" Levi groans from next to you as he observes the sight as well. "Who knows? But I do know we can't let it live."

Then, it happens: Another explosion. Another glow. Another transformation. 

The Earth shakes as gold light seeps through space and you hear the surprisingly neutral tone of Jean rise from next to you. "Well, that figures... I didn't think that'd be enough to kill you." Connie's voice shakes as he looks on at Eren who once again transforms. "Yeah... But what do we do?" ‘Eren...’  You grit your teeth as Gabi approaches you once more, momentarily leaving her parents’ side. "This is bad! If the glowing thing and Eren come into contact, the rumbling might start again!" You speak up tensely observing the sight. "Yeah. We have to kill it... but it survived a blast by the Colossal... How...?" Levi voices his thoughts as you mutter yours, "The one we should target... is Eren... You've caught on, right? This nightmare won't end until we take him down." Suddenly around you, the air is filled with strange vapour and you look down to see that the glowing worm from below is now releasing strange gas into the air. 

"Did it die?" Mikasa utters from next to you, as you all try to escape the gas that now clouds the air around you. "No... It doesn't smell when Titans die." You say, remembering the countless times you have fought against Titans in the past. Never was there an ounce of stench that touched the sky, not like this. Connie's voice hitches as though he has come to a realisation and he turns to you all, dread in his eyes. "Could it be... What if it's like the stuff that was used in Ragako Village?" Your heart pounds, and then you come to a realisation as well... Ragako Village... Connie's hometown... downtrodden by humans suddenly turned into... Titans. "Mikasa! Pieck! Get on Falco we're getting out of here!" It's Levi who yells out, grip tightening on your form, but it's you who replies to Pieck's bewildered stare. "[l/n]s, Ackermans and Titan wielders are immune, remember?" You utter, eyes grim. "You know better than anyone what we've gotta do!" 

Pieck's face contorts into one of complete loss as her eyes are blank while she stares at you and Levi who now readies his gear despite his injuries. "What... no... It's too much..." But Levi turns in a fit of rage at her hesitation, knowing there is a lack of time. "Hurry! Let's go!" Your eyes fill with tears but you grab onto Pieck harshly, Falco transforming despite the anguish that fills his face. Pieck scrambles against your hold and you feel the frustration in you brim, weighing you down. Jean and Connie look at you, but they stand arm-in-arm next to each other, and you quickly turn away before you can also hesitate. Levi gets onto Porco's back and you quickly follow with Pieck and Mikasa, you grab onto the net on the Titan, as he lifts through the air. You turn around, Pieck screaming for her father, Porco's Titan roaring in grief at the skies. You look down seeing Jean and Connie's faces for the last time... until a bright gold glow takes over, and in place of where they stood... were Titans. 

..... 

Below you terror reins, as though you were actually in the midst of hell. 

Pieck transforms into her Titan as she dives away from Falco's Titan, rage clear in the depths of their eyes. She joins Reiner who struggles against the glowing worm and the army of Titans it had just summoned; the faces of our comrades and their families mutilated upon their forms. There is a pounding impact as Armin and Eren's Titan now attack each other in a raging fistfight, and all you can do is look down at the sight alongside Mikasa and Levi in utter grief and loss. Annie now joins the fray from a distance in her Female Titan form, trying with Reiner and Pieck to stop the glowing being whilst also not attacking the Titans composed of the families that tear away at them. Mikasa suddenly starts wailing out and you turn to the sight of her clutching her head harshly as though being tortured. "Mikasa!" You yell out trying to get her attention as Levi also turns eyes widening at her tormented state. "Pull it together! We're the only ones who can kill Eren now!" 

"It's too much... I can't take it anymore... I wanna go back... I wanna go back to our home..." 

You feel her pain through the way she clutches at her hair, the way her eyes fill with tears and the way she tries desperately to escape the reality of her current world. You grit your face before turning away remorsefully, knowing you can barely begin to imagine the depths of the emotions and turmoil she is currently going through. Armin and Eren still attack each other, fists rising and aiming, dodging and defending. The air is laden heavy with smoke and fire, the result of so much destruction evident upon the bare lands in which they brawl. Reiner takes damage alongside Pieck and Annie, blood spewing from where they are attacked, skin cracking against the weight of the glowing being they try desperately to force still. Mikasa has her eyes closed shut as you wonder if in the end, it would be up to you and Levi to try and put an end to it all... somehow. You know how much Mikasa cares for Eren, it was evident from your first interaction with the woman. You know how much she dreams of her and him, away from the midst of this war. 

You know how much she loves him. 

