#I never would have survived the Cold War I would’ve had a breakdown on the daily

[whiskerknittles]

My environment: *changes slightly in a way that doesn’t necessarily indicate something bad happened but is a bit Odd*

My brain: The Apocalypse Is Upon Us

[ashes-and-ashes]

ok could you write a canon divergence fic where james and lily beat voldemort/ survive (idk maybe prongs stabbed him with his antlers idk) and their happy and safe. (It’s like set straight after the first war assuming Voldemort like died) but then we see the breakdown of wolfstar cause siruis was the one who thought Remus was the spy? And like even if it was wartime and everyone was “paranoid” it doesn’t excuse the fact that the one thing would’ve killed remus inside (his friends not trusting him cause he was a “dark creature”) was the reason the love of his life didnt trust him. essentially sad wolfstar hours :(

They meet in the hospital, in a darkly-paneled corridor at the corner of the emergency ward. Flickering ward lights hover just above Sirius’ head, strangely elongated shadows stretching out across the floor.

He’s exhausted. He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing for - an hour? Two hours? They hadn’t let him in yet - they were still running tests on James and Lily, testing for curses and jinxes and god knew what else the death of a Dark Lord could do to somebody.

He knows it was a scene he’d forever see in his nightmares, mixed with Walburga and wars and the unseeing eyes of his brother. A blown-out house; shattered windows, broken doors, dust sifted with ashes on the ground. Blood splattered on the walls in an almost elegant arc. The single, reedy cry of Harry, bundled in Lily’s arms as she protected him with her body, shrapnel embedded under her skin. James on his back, head tipped back against the stairs, neck a hollow arc pointing up at the sky.

Sirius paces back and forth now; his mouth tastes of blood and ash. He’s bitten through his lip again, into sores that hadn’t yet healed and it stings as he runs his tongue over the raw flesh. The clock ticks mockingly next to him, each second an hour, each minute a lifetime.

He’s never been to a hospital, not alone like this. There’s always been someone with him; James or Lily or even -

“Sirius?”

Sirius has gotten used to the feeling of guilt - ice seeping through his stomach, the bitter taste of bile. He feels himself tense; muscle locking, spine going rigidly straight, heart pounding in his ribcage as he closes his eyes. “Remus.”

They don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. The argument still hangs in the air between them, ghosts of people they’d used to be.

Nothing prepares him for the raw panic in Remus’ voice, the fear as he noticed the blood on Sirius’ arms, on his face, the dirt and the ash and the streaks of grey. “Are you - “

“Not mine,” Sirius chokes out, chokes on pain and love and 15 years of memories wrapped up in scars. “I’m fine.”

“James - Lily - fuck, Harry - “

“I don’t know,” He runs a shaking hand over his face, trembling hard enough that he actually has to lean against the wall to stop himself from falling over. “Harry’s - he’s okay, he was crying when I found him, I think, and Lily’s back is shredded but James - he was breathing but we don’t know what happened, only that he killed - he might have killed - “

“Where are they.”

Sirius shakes his head. His throat aches, and when he lowers his hands he sees blood smeared across his palms. “We’re not allowed to see them. They’ve been in for hours at least.”

Silence. Sirius can feel Remus - he’s always been hyper aware when it came to him, catalogued the way the air seemed to shift whenever Remus was nearby. He knows that if he turns around Remus will be watching him; amber eyes, silver scars, steady enough to cut through the webs of fear that Sirius had spun around himself.

“No one told me,” Remus begins softly, and in someway it hurts more. In someway Sirius had always knew that they’d end like this - a flame dying out, something beautiful until it stopped. “Did you know that? No one told me what hospital I needed to go to, or how severe their injuries were. Hell, no one even told me that James and Lily were hurt in the first place. I only found out after Kingsley sent me an owl.”

The blows land. Sirius almost welcomes it, welcomes the stabbing pain that shoots through him, the twisted blade of guilt that Remus’ words caused.

“What was it?” Remus breathes and they’ve had this conversation so many times before. At the gates to werewolf camps and in the rain, in their shared apartment and pressed up against the wall, fingers bruising skin and cutting into flesh. “What made you think I was the spy? Was it the fact that I was gone? That I was already spying? Did you just not believe me anymore?”

“Remus - “

“Or was it because I was a werewolf? Because the whole Order distrusted me - hell, even Dumbledore distrusted me. Was it because of that?”

“What would you have done?” Sirius says - his voice is hoarse. “I was trying to keep them safe.”

“I kept them safe,” Remus says in an awful, hollow voice. “I kept them safe and I didn’t fuck over my - my - “

Boyfriend, Sirius thinks. Boyfriend and lover and partner and soulmate and best friend and -

“I can’t apologize,” he finally gets out. He’s exhausted - everything suddenly seems so cold, his entire body shaking. “I thought you were the spy. I thought a lot of things. I was wrong. But I can’t apologize for trying to protect them.”

“You thought wrong.”

“And I’m - I’m sorry. For that.” Sirius closes his eyes - he sees the hollow skeleton of the house and wants to cry. “We promised. Anything to protect Harry. That we’d sacrifice each other to do so. Remember that? A year ago?”

“I remember,” Remus says softly. “But I also remember you telling me that you’d let the world burn before pushing me away.”

Sirius cards his hands through his hair, fingers burning from the hundreds of tiny cuts on his palms. His arms and wrists are destroyed from digging through broken glass, splinters from fallen wood beams dark lines against his skin. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Remus agrees. “It’s not.”

It sounds like a secret. It sounds like a goodbye.

“Don’t cry,” Remus says, and god Sirius remembers all the times they used to say that to each other, the desperate plea to keep your head up, keep going, stay strong. No matter what, we have each other.

“Would it hurt more to tell you that I love you?” he whispers, and even that burns coming out.

Remus pauses - the ward lights form a halo around his head and for a moment Sirius thinks he can remember the boys they used to be, the boys who loved whole heartedly, the boys who thought they were forever.

“Yes,” Remus says, and he smiles, heartbreakingly beautiful. “But it hurts even more to know that I loved you too.”

[shi-daisy]

Mutual Enduring

Hello everyone! Today on the wavewave agenda we have a whump two-shot! With a side of humanformers (they're still from cybetron and age like in canon but they look and act human) Slightly warning for mentions of torture and some sexy stuff.

Continuity: Fan continuity (mostly a mix of IDW 1 and TFP)

@wavewave-week

Wavewave Week- Day 4- Power/Affection

He hated the feeling of cold metal against his skin, the needles, the darkness, the restraints that caused his arms and legs to go numb, but most of all he hated remembering.

The memories of the night the empurata was performed on him were memories he purpusely supressed, the only thing m he couldn't be rid off was the pain, at least not without medication.

Both he and Breakdown had been captured by MECH, neither could manage to escape or free themselves. It was an illogical outcome, that humans had gotten the best of two Cybertronians, but alas his current predicament was proof that it was possible.

He didn't know where Breakdown was, or if he was still alive, but if he managed to escape he'd look for him. He owed the man that much after he took a hit for him.

"Shockwave!" A female voice called out. He heard an alarm sound along with footsteps and gunfire. Just what was happening outside his room.

His was fading in and out of consciousness, but he could see the wall falling apart. Some people had taken down the door.

The voice from before called him again, it was louder and more distinct, as he could now recognize.

"Monochrome?" He muttered. His throat was raspy from dehydration and he couldn't speak properly.

"Yes it's me. Don't worry we're here to get you out."

"Breakdown, is he...?"

"He's safe, he's the one who told us you were still here and alive." he recognized Knockout's distinct voice as the medic began undoing his restraints. He didn't sound too chirpy however. "Just what did they do to you?!"

He couldn't answer, but deduced the man was asking about the peeled skin of his arms, or the scars on his chest. Even if the room was more illuminated now, he still couldn't properly discern the silouttes of his comrades.

"We'll carry you out. Just hold on until we get to the Nemesis. Please Shockwave! Please try to hold on!"

He could feel her tears falling on him. Why? Why would she cry for him? Why would anyone cry for him? They both carried him away from the building, setting the place ablaze as they escaped.

Outside it was nighttime, the stars looked so tiny from here, or maybe that was his vision failing him again.

There were more voices in the distance, getting closer. Obsidian, Strika, even Breakdown was there although he sounded much different. There was one voice however he was not expecting, at least not in such a desperate manner.

Soundwave's melodic voice was so strained, he was asking a myriad of questions in rapid fire to both Knockout and Monochrome. The medics had to calm him down as everyone finally headed towards the arriving Nemesis.

Shockwave's conciousness was slipping, the last thing her remembered was holding onto Soundwave's hand as he was weekend away to the medbay.

***

Soundwave has never felt as powerless as he did at this moment. Well, except perhaps for the time he found Shockwave after his empurata.

Both tragedies had been similar. The man he loved was covered in blood and in desperate need of care. The first tragedy he'd survived, but forgotten who he was before it, what he had before being turned into an emotionless man who simply cared for logic. The second was still unfolding, and all Soundwave could do was pray that he survived. Even if he changed once more, even if that small spark of remembrance was gone.

"Why is it taking so long?!" He asked, throwing the glass he was holding to the wall, where it shattered to bits.

