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asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog · 8 months

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Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: Danny makes an exciting discovery

Word count: 2297

Chapter 18: That’s Convenient

18/?

Danny walked into the night afterwards. He still had no direction in mind, so instead followed the tug in his chest. The night air was cold and crisp and he felt at peace. Although he couldn’t feel the air come into his lungs, he still remembered how it felt and so he was able to feel it. Ectoplasm was a collection of memories and feelings after all. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but being as he was now, he was able to accept the phantom feeling of being alive and breathing. Hehe. Phantom. It seemed he was able to move forward again and use comedy as a coping mechanism. Little victories.

The city was quiet, save for a few people walking home. Most of them looked dead inside (same) from their stressful jobs, but there were others (usually younger) who still seemed pretty awake. One such pair were two heroes doing a patrol. One, presumably a guy, had a helmet made of wood, and similarly fashioned accessories. The other was a blonde woman with purple horns wearing a form-fitting suit. Danny wasn’t sure what her theme was, but her costume was well designed overall and had a nice color scheme. They walked side by side with their steps synched, which meant they were at least familiar with each other. The tree guy (or Groot as Danny will now be calling him) kept talking to her, but she didn’t really seem interested, and she looked straight ahead, ignoring him. She made eye contact with Danny, which was awkward since he felt like now he couldn’t look away without being awkward. They were going to pass by soon anyway, so Danny just held her gaze. Eventually, she passed him, and Danny nodded his head at her, politely, not sure what else to do.

They hadn’t gotten very far before Danny heard the woman whisper to her partner, “That kid gives me the creeps…” She must’ve thought Danny wouldn’t be able to hear her. Unfortunately for her, Danny’s ears were able to pick it up. He turned around to look at her, still kinda shocked. Yeah people called him creepy behind his back, but that was after at least talking to him first. She noticed him and just stared at him like she had before, but with clear intent behind her eyes. Danny made a visibly confused face at her and shrugged his shoulders in an over dramatic fashion, then turned away. Some people…

Danny didn’t let that stop him from his wandering. He started kicking a pebble in front of him, following where it landed and kicking it again. He thought back to the weird guy. Everything about that situation was sketchy, but Danny didn’t get a weird vibe from the man …well he did, but it wasn’t a bad weird just …weird? Danny didn’t feel like he was in danger, not like an old man like that could hurt him, but the wrongness of it all nagged at him. He wasn’t giving off malicious intent, he just seemed annoyed out of everything. Which was fair since Danny did interrupt…whatever was going on. Besides all that, could Danny even trust how he feels about the situation? He has been in dangerous situations before without feeling something was off and vice versa. This world could just be making him paranoid, like with the hero from before. Could Danny even trust himself? He didn’t know what to feel.

Danny kicked the pebble harder this time and it clattered into an alleyway with a soft slash. He followed in without thinking. Immediately the atmosphere changed. Somehow, the air felt more fresh, despite the smell, and Danny felt it flow through his body. He felt more energized and even his core was vibrating with the energy. He cautiously walked further into the alley, not used to the level of ectoplasm in the air. It wasn’t enough to trigger his ghost sense yet, but it was higher than anything he felt in this world (excluding the boy, he still couldn’t wrap his head around that). It was like splashing in a puddle when you’re used to the ocean. The surroundings started to look familiar too. It was nothing in the alley itself, no trash bag or box stood out to him, but rather the feeling of the alley. With sudden clarity Danny realized this was the alley with the portal…

Danny walked deeper in, waving his arms around like he was treading underwater. There was more ectoplasm here than there was before, and it felt thick between his fingers, like a liquid cleaner. It was awkward with human clothes on, like wearing long sleeves that kept unfolding when you’re trying to do something. He unzipped the hoodie and tied it around his waist. He didn’t want to get it dirty by putting it on the ground and have to get a new one. This was the safest option. He continued the motion again. He was able to hear people walking past the alleyway, and shut down the feeling of being embarrassed. Danny doubted anyone would be waltzing in anytime soon. Most people naturally avoided areas with abundant ectoplasm. Bad vibes. His fingers briefly pass through a thicker glob of ectoplasm and it reverberated through Danny’s body as if he hit his funny bone. The Portal. He shakes the hand that hit the portal, but it still felt tingly. As luck would have it, it was his left arm and his scars were even reacting to the hit.

He walked closer to the portal. He lifted his right arm up and traced from where it started to where it ended. It still felt tingly, but in a softer, gentaler way. Like it was saying hi. It had gotten longer since he had last felt it. That wasn’t the only thing that changed. Before it felt like an itch under the skin, but now felt like a raised scar. He put his palm against it and felt it moving or maybe throbbing from the otherside. It was growing. That’s why there was so much ectoplasm in the alley, the portal was leaking. It wasn’t stable enough to keep open, but it wasn’t stable enough to keep completely close. But that still didn’t make sense, Where was it getting the energy to grow? His first thought would be the Ghost Zone, but if that's all it took then portals would be everywhere. It needed energy from here, from this world. Maybe it was coming from him? Maybe it knew how badly he wanted to get home and so kept trying to force itself to open? Danny remembered how intune he felt with the Ghost Zone after he left the Keep. Maybe it wanted him back? That didn’t seem right either. Very few ghosts were able to make portals, and even then they had to be intentional. Danny wasn’t consciously willing the portal to open. The only times he was thinking of the portal was when he was trying to find the damn thing.

Danny stepped back to get a better view of the portal, although that didn’t help since it was invisible. He let his human disguise wash off him like he was putting down a bag of groceries. It felt disrespectful to the portal somehow. Danny didn’t know what he was gonna do. He spent half his time looking for the thing but he never came up with a plan for when he did. He lifted off of the ground and sat criss-crossed staring at it, a frown resting on his face. He really had no idea what to do. A weird feeling came over him and Danny realized he felt…better. Like physically (spectorly?) better. More energized. He moved his hand through the air again and remembered what he was floating in. Pure ectoplasm, straight from the Ghost Zone. From one of his many deep pockets, Danny pulled out the Fenton Thermos™. He had other handy things like extra Fenton Earphones™, goggles that the suit came with that he never wore, and other little gadgets and parts. Danny fired up the thermos and sucked up the leaking ectoplasm, careful to not get the portal or himself. It would be bad if this were to affect the environment. He may not be the smartest, but he was resourceful. With this, he might be able to collect enough ectoplasm to open the portal. It was also a good pick-me-up for Danny. That could be why he’s been so weird here. He was already feeling better. There was still some residual ectoplasm in the air, but it should be gone soon with Danny absorbing it. Oh my god is that why that guy's tongue melted??? Danny had the theory that it was his separated ectoplasm hungry and seeking food, but he really feels this confirms it.

Danny held his hand in front of his face and watched as it slowly melted. He wasn’t used to the sensation yet, having never been able to do this back in Amity except for emergencies. He let some of it fall and it floated around him like a satellite. He didn’t have anything to test it on, so it just bobbed around him. He looked around absently and found a dead rat off to the side. It looked pretty fresh, most of its hair and flesh was still intact, but Danny spotted a gash where bugs were able to burrow in. Danny felt slightly disgusted, but not enough to turn away. Sam would probably give the rat a burial, she’s done it before with the frogs. The blob, seemingly reading his mind, floated down over the body, hesitating. Danny nodded, both to himself and the blob. It fell onto the dead creature with a splat, and the rat looked like it was encased in jello. Don’t melt, don’t melt, don’t melt. For a second nothing happened. Then another. Danny sat watching, waiting for the goo to liquefy the animal, but still nothing happened. He let out a reflexive sigh of relief, and the blob floated back toward him.

A dark thought went into his mind. The blob floated back down and laid over the rat again. The rat started to sink into itself, it’s mouth shriveling back to make it look like it was screaming. Some of the bugs started crawling out of the corpse, but were trapped by the tar like goo so were unable to escape. Small holes started covering the rat’s fur and more bugs were seen squirming underneath. Most of it’s flesh was already dissolved underneath, and parts of it’s skeleton was on display like a plate of ribs at a BBQ. Hyper decomposition. Danny didn’t make it stop. A few seconds later, it’s skeleton was picked clean, but still the goo didn’t leave. It gnawed at the bones as well until they too were dissolved. Once the deed was done, it floated back to Danny, innocent like a little puppy. He stared at the spot the rat once laid, trying to process it. He grabbed the blob out of the air and absorbed it back into him.

Danny felt numb. No that wasn’t right, he was feeling something, but it didn’t want to crawl out and reveal itself, so it stayed sharp under his skin. A prickly sensation under his ribs cage. He thought he would be overwhelmed when the rat started to sink into itself, that he would have to stop and throw up. But he didn’t, he felt none of that. Instead he allowed it to go on. He was eager to see more, fascinated to see his powers work in a way he hadn’t before. Was that how his parents felt when they ran a knife over his skin? Is that why they didn’t stop even when he begged them? No. He wasn’t like them. He will never be like them. That was a rat, a dead rat no less, and he was a boy (a dead boy). The rat felt nothing while he felt everything. There was a difference.

But something nagged at him, and he felt it crawl out from under his ribs. He finally recognized the feeling. He felt this before, in this world. It was there with Stain and the Mutant. What is that feeling? It burned in his veins when he stared down Stain, and it burned in him now as he stared at the empty spot. Did he want to melt the rat? He swore he didn’t, really, he just wanted to see if anything would actually happen. Deep down he knew he was lying. The rat melted because he wanted it to. Did he want Stain to melt?

Stain was hurting children . He was the lowest of the low. He deserved everything he got, and more. But Danny was a lot stronger than Stain. The moment Danny’s first hit connected, he was no longer a threat. Danny still wanted to hurt him, he pitied the man but he felt more spite than anything. His ectoplasm must’ve responded to that and lashed out. Why did he still want to hurt him so much? Danny pounded the rat’s grave with his fist in frustration, and it cracked the concrete below. He hasn’t changed since he was a kid, he was still so angry and sad all the time. He was just taller now.

Surprised voices rang out in the alleyway. Danny whipped his head towards them in an unnatural manner and he heard a gasp. A man and a woman stood still past the entrance of the alley. Danny instantly recognized them. They were the heroes from before…

Before Danny could do anything, the captain tree-head launched an attack of tree roots from his hand that wrapped around Danny.

#danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #dp cross #dp crossover #dp fic #dp x bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #dp fanfic #dp x bnha fanfic #dp x mha fanfic #mt. lady #kamui woods #minor body horror

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omgsquee2001 · 8 months

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Chapter 3: Elves and Spiders

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TW: major Arachnophobia

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She turned to the others.

"Enough! Quiet! All of you! We're being watched."

Meanwhile, Bilbo was still climbing the trees, trying to find the sun. As he crawled, he didn't notice the masses of spiderwebs all around him. His head broke through the trees and into the air. Suddenly, it is as if a spell had been broken, and Bilbo's head cleared. As he breathed deeply, he saw blue butterflies flying all around him. The sun was setting, and everything looked beautiful. Bilbo smiled and laughed. He then looked off into the distance and saw several landmarks.

"I- I can see a lake! And a river. And the Lonely Mountain. We're almost there!" Bilbo shouted as he observed from the tree top. He heard no reply from the dwarves. He tilted his head down. "Can you hear me? I know which way to go!" Silence yet again. "Hello?" Bilbo looked down, trying to see the dwarves. "Alrún?" He called down yet again. He heard a thumping noise in the distance and looked up. "Hello?" He asked quietly. In the distance, the trees were moving haphazardly under the weight of something approaching. The movement was coming straight toward Bilbo and the dwarves. Worriedly, Bilbo climbed down a bit and peered around. He stepped forward, only to trip over a spiderweb and fell several feet, bouncing painfully off branches, and yelling in pain and shock the entire time. He caught himself on a branch, then watched in horror as a web parted to reveal a massive spider. As the spider opened its fangs and hissed at him, Bilbo yelped and fell again, landing on his back in an even bigger spiderweb. He was stuck to it and was thus unable to resist as the spider wrapped him up tightly.

All of the dwarves had also been captured by giant spiders. The spiders have hung them upside down from tree branches. A spider towed a web-encased Bilbo toward the dwarves, then reached for him with its jaws, presumably to administer its poison. Bilbo woke up and realized what is happening. Just as the spider bent toward him, he managed to swing his sword, which he had been holding, straight up from his body, through the web, and into the spider. He gutted it and flung it over the edge of the branch he had been lying on, sending it crashing to the forest floor. Bilbo quickly ripped off the cocoon of web he has been wrapped in. Looking up, he saw the dwarves wrapped up and hanging from branches; he hid behind a tree trunk as a spider climbed up the other side of the trunk. Bilbo pulled out his Ring from his pocket and slipped it on his finger. In addition to becoming invisible, he entered the Ring's "other dimension," and he could suddenly understand what the spiders were saying, which before sounded like whispers and clicks.

"Kiilll theemm. Kiill theemm."