You know because you know what it's like to love in such a cruel world. Every day is encumbered with uncertainty and fear, not for yourself any longer, but for the other. How every action and word and argument brims from the depths of your care for your partner, for your hope that maybe you could escape hell... that maybe you could find normalcy with them. How every spare moment you try to spend with them. How you treasure every small moment, every small gesture, every small gift, every small ounce of their lives... because death was always a footstep behind. You would do anything for Levi.... kill anyone, destroy anything, stay anywhere, sacrifice yourself... You know the depths of hurt and anguish it takes to love when you are marked as a devil, deprived of basic freedoms, unable to have the life you hoped to have with him. That's why when you look down at the destruction below, you are ready to bear the death of Eren by your own hands and take that burden away from Mikasa. That's why your heart hammers when you prepare yourself to try and put an end to this war. 

That's why you're stunned when Mikasa rises from where she wallowed only moments before. 

She wraps her red scarf around her, one you have seen her hold so many times before. She stands forward atop Falco's Titan and she unsheathes her swords. Her voice trembles slightly but is sure and steady... confident. "Eren is in the mouth! Everyone, help me get there!" Your eyes widen at her sudden resolve heart pounding but you stand as Falco dives towards Eren's Titan. 

"Roger that Mikasa!" 

You and Levi dive, Thunder Spears in your grasps. Sparks fly as you both doge debris at indescribable speed approaching the massive Titan who stares blankly with its emerald green eyes. Your movements sync with the other as it did so many times before, and somehow you know that this might not only be the last chance, but the last time you fight like this. You turn dodging rocks as Levi does the same. You grasp onto your Thunder Spear and Levi grips his. You both grit your teeth before letting out a yell, and you both aim, before firing your weapons towards Eren's mouth. Mikasa flies in from behind as you and Levi use your gear to move out of the way. She goes forward, swords glinting under the weight of the destructive skies. She attaches to the gap made in the Titan's teeth from your impairment, and she slips into the Titan. Using her momentum, she lands within the mouth, before looking up and twisting her swords in a position ready to strike. She looks at the man she loves one last time. She feels herself at peace though devasted in this goodbye. 

She slices through Eren's neck. 

She ends the war. 

..... 

When you stumble through the remains of the aftermath smoke clouds your vision, as you ignore the voices of people coming together in relief and joy, as they turn from Titans back to humans. Instead, you search for the man you hoped to see. You walk, the weight of having fought for hours and hours, awake days upon days finally catching up on you. You search the grounds as you find yourself further away from everyone else, but seeing the only person you could ever need by your side... Levi. He leans against a massive land formation risen amid the ground looking at the smoke around him. His eyes are full of emotion and when you approach you feel your tears brim with relief. You sit next to him heavily, and he meets your gaze, before gripping onto your hand tightly. "[y/n]..." His voice softly utters to you as you open your momentarily closed eyes.

"Look who showed up." 

When your eyes turn forward that's when you see it, and you know Levi does too. It's Petra, It's Furlan... It's Miche... It's your subordinates... It's your squad members... It's Sasha... It's Erwin... It's Hange. "Were you watching?" Levi asks the figures who look at us with contented and serene smiles on their faces. "Seems this was the resolution that you gave your hearts for." In response, the ghosts of your comrades that stand before you, give you a salute, a fist to their chest. Your breath hitches, as you feel your tears fall returning the gesture alongside Levi who cries a lone tear too. Finally, they could be at peace. Soon, the figures in front of you fade, and you know it will be the last you see them on the barren Earth. 

Levi puts an arm around yours as you find yourselves alone and yet not so alone next to the other. You had finally made it through the clutches of confinement. You had finally escaped the deathly turmoil that comes with being a Scout, an Eldian, a girl on the run. You had finally found a sense of freedom. You turn as Levi meets your gaze, he brushes the hair from your face and scours it as he always did, with an unmatched gentleness, an unmatched fondness that no one else would ever be let see. Your world had been harsh on you for the first few decades of your life, but as you saw the raven-haired man in front of you alive, with love that reflected the love in your heart, you knew you would go through it all again. Just as long as it came back to this moment. Just as long as he was with you in every lifetime. 

He leant forward, holding your form gently as you did the same. His lips were scarred but still so warm and welcoming. You felt yourself lose yourself in the moment of serenity...

In the moment of utter peace. 

_____

A/N: Only one more chapter to go guys!! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you've liked it <3

[Chapter Thirty-Five] <--> [Chapter Thirty-Seven]

Tags: @batboygirlie @crmnic @levisbrat25

[random-movie-ideas]

My Own DC Universe, Phase One

Here is the Phase One for a DC Universe I would make if I was in charge of running one, made up of seven movies culminating in a Justice League movie at the end.

Wonder Woman - While in pursuit of terrorist Paula von Gunther, U.S. marine Steve Trevor washes up on the lost island of Themyscira, meeting and befriending Diana, princess of the Amazons living there. Meanwhile, von Gunther also finds her way to the island, and attempts to seize control of the island using a dangerous biological weapon.