Rumble and Frenzy both looked surprised but didn't question it, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw had fallen asleep, while Ravage and Megatron had just arrived at the scene.

"Soundwave stop!"

He froze upon hearing Megatron yell. The tall man also looked to be worried, but no one could tell for certain.

"I'm concerned for Shockwave's health as well but stressing like this won't help anyone. He's receiving medical attention, all that's left to do now is to wait.

When he's well, he'll need support, especially yours. You must be in good health as well."

He nodded, still nervous and mad. His superior must've noticed as he pulled him into a hug. While they were close he knew Megatron was not the type to be affectionate in public. He returned the hug, holding back the tears and simply letting himself go.

It too a while for the two to separate. Ravege then took over comfort duties and purred as he nuzzled his friend. Soundwave picked him up and pet him as he waited outside the medbay. After what seemed like an eternity, Monochrome came out of the room, her scrubs were covered in blood but she was smiling.

"He's okay. His organs were fine and all we had to do was place some skin grafts and rehydration serum. You may see him now if you like, he'll be up soon." The dark skinned woman yawned. "I however will be going to bed."

"Go, I'll join you soon enough." Megatron told her.

She nodded and left. His superior turned to look at him. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, it's fine. Go with your wife, I'm sure she's tired after all of this, and so are you. Thank you sir, and please thank Monochrome on my behalf too.

Megatron nodded before leaving. Rumble and Frenzy took care of the pets before he headed inside, hoping Shockwave wouldn't forget even more.

***

The two people he first saw were Knockout and Breakdown. The medic was changing his gloves and coat while Breakdown spoke to him from his bed. His tanned skin was covered in bandages, and he wore an eyepatch. He soon noticed that Shockwave was awake.

"Shockwave! You're awake!" Breakdown beamed. "I'm glad you're okay. It seems like we'll be matching now." He joked as he pointed to his eyepatch.

How? How could he endure such torture and still be smiling like that? It was one of the many questions his research wouldn't answer.

"It's satisfactory to know you were rescued and alive. Thank you for your concern Breakdown."

"Anytime."

Knockout walked over to his side. "May I give you a quick check up now that you're awake? I have to know if you have any lingering pain."

He would've laughed but he didn't have the energy to be sarcastic at the moment, he simply nodded and let the medic examine him.

Someone else came into the room, it was Soundwave. His blue hair was a mess and his eyes looked as if he'd been crying. Neither Breakdown nor Knockout seemed surprised.

"Medically you're fine. Don't take off these bandages in at least two days, they're waterproof and soft so they'll allowed you to sleep and bathe, if you don't have anything else you need me to look at you should be good to go."

Shockwave nodded and tried to stand, but he would've fallen down face first had Soundwave not picked him up. "I'll carry you."

He didn't protest as the other man carried him away or when they arrived at Soundwave's room instead of his lab.

"I volunteered to care for you. Tomorrow you can go to the lab, but tonight you should rest. I'll ready a bath for you and make you food."

He stayed silent and seated on Soundwave's bed as the blue haired man ran around the room. He put his sons and pets to bed and was now serving him dinner.

Why was he always so caring? The two of them knew eachother for milenia, Soundwave was the only person he remembered after the shadowplay and empurata experiments performed on him, yet no matter how hard he tried to remember he couldn't recall anything else. Were they once close? He couldn't say, but that seemed like the most likely hypothesis.

"Food's ready."

"Soundwave."

"Yes? Is anything wrong? Do you want something else? Maybe you'd rather take the bath first, sorry I can reheat the soup after, no worries."

"No no! I'm fine. I just ...I must ask you a question."

"Yes?"

"Why do you care so much for me? Our fields of work are vastly different, as are our social circles and our personalities yet you constantly look out for me...You're also the only person I can remember from my old life. Why is that? Can you give me an answer?"

"I can, but not now. We can talk before we sleep. I promise."

He decided to trust his comrade. After eating and taking a bath he was ready to speak with Soundwave. He sat beside him on the bed waiting for him to speak.

Soundwave was trembling, as if he was terrified of speaking. Shockwave was not good at dealing with emotional people but somehow he knew what to do.

His hands fell upon Soundwave's fair face, their red gaze was full of tears but he didn't look away. Soundwave placed his hand over his tenderly.

It seemed he was finally ready to answer him.

***

"I love you. I've loved you for centuries. Before the war happened and you were tortured, we were sparkmates... Then you were taken from me, and I thought I'd spend my life pinning for that version of you, but I didn't, because I love you still. Even if you don't remember, even if you're more alligned with logic than emotion, even if you don't love me back. I still love you Shockwave."

It wasn't in his nature to be surprised, but he would've never expected this answer.

It made sense, he'd seen how the couples of the Nemesis acted, or even human pairs. The fact that despite their distance Soundwave was so caring towards him, or that he'd be the only one his mind refused to forget. Even now, he seemed to know what the other wanted without voicing it.

Soundwave thought he'd faint when he felt Shockwave's lips over his. He'd always been a greedy kisser, even in their youth. He'd sometimes surprise Soundwave with a deep kiss before parting ways, other times he'd simply seduced him with his soft voice and clever hands.

After letting go they both took a moment to intensely memorize the other's face. Shockeave hadn't changed much save for his missing eye, which was now made of glass, and the scars upon his neck and arms that hadn't faded in centuries. Soundwave looked almost the same, but his built was stronger and he was now as tall as Shockwave.

"You taste as good as I remembered." He whispered. "I've missed you."

"Soundwave, are you certain I'm what you desire? There are other cons who'd give you the affection you crave, the affection you deserve. I don't know if I'll ever be the man you first fell in love with."

"Shockwave, I'm certain that you're the only one I want. Whether you're a kind senator or a serious scientist or a combination of both. I love every aspect of you."

That was all the confirmation he needed. He kissed Soundwave again, this time the blue haired man seemed to melt into the gesture, giving all control to him. Shockwave smirked as he gently bit Soundwave's bottom lip.

"Mmh! Seems like you haven't forgotten that."

"I've bitten you before?"

"Many times. You've left lots of marks. Not that I'm complaining."

Soundwave gently placed Shockwave upon the pillows. "And while I love your bites, I think I'd prefer spoiling you with kisses."

He let Soundwave do as he pleased. As promised the spymaster kissed his lips, cheeks, neck and even his chest. After three days of torture, this was exactly what he'd needed.

"Soundwave, let me kiss you too."

His heart raced when Shockeave pulled him into a kiss. Soundwave felt the scientist hands tangled in his hair, he kissed every inch he could get his lips on, and wouldn't let go until they were both breathless.

Sleep was taking over for them both. Soundwave pulled Shockwave close, careful not to worsen his injuries. "Are you comfortable?"

"Very much so."

"Good."

"I could tell you craved this. Your desperate touch, it breaks my heart."

"You don't need to worry about that, Shockwave. I'm fine now that you're with me.

I'll take care of you. And once you're better we'll hunt down the humans who hurt you and Breakdown. I promise."

"That's comforting to hear. But all I desire now is to sleep by your side. I intend to give you more affection tomorrow."

Soundwave smiled. "I'd like that. Goodnight dear."

"Goodnight."

Shockwave was not used to sleeping, much less with another person by his side, but the beating of Soundwave's heart and the feel of his arms around him was enough to grant him the most peaceful sleep he had in centuries.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Non-Sequential [Ch. 28]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,300

Chapter 27

The Battle of Wakanda was simultaneously the shortest and longest day of Steve Rogers’ life.

The dog-like aliens were released in too many droves, making Steve believe they would never stop attacking. Even if Shuri was successful in detaching the stone from Vision, would destroying it even stop these monsters? But Steve didn’t have time to think about that.

Thor’s arrival felt like a blink to Steve. He didn’t have time to process the return of his long-lost friend. The two of them were too busy trying to survive. But Steve somehow seemed to sense the personal ties Thor had in this war.

Steve started to come to on the forest floor. His body quick to recover from being knocked unconscious by Thanos. But it wasn’t fast enough.

He slowly got to his feet and looked up to find Thor pressing his axe into Thanos’ chest. But for some reason, Steve knew it was too soon to celebrate a victory. Something felt off.  

“Nooo!” Thor bellowed just before Thanos snapped his fingers.

A flash blinded Steve as he tried to move forward.

When he regained his vision, Thanos fell backwards into a portal and disappeared.

Steve clutched his side as he made his way to Thor. “Where’d he go?”

Thor said nothing, just remained in a daze and breathed heavily.

“Thor?” Steve begged. “Where’d he go?”

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice begged for his attention.

But when Steve looked over, Bucky’s body was already disappearing, turning into ash.

With utter shock, Steve slinked to the pile of ash that once was his best friend.

Him and Thor shared a look, finally understanding what was happening.

Everyone regrouped. Well… not everyone.

Steve went to Visions body, colorless and lifeless. The stone was missing from his forehead, proving what they were already figuring out.

“What is this?” Rhodey asked. “What the hell is happening?”

Steve breathed deeply as it all finally made sense. “Oh, God.”

Then her face flashed in his mind.

“Y/N,” he gasped and jumped to his feet.

“Steve…” Nat called after him, but there was no life in her voice. She just sounded scared.