"Eat them now, scrumptious and runny."

"Their hide is tough. There is good juice inside."

The spiders surround one wrapped dwarf. However, this dwarf was a bit smaller. Bilbo realized that it was Alrún. She woke up and started kicking in fear. She couldn't do much when wrapped up so tightly. The spiders were sent into a frenzy realizing that Alrún had woken up.

"Stick it again! Stick it again! Finish it off!"

"Ahh! The meat's alive and kicking!"

"Kill them, kill them now. Let us feast."

The spiders started to chant; "Feast! Feast!"

Bilbo, holding his sword in front of him, approached the spiders. He ducked just in time as a spider crawled along a branch above him, going toward the dwarves. Bilbo threw a piece of wood away and to the side, causing all the spiders to rush after the source of noise.

"What is it? What is it? Kill it! Feast! Feast!"

One spider stayed behind and prepared to eat a wrapped and squirming Bombur.

"Fat and juicy. Just a little taste." The spider dropped Bombur to the tree trunk and prepared to eat him. Bilbo snuck up and struck it on its rear with his sword. The spider spun around and hissed, but Bilbo was invisible to it. Bilbo kept slicing at it, slicing away a leg and part of its head.

"Curses! Where is it? Where is it?!" The spider shouted, trying to find the thing that was hurting it. Bilbo pulled off his ring, revealing himself to the spider. He gave a little smile.

"Here!" Bilbo thrust his sword directly into the spider's head. The spider screamed in pain.

"It stings! Stings!"

Bilbo pulled out his sword and the spider, dead, crashed to the ground. Bilbo looked at his sword and smiled slightly.

"Sting. That's a good name." He said. Bilbo looked toward where the dwarves were still wrapped and tied up. "Sting." Bilbo used Sting to cut down all the dwarves. They landed on the forest floor and proceed to rip off their wrappings, cursing and yelling the entire time. Alrún looked around frantically after helping get Mizim out of her wrappings, the wolf shaking her fur out in disgust.

"Where's Bilbo?" Alrún asked, looking around frantically for the Hobbit. The dwarves stared calling out for Bilbo, trying to find the Hobbit.

"I'm up here!" Bilbo shouted. Before he could call again, a spider jumped at Bilbo from underneath the branch he was standing on, and it pined him underneath it. However, he managed to put Sting in front of him just in time, stabbing the spider through the belly. As the spider fell off the branch, Bilbo, entangled in its legs, fell with it. As the pair smashed against branches on their way down, Bilbo's ring fell off his finger and landed some distance away from where Bilbo had landed. Bilbo got up and began stumbling toward where the Ring fell.

Meanwhile, the dwarves had freed themselves and they tried to escape, only to be surrounded by the returning spiders. Alrún rose her sword and her free hand, calling the earth to her will. They fought against the spiders with their various weapons. Bombur was knocked to the floor by a spider, and it stood over him to bite him. The others ran over to help him.

“Grab a leg!" Alrún shouted. The other dwarves grabbed each of the spider's legs.

"Pull!" Dwalin shouted. The dwarves pulled at the spider's legs, and they manage to pull its legs right off its body. The dismembered body of the spider landed on poor Bombur.

Meanwhile, Bilbo was looking around for the Ring in a panic.

"Where is it? Where is it? Come on. Where is it?" As if feeling its presence, Bilbo froze and slowly looked over his shoulder. He saw the Ring lying on the ground nearby. Relieved, he began walking toward it. Suddenly, a young, odd-looking spider emerged from the ground just behind the Ring. The spider's legs pushed the Ring aside as the spider crawled toward Bilbo. Bilbo looked at it angrily, then rushed at it with his sword raised, yelling all the way. He began to hack at the spider in a berserk manner, hacking and slicing all over the place.

Back with Alrún and the others, they re still fighting the spiders. A spider managed to grab Kili. Fili's eyes widened with horror.

"Kili!"

Bilbo continued hacking wildly at the spider, slicing off limbs, feelers, and more. He stuck his sword in its throat, ripping it out, then jumped and stabbed the spider through the head and into the ground. As the spider fell, Bilbo panting heavily. He grabbed the Ring off the ground, then held it up and shows it to the dead spider.

"Mine!" Bilbo hissed. Having defeated the spider, Bilbo sat down and examined the Ring. As he gazed on it, the enormity of what he had just down dawned on him, and he looked shocked. He looked down and saw all the spiderwebs and gore on himself. He covered his mouth in shame and disgustedness. He was about to put the ring away when he heard a noise.

The dwarves had defeated their spiders, and were running through the forest. More spiders jumped down on threads of silk in front of the dwarves and hiss at them. Thorin raised his sword in preparation to fight, but paused and looked up. A blonde Elf ran through the treetops, then swung down a spider's silk in order to land on it and kill it. He slid on the forest floor under the spider facing Thorin, slicing it in half, and came up kneeling with an arrow nocked in his bow and pointed at Thorin. Several other Mirkwood elves appeared, drawing arrows and pointing them at the dwarves. This elf was Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm.