Main cast: Princess Diana/Wonder Woman, Steve Trevor, Baroness Paula von Gunther, Queen Hippolyta, Barbara Ann Minerva and Etta Candy (two marines under Steve's command who also survived the crash), Donna Troy (Diana's little sister), and Dr. Isobel Maru/Doctor Poison (a conspirator with von Gunther)

Green Arrow - Vigilante Oliver Queen finds himself captured by the government and forced to join Task Force X, a special team of criminals and outlaws tasked with infiltrating the enemy nation of Vlatava and taking out Count Vertigo, a Vlatavan noble plotting a chemical attack on the United States.

Main cast: Oliver Queen/Green Arrow, fellow Suicide Squad members Dinah Lance/Black Canary, Roy Harper/Speedy, Slade Wilson/Deathstroke, Floyd Lawton/Deadshot, Carrie Cutter/Cupid, and William Tockman/Clock King, Amanda Waller (the government agent overseeing the team), and Werner Zytle/Count Vertigo)

Martian Manhunter - A Martian warrior finds himself stranded on Earth after falling through a portal, only for the portal's inventor to die of a heart attack before he can return. Hunted by the United States government, the Martian joins forces with a former marine named John Stewart in order to find a way back home.

Main cast: J'onn J'onzz/Martian Manhunter, John Stewart, Cameron Chase (head of the DEO taskforce pursuing J'onn), and Dr. Saul Erdel.

Green Lantern - While in battle with a dangerous new enemy wielding a Red Lantern ring, Green Lantern Abin Sur crashlands on Earth, passing on his ring to fighter pilot Hal Jordan. Hal is then recruited by Sur's teammates to help them track down the Red Lantern before he can recruit more followers.

Main cast: Hal Jordan/Green Lantern, Thaal Sinestro (Hal's new commanding officer with a secret), Atrocitus (the Red Lantern), Kilowog, Arisia Rrab, Salaak, and Ch'p (the rest of Sinestro's Lantern team), Carol Ferris and Thomas Kalmaku (Hal's friends), and Abin Sur.

The Flash - While trying to stop a heist, a police scientist and his girlfriend's little brother both get caught up in an explosion that gives them super speed. The pair learn to work together in order to bring in the gang of criminals called the Rogues.

Main cast: Barry Allen/The Flash, Wally West/Kid Flash, Iris West (Barry's girlfriend and Wally's sister), Joe West, Rogues' membership: Len Snart/Captain Cold, Digger Harkness/Captain Boomerang, Sam Scudder/Mirror Master, Mick Rory/Heat Wave, James Jesse/ Trickster, Mark Mardon/Weather Wizard, and Hartley Rathaway/Pied Piper; and Ralph Dibny (a scientist at STAR Labs)

Aquaman - Sixteen years before, David Milton Hyde encountered a beautiful Atlantean. Now, he is a pirate obsessed with finding Atlantis and proving its existence. His half-Altantean son Jackson accompanies him, meeting and befriending a young Atlantean named Garth and choosing to protect the kingdom from his father.

Main cast: Jackson Hyde, David Milton Hyde/Black Manta, Garth/Aqualad, Arthur Curry/Aquaman and Queen Mera (the rulers of Atlantis), and Cal Durham (a member of David's crew that Jackson is close to)

Justice League - After the portal between Earth and Mars creates an escape route from a dimension known as the Phantom Zone, an army of superpowered aliens called Kryptonians arrive on Earth and begin to conquer it as the "New Krypton." Billionaire Bruce Wayne brings together Princess Diana of Themyscira, Hal Jordan, Barry Allen, Arthur Curry, and J'onn J'onzz to help defend against them. As he researches the Kryptonians, he learns of a crash near Smallville, Kansas, twenty-five years before, leading him to discover a Kryptonian hiding out on Earth as a reporter.

Main cast: Bruce Wayne/Batman, Princess Diana/Wonder Woman, Hal Jordan/Green Lantern, Barry Allen/The Flash, Arthur Curry/Aquaman, J'onn J'onzz/Martian Manhunter, and Clark Kent/Superman (the team), Oliver Queen/Green Arrow, John Stewart (Also fought in the battles, Oliver turned down Bruce's invite), Kryptonians: General Zod, Faora, Ursa, Non, and Jax-Ur; Lois Lane, Jonathan Kent, and Martha Kent (secret-keepers for Clark), Amanda Waller, Iris West, others cameoing from previous movies.

And there we go. What do you think? I tried to work in a lot of standard major DC characters and give them all good origins from directions different from how we've seen them before. I also worked in Superman and Batman without giving them movies so that the others could have a chance to shine.