All the injuries he had meant nothing to him now as he sprinted back to the palace at super-soldier speed. It didn’t matter how much his body hurt and protested. All that mattered was getting to her.

He ignored the panicked looks and the various piles of ash that were scattered across the palace hallways.

He shoved his shoulder against the doors of the wing that protected the royal family and Y/N.

When he entered, the Queen Mother whipped around with tears in her eyes.

Steve’s eyes raced around the room, looking for her. “Y/N!” He yelled.

But when he did not find her or receive an answer, his gaze returned to Ramonda.

She simply shook her head.

“No,” Steve whispered as he shook his head. “No.”

“She’s gone,” Ramonda gasped. “Shuri and her...a-and the rest of them.”

First his best friend and now the love of his life.

Tears filled his eyes.

He left, needing to go to her room. Despite the Queen Mother’s words, Steve’s heart wouldn’t believe her. She couldn’t be gone. It could not be true.

But what he found was an empty bedroom. Clean and barren.

It took a second glance around the room to see the envelope that lay waiting on her nightstand.

Steve didn’t know how it caught his eye when he was having a breakdown.

He saw his name written on it – just Steve. But it was Y/N’s handwriting.

His hand shook as he reached out to pick it up.

He already knew what he was going to find waiting for him inside the envelope.

Y/N knew this was coming. She had seen it. Kept the secret hidden as her own burden to bare. Letting everyone else live in blissful ignorance.

Steve,

By the time you find this, I’m sure you will have figured out what has happened. Thanos was successful. And with his success I have been taken from you.

You have also already realized that I knew this was going to happen. I’ve known for…Well, it doesn’t matter how long I’ve known.

I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. I knew it would destroy you, and maybe it would’ve destroyed us. Is it selfish that I just wanted our time together to be spent without the dread of the future looming over our heads?

I know this is not the goodbye you want or need. But this is all we could have.

Steve, I love you. I love you more than I could ever put into words. You know they aren’t my strong suit. But I hope I made you feel that love.

I know you, Steve. I know you will be OK. You were always stronger than me. You can survive missing me, but I would’ve never survived missing you.

I love you, Steve.

Please don’t forget me.

Steve turned the page over, expecting to find more written. 

But that was it.

He wanted more. He needed it. It was a goodbye, but why did he feel like something was missing or that something was off?

The next couple of days were a blur. He hid his feelings. The team needed him. They didn’t need a broken Steve Rogers; they needed Captain America. He wasn’t the only person that lost someone. They all had.

The team decided to return to the compound in New York, regroup and make a plan. Then they discovered Fury’s pager and Carol Danvers explained her relation to it, and Steve allowed himself to feel hope.

But their attack ended in disappointment.

Steve knew in hindsight that it made sense: Y/N wouldn’t have written him a letter saying goodbye if they could bring the world back in a few days.

The solution wasn’t that easy… if there even was a solution.

Now Steve sat on the dock on the lake. The compound’s lights weren’t lit like before – well, everything – making it easier to actually see the stars.

He heard her walking up behind him. But he wasn’t really in the mood for talking. Maybe if he pretended she wasn’t there, she wouldn’t try to engage.

But she’s not one to back down like that.

Nat sat down next to him on the dock, dipping her barefoot into the lake.

“I think I’m going to…get out of here. Thinking about Brooklyn.” Steve spoke first.

“Steve…” She started.

“I can’t stay here, Nat. Everything reminds me of her. The grass on that lawn? Every time I look at it, I think of the night she met me. When I walk into that kitchen, I’m still convinced she’s going to be standing in there waiting for me with a mug of coffee in her hands.”

“So, that’s it? The Avengers are no more?” She challenged.

“We lost, Nat.”

“It was just lost one war, Steve. There will be others. There already are. Carol says–”

But Steve whipped his head to look at her. “We didn’t just lose a war,” he snapped. “I lost everything!” Then he controlled his temper. “She was everything,” he muttered as he looked back onto water.

Nat didn’t say anything more, already knowing when Steve made up his mind, there was no changing it. The only person more stubborn than him was Tony.

“Have you found him yet?” Steve asked her carefully.

She shook her head. “His house arrest bracelet was cut, which can only mean he survived. And there was a call to the compound just minutes after the snap.” Her eyes started watering. “I know he’s out there. But I think Laura and the kids…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say it.

“You shouldn’t stay here,” Steve told her as he looked back at the compound. It was empty and looked lifeless. The agents and scientists that once busied the space were either snapped or had gone back to what family and friends they had left.

Nat ignored his statement.

“Thor’s left. Bruce is acting strange. Tony has clung to Pepper. Rhodey is going back to DC. You shouldn’t be here by yourself, Nat.”

“So, where should I go? To New York City with you?” She challenged.

“Is that such a terrible idea?” He asked.

“I can’t, Steve. I can still help people. I know I can.”

He stood up. “You know…there are other ways to do that than just this.”

———————

Some Time Later…

Steve’s eyes snapped open when he heard the intruder.

His apartment had been restored to keep the character from the time period he was truly from, while being updated enough to be accepted and functional in modern society. But with it came squeaky floorboards and sometimes lack of soundproofing.

But that just meant that there was no mistaking when there was some other presence in his home.

He slipped out of bed completely silent.

Steve didn’t have his shield, but he doubt he would need it to defend himself from a thief. 

Crime had skyrocketed since the snap. Turned out that Thanos’ mission didn’t include only ridding the world of bad people. Some took advantage of the world’s vulnerable state, stealing and killing and assaulting others.

But when Steve peaked around the corner, he didn’t find a burglar.

“It’s just me,” she said gently.

Immediately recognizing the voice, Steve rushed around the corner.

Y/N was waiting for him with the blanket from the couch wrapped around her naked body.

Before she even had a chance to say his name or a hello, Steve was pulling her into his arms. The gesture wasn’t uncommon for him, but it still took her by surprise a bit.

“Hi,” she breathed into his shoulder.

He pulled back a bit, “Hi.”

His eyes and body language were now uncertain.

And Y/N knew why: he was trying to figure out what she knew and where she had come from.

“It’s after his snap?” She asked him quietly, proving that she already was aware and he didn’t have to be careful about what he said to her.

He just nodded sadly. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

Steve’s situation was simultaneously lucky and heartbreaking. Unlike his friends that survived, he got glimpses of the person he lost. Y/N’s time traveling that once felt like a curse was now a gift to Steve.

He got to hold her, to be reminded of how her skin felt and what she smelled like and how warm or cold her body felt against his.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. She didn’t want to think about when the last time that he felt her lips.

Steve blinks suddenly. “Sorry! Let me get you some clothes.”

Before she could stop him, he rushed back into his bedroom and started shuffling through drawers, determined to find Y/N’s favorite sweatpants and t-shirt of his.

When he looked up with the clothes in his hands, Y/N was leaning against the doorway with an appreciative grin.

She thanked him as she took the clothes from him.

Steve turned his back to give her some space to change, but he couldn’t find it in him to leave the room and truly give her privacy. He was scared she would disappear at any moment and he didn’t want to miss a second of her visit.

He heard Y/N giggle behind him. It sent a chill down his spine.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, Steve. In fact, you see it quite often.”

He slowly turned to find her already dressed. He cleared his throat, “Sorry. It seems I’m not sure how to act around you anymore.”

She walked up to him and cupped his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry, Steve.”

He nodded. 

“You’re looking at me as if I’m a ghost,” she whispered to him. 

And in a way, she was. 

Her hands then went to his shoulders. He seemed to preen at her touch, so she’d give him as much of it as she possibly could.

“Can I ask you something?” He muttered.

Steve only said things like that when he was nearing a fine line, when he wanted to ask her something about her time traveling. Something that he already knew she wouldn’t want to tell him.

But Y/N nodded.

“When did you find out?”

He didn’t have to elaborate, Y/N knew what he was asking about.

“Not until I was living in Wakanda.” She kept it generic.

Steve seemed somewhat relieved by it. He couldn’t imagine Y/N keeping the secret of the apocalypse for longer that she already had. A couple years was still torture. But Steve had been imagining the worst, often thinking of a teenage Y/N learning of the end of the world, having it haunt her ever moment.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whimpered. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you.”

Y/N him to her. “Oh, Steve. Shh. There was nothing you could do.”

“I’ve lost so many innocent lives. And I used to tell myself that as long as I had you, I could bare that guilt. But once I lost you…”

Y/N shushed him again. “You’re a hero. No one has ever doubted that. But you’re still just a man, Steven Grant Rogers. And Thanos – Thanos was a titan. A titan with the most powerful weapon in the universe. None of you stood a chance.”

Steve nodded, but she knew it would take more than a few words from her to convince him of that.

“I wish you could stay,” he muttered.

She wiped away some of his tears that had escaped. “I wish I could, too.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

All the tension left him from just the feeling of her. His body hadn’t relaxed since the last time he’d properly held her in his arms – before the snap, before the Battle of Wakanda.

Nevertheless, when he opened his eyes again, Y/N was already gone. The sweatpants and t-shirt she had been wearing piled at his feet.

It was then that Steve wondered if he really was luckier than everyone. Because having to say goodbye to Y/N over and over and over again now felt like a different type of torture.

Maybe her visits were going to become his drug. In the end, they weren’t good for him. But he still craved them like his life depended on them.