"Do not think I won't kill you, dwarf. It would be my pleasure."

~~~

Tag List

@mrsdurin

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//Sorry if this chapter is a little short//

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 2 years

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WKM Role Swap - Trapped in a Wasteland

Go Back to the Start, Previous Chapter

Now this…. Oh, this chapter is quite curious, for it takes the place of the story you know only as "DAMIEN". However, as you may already know, Damien is still alive and well. Which brings me to my question for you to ponder:

If Actor is hunting Damien and William, and both men are presumed alive in the physical world, what happens to those in the Void that he doesn't consider checking?

For that matter, how many people are trapped there?

Warning! This doozy of a chapter contains descriptions of body horror and self harm in the form of bodies rotting or being corrupted in the paragraph immediately under the read-more. Discretion is advised.

When William awoke to darkness, he thought it was a joke. It was an elaborate scheme, right? And now someone had locked him in a cupboard as part of the joke. That had to be it.

He stretched his arms out. No walls. Stomping did not give the same ‘thunk’ one would hear when in a closet. There was only emptiness around him… and light. A faint glow that came from him. At first, he thought it to be white, but then realised it was a very faint red. It was his only source of light as he wandered the expansive unknown. Was he even moving? His feet made no sound on impact. Nothing around him changed. Maybe he was suspended in a single moment for all eternity.

Tripping on something proved otherwise.

William waved his hands out in front of him. Nothing was there. But when the action was repeated after kneeling down, the trip hazard was dimly illuminated to reveal a corpse. It was a man that had been dead for a long time. The process of decay was already in full swing. The skin was draped on the skeleton like a poorly wrapped present. The sole eyeball stared vacantly at the nothingness just behind William’s left shoulder. The nose was partially gone, following the fate of the fully exposed mouth. Death was nothing strange to the Colonel, but even he felt a knot twist in his gut at the sight. His hands waved further down, allowing him to see more. Faint markings that looked like cuts on the wrists, a single bloodstain on the shirt - William recognised the outfit. There was only one person who had once told him that the combo of a deep red waistcoat, white shirt, and black, fitted trousers was his favourite outfit that he would wear until the material became threadbare:

“... Mark?”

But Mark had been wearing a red, silken robe the night he died. Not only that, it had been years since William had seen this outfit. Something wasn’t adding up. This looked like the Mark he remembered from long ago, back when the actor was a well-meaning, albeit burdened young man who cared about his friends and family. Now, William could barely recognise the face of a man who had died two nights earlier. He was a man of war. Bodies didn't decompose that quickly. It would be madness to assume otherwise.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed kneeling by the body, contemplating this bizarre discovery. Guilt for his actions had caught up with him. Had he been so harsh to burn the bridge between himself and Mark? They were so close growing up. Now look at them. If he had only tried harder to understand the struggles Mark was going through, would any of this have happened? An apology was whispered, remorse was confessed as he reached down to close the eyes of the actor's corpse. A faint breeze brushed over William’s shoulders. He looked up, expecting to see someone there. No one was present. Yet… Were there always dead trees around them?

He looked down. The body was gone. In its place was a little flower, thriving despite the snow around it. It was a white daffodil, with the core a soft shade of red instead of the usual yellow. Though bewildered at the unexpected change, it made William chuckle. This was the sort of theatrics he missed from Mark. One petal was gently stroked, and finally, he rose to his feet.

In his distraction, the world had shifted to a winter hellscape. The snow and dead trees stretched on for miles either way. If he wasn't careful, he would freeze out here. He had to go.

A gust of wind tugged him toward a faintly visible path. To William, it was like a long forgotten forest trek in a place that was slowly dying. Evergreen trees drooped overhead, their shadows stained with green needles. Deciduous trees were beginning to rot at the trunk. Life once thrived here, but only death remained.

Was this purgatory? Rotten souls such as the Colonel didn't deserve any sort of salvation (not that he was a religious man), but it didn't explain why Mark was here, nor did it ease the sensation that he was being watched. William slowed to a halt to squint toward a group of trees bunched together. The wind promptly picked up, pushing him with such a force that he stumbled back into a walking speed.

"Alright, alright…" He rubbed his hands over his arms to try and give himself a bit of warmth. Spending eternity wandering snowy wastelands didn't sound fun. If he was lucky, he might be able to find a cave. From there, he could work on lighting a fire and making camp.

As William kept walking, the weather began to change. A cold wind whipped up around him as the gentle snowfall morphed into a flurry. It was so intense that even with his arm over his forehead to shield his vision, William could barely see two feet in front of him. Whatever breeze that had been merely nudging him earlier had taken to pulling and dragging him in different directions. He didn't trip, so all he could do was hope that he was being led in the right direction.

Meanwhile, the snow was rising. It was nearly at his knees. It was getting difficult to walk through it. The cold was starting to take root deep in his bones.

"I thought the dead weren't supposed to feel this shit." Once more, he furiously rubbed his arms. It did nothing to give any sense of fake warmth. The layers weren't helping. He couldn't feel his hands. And then, finally, his legs gave way and he dropped into the snow.

Whatever was guiding him was pulling at his sleeve like it was begging him to get up.

"I can't. It feels like I’ve been going in circles. I can't see what's going on. I don't know what the bloody hell you're trying to do, but I don't deserve your help." Why was he trying to argue with the wind? William was too frustrated to care. "I have ruined so many lives today because I refused to tell the truth. If I had just been honest and told them I killed Mark, then -"

Something pressed hard on both his cheeks, forcing him to lift his head.

"I don't deserve any sort of pity. Go. Leave me here where I belong."

The pressure on his cheeks intensified, making the soldier's lips pop out like a fish. "None of thish should haf happn'd. Mark an' Sheleen are dead because of me."

The wind's howling was growing stronger, but it almost sounded like it was trying to mask a voice.

"C'mon, Will. You've always been my hero. You can't run away now!" A child's voice made William sharply turn his head to the right. Hidden through a layer of snow, he was sure he could see the silhouettes of two children running by. One had stopped, but the other turned to grab a hand and pull the first child along. Laughter rang through the air before it was drowned out by the wind.

"I don't think I'm anyone's hero any more. I don't remember the last time I looked myself in the eye when checking my reflection." Not without the guilt that had been eating him alive since the war. But that wasn't true, was it? People had viewed him as a hero.

Mark, once upon a time, had planned to write a great tale of the heroic Colonel. He was only stopped because an embarrassed William had jumped across the coffee table to grapple the pencil off him.

Damien did too. Despite the injury that should never have happened under William's watch, Damien always had faith in him until the bitter end.

Even Celine - who had been the last to properly use 'Colonel' as a nickname when William tried to encourage it years ago - always made him promise to return when he announced he was going on a trip as security for adventurers.

The unseen presence sharply tugged on his moustache, snapping him back to reality. In the time he was lost in his thoughts, the snow had piled up around William until it nearly consumed him. Was this how the story of William J Barnum was supposed to end? Was this the finale he would share when recounting his adventures to those that were closest to him?

"No… I can't let them down. They believed in me when I couldn't see anything good in myself." The snow weighed him down, almost to the point of immobilising the soldier, but he struggled through and wormed his way back out.

The wind rose to a crescendo as it violently whipped around the Colonel. The unseen companion was now urging him to go, go go.

"You're right. Self-pity later!"

He yanked his gun out of its boot holster and fired into the darkness. Nothing let out any kind of pained noise, but the darkness shuddered a fraction before it continued on. If he couldn’t fight, then he’d need to make a tactical retreat.

The rising snow was no longer an insurmountable obstacle as William raced through the wasteland. He had thrown one glance over his shoulder. He couldn't see what it was, but something cloaked in darkness was on his tail. With the sun setting in this world, it wouldn't be long until he was completely surrounded.

Then, like a beacon in the night, a building appeared on the horizon. A tiny, wooden cabin stood at the top of a hill, partially hidden by trees. A path lined with lanterns showed the way to go.

"I see it!" William felt that presence pushing him onward at a steady pace. All the years of training were proving their worth as he raced up the path with such momentum that he crashed into the door.

The cabin looked tiny, barely two rooms at an estimation. There was a warm, orange light coming from within, but the curtains were closed. The door was locked from the inside and wouldn't budge.

A tug on his shoulder prompted William to turn. The darkness had caught up. It was slower than before, nervously edging toward the first lantern until it struck and extinguished the flame.

"Oh God… Hey! Hey!!" He hammered the door with his fists with such intensity that the hinges rattled. It did nothing, but he swore he could hear rustling inside. "Please! Let me in! There's something out here!"

"Trying to impersonate an old friend? You really are desperate." A woman's voice, sharp and cold, could be heard on the other side. "You are not getting what you want from us."

“Celine?" The presence nudged his back, as though confirming he was right. "Celine, I-I don't know what's going on but there's something in the darkness and - oh God another lantern has gone out. Please, let me in!"

"Alright. Prove you aren't a fake."

William hissed a swear as he could feel the chill setting in again. "I remember taking an afternoon after returning from the events of Jumanji to teach you all how to identify a human when there is a possibility of zombies. You all scoffed and thought the idea ridiculous, but you all humoured me. Homo Necrosis are easy to spot. They are the mindless ones that just want to consume. Homo Sapio Zombifius, on the other hand, are more cunning. They can speak and think, but their impersonations are mediocre. To prove you are still human, you need to share a less obvious memory. Something that a Homo Sapio Zombifius wouldn’t be able to know."

Another glance behind showed another lantern was out, leaving only two left. He was running out of time.

"It would be easy for me to tell you about one of the many events you hosted with Mark during the drama festivals back in the day. That's too obvious. Instead, what about the time you knocked on my door at three in the morning because one of the shelves on your bedroom wall had come loose? Mark tried to be the hero and hoist it back up himself, but he barely had the strength to hold it in place because he didn't think of lifting the items off the shelf in the first place. Or what about the day when we were kids and you were trying to tell me the difference between a ‘curtsey’ and a ‘courtesy’? I kept getting them mixed up but I always knew the difference. I kept lying because I wanted to spend the time with you by myself without the other two around."

No answer, and his surroundings grew even darker. One lantern left. The presence that was by his side patted his shoulder firmly, then disappeared.

"Celine, please. I don't know what's out here. I can't shoot the bloody darkness!"

The door clicked just as the darkness reached out to the final lantern. The flame flickered, only to erupt in a flourish. William watched, wide-eyed, as the fire morphed into a distinctly human-like form with its arms spread out to stop the shadows from creeping ever closer. Before he could catch any details, a hand reached out, grabbed a fistful of his jacket, and yanked him inside.

The door slammed shut and was swiftly locked just as something slammed against it. He could see a shadow try to slip under the door, but it was no use. The cabin was too well protected for it to break through. At last, it retreated, leaving them alone.

William put his back to the door and slowly slid down with a relieved sigh. With the immediate threat gone, he could finally take in the surroundings.

To his surprise, the cabin was even smaller than his estimate. It was a single room that was scarcely decorated. A table with two chairs sat directly opposite him, just below a window. A basic sink and a small mirror were in the far-right corner. The ceramic bowl had an orange tint to it thanks to the low fire coming from the fireplace. Finally, just to his right, he could see a bed frame, but not what was on it. Celine stepped back into view and crouched in front of him with a hand outstretched.

"Are you alright?" In response, William nodded and accepted the hand to pull him back onto his feet.

"I… Have no idea what's going on. I found myself in darkness, then snow, then I was chased by darkness until something pulled me this way, and here I am. It's so absurd, it feels like a joke."

Celine huffed at the dismal summary. "I appreciate you coming to check on us, but there's not much we can do. Mark killed the two of us and is out there in their body. You should go back and help Damien."

"The two of us? Their…?" William's gaze drifted to the right. At last, he could properly see the bed and the sole occupant. They were mostly covered in inky darkness, but half of their face could be seen, which was enough to allow William to identify the District Attorney. They slowly opened their uncovered eye and forced out a weak smile to William to try and ease the panic that gripped the soldier’s chest. William's expression dropped as he approached the bed. “You’re… What happened to you?”

"We tried the séance again.” Celine murmured, moving to fetch a bowl from the sink. “Mark interfered and possessed their body, then sent a creature to take mine. I managed to stop it before it caused more harm when you were all outside the room, but it cost me my life." She knelt at their bedside, lifted a wet cloth from the bowl, and hesitated. "You were right. I should have listened and left when I had the chance. I thought I could get to the bottom of this if I tried one more time." The cloth was gently dabbed across the Attorney's forehead, prompting them to let out a shaky sigh of relief. "But how did you get here? There's no one else who could perform a séance. Damien wouldn't have the skills, and you certainly don't either."

"I know. I'm dead."

"What?" She looked up in disbelief, only to deflate. "So, Mark got you too, huh?"

"Actually… Damien did."

"What?!" The cloth was flung into the bowl with such a force that it rattled. In the blink of an eye, she was on her feet with a tight grip on the collar of William's jacket. She shook him, and the hat clattered to the floor. "Don't you start playing games with me, Colonel. This isn't the time for joking around. They used their energy to send you messages and warnings from their own memories to find my brother, and this is the shit you want to pull on us?!"

"I'm not kidding." He put a hand on hers with the intention of prying it off. Instead, images of those final moments flashed through his mind. Celine let go, eyes wide as she stepped back. When she looked him in the eye, he somehow knew she had seen the memory too.

"No… He can't be there alone. Mark is out there looking for him… Looking for you. Whatever sick game he's playing, he's not going to rest until he has Damien. You need to go back. Now!"

"How the bloody hell do you expect me to go back? I'm dead. I just told you that!"

"Death doesn't work the same way here! That house has some connection with a dark magic that I can't even begin to fathom. Whatever it is, it doesn't allow the souls of anyone who died here to move on." Celine reached out again. This time, she placed her index and middle fingers on the side of William's neck. "You're still alive. The pulse is weak, and you will likely be injured, but your body is still out there. That is why the darkness was hunting you. It wanted your body for itself. Whatever is out there, it's angry. Furthermore, that's why I couldn't let you in so easily. If it got in, it would have consumed them," she waved back to the Attorney. "I need to get you out of here. Get back to Damien, and protect him for me."

The guilt set in again. Was he really worthy of a second chance? William shook his head. "Take my body and go in my place. I'll stay here."

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?"

"I am. And I can't go back. Celine, everything that has happened here is my fault. I can't face Damien and know I'm the reason he's lost everyone he cares about."

Celine took another step back and bumped the bowl with her heel. "What do you mean?"

"I shot Mark through a rigged game of Russian Roulette that he claimed would help put the past behind us. Something switched the bullets. I left one in the gun, but there were four left after Mark was killed. No one would have believed such nonsense, especially not when the blasted Detective was after my head the whole time."

"Then Mark was right… He's out there looking for you. He has no idea you're here."

"But if he finds Damien first, he won't be able to defend himself from Mark. You need to be there for your brother. If I'm there, I'll be no better than a giant sign pointing to him."

"And what about me? I'm the woman he agreed to divorce amicably, then changed his mind the next day and kept me under surveillance." She turned to the Attorney, briefly considering them as the contender to go. "They're too weak to travel. They're only able to keep stable."

"A body might give them the protection to help them."

"It isn't that simple, William. Look what Mark did in his quest to possess them." She gestured for him to follow her back to the bedside. When she knelt, he did likewise. Her hands, cloaked in a pale blue glow, hovered over one of the Attorney's. Their hand had a soft green light, but it was the two circular marks that caught his eye. The wounds were barely the size of a water droplet each, with the dried remains of something black around the edges. They reminded William of a snake bite. "He tried to corrupt them with darkness from the inside. They've been able to fight it off, but it's weakening them. I don't know how far it will go. If they leave this cabin, they could be consumed whole by the darkness. I didn't heed their worries, and they paid the price."

William reached out and took the Attorney’s hand. A gentle squeeze was given in response as they opened their eye again. "You're a stubborn trooper. No wonder Damien always spoke so highly of you." It was the right thing to say, as their lips curled in a fond smile.

"That means one of us can go."

"And neither of us deem ourselves worthy of a second chance." William gruffly concluded.

"You promised Damien you'd always help him when you met him in the hospital."

"To me, helping him is reuniting him with his sister."

"He'd never forgive me if he knew I abandoned their friend here."

"He'd never forgive me if he knew I abandoned his sister!"

"Colonel -" A tap on the back of her hand interrupted Celine. The Attorney's eye was on her. They wanted to speak their piece first. It was a struggle with how weary they were, but they brought forth the idea that no one should stay with them. They were exhausted and only wanted to sleep. Damien needed all the help he could get. They both should go.

The idea resonated with William as he looked at Celine. "Can we do that? You have the ability to come here so we can check on them. We can keep working together if we stick as a team. Besides, I'm a strong guy. Two souls wouldn't be that heavy a burden."

"This might not work. It could change us if we get intercepted by those creatures."

The Attorney waved their hand and gestured to their head. If the pair made the journey back to William’s body inside the cabin, they would protect them with their own darkness.

Celine swallowed a lump in her throat. “But you -” The Attorney pulled themself up to sit on the bed. If all three of them could work together and save Damien, then they could sleep peacefully here. Despite their differences, wasn’t that the one thing they all had in common? Both William and Celine's arguments were based on what they believed was the right thing to do to help Damien, after all.

“They’re right,” William nodded, “and there’s more of us than Mark. Two heads to clunk together to get a good plan in one body would give us such an advantage!” The Attorney pointed excitedly to William. See? He got it! “And anyway, I don’t know magic like you do. Mark’s a magic user, remember? Look what he’s already done, for God's sake!”

“But -”

“Celine.” William reached over and firmly planted both hands on her shoulders. “Damien needs you. You’re the only one who can help him. I can't do this alone, not if Mark can do all this and more. Come with me. Please." Celine's head was bowed as William spoke. It was true. Damien was in danger and arguing over who went alone wasn't going to help. She nodded and put her hands on William's to lift them off.

"Then we better hurry. We don't have much time. If Mark learns that you’re here and not out there…" She didn't want to think about what might happen. William nodded. They had to go. She turned to the Attorney once she was on her feet. "Are you sure you'll be -" They quickly shook their head and shooed the pair with their hands. "Okay, okay. We're going. Ready?"

"Ready."

Celine gave a look to the Attorney. In response, they grinned and gave a thumbs up. They wouldn't be swayed, and they had William on their side. No matter how stubborn she was, she knew she was outnumbered. Raising both her hands toward William, she closed her eyes and began murmuring an incantation.

Around them, the cabin began to distort and bend. Only the three occupants and the bed were unaffected. The Attorney's one working eye darted from corner to corner, making sure that none of the shadows hid anything dangerous. Then, as William and Celine began to shift into light, they shot out their right hand. A wave of shadow burst out and wrapped around the pair like a protective bubble. Immediately after that, something large and dark burst forward through a twisted gap, only to collide with the barrier and turn to useless mist. Then, they both were gone, and the Attorney was left alone in the locked cabin.

Not that they minded. They knew Damien would be safe. It was enough peace to let them settle back down and go back to sleep.

Next Chapter

#writersofmark #who killed markiplier #wkm role swap #william the colonel #celine the seer #the district attorney #angst #body horror tw #body corruption tw #self harm tw

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colourme-feral · 1 year

Text

I posted 552 times in 2022

That's 552 more posts than 2021!

193 posts created (35%)

359 posts reblogged (65%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@respectthepetty

@smittenskitten

@moonlightchicken

@aprilblossomgirl

@kinnporschesource

I tagged 551 of my posts in 2022

#kinnporsche - 240 posts

#kinnporsche the series - 240 posts

#kinnporsche the filming locations - 61 posts

#vice versa - 59 posts

#vice versa the series - 58 posts

#a tale of thousand stars - 49 posts

#atots - 49 posts

#vice versa the locations - 45 posts

#the eclipse - 39 posts

#the eclipse the series - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#am i enjoying the fact that mangkorn currently doesn't have the upper hand? yeaaaaah maybeeeeee a bit too much 🤷🤷‍♀️🤷‍♂️

My Top Posts in 2022:

A little about the scene where Tankhun is burning joss paper for Pete:

This is not a funeral.

They are burning joss paper (also known as hell money) for Pete in the afterlife, whom we realise is still alive shortly after. I don’t know that much about the practice, but from what I do know, this is a form of ancestor worship, but it can also be done for family members or people you know who are dead. You only really do it if you care for the deceased.

The burning of the joss paper is meant to provide for the deceased in their afterlife, as well as to appease King Yama, who is the ruler of Hell. The items burnt are supposed to be replicas of what the living have.

The human effigies on the very right of the table are a replacement for living offerings, which were things like animals, but also humans. Over time, living offerings changed and they became replaced by things, such as grass and terracotta.

(An example of this is Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s unearthed tomb and the terracotta warriors, although evidence of living offerings were actually also found in the tomb. Sorry, I was a little obsessed with this for a while.)

See the full post

154 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

Wild thought: Does Korn allow two of his sons to do whatever they want because from his experience with his own brother, Karn, two members of the same family being in the business will cause problems, like the ones he's currently facing?

This would explain why he likely bought the win in Kinn's singing competition, back when Kinn was presumably still just the spare and Tankhun was still the heir to the mafia empire.

It then makes sense why he isn't pushing present day Tankhun or Kim to be in the business, since there's Kinn, who is his current heir. Korn chooses to let his oldest son be eccentric and youngest be a musician.

By allowing two of his sons to do things that have nothing to do with his empire, Korn is able to throw his support behind Kinn and when Kinn takes over, there won't be anyone supporting his brothers to take over instead, since neither has developed any ties or power in that world.

This completely solidifies Kinn's power and position as heir and also rids Kinn of the future potential power play that might arise amongst the brothers otherwise.

You could also argue that this move will also help the three brothers maintain their relationship, since they won't be fighting, like Korn and Karn are currently doing, but that's for another post.

157 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

Kinnporsche locations IRL

Kinnporsche: The boat which Porsche wakes up on after being kidnapped by Kinn and where Kinn tells him to be his bodyguard, but Porsche says he’d rather die.

IRL: Banyan Tree Bangkok’s dinner cruise boat

See the full post

162 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

Doing a casual SCOY rewatch and I noticed some filming locations that it shares with other Thai BLs (SCOY ep 1-5 so far)

SCOY and Bad Buddy

SCOY and Ghost Host Ghost House

See the full post

184 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Visually speaking, there’s so much call back here: They are on the boat that Kinn asked Porsche to be his bodyguard and in the background, is Wat Arun, where Kinn and Porsche first kissed on the pier and then ended their first date.

Of course, there’s also the fact that Tankhun is excited to be going out with his brother and his brother’s friends, which is completely different from the Tankhun in episode 2, who chose to stay away from people and not leave his home.

In the background is the bridge that Kinn and Big were being pursued, in the first episode, which lead him to Hum Bar (Yok’s Bar) and of course, to Porsche.

See the full post

249 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #oh wow who would have thought kinnporsche would dominate everything.#no one if you know me and how it was the exact reason i even started this side blog thanks to the show making me so feraaaaaaal #what a year thanks to everyone! it's been a really fun journey finding mutuals and sharing my new obsessions with you all #rude of op not to have more of my location sets in the tags. i am op lol

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trashpandato · 2 years

Text

Finding Something Special

It was starting to get dark, dark and cold. Okay, so maybe storming off into the woods by herself, in a different country no less, wasn’t the brightest idea she’d ever had. Kara sighed. She hoped that if she could get to a little clearing in the trees she could maybe get her bearings. All she needed was to be able to see that church tower, the main landmark of the town she was staying in.

So that was the plan for now: get to the clearing, see the church, head in that direction. And with a little luck she’d be back in the little vacation rental before midnight. Maybe she’d make it in time before Mike even noticed that she was gone.

Mike. Ugh. Just thinking about him made her pick up her speed, stomping harder against the soft forest path under her feet. He was such an idiot!

At first, he didn't want to come to Italy at all.

“It’s a little cliche, no?” he had said. “A little too ‘Eat, Pray, Love’. Isn’t that something for when you hit your midlife crisis?”

It had taken Kara months to convince him, to explain that she simply wanted to see the country, to maybe find a connection to parts of her family she only recently learned about.

“I know you’re not adopted, so maybe you don’t understand why I need to do this. I didn’t even know that my birth mother’s family is from Piedmont. And I know it’s unlikely that I’ll find anyone there who’s still alive, who’s related to me, but I still need to see it.”

After months of explaining and begging, Mike had finally relented. “Okay, but only if I get to rent a scooter and eat all the pizza I want.”

And rent a scooter he did. In fact, he rented it and drove away with the woman from the scooter rental business, presumably just to “get a lesson”, but when Kara walked down a picturesque small alley of the town hours later on her way to find some gelato, she found Mike and the woman leaning against the old stone wall of the church getting an entirely different kind of lesson.

That’s when Kara stormed off, walking and walking, until the town was far behind her and all she could see was trees, golden and red leaves covering the forest floor on a beautiful fall afternoon.

And now here she was, lost in that very same patch of forest, and it was getting so dark that for a moment, Kara wondered if she would even be able to see the church tower now once she got to the clearing. She knew she had no choice but to try, so she kept walking, even though she struggled to keep going as the strain of the day caught up with her. Her feet ached, her legs were sore. Apparently slip-on Vans weren’t a great choice for a prolonged hike. She was also only wearing a thin cotton sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, no jacket. That had been perfectly sufficient in the sun-drenched town earlier that day. Now, not so much.

It was then that she heard a rustling noise to her left. She stopped to listen more closely. At first she thought it was maybe just the wind moving through the fallen leaves. But when the noise didn’t stop and appeared to be coming closer and closer, Kara froze.

She knew from her research about Piedmont that this area had a few wild animals, mainly boar, and that they could be quite aggressive. She looked around, trying to make a plan for what she would do if she indeed came face to face with one. She knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun it, but maybe she could climb a tree? One of the trees behind her seemed sturdy enough that it should hold her weight and it had a few long-hanging branches that would allow her to climb up if needed.

The rustling noise came closer and closer and Kara walked backwards toward said tree, just in case. Her heart was thumping wildly, her hands felt sweaty despite the cold evening air. She listened and trained her eyes in the direction of the noise, straining to see in the fading light. Her mind flashed back to images of boar she had seen on the internet, but she had no real concept of how big they might be. Pigs could get very big, she knew that, so she had no doubt that she would face off with some large monster in a few seconds.

Staring straight ahead, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim conditions, she told herself she could handle whatever was about to happen. She always did. She was a survivor. And then, with the rustling louder than before, a dog came running around the bend toward her.

Kara let out a big breath and pressed a shaking hand against her chest in relief.

“Hi buddy,” she said as the dog, a friendly little Border Collie, barked a little and greeted her with some enthusiastic tail wagging, “you have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

She bent down and scratched the dog behind the ear, willing the adrenaline in her system to dissipate. She partially succeeded until —

“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my part of the woods?”

Kara jumped to her feet, startling the dog, and turned toward the angry voice. Based on the tone, she expected some gruff old Italian woman and she tried her best to remember the few Italian words she had learned for this trip, but when she spotted a young woman who was all sharp jaw and proud posture eying her suspiciously, all words died on her tongue.