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

Chapter 29

Just want to clarify that I have not “returned” from my hiatus or to this tumblr in general. 

Quite frankly this fandom has lost its fucking mind and I’m rather disgusted with the behavior I’ve seen in the past month or so. 

No wonder all of the talented writers have left.

I’m only finishing this stupid series to clear my conscious. But I regretted looking back to see that while +2,500 people follow this series’ masterlist, the past few chapters have received 300 or less notes. And that, I tell you, is one of the reasons I hate it here. 

[isoscele]

Lumberjanes Week Day 6 - Ghost Stories/Land of Lost Things

.

In Xian’s bullet journal, in purple gel pen, the four of them wrote their last will and testament. It was an incontrovertible fact, said Presley, that they were going to die here. One, it had snowed every single one of the four days they had been here, and showed no signs of stopping. Two, despite their best efforts to ration their fruit leathers and peanut-butter-banana sandwiches, they had run out of food. Three, Ana’s ankle was sprained and they were probably not going to be able to get back up on the cliff they had fallen from. Four, despite what fantasy books said, kids on hiking trips did not actually survive tripping into a desolate, war-torn alternate dimensions, no matter how much moxie and general perseverance they showed.

It was hard to argue with that. So they divvied up their belongings among parents and siblings and pets, taking turns with the pen in a kind of grim ritual.

Once they finished, they surveyed their work.

“Don’t give your rollerblades to Peter,” Ana told Xian. “He’s going to break his collarbone immediately.”

“If I have to become a ghost, I want to spend my afterlife watching Peter eat it in the Walmart parking lot,” Xian said firmly.

The sky here was a kind of burnt-rubber color. The snow kept coming down, so there must have been clouds up there somewhere, but it was difficult to distinguish them from the blank slate of horizon.

There were no plants, no animals, nothing but a long line of snow-covered earth. If you dug down to the surface, as Siobhan had, there was only scorched dirt. There was a little rubble, but not much. As far as otherworldly apocalyptic wastelands went, it was disappointingly barren. There were no helpful clues, or conveniently-placed newspapers with pictures of mushroom clouds. Even the breaks in the landscape looked harsh, a continual jag of cliffs and valleys and something that smelled like it might have been a swamp, a long time ago.

When they’d first set up camp, Siobhan had knelt down to wrap Ana’s ankle and Presley had started clearing space to make a campfire, and so Xian had gone around looking for something to help start it, trudging through the knee-deep snow with her windbreaker tied around her legs to keep herself from getting frostbite.

Mostly, she had been walking towards a massive rupture in the snow that looked like it might have been a felled tree. Probably, it would be too damp to burn, but Presley had mad survivalist skills wrapped up in her little band-geek brain, so maybe she would be able to scrape the bark off or something. Or maybe there would be something they could eat. Even then, back in the halcyon days when they still had two out of four fruit leathers left, that was a pressing concern.

As Xian approached it, though, it started to look less and less like a tree. It was curved in a weird way, and it didn’t have any branches. It took a long time for her to reach it, so by the time she reached out one hand to wipe away the snow, there was a part of her that already knew what she’d find.

It was a rib. More specifically, it was the rib of something that had ribs the size of a school bus. It was picked completely clean of meat, as pristine as a museum exhibition.

Xian had to take a step back and stare at it. It filled her whole vision, and she couldn’t get over how clean it was. Her first thought was scavengers! Her second thought was HUGE scavengers! Her third thought was no, that’s dumb. It’s just old.

Siobhan’s theory had been nuclear war. Presley agreed with her–maybe not with the method, but she thought they were in an alternate dimension that had destroyed itself somehow. Ana had suggested time travel, like they’d tripped into Earth’s first ice age.

But something bad had happened here. With that understanding came a powerful, terrible relief. Of course they were standing on a graveyard too vast and ancient for them to ever understand. Of course this was a place of tragedy. It still was, the white of the ground and the orange of the sky and the way that Presley had said we should find some kindling, as if they were ever going to find any kindling.

Xian had looked at the bone for a moment longer. She thought about how, in horror movies, the characters always tried to find some justification for what was happening to them, had some big why-me breakdown. From an audience’s perspective, though, it was easy to tell who was earmarked for catastrophe. From the moment they stepped onto the screen, they were tasked with telling a story. They were suffering because they were only ones who could tell it. It wasn’t their fault.

Xian didn’t know what that meant about them. They were teenage girls, which could make some sense within certain narratives, but they were teenage girls who were probably not going to get out of here. Girls who were plucky and inquisitive and charming and still would not be saved.

Then again, sometimes the answer to why-me was just you were there. Sometimes, it was as simple as an extinction event, coming to wipe you and everything you knew clean.

Xian turned around and started the long walk back to camp.

.

The hike had been Siobhan’s idea. School had just ended and it was Presley’s last summer before she moved away, so everything was terrifying and big and moved in slow-motion. It felt like every minute the four of them weren’t doing something amazing together was a minute wasted. Siobhan imagined growing up like a skin you shed in reverse. The more you crammed  into those early layers, the harder it was to lose them.

She’d packed the bag, which was another mark on her ledger. If she had brought a first-aid kit, if she had brought more food, if she had brought a second water bottle, things might be different. Never mind that it was only supposed to be a day trip, and her mom would’ve lost her mind if Siobhan had packed for an overnighter.

The third thing that she could never ever be absolved of was that she was the one who saw the fox.

It had streaked through the trees, a blur of formless red, but for a second it had looked at her and–and Siobhan wasn’t exaggerating, time stopped. Its eyes were golden and a million years old, and somehow she had known exactly what it was saying to her.

They’re leaving you they’re leaving you every second they are getting farther away from you and you can’t do anything to stop it and you’re the only one who wants to anyway, you’re the only one selfish enough to ask for forever.

And then time had unstuck and it had leapt back through the trees, and Siobhan had pushed past Ana and almost tripped over Xian and she hadn’t even realized that she had started running, it was more like she knelt into the air and kept going.

She hadn’t realized the others would follow her, but of course they had.

So Siobhan couldn’t sleep. She was cold, and she was hungry, and she was ashamed that during their will-writing she’d made up people to give her things to because she wanted her friends to think that she had friends other than them, that she too had cool cousins in New York and family members she could trust with the contents of her bedroom.

And she was ashamed about everything else, too, every dumb decision she had made in possibly her whole life, and then Presley said “Siobhan?” and she realized she was kind of crying into the snow.

“I’m okay,” Siobhan said, “I’m okay, I’m fine.”

Ana reached out and touched Siobhan’s elbow. Her fingers were cold, but steady, and it did make Siobhan feel better.

“I think I’m gonna go look for food,” Siobhan said. She hadn’t realized she was going to say it until she did, but it felt right. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t just lie down and try to sleep through another night that looked exactly identical to the day.

“Okay,” Xian said. She pushed herself onto her elbows and tried to brush some of the snow off her shirt. “We’ll come with you.”

This was how they got into all kinds of world-ending trouble, but Siobhan supposed there were worse things.

She didn’t think she could get any words out if she tried, so instead she reached out and helped Xian get the snow off her shoulders.

.

Ana’s ankle didn’t hurt much anymore, but Presley still stoically bore the task of giving her a piggyback ride. Ana liked this arrangement because Presley would kneel down and wait for Ana to loop her legs around her waist and then she would say, with all the seriousness of a soldier about to pull the knife from his dying comrade’s stomach, I’m going to do it, get ready, get ready, and then she would stand up.

They didn’t have a direction, and none of them were entirely sure which way they had come from, so they were just kind of walking. Most likely, they had already gotten turned around three or four times, but Ana was hoping it would eventually cancel itself out.

But then again, it probably didn’t matter whether they got anywhere new. Already, the snow had probably completely concealed their old campsite. Everywhere they stepped was a new world, fresh and footprintless. Packed with promise.

Presley and Xian were talking, but Ana was a little too tired to follow the conversation. Instead, she tried to catch Siobhan’s eye and silently communicate something deep and necessary to her. She didn’t know what that deep and necessary thing was, but she trusted Siobhan to figure it out.

They walked for a long time without finding any kind of break in the landscape. Ana let herself feel reassured by the steady rhythm of Presley’s footsteps below her, the slow thread of Xian’s voice. It almost felt like home, pacing circles around Siobhan’s trampoline or getting marched to the principal’s office for “disturbing the classroom environment.”

So of course, she was the last one to see the cave.

It looked a little like a wasps’ nest, fat and bulbous and buzzing from the inside out with a pale yellow light. Shadows stretched across the entrance, flickering in stop-motion. The cave, whatever else it meant for them, was inhabited.

Ana looked down at Xian, who tended to be the most genre-savvy of them all. But Xian wasn’t looking at the cave; she was staring into the sky with a look of abject terror on her face.

“Presley,” Ana said. “I think we should–”

Presley locked her arms around Ana’s ankles and took off running towards the cave.

Ana had to duck so they could get inside, pressing the side of her face against Presley’s crown of braids. Then, the light was everywhere, and she had to blink hard to disperse the pink clouds that spotted her vision.

“Oh my God,” Siobhan said from somewhere behind her.

Xian shuffled closer. “What is that?”

In the center of the cave, a candle had burned almost to a stub, giving off the unmistakable smell of pine. Behind it, half-submerged in the pool of light, lay some kind of abomination.

It was a wolf and yet it wasn’t, couldn’t be. It had thick white fur and a distinctly lupine body, but it had human hands, bent and weathered. An old woman’s hands.

Oh Grandmother, Ana thought, inanely. What big teeth you have.

And if it was dead, which it could very well be, it had not been dead for long.

As slow as the shifting of a tectonic plate, it lifted its head and opened one blazing eye. Ana understood with a jolt that it had known they were there the whole time, that it had been listening.

It surveyed them, looking very old and very tired. It locked eyes with Ana. Then it spoke, in a voice so gravelly and ancient that Ana had no problem believing that it had been here for as long as there had been a here to be.

“Kids come with two heads these days?”

“Yes,” Ana said automatically, because even in her mindless terror she had to indulge her favorite hobby, which was tricking old people into believing things about The Youth. “But only the ones who are on social media too much.”

Presley frowned so hard that Ana could feel it from her shoulders, like an earthquake. “That’s not true,” she said. “We’re two separate kids. Stacked on top of each other.”

Wolf Lady huffed and closed her eyes again, apparently done with the conversation.

“Hey!” Siobhan said. “Hey, ma’am, please–can you help us?”

“We fell down a portal,” Presley supplied. “We’ve been here four days, and we’re going to die here.”

Wolf Lady smiled. It was the smile of a rotting jack-o-lantern, and it showed a glint of teeth. “Not a bad place to die,” she said, almost to herself. “But most people deserve better.”

“Do you have food?” Xian had crouched down, like she was speaking to a sleepy child. “Or–or do you know how to get some?”

“No,” Wolf Lady said. “No. You don’t need to get food. You need to get out.”

Silence. Outside, the wind wailed.

“What happened here?” Xian asked. Her voice was tight, thin. “I found these–all these bones.”

“You what?” Siobhan said.

“War,” Wolf Lady said. There was something inarticulable in her voice, a kind of grief that had exhausted all other avenues and therefore had no choice but to live forever in this cave.

“They were huge bones.”

“Big war.” Wolf Lady opened her eyes again. “Maybe you’ve noticed it. Wasn’t the kind of thing you can get out of the carpet. You, two-headed one. Grab my specs.”

“Specs?” Presley said, confused, but Ana tapped her head and then pointed to one edge of the cave, where a pair of thin, cracked glasses had gathered what looked like years’ worth of dust and melted snow.

Xian was the one who picked them up, but she handed them to Ana. On some old impulse, Ana slid them over the bridge of her nose.

Immediately, the world exploded in a paroxysm of color, spreading across the four of them like an oil slick. Wolf Lady seemed to be the center of it, bleeding orange from every inch, but there was so much of it coming from everywhere that Ana had to pull them off again.

“You can use those to get home,” Wolf Lady said, in the tone that one might say you can use salt to improve this soup. “Find the portals. For the love of God, get out of here.”

Ana cradled them against her chest. Siobhan looked openly skeptical, but she hadn’t tried them on. Ana believed that the glasses could do whatever they had to. Could reach through time and bring them back to some soft, scared world where everything they needed was still in one piece.

“Are you coming with us?” Xian asked. Her voice had gone quiet again, the way it did when she already knew the answer. Like when she predicted the endings of movies, the sad, certain everyone dies.

Wolf Lady laughed. As strange and animalistic as the rest of her was, her laugh seemed very human. “A very, very long time ago, I worked at a place where the only rule was that the kids had to make it out okay. The rest of us–well, it depended on how the forest felt. But we made it a long time, on that rule. I’m not breaking it now.”

“Thank you,” Presley said. Every word out of Presley’s mouth had an incredible gravity to it even in the silliest of situations; now, Ana could hardly bear to hear it. “We’ll remember you forever.”

“Oh, don’t do that to yourselves,” Wolf Lady said. “My name is Rosie. Think of it every once in a while, and forgive yourselves for the rest.”

.

Outside, everything was degrees of white and black, the snow bracing itself against the sky. Presley’s stomach was a black hole, and the rest of her was so numb as to cave in on itself.

She took one of Siobhan’s hands and one of Xian’s. Ana reached down and squeezed her shoulder.

They began to walk, and across the end of the world, a portal blinked into being

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Hello! I was hoping to add a bit to your thoughts on Bloodraven. I agree wholeheartedly with you that Bloodraven is a terrible person and made terrible decisions. But I disagree with you that he’s rewarded for it. The novels do quite a but to frame him as an evil person. Yes he’s a magical greenseer and has a lot of magical power, but he’s also a scary tree person with roots growing in him. He lives in a dark cave he can never leave with creepy elves that have probably killed Bran’s friend. There’s also a lot of theories that Bloodraven drove Euron crazy when testing Euron for magical abilities like he tested Bran. GRRM looks to be setting him up as a dark twist to the wise mentor trope while the show treated him like Gandalf.

Hello, Anon! Bl00draven as a villain is actually a very controversial opinion/theory in tumblr fandom, (which is why I misspell his name and use his anti tag) with at least some considering him a straight-up hero trying to save the world, or an anti-hero who commits atrocities to achieve “noble goals” (including, if I remember correctly, the same person who wrote at least part of the theory that Euron is Bl00draven’s ex-student). I believe Bl00draven is “a terrible person [who] made terrible decisions”, but I’m probably in the minority, (you’d probably find a better discussion with people who think he’s a hero in your analysis of how his character is framed), but you haven’t indicated why you don’t think he’s rewarded for his actions. 

I have written about how the narrative protects Bl00draven from the consequences of his actions in the post you’re responding to, in a response to warsofasoiaf, and a response to godihatethisfreakingcat. In summary:

The two times BR suffers any setback (losing an eye; being sent to the Wall for high treason), it ends up working out for him in the end (not being affected by monocular vision at all if he held his own in a second duel against Aegor Rivers, getting a “scary” reputation and possibly greenseeing powers; having 200 of his personal guard and Prince Aemon accompany him, getting to keep the only Targaryen ancestral sword when he’s supposed to be punished, getting elected Lord Commander despite his horrible tenure as Hand, and deserting the Night’s Watch to become an immortal greenseer despite desertion being a death sentence)

When it looks like BR is going to suffer other setbacks, they magically go away (he and Baelor have a dispute over how to treat the defeated Blackfyre rebels, but Baelor dies before he can become king; he mocks Maekar in front of his own son and unsubtly threatens to kidnap Egg, but is said to have become Maekar’s Hand; his spy network fails to capture Aegor Rivers multiple times and couldn’t keep an eye on his ship as it made way for the Wall, but he isn’t punished for failing to do the one job he promised to do)

BR never had to work to gain anyone’s trust or his positions of authority, despite being terrible at his job (his mother was a friend of Da3ron II’s from birth; he was granted an ancestral Valyrian sword as a teenager despite not being the best swordsman; he gets his first Small Council position by age 20; Da3ron II trusts him enough to start a war on his say-so; Aerys makes him his Hand over his more competent brother Maekar; Maekar keeps him as Hand despite resenting him for decades; he’s made Night’s Watch Lord Commander). Maintaining so much power either undermines your claim that the narrative frames him as a villain (if he’s so untrustworthy, why do the supposed protagonists keep giving him jobs?), or it makes the characters who’ve granted him this power into idiots (at least 2 of whom are lauded as intelligent or clever).

Other villainous characters have done less harm than Bl00draven, but are punished for it while he gets to keep his power:

The infamously corrupt High Septon was torn apart by starving King’s Landing smallfolk during the bread riots of 299

The corrupt Rego Draz, who levied high taxes and tolls on the smallfolk (abuse of the smallfolk amidst a humanitarian crisis? sounds familiar), was stoned to death by a starving mob during the harsh winter and plague of 59

Rhaenyra was believed to have murdered Helaena Targaryen, and her husband did arrange for the murder of Helaena’s son (a parent and two young sons murdered in cold blood? sounds familiar). Thousands of smallfolk rioted out of desire for justice for the three, which caused the death of 5 dragons, Rhaenyra’s remaining son Joffrey, and Rhaenyra’s own flight from the capital. She never regained the throne again

Mysaria of Lys, explicitly compared to Bl00draven as Mistress of Whispers, also arranged for the murder of Helaena’s son Jaehaerys, informed on Nettles to Rhaenyra resulting in a warrant for her death (informing on someone to a monarch baseless rumors resulting in a warrant for their arrest? sounds familiar), and may have contributed to Helaena’s suicide that the riots were about. When King’s Landing fell, she was stripped naked and whipped to death as she was forced to walk out of the city.