“Um,” she stammered, her hand still scratching the dog who was sitting next to her. “I’m lost.”

The woman raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Ah. Let me guess. American tourist out for a walk and you couldn’t read the signs for how to get back to town?”

Read the rest on AO3

#supercorp #sc #kara x lena #featuring a heavy amount of Italian landscapes and food #i've clearly watched too much Stanley Tucci

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famderfries · 2 years

Note

here it is: my full page of ‘who killed markiplier’ notes !! i am going to watch the explaination stream eventually but for now ill just reference the wiki

AHHH OK OK I KNOW YOU SAID U CHECKED THE WIKI BUT IM GONNA SAY IT HERE ANYWAY.

1. Damien and Celine are twins, Celine is older.

2. The detective really said "Each of my partners have died, each one more tragic than the last. some in hilarious ways. youre my partner now lol" like u were GOING TO DIE

3. Celine throws you under the bus at the end of WKM. Damien is not aware you will be left behind, only that he trusts celine. you are not darkiplier. celine and damien are darkiplier (but celine is asleep. not dead. asleep)

3.5. In the split second in WKM where you reach for Damien's cane and you see the hand change from yours to dark's, THAT is when "Damien" takes place. When Dark looks up, the mirror shatters, and you are stuck in the mirror. and the mirror is your device's screen.

4. Abe is very gay. i love him. no lore here just homos

5. The Actor (Evil guy in the red robe) grew up with Will, Damien, and probably Celine. Celine had an affair with Will who had worked and lived with Actor at some point. Also the house is alive

6. the house is not like the rest of the world. The house, somehow, put in The Actor's mind that Celine leaving was her fault. Will's fault. Damien's fault, he should have stopped them. Anything that happened was Celines fault. Wills fault. At some point after Celine left him, he tried to take his own life by stabbing. and he woke up, presumably in the same place you wake up to find damien and celine. and because "Death does not mean the same thing (in the house)", he is still alive. he tries again. and again. and experiments. and he lives

So he meets with Will late at night, loads a gun, and gets him drunk. he shoots at him, and misses on purpose, telling will to do the same. Will shoots and hits him (the wine bottle also breaks at this point). The Actor dies, and waits in the "Upside Down" (what Mark calls the death area where damien and celine are), until Celine pushes too far, gets possessed, and somehow, She and Damien both end up in the Upside Down. The actor takes damiens body and leaves the house.

7. the scene with the Party foreshadows the entire thing. i dont remember exactly, but Damien does a keg stand and is stuck upside down, Everyone starts pointing fingers and no one is correct, the detective has a gun i think? and also damien is the only person who tries to help.

8. The house is just Marks Mind. Characters are only allowed to be what they have been writen. hence why Abe is such a stereotypical detective, with all the clichés, but as soon as hes pressed on details, he blanks. Wilford has had this realisation a long time ago, when he asks abe for the answers, hes not teasing him, hes trying to figure out where Abes mind is at. Wilford has known for a long time that the universe they live in doesn't make sense because hes lived in the house before. When time freezes and the frame changes colour and youre able to move around??? THAT how Will has been appearing out of no where.

9. At the end of "Damien", there is a sweeping shot of all the trees he's cut down. He cuts down 1 tree a day.

10. the explanation stream IS 11 hours long, but the actual explanation is like 4, theres time stamps in the comments somewhere.

11. no lore only homos part 2 but the homo is me. Damien <3

Uhhh not sure if thats it but i might add more later!! i am taking questions 😍😍

#god this is longer thsn i would have liked it to be.#tw suicide mention #tw suicude #apollo answers shit #chex tag #wkm update #long post #tw long post

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 1 year

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Together Part 2- Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Thorin Oakenshield x Sienna Hollyfoot

Description: The Battle of the FIve Armies nearly kills Thorin, but he’s a survivor. When he wakes up he wishes to have a word with his fiance.

Word Count: 2.2k

That fight was much longer than the previous ones. It felt like it lasted an eternity, and it only got more difficult when Bilbo was knocked out by Bolg while both Sienna and Dwalin were distracted. By the end of it she’d received a slashed cheek amongst other injuries, but thankfully that was the worst of it. She had no idea where Dwalin had gone, but she didn’t think about it as her focus was on Bilbo.

She rushed over to him, landing on her knees beside him. Carefully, she pressed a hand to his chest and lowered her head until it was just above his lips. He was still breathing, which she thanked the gods for. Now that she was sure he was alive, she sat up and carefully began shaking him.

“Bilbo, wake up,” she said urgently. It took a few minutes, but the Hobbit finally opened his eyes. He looked around confusedly before his gaze was directed towards the sky. Sienna had no time to say anything before she suddenly heard a bird’s screech above. She followed Bilbo’s line of sight, then smiled when she realized that the Great Eagles had arrived.

“The Eagles are coming,” the Hobbit muttered with a smile, sitting up. The girl nodded, then looked around before facing him.

“Come, we must find Thorin,”: she instructed urgently. They stood in unison and ran towards the river. There, they saw Azog on the ground, motionless with a sword sticking straight out of his gut. The Dwarf in question at the edge of the waterfall, but something didn’t feel right. Sienna’s brows furrowed in confusion, then her eyes widened when her fiance suddenly fell to the ground, grasping his gut.

“Oh Gods,” she gasped out, running over to him with Bilbo right behind her. “Thorin!” Just like with the Hobbit, she landed on her knees beside him, resting her hand on the hand that covered his gut. The King’s eyes opened weakly, examining both her and Bilbo.

“Sienna… Bilbo… I’m glad you’re here,” he trailed off slowly, lifting his free hand to Sienna’s cut cheek. “You’re hurt.”

“Don’t move,” the girl instructed quickly, taking his hand and lowering it to his side while still keeping a hold on it. “I’ll be fine. You need to lie still.” The Dwarf nodded, then his eyes landed on Bilbo.

“I wish to part from you in friendship,” Thorin muttered softly. His words brought tears to both Bilbo and Sienna’s eyes as the Hobbit shook his head.

“No. You are not going anywhere, Thorin. You’re going to live,” he said determinedly.

“I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate,” the King said, disregarding his friend’s words. “You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me...I was too blind to see. I’m so sorry that I have led you into such peril.” His plea was followed by him choking, presumably on blood.

“No,” the Hobbit soothed. “No, I’m glad to have shared in all your perils, Thorin - each and every one of them. And it’s far more than any Baggins deserves.” The duo shared a smile before Thorin spoke again.

“Farewell, Master Burglar. Go back to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees - watch them grow,” he paused as he struggled to choke. “If more people valued home above gold this world would be a merrier place.” His gaze fell on Sienna after that. Upon noticing the tears beginning to silently stream down her face, he squeezed her hand as best as he could.

“Take care of everyone for me. You will make a wonderful Queen to the people of Erebor,” he said softly. Sienna hiccupped emotionally and shook her head.

“I will be nothing without a King - without you by my side,” she whimpered.

“You will be fantastic, just like you always have been,” he whispered, growing weaker with each passing second. “I love you, Sienna Hollyfoot.”

“And I love you, Thorin Oakenshield,” she whispered back, lifting his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Thorin gasped deeply, then began to expire.

“Thorin, Thorin, wake up,” Bilbo muttered, trying to shake him awake. “The eagles...the eagles...the eagles are here. Thorin...the eag…” A small sob left Bilbo’s lips, but no noise could come out of Sienna. She instead just stared down at her fiance, numb.

Things were a blur for Sienna after that. She vaguely remembered one of the Eagles landing beside them, Gandalf atop it. He helped both her and Bilbo onto it and, once the bird took flight, it grabbed Thorin in its claws and flew back down towards Erebor. Once they arrived Thorin, Fili and Kili (who were in the claws of a second Eagle) were rushed to the Fairy healers that had offered their aid.

She broke down the second they said that all three of them would live. It was a miracle that he’d survived with his extensive injuries, but Fairy healing magic was powerful. Even with the tiniest amount of life left in someone, they would be able to live another day. But, he was still in a coma so his body could heal properly.

During that, Sienna (as the temporary monarch since she was courting the King), Balin (as Thorin’s advisor) and Dain went to meet with King Thranduil and Bard to discuss a treaty between the three kingdoms. In the end, an agreement was made; the Elves and Men would aid in the cleanup of the battlefield in exchange for a portion of the treasures that Erebor had to offer. While Bard wanted enough to help his people get back on their feet, Thranduil only wanted one thing from the massive amount of treasure: the White Gems of Lasgalen, a necklace that he had commissioned the Dwarves to make for his wife Aster. As long as these terms were met, there would be peace between Erebor, Mirkwood and Dale.

And everyone kept their promises. The bodies of Men, Elves and Dwarves alike were moved to be prepped for proper burials. Many burn piles were made from Orc bodies, which made them much easier to dispose of. The battlefield was cleaned up while Sienna, Balin and Dwalin oversaw that Thranduil and Bard were given the proper treasure that they had been promised.

“Please, let us know if there is anything else you need,” Sienna said with a sincere smile while Thranduil, Aster, Bard and Roslyn stood in front of them, ready to head to their respective homes.

“We thank you for your generosity in aiding us while we cleaned the battlefield,” Balin spoke from beside her.

“The same could be said to you for allowing us to stay and regroup before we left,” the Elven King responded with a polite smile.

“When King Thorin wakes up we can discuss deals about trade between us,” Bard concluded with a single nod. “Until then, we bid you farewell.” Sienna and Balin stood side by side at the front of the kingdom, watching the army of Mirkwood follow their King and Queen as well as Bard and Roslyn walk back to Dale just across the way.

Once they were all gone, the duo got back to work. They had to prepare the kingdom for the influx of returning Dwarves, all eager to return to their homes. Dis was part of the first group to arrive, and she was more than happy to learn that not only were her sons going to be okay, but her brother was alive after everything that happened.

It was a joyful day when the young Princes woke up. Fili was the first to wake up as his injuries weren’t as intense, and Dis, Sienna and Celeste were right by his side. He was more than happy to find that his uncle and brother weren’t dead and his fiance was okay. Kili woke up just three days later, where he was greeted by his mother, brother, aunt and Nessa, who he had a wonderful reunion with.

Thorin was the last to wake up. It had been a week since Kili had awakened and he, Fili, Balin and Sienna were hard at work in helping rebuild the kingdom. Sienna was in Nessa’s room (which she had been given when she and Kili began courting) sitting with the Elf in question when a knock suddenly came from the door.

“Come in,” Nessa called. The duo watched as the door opened and in walked Fili, looking like he’d just run here. Both women were understandably confused by the sight, but Nessa was the first one to speak.

“Fili? What is it?” The boy looked at the two of them, though his eyes were specifically trained on Sienna.

“Thorin’s awake.” Those two words were enough to put Sienna into a frenzy. She stood up immediately, then remembered she was in the middle of a conversation. She looked to Nessa, but the Elf spoke before she could say anything.

“Go to him,” the blonde said with a knowing grin. “You’ve waited long enough.” Sienna barely had time to offer her a grateful smile before she was out the door. She practically sprinted to the King’s bedroom, ignoring the odd looks she received from passersby. Once she arrived at the door she stopped. After taking a minute to compose herself by smoothing out her hair and dress, she took a deep breath and lifted a hand to knock on the door.

“Come in,” a voice she recognized as Oin’s called from the other side. She carefully grabbed the brass handle of the door and pushed the heavy door open.

As she suspected, she was met with Oin sitting at Thorin’s bedside. Much to her delight, she noticed that the King was half sitting up/ half laying down. He looked much better than the last time she saw him. Most of the color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes were that same brilliant blue that she remembered. Both pairs of eyes landed on her after hearing the door open, and a smile appeared on Oin’s face.

“Ah, Sienna,” he greeted, standing up and making his way over to her. “I see your cheek has healed nicely.” He gestured to her cheek, which had received a nasty cut in battle. Like the older Dwarf noted, the injury had almost fully faded aside from a faint scar that likely wouldn’t go away according to Oin. She smiled and nodded.

“It has. That salve you gave me worked wonders,” she responded somewhat distractedly as her gaze automatically moved to Thorin once again. Oin seemed to understand that they needed some time alone, so he quietly excused himself and walked out, quietly closing the door behind him. Once it was just the two of them, Sienna lifted the bottom of her dress and moved to sit in the chair Oin originally sat in.

“Hello Thorin,” she greeted gently.

“You’re here,” he muttered weakly. The surprise in his tone made the girl laugh softly as she grabbed his hand and leaned closer to him.

“Of course I am,” she responded in a soft voice.

“After everything I’ve done…” he trailed off. Sienna understood what he was saying. A small smile appeared on her face.

“I feel no ill will for what you said before the battle, for you were under the influence of the Dragon Sickness. Balin told me what may happen when we reached the treasure, and so I knew not to take anything you said to heart,” she explained.

“Balin tells me that I made you cry,” he pointed out, sounding guilty. “When you and Dwalin got back from trying to reason with me, he tells me that you cried into Kili’s shoulder until I showed up.

“You cannot blame yourself for how you acted when you weren’t in your right mind,” she shook her head with a sympathetic look. “I knew that, logically, it wasn’t truly you saying what you said, but it was the fact that it was your voice saying it. That is what upset me, and that is what made me cry. But don’t think for a second that I would not stay beside you no matter what you say or do. ‘Wherever you go I will follow,’ that’s what we agreed to when I joined your Company.” And whether you like it or not, I am sticking to my word because I love you.” Her words looked like they comforted him based on the smile he offered her once she finished speaking.

“I love you too.” The couple shared a fond smile after he answered her. Sienna carefully leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he gladly reciprocated. Once they pulled away, their foreheads came to rest against each other’s and they basked in each other’s presence for who knows how long. Because they deserved that much.

They had dealt with many hardships up to this point. It wasn’t an easy quest and there were several times where they believed that they wouldn’t survive it. But they did, and they did it together. And now? They would continue to do everything together because that’s how they did it best. And they were happy with it.

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin x oc

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 78: Two Steps Back

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 10 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: scary situation, mild swearing, violence ❧ Word Count: 7.3k

❧ In This Chapter: Daryl seems to fall behind every step of the way on his search for you, but an indication of your survival is enough to keep him going, and an enemy proves his loyalty, despite Daryl's hesitation to trust him.