Tyanna of Pentos, similarly mistress of whispers like Mysaria, tortured the king’s nephew to death (after having him imprisoned? sounds familiar), tortured dozens of men and women including rumored lover Alys Harroway, kidnapped children to ensure their mother’s good behavior while being repeatedly raped, and allegedly poisoned her fellow queens in order to be Maegor’s true wife. She was brutally murdered by the man she sought to influence, her heart thrown to the dogs

Bl00draven deliberately shot 2 unarmed 12-year-olds in front of their father to win a war, ordered the smallfolk back to their lands during the midst of a drought and after the Great Spring Sickness, caused the death of a young man under suspicious circumstances, threatened to keep the son of his rival a hostage, killed a man he promised safe passage to, denied critical aid to the crown’s vassals during ironborn raids, and created a reign of fear and paranoia that resulted in the deaths of innocent smallfolk. Bafflingly, while there are apparently riots and violence and rebellion, he makes routine trips into Flea Bottom to keep the people in line (yes, the smallfolk in King’s Landing are so complacent to authoritarian rulers as I just mentioned) and survives all of them (relatively) unscathed. Not only does he keep his position as Hand, or gained a new position as Lord Commander, but he lives to a ripe old age before running away to the cave to be an immortal greenseer with infinite knowledge. My point in comparing the actions and consequences of characters similar to Bl00draven is that if the smallfolk or the Targaryens were written consistently, he would’ve been horribly murdered for corruption or insubordination long before he ever met Bran. I understand he would have to live into canon era to be Bran’s mentor; but GRRM broke the rules of his own universe by letting Bl00draven get away with too much to be believable while giving him even more power. It is inconsistent writing that makes his survival due to authorial fiat than any skill or allies. That’s why I consider him possibly the worst-written character in the series.

Bl00draven has not committed enough good deeds to be a hero (in my opinion; other people consider keeping Da3ron’s progeny on the throne for a few generations longer to be heroic). But neither has he suffered for the consequences of his actions like a villain. We know that the Freys and Boltons will face comeuppance for their atrocities in the Red Wedding and at Winterfell because it’s already clear they have sown the seeds of their own destruction; the Freys’ violation of guest right contributed to the breakdown of the rule of law that made honorable parley impossible, and their murder of Catelyn Stark led to Lady Stoneheart in the Riverlands killing Freys with the Brotherhood, and their murder of Wendel Manderly led to his father Wyman orchestrating some of their deaths; the Boltons’ role in the Red Wedding led to nearly universal hatred among the northern lords, and caused the mountain clans to ally with Stannis to get them out, and Ramsay’s rape of who they think is Arya Stark just gives them further cause to resent their traitorous overlords. I don’t have to explain how Tywin’s cult of Lannister supremacy doesn’t survive his death as he’s offed in the most humiliating manner by the son he despised, since Jaime, Cersei, and Tyrion are either imprisoned, enslaved, or in a trial for their life by book 5. Contrast Bl00draven, because the family he most wronged (the Blackfyres) are either no longer around or are uninterested in seeing him brought to justice; he certainly sowed the seeds of destruction, but he never reaped them himself (if anything, he got more powerful); instead the Targaryens did. I don’t see how he will be getting any personal comeuppance in the future, unless he is somehow unplugged from the weirwood network and executed as a deserter to the Night’s Watch (the Starks do have a pattern of executing those guys, so maybe it will be Bran’s turn). Until then, I don’t foresee him being a good asoiaf villain either.

[strawberrymarshmallowstories]

Gift of Darkness

Title: Gift from Darkness

Pairing: Taehyung/OC

Word Count: kind of 2.7k

Rating: SFW guys, it’s all safe!

Summary:

And you knew his shadow was close. You knew of his struggles, how he was always stuck in between of two extremes, each choice bringing him back to the beginning. It was always the same, feeling closer but then further away.

You walked around to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, his whole body cold as ice. He didn't respond.

  BTS Oneshot Collection: Gods & Goddesses AU

It had been a while since you had last seen Taehyung. Even though you told yourself you didn't care much, you had become used to him hanging around, being at your hand's reach. He always came and went as he pleased, sometimes missing for weeks and a glance at the calendar showed that he had been gone for three months now.  

 Even the next sip of coffee was ruined as it tasted more bitter than a second ago.

 You understood that it was just the way his family was - all full of powerful gods with offensive powers and he was no different. As your own ancestors line promoted peace, you didn't even wish to understand the need for violence, didn't understand why this showcase of power was so important to Ancients.

 You made your way downstairs in silence, letting the soft carpet caress your feet until it was exchanged for cold tiles that made shivers run down your back. Luckily enough your fluffy slippers were there to save your day from the damp grey pressing itself in through the glass. It was still quite early in the morning but for some reason you hadn't been able to sleep. You had opted for a nice cup of coffee instead while you got some work done.

 You opened your fridge and for a second you froze in surprise. At first glance you could've sworn that you had a big chunk of glass in your refrigerator. A couple of seconds later you draw in a quick breath.

 'Why is there a changeling egg in my fridge?' You shouted but in spite of sharp words there was a smile playing on your lips.

 Hearing a tiny rustle from the living room behind you, you shuffled over and then you felt it, felt him. And there he was, lying on the couch with your small blanket pulled loosely around him as a cover, his blue jeans peeking out from underneath.

 His eyes remained closed as he murmured something about a present and something else about pancakes.

 'That is disgusting Taehyung,' you said with a grimace as you sat down in front of the sofa, familiar feeling settling in your stomach while his words made your skin prickle in joy. 'What have you been up to anyway?'

 'I've been hanging out with Hoseok, did some introductions but it didn't go well.'

 'And I thought I was bad.'

 'You are,' he said without hesitation and you resisted from giving him a slight punch of appreciation where your eyes had been fixed on a second ago. This would've been a sign of emotion you were not supposed to show. There would always be a part of you that could never be shown.

 Not if you wanted to be taken seriously in this world.

 He sat up slowly and you were surprised by what you saw. Taehyung, who always seemed well put together and at ease, looked drained and weak. His every move took a second longer - as if it took too much effort, like his every muscle had become heavier, had given in to gravity. His eyes that had held a blank gaze finally seemed to understand his surroundings and it was only then when you recognised the familiar glint in his dark eyes.

 'How come I didn't notice you?' You asked instead, nothing but cool interest in your eyes and in your tone, ignoring the mess inside, ignoring everything else even though you would've wanted to pet him, to caress him.

 'It's a secret,' he said and added with a small smile, 'and I'm also responsible for keeping your bed clear.'

 'Like that's any of your business. Look at yourself, barging in uninvited.'

 His eyebrow rose in question and you could see he was about to say something. He was just about to, when a shadow passed over his eyes and his eyes focused on an empty space somewhere in the air between you.

 And you knew his shadow was close. You knew of his struggles, how he was always stuck in between of two extremes, each choice bringing him back to the beginning. It was always the same, feeling closer but then further away.

 You walked around to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, his whole body cold as ice. He didn't respond.

 'It's alright Taehyung,' you whispered, your voice silky smooth, trying to lure him out from where he was trapped. He had created too many cages for himself and had carried too many along over the centuries. You had always found it funny how humans thought that an eternal life was a bliss, when it was also full of unimaginable pain.

 That was the reason for these healing sessions with him. He had sought you out and even though at first you had thought he was mocking you - a man from an Ancients troupe coming to find you - you soon realised that this ran deeper than that. You soon found out how he had been trained, how every warrior had been trained, and you were appalled of what you learned.

 'Think about how I'm going to feed you that changeling egg and where you're going to be stuck in for the whole afternoon.'

 You saw a small smile ghost over his lips and he shook his head. 'You can't do that, you have no power over me.'

 'You sure about that?' You said and released a tiny bit of energy, enough to challenge him - to show him that you were no weakling that he sometimes seemed to forget. Even though your expertise lied somewhere else, by no means were you weak. It was enough to gain his attention.

 Your eyes locked in shared understanding and the edges of his lips formed into a smirk. You both knew that your threat was empty, but he seemed to like brushing up against your energy field and you didn't deny him of this little joy.

 'Things are getting worse,' his voice was low and a little rough. 'Earth's balance is interrupted,' he started, his dark eyes solemn. 'I have no care for humans but this war does not belong there.'

 You didn't say anything, only waited for him to continue. You did motion for him to place his hands in yours, which he did without hesitation as a sign of trust, and you started your work. He always reached out to you in this state - on the verge of a breakdown but his strict training had ensured he would always keep it together, always just on the borderline but never crossing it.

 'Sometimes I think it would be easier to just kill them all.'

 'What did they ask you to do?' You asked, all while working on healing his auric field and secretly reaching for the wounds deep inside his heart. With each session you got in further but you could still feel resistance.

 'To put a fire on one of my dear friends' villages. And the worst is, it was her father who ordered me to do so.'

 Your whole body froze and he must've felt it, 'So is she dead?'

 'No,' he paused for a long minute, 'I masked regular fire and sent in a couple of creatures. That was the weakest I could get away with.'

 You released a breath you hadn't noticed you had been holding and looked up at him. Jagged bits of dark hair fell onto his eyes but that didn't do much to hide his pain. He didn't have many friends due to what he was, and the couple he had he treasured highly. You couldn't even begin to fathom what this must've done to him.

 'I also told Hoseok,' he added dryly and you nodded. You knew he couldn't defy an order, his family made of warrior gods took pride in what they did as masters of battle arts. Taehyung had been born with the worst gift of all - he had been born from the never-ending darkness itself that he now had to fight to survive. Only his training had helped him control it.

 But that also came with a price.

 'I don't think she's ever going to forgive me.' There was so much pain and agony in these words he muttered, his tone hushed and low. His eyes were closed as if he was ashamed to look at you. He would not cry, he never did, but sometimes you wished he was capable to do so.