❧ A/N: Poor Daryl is going t h r o u g h it, but he's trying his best. Can you imagine having to fight an all-out war against thousands of zombies, searching for/grieving your missing/presumed dead wife, all while being a father to a six-year-old and an adoptive father to a sixteen-year-old? Not to mention he almost died like a day ago, and now he has to deal with Negan. Ugh. Our man needs some sweet lovin', that's for sure... (Is that me hinting at a smut chapter coming soon??? Idk, maybe... probably. He deserves it. Reader deserves it.)

“I’ve gotta find them,” you said, nearly breaking off from Magna’s grip.

“No!” she whisper-yelled, tugging you back beside her as the two of you walked amongst the dead, getting closer and closer to the gates of the Hilltop.

The moment you saw the flames, the smoke filling the air and turning the blackness of night into a sinister, red-tinged brown, you knew your people were in more trouble than they had even realized.

It appeared the Whisperers, behind the horde, had launched makeshift balloons filled with flammable liquid, sending them hurtling towards the Hilltop’s army and dousing them in what you eventually confirmed to be tree sap, based on the piney scent in the air as you inched closer to the settlement.

Arrows alight with flames soon followed, soaring through the air and igniting the sap until you could hear the screams of those on the frontlines, set on fire and burning alive.

The closer the horde got, the more the fire spread, and soon the walls and the Barrington House were ablaze.

When you saw the skeleton of the structures beginning to show, framed by the silhouettes of the restless flames, you couldn’t pretend to be in that herd any longer.

You had initially hoped Daryl, Robin, and Aaron were there, knowing Daryl would want to be a part of the fight to defend Hilltop. You had hoped maybe you would reunite with them there, but now, you only hoped they were as far away from there as possible, seeing as the place was one flaming arrow away from hellfire.

“They might be in there!” you whisper-yelled back, still trying not to alert the walkers around you to your living state.

“We’re not separating,” Magna replied.

You huffed and looked around in a panic, desperately searching for Daryl. It was hard to see beyond the bobbing heads of the rotting corpses all around you, but as the crowd began to thin the closer you got to the gates, you could see the shadows of Hilltop’s army, scattering now as they retreated behind the walls.

Walkers engulfed in flames moved like walking matches through the gate, which could no longer be held against them.

As the walkers began to scatter, and you and Magna crossed the threshold into the fallen gates of Hilltop, you made your decision, against what you had told Magna. But then, that was before you saw the destruction of Hilltop, before you could even comprehend your family being caught in the conflagration.

“I have to find them,” you said, and let go of Magna’s hand for the first time in several hours. “I have to.”

She shook her head, her blood-covered face now contorted in worry. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

“I already look dead,” you said, half-heartedly joking before you turned away.

Finding an opening in the herd, you pushed past the lumbering bodies, plunging the blade of your axe into the heads of those that lunged towards you.

Immediately as you emerged from the herd, you called out into the hot night air, baked and sweltering from the surrounding fires that tore down the infrastructure of the Hilltop.

There were so many names you wanted to call out, so many people you cared about who you needed to find, but the name of the most defenseless one came out of your wide open lips almost instinctively.

“Robin! Robin!”

You cried her name until your throat became scratchy and dry, inhaling ash and smoke while your vision was obscured by the opaque clouds of grey all around you.

You weren’t sure if you were hearing voices again, but you could’ve sworn you heard her call out to you in the distance.

“Mommy!” she cried.

“Robin, no!” Ezekiel called out to the small girl, who had let go of Gracie’s hand as she ran off into the smoke, her spear in hand and her mind set on finding her mother, whose voice she knew better than anyone else’s, besides her father’s. She’d heard that voice, muffled and distant, when she was in your womb, and she heard it again now, this time more frightened and filled with worry as you searched for your baby.

You turned in circles, all the while moving towards the direction of her voice, and fending off stray walkers who came close to you. Your pace increased to a jog when you realized there wasn’t much time left to stay here, that the whole place was going to become overwhelmed with flames in just a matter of time.

“Robin! Daryl!”

If your mind hadn’t deceived you, and Robin really was there, calling out to you, you only hoped her father was with her.

Your heart and your feet stopped when she emerged from a swirling plume of smoke, her once white dress soiled by soot, and her face frozen in awe at the sight before her—her mother, soaked in blood, wearing torn and tattered clothing that exposed your scraped skin. It was impossible to tell what blood was yours and what blood belonged to the walkers, but the child could never fail to recognize that face.

“Mommy!”

She barrelled towards you, dropping her spear and running into your arms before clinging tightly to you as you held her, too, rocking her back and forth in your arms as you cried. Tears cut through the crimson stains on your cheeks, as their force was almost strong enough to wash away the evidence of your ordeal.

“Oh,” you sighed, tangling your hands in her hair whilst almost unconsciously brushing through its soft brown tresses. “My sweet baby girl… Thank God you’re all right.”

Despite your instinctive urge to hold her for as long as you could, the two of you were exposed, in the middle of a battlefield, soon to be a graveyard. If you didn’t get out of here now, you might never get out.

“Robin,” you said, holding her by her shoulders as you looked her seriously in the eyes, “where’s your father and your uncle?” It was strange to see the child without either of the two men, or at least with someone you trusted. Most of all, though, it was unlike Daryl at all to leave her alone in such a dangerous situation, so you feared the unspeakable.

She looked around frantically. “I—I dunno… Daddy went out to fight, Aaron w-was, too. They told us to go with Ezekiel. He’s going to take us to the meeting place.”

You nodded in understanding, though you feared for their whereabouts. Still, Robin’s safety was of the utmost priority now, as she still was so little. At least Daryl and Aaron could defend themselves, you surmised. “You were with Ezekiel?”

She nodded in affirmation, and you held her cheeks to keep her fixated on you, instead of the increasingly tall flames that surrounded her. “Listen to me,” you said. “I’m taking you back to Ezekiel.”

“N-no,” she said with a pout. “I’m staying with you.”

The ground shook just then, causing you to bring Robin close to you and hold her in your arms as you shielded her from the wrath of whatever explosion had just occurred. Lifting your head, you saw the flames engulf the last structure of the wall, and out of the corner of your eye was not Ezekiel but Earl Sutton, wrangling the other children and looking around as he called out Robin’s name.

“Run to Earl!” you said. “Now!”

“But what about you and Daddy?!”

You looked quickly between her and the group of children, about to disappear in another cloud of smoke.

“I’m going to find your father,” you said shakily. “I’m going to find him, and your uncle, and everyone else…” You removed your hand from around hers to unclasp the chain of your necklace, the one Robin had never seen you take off—not once. You quickly bunched up the chain and the amethyst into a ball, and tucked the necklace into the pocket of Robin’s yellow windbreaker, her astute blue eyes following your movements all the while.

“If you get there before me,” you said, “and your father is there, but I’m not, you give this to him, okay?”

She shook her head in confusion. “We stay together… Dixon’s stay together.” She gestured to the bracelet on your left wrist, and your eyes followed as she traced the letters with her finger.

“They do,” you agreed. “This is how we stay together. Apart for now. No more arguing.” You grabbed her spear and curled your hands around hers as you placed it back in her hand. “You give Daddy my necklace, and tell him I will find him, that I will meet you there, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, and looked off towards Earl and the children before giving you one last hug.

“Don’t be afraid,” you said, and sent her off to join Earl, watching her hand clasp around Gracie’s as the children followed the old man over the rubble of the fallen walls.

As soon as their figures faded from view, you turned to fight off more walkers, covering more ground as you searched through the chaos for Daryl and Aaron, or anyone. You were going to stay until the last possible moment. Ideally, you were going to stay until you found your husband.

“Daryl!” you cried out at the top of your lungs, dodging walkers left and right as you moved through them. “Daryl!”

You looked up and huffed when the herd became too congested, and it became abundantly clear that this was your last chance to leave, if you hadn’t already lost it.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, not without him. You had to know he was all right, now that you knew Robin was.

“Daryl!” you cried desperately, your voice drenched in frightened tears as the realization dawned on you: you were not going to find Daryl tonight, not in this chaos. “Somebody!”

It had appeared that you were the only one left, at least, in your immediate field of vision. No signs of life, like the hellish surface of Venus. The only movement came from the walkers coming towards you, cornering you against the last piece of wall, as far as you could tell.

Exhaustion finally caught up with you, sending your body into a disoriented state of dizziness and fatigue. You clutched your neck, feeling the emptiness there, as for the first time, you couldn’t feel your geode hanging from your neck, and without it, you felt completely and utterly alone.

Sinking lower and lower as you succumbed to exhaustion and defeat, your gaze focused on a particularly close walker, one whose jaws gnashed violently as it ambled towards you. It seemed this creature would be the first to take a bite out of you, until a familiar fighting stick was driven through its head from behind.

As the lifeless body sank to the ground, you laid eyes on Lydia, who quickly rushed to your side, slinging your arm around her shoulders and lifting you up with her.

Images became fuzzy then as Lydia fought through the small herd to get the two of you out of there, but you distinctly remembered the last image of the Hilltop, its entire structure now shadows engulfed by bright orange flames, and the black silhouettes of walkers accenting the scene as the dead took another victory.

Lydia led the two of you towards the rendezvous, the both of you hanging onto each other as she limped and you struggled to retain consciousness. At some point, you let go of her and let yourself fall to the forest floor, her falling soon after.

“Wh-where are we?” you asked, the brightness of the morning light still so new to you as you squinted your eyes to look around.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” panted Lydia. “We’ve been walking for miles.”

“Are we close?”

“Maybe another mile,” she said, looking around to assess the surroundings. “We’re close.”

You huffed and shakily rose to your feet, though Lydia leaned forward to stop you, pulling you down urgently. “No,” she said. “You need to rest.”

“We need to… find them,” you panted. “Daryl…” You sat back down, looking seriously into Lydia’s eyes as the memory of desperately calling out his name in all the chaos returned to you. “D-did you see Daryl? Did… Did he go down? I saw Robin, but Daryl wasn’t with her. Did something happen to him?”

Lydia shook her head as she searched her memories, though she couldn’t recall seeing Daryl go down. The last she saw of him, he was wielding a morning star, slaying walkers with impressive brutality, but that was before the flames.

“I—I lost him,” she said. “I don’t know what happened… The flames, the smoke… Made it so hard to see. I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

You leaned forward and held your head in your hands, rocking back and forth as you tried to keep the geyser of frustration inside you from exploding.

“I was so close,” you said, almost talking to yourself at this point. “I should’ve gone with Robin… Made sure the kids were all right. I just… I just had to find him.”

Lydia nodded as she bit her lip. “He was trying to find you too,” she said. “After the cave, he went looking for another way in. H-he ran into Alpha. She nearly killed him.”

You raised your head to look at her, your blood now boiling at the idea of her laying a hand on him, much less hurting him. “What did she do?”

“She cut him up pretty bad,” she replied. “Drove a knife into his leg. Almost hit a major artery… I found him, then we went back to Hilltop. That was… yesterday, I guess.”

You palmed at your forehead, wracking your brain as you realized that it had only been two days since the mine caved in. It felt more like an eternity to you.

“I have to find him, Lydia,” you said. “And Robin, and Aaron…”

Lydia nodded in understanding, touching your knee in an attempt to soothe you. It was an odd gesture for the girl to display, but it was a welcome one.

“We’ll get there,” she said. “They’ll be there. Let’s just—”

A rustling of leaves alerted Lydia to the intruder, whose body was still obscured as they passed through the dense forest. You rose up with her, raising your axe and preparing to drive it through the skull of any walker or Whisperer that might’ve been lurking nearby.

The last thing you were expecting to see was the tall, lanky, leather-clad figure of Negan emerging from the trees.

“Negan,” you huffed, at first in slight amusement at his rather sudden appearance, but then in utter horror at the petrified skin mask in his hand, which dropped to the ground the second you saw it. “Jesus.”

It made horrible sense—Negan had escaped and joined up with the Whisperers. He must’ve been able to help them fight against the Hilltop, and in a sudden impulse of rage, you raised your axe again before he lunged towards you, knocking the weapon from your exhausted grip and pushing you down.

Lydia reacted quickly, attempting to hit Negan with her fighting stick, but he had managed to come behind her, grabbing her and forcing the staff from her hands.

“Stop,” he said, in perhaps the most serious, threatening tone you had ever heard from the man. You weren’t sure if that was a bad sign, or a good one. Whenever he was doing something truly sinister, he was doing it with a smile. Now, you weren’t sure what his plan was. “Sorry, kid. This shit is done.”

You struggled to get up, dizzy in your state of utter exhaustion. Still, you crawled to Negan’s legs as he started walking away with Lydia in tow.

Grabbing his ankle, you did the only thing you knew to do in that moment: you bit his leg.

“Ah! Shit!” he cried out, and delivered a forceful kick to your face, knocking you out in an instant. He let out an amused scoff as Lydia continued to squirm in his arms. “Damn, (Y/N),” he said. “You’re just as freaky as I thought you’d be.”

In some other part of the woods, not too far from where you had been knocked out by Negan’s steel-toed boot, the disoriented Ezekiel was leading the very worried Daryl and Jerry to where he had hoped Earl had taken the children the night before, when he determined he wouldn’t be able to lead them out himself.

Daryl hadn’t found any of the children at the rendezvous point, which worried him greatly, and sent him into a fresh wave of panic mode, of the fatherly variety.

“It’s right up here,” said Ezekiel, gesturing towards the dilapidated shack just up ahead.

Daryl moved slowly, unsheathing his knife and side-stepping towards the door before pushing it open, fully expecting a hungry walker to appear, but hoping for the children of the Hilltop and Alexandria to emerge instead.

“Daryl!” he heard his niece, Gracie, cry out, and soon a handful of familiar children were scrambling out of the disgusting shack.

He huffed in relief, ushering out each child by their shoulders as he mentally took note of each one, making sure they were all accounted for like a teacher on a field trip.

“Hey, buddy,” he said to RJ, who greeted his uncle with a hug.

Judith came out next, hugging Daryl before joining the other adults.

Robin beamed widely, jumping into her father’s arms and kissing his cheek. He sighed in deep relief, and lifted her up with a grunt, all the while rocking her back and forth as he hoisted her up. She was getting a little too big to hold her the way he did when she was just a toddler, but he’d hold her like that until he physically couldn’t anymore.

He could rest somewhat easily now, while Robin literally fell asleep on his back, her arms and legs dangling as he held her in place for the piggyback ride all the way to the official rendezvous point.

There, most of the survivors had regrouped, with the exception of Carol, Eugene, and Yumiko, but there was hope they’d show up soon. Daryl was dreading having to confront Carol, which was why he had been mostly ignoring her all day yesterday, though now that the survivors were in such close quarters, it would be hard to ignore.

The rendezvous point was simply a small house in the middle of the woods, but it was obscure enough to be safe as long as someone was watching the perimeter, which Daryl was just about to do after tucking in the sleeping Robin upon an old pile of clothes in the bedroom he had made into a kind of bed for the girl.

She stirred in his arms as he laid her down, and blinked her cerulean colored eyes open until she smiled at Daryl.

“Go back ta sleep,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m gonna watch the perimeter.”

Robin shook her head and tugged on Daryl’s wrist for his attention, then turned serious as she recalled her promise to her mother.

“I saw Mommy last night,” she said.

Daryl tilted his head and felt himself begin to tear up again, simply at the idea that Robin had seen her.

He knew now that grief and exhaustion could lead a person to see strange things, so maybe she had just seen the apparition of you, too.

“I’ve seen ‘er too, peanut, but she ain’t really there… It’s like… a magic trick. Your mind’s doin’ magic tricks on ya. You miss ‘er. I miss ‘er too. So much.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, Daddy. I saw Mommy. And she was really there, right in front of me. She talked to me.”

He swallowed hard, holding back his tears. “Wh-what’d she say?”

“She asked me where you and Uncle Aaron were. I told her you were fighting, and then I told her we’d all meet at the meeting spot. She wouldn’t go with me ‘cause she wanted to find you first.”

As she reached down to her coat pocket, she recalled your specific instruction to her, even if she still didn’t quite understand why you gave it to her.

“She told me to give you this.”

Wrapped up in the ball of her fist was your necklace, revealed when she unfurled her hand. The amethyst’s recognizable shape and hue, unique and without any possible replica, immediately sent a chill down his spine.

It didn’t seem real in any sense of the word, how you could’ve given that to her if you were still in that cave. Of course, he soon realized, you weren’t in that cave, but you were alive, and you had been at Hilltop.

“Sh-she… She gave this to you?”

Robin nodded, watching her father cradle the gem in his hands as the light from the window reflected off the crystal and onto his face. Dancing shapes of light caressed his scarred, tired face, illuminating features that now seemed much more youthful, as he did whenever you were around.

There wasn’t any other explanation, despite how it seemed like such a thing couldn’t be explained at all. There was no other way Robin could’ve gotten a hold of your necklace; you had been wearing it in the cave, as you always did. Daryl only saw you take it off to shower or to go to bed, but everyday you put it back on, along with your wedding ring, and the bracelet Robin made for you. Those accessories were practically a part of your body now.

So his heart skipped several beats, and his face curled into a strange smile, one of utter delirium as the realization flooded over him: you were alive.

At least, you were alive last night, when, somehow, you were in the Hilltop, looking for Robin… looking for him.

You must’ve had the foresight to know that Daryl would need the evidence to prove you were alive, that you were searching for him, so you gave your most prized possession to Robin, hoping it would reach you if you didn’t reach him first.

“She’s… She’s alive,” he said shakily. He cleared his throat gently as a lump formed there, just another word away from bursting.

“I told you so,” Robin replied.

Daryl shook his head as he was brought back down to reality, now with more motivation than ever to get you back.

“Did she say anythin’ else? Where she’d be? Did you see where she went?”

Robin bit her lip in thought. “She said she’d find us, that she’d meet us here.”

That worried Daryl, considering most of the survivors were now here, with the exception of you, and Lydia, too. Not only that, but soon you’d all return to Alexandria, and he wasn’t willing to risk waiting.

“Listen ta me,” he said, tucking Robin under the blanket he’d found. “I’m gonna go find Momma. Now we know she’s out, I can track ‘er.”

“Lydia too?”

He nodded. “Lydia too.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You just rest now. You’re safe.” He bundled up the cord of the necklace and attempted to tuck it back into her pocket, but she fussed, pushing his hand away.

“You keep it,” she said. “So you can give it back to Mommy when you find her.”

Daryl smiled at her sweet gesture, and brushed aside her messy bangs to plant one more kiss upon her forehead. “Be good while I’m gone,” he said. “I’ll meet you back at home.”

Thus he began on his trek, retracing his own steps back to the ruins of the Hilltop, and trying to separate individual tracks from the others.

Luckily, he knew your tracks better than anyone else’s, having known the pattern of the soles of the shoes you were wearing. It helped that he shared a closet with you, and thus had intimate knowledge of most of your clothing.

Sure enough, he found them, alone at first, but soon accompanied by another recognizable shoeprint—Lydia’s.

It was a lucky break, both because it killed two birds with one stone, and because it meant you weren’t alone in the woods.

He followed the tracks for a while until yours stopped abruptly in one spot, and Lydia’s were joined by another set of prints he didn’t recognize, but the fact that they were much bigger than either yours or Lydia’s prints was worrisome.

Not only that, but in the spot where your tracks seemed to disappear, there was a slight indentation in the leaves, indicating you had fallen there, but your body was nowhere to be found.

His mind immediately began to race, his head turning frantically as he tried to make sense of the whole scene, hoping not to come to the conclusion he dreaded above all else.

The worst-case scenario was that someone had attacked you and Lydia, killing you and dragging Lydia away. But then, there wasn’t much sign of a struggle, and he knew you would’ve put up more of a fight if you thought your life was in danger, which led him to wonder if you knew the person who took Lydia, and if he only knocked you out.

The area was also muddied up by other tracks he had discovered, which seemed to intersect with where your body was. Initial fears pointed to the possibility that a walker had found your unconscious body, but Daryl soon convinced himself that the tracks were definitely not those of a walker, but of another person, separate from the other tracks.

This lead was hard to follow, though, as the tracks were not as clear-cut as those of Lydia and the person who’d taken her. Though he was desperate to find you now, to help you if you were in trouble, he knew his best bet of finding you was with Lydia and whoever had taken her, who Daryl was beginning to realize was, in all likelihood, Negan.

So he followed the trail diligently, keeping his eyes peeled all the while until he came upon a long-abandoned cabin. The tracks led right up to the door, but he huffed in frustration when he kicked open the door, crossbow at the ready, to find nothing but an empty room, and an empty chair where it appeared Lydia had been tied up.

“Shit,” he said, lowering his crossbow and palming his forehead in frustration.

It seemed he was constantly one step behind in his search, missing you and Lydia at every point he had seemed to be getting closer to finding you. Now that Negan’s tracks seemed to overlap with the ones he had initially followed, he had no other plan of action but to simply wait for Negan to return, hoping he left Lydia alone briefly.

Not twenty minutes later, Negan did appear, coming through the door as Daryl hid in the corner, crossbow ready and nostrils flared in anger just at the sound of the insufferable man’s footsteps on the front porch.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said as he opened the door. “Sorry ab-.” He must’ve just noticed Lydia was gone, as he had the same reaction to the empty chair that Daryl did. “Shit.”

As if he was being controlled only by his most primal instincts, he didn’t waste another moment before lunging forward and hitting Negan with the base of his crossbow, sending him reeling and grunting in pain as he held his face.

“Agh!” he groaned. “God!”

Daryl lunged forward, pointing his loaded crossbow directly at Negan’s neck as he backed up against the wall, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Where’s (Y/N)?!” he bellowed, a little unsure why he was asking Negan, since he probably didn’t know, but desperate for answers, and just about at the end of his tether now that Negan was involved. “Where’s my wife?!”

“Look,” said Negan, in that serious, almost frightened tone of his, “whatever Lydia told you—”

“Where is she?!”

Negan huffed before speaking again, then shook his head in genuine ignorance. “I left her in the woods,” he said, and flinched when the sharpened point of Daryl’s bolt came dangerously close to his skin. “She’s alive,” he quickly said. “I—I knocked her out… But it was an accident. If she’s not where I left her, I don’t know where she is.”

Daryl glowered and let out a deep rumble in anger. “She ain’t there,” he said. “Think somebody took ‘er.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“Why should I trust you? You’re in with them now, huh?”

Negan swallowed hard. “Not anymore,” he said. “Alpha… I killed her.”

“You liar.”

“I am not lying,” he replied. “I have something in my pocket, it’s not a weapon. I am slowly gonna reach for it.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes in impatience, though he was ready to hold that crossbow up to Negan’s neck for an eternity if he had to.

Negan reached slowly into the inner lining of his leather jacket, and revealed Alpha’s mask, unfolding it before Daryl.

“Her mask ain’t ‘er head,” he said.

“Oh, I know, I am getting to that.”

He jolted his crossbow again. “Then get to it.”

“The whole reason I threw in with them, was so I could get close enough to Alpha to slit her throat. Now, you talk about silencing the Whisperers, I silenced the Alpha… Why the hell else do you think Carol let me out of that cell?”

It wasn’t hard to believe, but he still felt betrayed by Carol once again. She’d lied so much he couldn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, and he could probably throw her pretty far, but not far enough.

“The head’s on a spike. Carol put it there,” he continued. “On one of her borders. I can take you there, but you’ve gotta trust me.”

Daryl scoffed. He wasn’t really willing to trust anyone today. Still, he faced a dilemma: continue looking for you, or see if Negan was telling the truth about Alpha.

Seeing as he couldn’t let Negan out of his sight now, he would have to wait until he could look for you again, as letting Negan go was too much of a risk.

“You walk in front of me,” he said, grabbing Negan’s shoulder and turning him around to begin tying his wrists with one of the ropes left behind upon Lydia’s chair. “So’s I can keep an eye on you.” He pulled the rope tight, eliciting a pained grunt from Negan. He growled into his ear, “You make one wrong move, or look at me any way I don’t like, I’ll kill ya. Real slow… There ain’t no bars or guards out here keepin’ you safe now.”

An hour or so into following Negan towards the border, Daryl wished he gagged him.

The man talked more than Aaron, which was saying something. At least Daryl liked Aaron. Negan was Daryl’s textbook definition of a piece of shit, and he was already beginning to lose patience as he followed closely behind him, watching his every move as they trudged through the woods.

“This whole ‘follow the leader’ routine, it’s kinda dejavu for me. It’s the same way it went down with Alpha.” Negan looked back to see if Daryl was paying any attention to him, but was met with the man looking back and forth, peering through the trees in search of something, not paying the slightest bit of attention to whatever bullshit Negan was spewing.

“You know,” he said, “I get it, all right. You’re pissed your gal pal didn’t let you in on the plan.”

“Nobody asked you,” he replied gruffly.

“Look, I’m pissed, too. Lone wolves, they’re not thinkin’ about the pack.”

“Maybe I’m pissed ‘cause of Hilltop,” Daryl replied, letting his anger seep through his tone as he tried to remain relatively calm. “Whole bunch of children almost died ‘cause of you.”

Negan stopped, sighing as turned to face Daryl. “How’s Robin?”

Daryl narrowed his eyes and tightened the grip on the strap of his crossbow.

“Misses ‘er mother… Might’ve found her by now if it weren’t for you.”

Negan bowed his head and was about to speak, but Daryl pushed his chest, forcing him forward as he stumbled a little over his feet.

“Keep walkin’.”

“I just needed the girl,” said Negan as he walked. “(Y/N) wasn’t supposed to be there.”

“So you were just gonna hand Lydia off to Alpha? Let ‘er kill her own daughter?”

Negan sighed. “No… I killed her before she could. Was gonna take Lydia back to Alexandria. That shit didn’t work out.”

“All’s I know is,” said Daryl, “if that head ain’t on that spike, I’m gonna kill you.”

Night had fallen by the time they made it to the border, where spikes lined the imaginary beginning of Whisperer land.

Negan approached one bloodied spike, Daryl following behind, raising his crossbow and breathing deep, angered breaths when he realized the spike was headless.

Negan let out a strained huff. “It was right here, I swear to God,” he said, “it was on that spike.”

Daryl raised his crossbow to the base of Negan’s head, ready to shoot any second if he didn’t like Negan’s explanation.

“Look, we, uh… We sit here, we can wait for Carol. Or I can take you to find the—” He turned around and lowered his eyes at the bolt pointed directly at him. “Oh, come on, man. We’re talkin’ about Lydia here. Why would I stash her out in banjo country unless the whole point was to keep her safe? Unless the whole freaking point was just to use her as bait so I could get Alpha alone?”

“You sure took your sweet-ass time though, didn’t ya?”

“What is with you guys thinking I didn’t do it fast enough? You didn’t kill her, I did. It took a minute. I had to get her to trust me. Because I wasn’t on some half-cocked suicide mission.”

“Nah,” said Daryl. “It’s because you liked it.”

Before Negan could even answer, the cocking of a gun and the movements of several bodies emerging from the dark came in the periphery.

The sawed-off, double-barrelled shotgun was pointed at Daryl, in the hands of a Whisperer, while the other two stood around beside him.

Shit, thought Daryl, looking out of the corner of his eye at the three Whisperers who had ruined his intention of dramatically killing Negan once and for all.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t fantasized about killing him, and he had the perfect opportunity, but now, he was outnumbered.

He dropped his crossbow to the ground and raised his hands midway, somewhat reluctant to do so.

“Alpha’s dead,” said the Whisperer with the gun, who nudged his head towards Negan. “Because of you.” Negan sighed, realizing he, too, was in trouble.

“We kneel,” announced the Whisperer. “To the new Alpha.”

Negan moved his head in confusion as he watched the other two Whisperers kneel upon the ground, facing Negan.

He broke out into a surprised chuckle, as Daryl lowered his hands and scoffed. You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.

The Whisperers got to work removing Negan’s ties and replacing them around Daryl’s wrists, then patted him down to remove any weapons from his person.

He grumbled at the feeling, always hating people touching him, especially to be frisked. It always made him feel like he was being booked into the county jail for a drunk and disorderly, or a bar fight, or something to do with Merle’s drug dealing.

Needless to say, he didn’t like it, and he certainly didn’t like looking at Negan’s smug face, watching with the utmost amusement.

“Ah,” he sighed. “Sorry, man. I am, uh… I’m just savoring the moment.” He leaned down to pick up Alpha’s mask, which had been plucked from Daryl’s pocket and thrown upon the ground. “Takin’ my sweet-ass time. All right, fellas, first order of business…”

He turned his attention to the Whisperer holding the shotgun pointed at Daryl.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” he said. “One goddamn minute. I’m supposed to be the Alpha, right? I mean, the only reason I’m asking is I’m a little bit confused. If I’m the Alpha, why is someone who is most definitely not the Alpha holding the badass shotgun?”