 Yes, Taehyung had done some incredibly awful things over the centuries. His world had only consisted of battles one after another. He hadn't known anything else but constant death that followed at his heel because that's what they had used him as - a deadly weapon ready to kill and to destroy. He had grown up within the training camps, had battled with his classmates and had taken most of their lives. These children were given to these camps to control their power, to save them from the madness and violence that came along with their great abilities.

 Sometimes it helped, sometimes it made them into uncontrollable monsters that had to be eliminated.

 When you first met him, there was a knife pressing against your throat. You could still recall the madness in his eyes as he loomed over you with a snarl. His energy had been overwhelming and all colour was drowned out by the darkness in and around him. At that point you were certain there was nothing else in his mind but his blade and your blood.

 And he almost succeeded, if you hadn't been prepared. His rage had taken over him and the only way you could save yourself was to knock him out the old fashioned way. It hadn't been easy but something in your energy had lulled him into an illusion, stealing a second where you could do what necessary.

 Ever since that day he occasionally sought you out for your help, placing his trust in you. Surprisingly enough his darkness had accepted your light, yielding to it, letting itself bask in your energy. For some reason his darkness was attracted to your light, trying to corrupt it and refusing to give up before it did so.

 'You should seriously start paying me for this.'

 'Last time you said you didn't want my money. Unless what you're really after-'

 He stilled in his spot and you saw his smile fall off his lips. You stood up immediately, closing off all your energy channels and crossed your arms in front of you. It was rare when a direct communication line was used but you took no risks of it detecting you.

 He looked apologetic but you knew there was nothing he could do.

 And it was then when you received a message as well.

 Code one eight nine. Square thirty eight has been struck. Immediate presence required.

 You looked at Taehyung and his eyes were already locked on yours.

 Square thirty eight was his old training camp.

 You nodded, letting him know that you were ready to go. There wasn't much you would need, only having to change your slippers into something more presentable. There was no doubt others would fail to understand your weakness towards pretty fluffy things.

 He extended his hand and you accepted it, only for the whole world around you to blur before you found yourself in an unfamiliar environment. You gave him a confused glance but he only replied with a shrug. His teleporting skills had improved rapidly and this confused you.

 His skills shouldn't have allowed him to teleport so fast, over a distance that usually took at least three leaps. Gods rarely got more powerful, they only learned how to pull out more and how to use it more efficiently. And this definitely did not look like just training.

 Had you misjudged his powers?

 You tucked it away for later analysis as hazy smoke gathered your attention. Everything was quiet around you but this silence didn't mean that there was no one. You saw many others rushing around, many of them with a green halo around their body, signalling that they were at work.

 'You're here!' You came face to face with an elderly lady with wise eyes. After a quick introduction she gave a brief overview of what had happened - apparently one of the children had lost control and had blown up the place. Taehyung tensed at your side while you noted the discomfort the woman was directing towards Taehyung.

 You weren't surprised - he had completely changed. If he had been nice before, he now reminded you of how well he fit in with the Kim family. Cold, intimidating, his whole presence instigating fear and making weaklings flee at the sight of him. You could see others casting wary glances before scurrying off as silently as possible. He could change at a blink of an eye, and what was so usual for him, looked so strange to you.

 There was no sign of the Taehyung you knew that had gifted you with a changeling egg as a joke, there was nothing behind his expressive eyes apart from a vast void. He asked brief questions and gave concise replies, his voice monotone and dry. There was nothing extra or nothing warm about him at all.

 Tiny hairs at the back of your neck rose as you realised once again how deadly he actually was. You checked the air around you, realising that his whole aura had turned pitch black. He had dropped back into what the world expected of him and it had been long since you had seen this part of him. But now you could see it once again, how the darkness had overtaken his aura, how it engulfed him in its embrace.

 What he usually kept hidden away was now released.

 With the purpose of bringing about fear.

 This didn't seem to faze the elderly lady in front of you, who did send a couple of sharp looks towards Taehyung which he didn't acknowledge. However, you noticed it. You also noticed how she shook her head and her message was clear.

 Do not meddle with them.

 'I have to go,' Taehyung's voice interrupted your thoughts and just as your eyes met, as his fingertips grazed against your arm in a short farewell, he disappeared.

 'He's no good, that boy,' you heard, all four eyes fixed on the spot where Taehyung had stood a second ago. 'He is a child of darkness itself, he's not suited for a young bright woman like you.'

 Your eyes snapped to her, no doubt your surprise evident even when your voice was controlled, 'That's definitely not the case.'

 But her gaze was wise and knowing, her eyes sad with a sign of warning. Your eyes must've given away more than you would've liked to admit and with a tinge of guilt, you remained quiet as you followed her.

 Was it this obvious to Taehyung as well?

 And that was the last thought you had before your mind fell into its regular pattern as you pulled your green halo around yourself. You saw a glimpse of him here and there, walking around with others as dangerous as him. You saw numerous high-ranked gods who you acknowledged with a nod from far away, and saw Ancients teleport in and then disappear.

 Even Hoseok was there and you knew that this was not just about one little boy - there was something bigger at stake.

 You remembered Taehyung's words and his broken soul in the morning when he confessed his latest doings. You only saw him once more that day when he was discussing something with Hoseok. But to your surprise there was nothing ill in the air between them. Hoseok greeted him with a pat on his back and Taehyung gave him a grim smile before they fell into a more serious conversation.

 They both looked lethal, standing together with a group of others, all dressed in black.

 But your attention was soon grabbed by the eyes that looked up at you, one pair more broken than another.

 They all reminded you of Taehyung, as broken as the first time you had met him.

[dimension-heroes]

Synthetic Life Chapter 35

Hi everyone! I’m really happy to return to writing this alongside my other stories. Really wish to give thanks to @lonemaximal, for being great support.

The blizzard wind rushed through the remaining jets. All bearing frost on their wings; flying above a frozen road. No Vehicons in sight, if the snow hasn't caught them. A Vehicon nicknamed Giddy flew up to Tim. “Do you think the blizzard is the reason for the loss of the signal?” Giddy asked. “It's harder to get a signal. How can this Earth element effect us?” Dreadwing questioned. (He flew further ahead in the snow; the surviving Vehicons continuing to follow. The femme Vehicon went closer to Dreadwing)

    “Commander?” The Vehicon asked. “Yes.” Dreadwing replied. “I wondered on what happened to you, how did you end up on those cliffs?” The femme asked. “A previous blizzard occurred during my search. Far stronger than this; it blew me off course. I crashed into one of those structures and rested till you came.” Dreadwing said. “Did we disturb you?” The Vehicon asked. “No, I needed to return to my mission.” Dreadwing said. “Dreadwing, sir!” Tim cried. (The mech and femme paused, noticing Tim diving towards the ground. Those still alive followed, escaping the clouds.

    The Vehicons and Dreadwing landed onto the ice cold asphalt. Particles attaching themselves to their armor. All noticed Tim running to something covered in show. He brushed it away and gasped. A Vehicon lay buried in snow, frozen in the position he died in. The femme Vehicon trembled, looking up at Dreadwing. He approached the body and glanced on Tim)

“Autobots.” Dreadwing growled. “Knock Out must've told them and now their looking for Breakdown.” Giddy growled. (Dreadwing sighed, the cold wind started to get harsh. Snow flew through the air, trees started to become harder to see. More bodies revealed from the harsh conditions. The femme Vehicon approached the others, tripping on a pile of snow. She stood up; armor shaking from both fear and the cold. The femme glanced at the pile, noticing movement) “Everyone!” The Vehicon called. (Dreadwing and the two Vehcions went up to her. She pointed to the pile of snow moving.

    Tim and Giddy dug through the ice, pulling out Abby. She moaned, red visor flashing) “Primus your lucky!” Giddy yelled. “Hmm? Am I dead?” Abby asked. “No, now we need to contact base. What happened while we were gone?” Tim asked. “I saw red and yellow cars, they attacked us. Killed everyone.” Abby sighed. “Knock Out and Bumblebee; they're looking for Breakdown as well.” Tim sighed. (Abby started to stand up, except her frame refused to move)

    “No, save your strength.” The Vehicon said. (They stared on the wounded Vehicon) “I can't get a signal from down here. Will have to try somewhere else.” Dreadwing growled. “We can't separate, Abby will die without us.” The Vehicon said. (The Seeker glared upon the femme; Tim approached Dreadwing)

    “We'll find higher ground or hope that this blizzard ends soon.” Tim said. “Then there's one choice.” Dreadwing said. (He started to walk away. Abby looked at Tim and Giddy) “Have any other ideas?” Abby asked. “I do have some nets, if your alright with flying high up.” Giddy said. “Which type of net?” Abby asked. “Sleep Net.” Giddy answered. (Silence; the winged femme Vehicon sighed before walking up to Dreadwing. Her optics on the bracelet)

    “Commander Dreadwing?” The Vehicon asked. “What?” Dreadwing replied. “I've mentioned it before, that bracelet, it looks good on you.” The Vehicon whispered. (She looked away, still able to notice a thin smile on her Comamnder's face) “It reminds me of my brother. And a bit of my past.” Dreadwing said. “What happened?” The Vehicon asked. “Do you know of Orniths?” Dreadwing asked. “No, my life began near the end of the fighting on Cybertron. Information about those things didn't matter. At least, to everyone around me.” The Vehicon said. (She glanced back at the three Vehicons wrestling each other)

    “In Seeker culture, an Orniths is mean to represent many things. Most wear these long chains during celebrations. Pieces of metal would dangle from them. Often bearing a symbol of what they wish for the most.” Dreadwing explained. “Did you get one?” The Vehicon asked. “Yes, long before the war; I received oone from a close friend. Her Ornith represented love, that she had affection for me. Except, my Sire disagreed.” Dreadwing answered. “Why did he not like it?” The Vehicon asked. “He wanted me and my twin to ignore those emotions. Most considered him crazy after a nightmare he had. About a war, how he would lose me, Skyquake, and our Carrier. He trained Skyquake and I to where we are now.” Dreadwing explained. “Do you still feel those emotions, when their buried away by all the years of fighting?” The Vehicon asked. “No. I'm not meant to show others of weakness. My Sire destroyed her Ornith to ensure I wouldn't let my emotions control me.” Dreadwing answered. “Then, why do you keep the bracelet?” The Vehicon asked.

    (Dreadwing paused, red optics focused on the emeralds and diamonds. Why did he accept this gift when he should've destroyed it? The SIC looked at the soldier) “You seem interested in this, did you make it?” Dreadwing asked. “No, where did you find it?” The Vehicon asked. “At a mine during my mission for Knock Out. I woke to the sight of a box contianing this and a message. I'm still curious about who would give me this. And to know who it was.” Dreadwing answered. (The Vehicon lowered her helm)

    “Um, Commander; there's one last thing I wanted to tell you.” The Vehicon said. (Dreadwing stared at her, ignoring the ice coating his armor) “Yes?” Dreadwing asked. (She froze; Spark racing) “Um, I saw you in the war back on Cybertron. When the Guardians started their rampage against us Vehicons. You and your brother appeared and destroyed many of them. Which allowed us to escape. I never got the chance to thank you for saving us that day.” The Vehicon explained. (Dreadwing nodded) “We needed soldiers to survive; it was quite hard to battle the Guardians. Knowing that they would've killed me or my brother in their grip.” Dreadwing answered. “That and I, well.” The Vehicon paused. “Well?” Dreadwing asked. (She lowered her helm, Spark pulsing faster. All till they heard shouting from behind.

      Both saw Giddy and Tim dragging Abby, now trapped in a Sleep Net) “Wait for us!” Tim yelled. (Dreadwing sighed) “We will talk at another time.” Dreadwing said. (He walked off, the femme Vehicon stared at the snow) “Will I ever get the courage?” The Vehicon thought.

    Hiding behind snow covered trees, two mechs stood on a mound of snow. Their optics focused on the four on the frozen road. Dead End sighed) “Wildrider and Drag Strip already made this situation worse. And their too busy racing in circles and not looking for our brother.” Dead End mused. “Once I get my servos on them, I'll grind them to dust.” Motormaster growled. “Still; how is Breakdown able to slip by us. Might've died already and we forgot.” Dead End said. (He got a slap to the back of his helm)

    “Enough Dead End, we came here to see what Megatron's soldiers are up too. Now knowing their alive, alongside two more, those two know how to mess up.” Motormaster growled. “Well, what now?” Dead End asked. “Keep an optic on them and try to also find our other two brothers. I'll continue the search for Breakdown and give Knock Out a little visit.” Motormaster ordered. (Dead End nodded, he stared as his older brother vanished) “What a busy day.” Dead End sighed.

[haytownsend]

Run- English Narrative

Leaves fluttered past as my freshly chopped hair whipped behind me.I never really thought of how being a track and field runner would help me in my future until now I said a silent thank you to my track coach for pushing me so often. With my little brother on my heals and eldest sister ahead of me, I tried to go to the special mind place like the track coach taught me. It was a bit difficult between the screaming of my younger brother, and the sound of popping bullets. My heart slammed against my chest, wondering if I had the will to jump in and save my brother, or if I was too selfish. Why these people were after us in the first place, I wish I knew. Flashback to two hours prior, sitting on edge at dinner with my family. My second oldest sister was in her trials, and no one dared to speak about it. If she came out alive, we’d all be shocked. She wasn't the most active person, nor was our family too wealthy. Though, every once in a while there was small talk on how the day went, or praising my father for how our dinner is. We all knew it was dull and tasteless, but he tried. There were seven of us. Five kids and my parents. I was directly in the middle, with two older sisters, Thalia and Tate, and two younger brothers, Liam and Luke. Between seven mouths to feed, being a single income family, and having the economy plummet by the day, it was difficult to get anything. The apples that once cost a dollar a piece were now twenty each. With a loud slam from the door, we all jumped from our seats. We had been sat in a small circle on the floor, our once full plates spilling. The small house had very few places to be, considering it was a one room home. My mother looked to us in panic. “You guys, go.” She told us. Liam clutched onto her leg in protest, and she tried to shoo him off. Thalia, Luke and I bolted out the back door, instantly hearing screams and guns going off. Then, silence. We took off through the back alleys, bolting into the woods and trying to escape. Our family was shot. My mother, my father, even Liam. He was only four. We rolled into a small dip in the ground, ducking into a hole under the ground as the men who had been following us ran past. I held Luke back against me, the nine year old quivering and crying silently as we watched the military men march past. “What just happened?” I whispered to Thalia. “Why? What? Oh god.” I tucked my head into Luke’s hair, holding it together. “I don't know, but we have to find Tate.” I shook my head, knowing we couldn't leave this hole. Not with all those guys out there, heavily armed and ready. I remember reading in one of my fathers old books a quote from the buddha, “The trouble is, you think you have time.” I was never a very religious person, though I loved learning about the different ideals and quotes from those people worship. The buddha never understood me more. My parents wouldn't have ever thought that our own military would break into their home, kill both them and their four year old son. We all thought we had more time, when in fact life can be ripped away in an instant. A hand rested on my shoulder, and I felt my reflexes kick in and threaten to scream in fear when I recognized the person as Thalia. It was just the three of us, in complete silence. “Let’s sneak out now.” She whispered. I nodded, her climbing up first. She approved that it was all clear and pulled Luke and I up aswell. We walked through the woods, knowing we couldn't return to our sector. It was only a matter of time before sector nine would all be in a blood craving frenzy. Though, there wasn't much elsewhere to go. The ruins of sector ten would be nearby. Maybe a good ten miles, but it was there. It would have some kind of discreet shelter, and would be very low key. It was our best chance at survival. Thalia wrapped an arm around Luke, promising that we would be okay as we strode through the woods. It took nearly ten hours to get to the destination, between our slow walking, exhaustion, and Luke’s consistent breakdowns. As we came across sector ten, I felt my heart shatter. The once beautiful city was now down to rubble and a graveyard. Half the buildings still stood, while the other half were deteriorated to dust and rocks. There were maybe three or four people to walk by every once in awhile, stragglers with their homes destroyed. Destroyed city (in real life: Aleppo; in the Narrative: sector ten) In one day, my eyes were opened to our world. It took too long to pick up what was happening, but now I saw it all. Sector ten got bombed because they revolted. Sector nine was in the slums because we didn't deserve what sector one through five had. The government picked and chose who was meaningful and who wasn't just by who and where they were born to. In school, we were taught of the past. Of the presidential elections, and the wars, and the political tension. It seemed almost strange to me that there was once a world where countries were together in politics, or that there was a time people were harassed by who they love or how they look. Now, the planet is in “every man for himself” mode, where no countries cooperated. The hate was only between sectors, not races or love. There was a much more real issue now than the color of someone's skin. For example, murdering an entire family, or bombing the entirety of a sector to dust. An abandoned skyscraper with large gaps in half of the building was the closest to liveable. Sitting on the floor, Thalia excused herself to go and find supplies for us. She told me she would be gone for an hour. It was difficult to let her go, I didn't want to lose anyone else. “Tess,” she called me over to the corner before she left, wanting to speak without Luke overhearing. I stood and approached her. “I know this is a bad situation. I know it will take adjusting. But we really have to try to take this time better than it really is. Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.” “Is this our oasis?” I asked in response. “I’m not blind, Thalia. We’re probably going to go hungry, it’s getting cold, two of my siblings are dead, and we are running from the government. Stop the cliches. I’ll be the one to break the truth if I have to.” If I wasn't annoyed, I would've felt bad for snapping at her. She was struggling to grasp things, but she thought we were in a fairytale. I had to yank her back to the real world before she got too big of a head of false hopes. Maybe this was the beginning of the end. We can only fight for a long while running from the military, and we only have so much time before we are out of crucial supplies. I wish I knew who to blame, but for now we were on the run. My literary style was pulling famous quotes from different religions, alongside using flashback to give definition to the plot. My model author was Rick Riordan, author of Percy Jackson™ series, along with it’s spinoff series. Throughout the Percy Jackson books, he uses flashback in prior events in the story without going too far back to give detail (yet sarcasm) to his writing without having it belong and dreary explanations. I used this technique when Tess flashes back to when she was at her home with her family. I also kept details vague to keep a reader on their toes and wanting to learn more on what the plot was about.