The Whisperer looked almost comically confused, alternating his gaze between the gun in his hands and the obnoxious “Alpha” before him. He handed the gun to Negan, his head bowed in an obsequious manner.

“See,” said Negan, now holding the weapon in his hands, “that is what I’m talkin’ about. That feels good. I mean, I never had a kid of my own, but if I did, I would imagine this is what it’s like holding your baby for the first time, except for it turns out, my baby can kill people by spitting bullets at ‘em!”

His laughing subsided as he gestured to Daryl with an exaggerated movement of his hands. “Daryl,” he said, “kneel to the Alpha.”

Of course, he didn’t immediately do so, staring through Negan’s soul as the two Whisperers at either side of him attempted to push him down by his shoulders. He swung his arms violently in protest, and shook the Whisperers off of him. If he was going to have to kneel, he was going to do it on his own terms.

Negan chuckled, and Daryl slowly got down on both knees. The increasing heaviness of the rain beginning to pour down started to soak his hair, cooling down his head only slightly as his rage filled him with hot air.

“Damn,” said Negan. “It is starting to get real now, ain’t it? Daryl, you were right when you said that I liked it.” He exhaled sharply, and raised the shotgun to Daryl’s head. “Fact is, I like it a lot… Now, I’m gonna do somethin’ I shoulda done a long time ago.”

Daryl grimaced, unimpressed and, frankly, annoyed by Negan’s constant monologuing. “You should probably shoot me,” he said, narrowing his eyes in utter indignation.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

In one swift movement, Negan swung his arm out, now pointing the shotgun towards the once armed Whisperer, and proceeding to shoot him in the head. Daryl was disoriented for a moment, but wasted no time in swinging out his leg and tripping the Whisperer on his left, while Negan attempted to shoot the one on the right, but realized the shotgun was out of ammo.

“Shit!” he said, and dodged the Whisperer’s hit before hitting her in the face, buying him enough time to pull out his knife and lodge it into her skull.

Daryl must’ve knocked out the other Whisperer, as now he stood in front of Negan, holding his tied hands out. “Untie me, asshole.”

Despite his reservations, and his general dislike for Negan, Daryl allowed the escaped prisoner to remain untied as they made their way back to Alexandria, where Daryl knew the survivors, including Robin, had moved to the night before. He’d hoped he would’ve found you before they left, and that you could’ve reunited with Robin at the rendezvous point, but he hadn’t found you, not yet anyway.

Still, he supposed there was the possibility you found the meeting spot while he was out, and maybe now you were back home in Alexandria, but first he had to check the rendezvous point, just in case you had found it after everyone had left.

Negan sat upon a fallen log, watching Daryl trace several tracks in the mud around the little house. He cursed under his breath, sitting himself down beside Negan, facing the other direction, as it was bad enough he was sitting beside him as it was.

“No luck?”

“Nah.”

“Thought you said she got taken.” He held his canteen out to Daryl, offering him a drink, which he reluctantly took. He was incredibly parched, and hungry, and tired…

“Coulda been one of our people,” he said. “Mighta taken ‘er here… I dunno.”

“You didn’t recognize the tracks? Thought that was, like, your thing or something.”

He bit his lip and lowered his head, as if ashamed of his inability to find you. It was like back at the farm all over again—dead end after dead end, searching for that little girl who was already dead.

“Tracks got muddied up,” he said. “Somebody picked ‘er up, carried ‘er. Wasn’t a walker. Don’t know what’s worse.”

“Walker,” said Negan. “Walker’s worse. Least if somebody found her, mighta been someone good. Like you said, mighta been one of your own.”

Daryl shook his head and scoffed. “Yeah, well, if ya hadn’t kicked her in the head, we wouldn’t even be havin’ this conversation. Ought to kill ya for that.”

Negan furrowed his brow and looked at Daryl. “Hey, that crazy woman took a giant bite outta me.” He lifted his leg onto the log and pulled up his jeans, revealing a deep bite mark on his shin. Daryl raised an eyebrow and leaned back to look at the indentation, crusted with dried blood. “‘Sides, I was just tryin’ to shake her off. She wasn’t lettin’ that kid go without a fight.”

Daryl scoffed, but nodded in understanding, not of Negan’s actions, which were unforgivable as far as Daryl was concerned, no matter how small the injury was, but in understanding of your need to protect Lydia.

Still, he couldn’t appear as though he forgave Negan, since he didn’t, so he said perhaps the most ironic thing he’d ever said, considering he’d called you crazy many times before, albeit with the utmost affection.

“Don’t call my wife crazy,” he said.

Negan licked his lips and broke out into a wide grin. “Meant it as a compliment. Always liked crazy, emotional women.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, slightly disturbed by the idea of Negan complimenting you. He was, admittedly, a tad bit jealous, considering lately Negan had saved so many lives he believed he was to be responsible for.

“Those kinds of women are just wild in the sack,” he continued, much to Daryl’s annoyance. “Especially the, uh… quiet, sexy librarian types, if you’ll permit me to say so.”

Daryl turned his head to glower at Negan. Despite his deep annoyance with Negan mentioning you in such a way, especially given how he still wasn’t sure where you were, if you were even alive at this point, he was simply too physically tired to yell, so he only growled.

“Ain’t lettin’ ya get on my nerves,” he said, standing up to strap his crossbow across his chest. “Come on. Sooner I get you back to Alexandria, sooner I can look for (Y/N) again.”

Back to square one, he thought, realizing he was no closer to finding you, despite the knowledge that you were alive. At least, you were alive the night before last, long enough to give Robin your most prized possession.

Reaching into his jean pocket, he clutched at the jagged edges of the crystal, and as if the gem was imbued with some kind of divine energy, he felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and love flowing up his arm and spreading throughout his body.

Though he was tired, weatherworn, and unsure of what the future might bring, that crystal that belonged around your neck at least reminded him of what he was fighting for.

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imfluentinfangirlandgay · 2 years

Text

Reconnecting the Lines

Emmet saw things when he slept last night. Things he could not understand. Despite his confusion, there was one verrrry logical conclusion to this dream.

Ingo was alive.

Word Count: ~1100

Emmet laid in bed, hoping that tonight he wasn’t plagued with that dream again. The one with him and Ingo, having a normal day at the station. Every time, Ingo turned to him, his signature frown drawn over his features, adn begins to say something to him until he just vanishes. One second he is there, the next he is not. Then other people show up, asking Emmet how he could have let this happen, didn’t he care for his brother? Clearly not, if he was smiling like that. Why did he smile like that? He should be sad, and when you’re sad, you frown. That’s what they all chanted at him, the words constricting him, filling his nose and mouth and getting into his lungs, his very blood thrumming with the sound of You shouldn’t be smiling, you shouldn’t be smiling, their chanting making his heart palpitate-

Emmet shook his head. Galvantula readjusted herself on his chest, Archeop’s head laying over his arm. Eelektross was in its normal spot curled by his head, a habit it had formed when he first started having the nightmare and once thrashed so hard, he smacked his head against the headboard and nearly gave himself a concussion. The electric-type nuzzled him, concern in its eyes. “I’m alright, bud. Just need to sleep.” That’s what he said every night. Every night since Ingo had disappeared.

There had been something odd that had happened that day, and it would not leave Emmet’s mind. He had been transferring lines, getting off one train and moving to the next, when he had been hit with raw emotion. It was pure, white-hot rage that filled his blood, making him suddenly as taut as a bowstring, breathing heavily in the crowd. He had no idea what caused it. It had stuck with him for roughly two minutes, then had just as suddenly disappeared. Emmet had stood on the platform, wondering what the hell had just happened. His heart was still pounding as his fists uncurled from their positions at his sides. He noticed dimly that some people who had been close by had backed off a little and stood a distance away from him. He took a deep breath as he boarded his train, wondering where that had come from.

Emmet closed his eyes. He must have been exhausted by how quickly sleep came to him.

He was walking briskly, his back was stiff, why was his back stiff? Was he shorter? The landscape was dotted with hills and trees as he walked along a singular pathway. The breeze was gentle, the noises of some Pokemon nearby. Emmet noticed the sky then, red and cracked and multi-colored, why was the sky breaking? It was a huge juxtaposition to the peaceful scenery down below. Emmet (?) shook his head, continuing to walk. He could hear footsteps behind him, but he could not seem to turn his head.

“I need to find her,” Emmet said in a voice that was his, but not quite his. If it were Emmet truly, he would know, because his heart would have stopped. “Lady Sneasler, have any of the other Nobles been contacted by her yet?” Emmet heard a noise he never had, presumably the cry of a Pokemon. It sounded shrill and… unhappy. Emmet felt a pang of concern that he was fairly certain was not his. “We have searched all of the Fieldlands, next I suggest the Mirelands.” The figure paused and jutted their right arm directly in front of him, pointing further down the path. The other arm pointed out at an exact 90 degree angle, hand pointing at the ground. Emmet, if it were him, would have probably fainted at the sight. He noticed his arms were incredibly pale and had some faint scars on them, the sleeves of a familiar black coat missing and the coat shredded halfway up his forearms. On his right wrist, he wore a bracelet he had never seen before. It looked like it was carved out of wood.

“ALL ABOOOOOARD!” Emmet saw something out of the corner of his eye, a large purple object, and felt something resting on his shoulder softly as he held the position. He opened his mouth to say something-

Emmet’s alarm sounded, harsh in the stillness of his dark room. He pushed himself up, accidentally knocking off Galvantula, who clicked at him in surprise. He stared, wide-eyed into the dark before him, frozen. It took him a solid two minutes to finally snap out of it enough to grab his phone and hurriedly turn off his alarm. He sat there and stared at the device for a minute longer before he suddenly whirled out of bed, throwing his uniform on and brushing his teeth and grabbing some toast. He moved on autopilot, his mind still trying to keep up with what he had seen. He almost did not want to believe it, he did not want false hope after two years.

But he recognized that voice in his dream. He knew that coat, that stance. He remembered the curvature of the hands he had seen, the paleness of the forearms. If Emmet was correct, it meant one thing and one thing for certain.

Ingo was alive.

—-------------------------------

Emmet had decided not to tell anyone about the dream. Elesa would have just decided he’d finally lost it. Instead, he opted to write down anything he remembered in a small notepad that he stuck into the inner pocket of his coat. So far, there were not many things there.

Lady Sneasler (?)

Fieldlands, Mirelands

Looking for someone (female?)

Nobles of some kind

Wooden bracelet

Emmet looked over his list as he briskly walked to work, tucking it back into his pocket. It was a start, which was more than he’d had before this day. He was going to try to play it safe, act as normally as he could until he could do some research. Why had Ingo’s sleeve been so ripped? His voice had been raggard, dry, and it sounded hollow. Where was he? Did he need help? And what had been with him?

Arriving at Gear Station, Emmet opted to quickly open up and then sit in the control room, allowing another member of the staff to take over battles today. Emmet knew he would not be able to focus. It was because of this (and maybe the muttering under his breath and the crazed look in his eyes, but who’s to say) that the staff practically forced him to return home, despite his protests. One of them physically shoved him outside. “Boss, you’re always working. You look exhausted. Please, go home and rest. I promise the station will still be here tomorrow!” Eelektross popped out of its ball and prodded Emmet with a fin, buzzing at him. Emmet sighed, finally conceding. He grabbed some takeout on the way home. He was going to be doing research.

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#pokemon legends arceus #submas #subway boss ingo #subway bosses #subway boss emmet #warden ingo #pokemon arceus #legends arceus ingo #my writing #new fic idea

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lacheri · 3 years

Text

when you can’t sleep at night // wake me (sequel)

pairing: captain!Levi x cadet!fem bodied reader

content: angst, canonverse, mentions and talks of death/portrayals of death, depictions of violence, blood, overall dark themes, unestablished relationship, fingering, mutual loss of virginities, overstimulation, takes place sometime before the 57th expedition (didn't follow an exact timeline), there is a lot of talks about dying in this, levi asks a lot of intrusive questions, minors DNI.

summary: levi finds he holds an affection to a certain cadet of his. you find that maybe the comfort of your captain can quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind, even if just for one night.

wc: 10.7k

The clouds were so fluffy, so white and pure as you longingly watched them swirl above you. Your entire body was numb, back flat against the dirt with all your limbs stretched out. Your brain felt fuzzy, and for a fleeting moment you were flying in the clouds. You could feel the water vapor skim past your fingertips, the air whooshing against you as you soared. You looked down at the earth beneath your form, all the trees and even the walls looked so tiny from this height. This peaceful daydream was pulled from you with a start, your chest heaving with coughs.

“I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice call out, your line of vision intruded by the hazy form of a person leering over you. “I didn’t mean to hit you like that!”

“‘S okay,” you choked out, the numbness fading into aches all over your body. “I’ve gotten you good a couple of times too, Eren.”

“You know what, on second thought,” Eren’s lips spread into a smirk as he extended a hand down. “Consider this payback for beating my ass all those times in the Training Corps.”

“Good on you for finally landing a hit,” you chuckled, wincing as he hauled you to your feet. “Only took you three years.”

You rocked on your ankles, steadying yourself quickly before your legs gave out on you. Eren had gotten you good, roundhouse kicking you in your chest to lay you out on your ass. His training sessions had begun to pay off, used to the reverse happening when the two of you sparred. Mikasa would look on intently, a small smile on her lips when you’d punch Eren’s smug face with a sharp hook. You and 104th cadets were a friendly, strong group, bonded over the horrors of the titans, especially after what happened in Trost.

“What are you brats doing out here?”

Your heads whipped in the direction of the strong voice, meeting the steely hard set eyes of Levi, your captain and soon to be squad leader. His arms were crossed, and you gulped upon taking notice of how his biceps strained under the grey linen of his button up. You quickly flickered your focus back to his eyes before he caught you eyeing him up.

“Just sparring,” Eren hadn’t released the grip on your hand, nor had he noticed he was still holding onto your palm as he addressed the superior. “Prepping for the mission tomorrow.”

Levi frowned, “And who told you it was okay to do so when I gave you cadets instruction to clean the headquarters from top to bottom?”

You pulled your hand from Eren’s as you responded, “Sorry, Captain Levi. We’ll get on it right away.”

Levi only let out a displeased ‘tch’ as he turned on his heels, walking away without further commentary. Eren shot you an eye roll, and you held back a snicker as the pair of you followed shortly after the ravenette. Maybe the two of you had snuck away to leave the rest of your comrades to attack the former Survey Corps headquarters with dusters and cleaning rags, not wanting to participate in your weekly assigned duties. Eren had been adamant in the cobwebbed hallway on the second floor that he had to practice his hand to hand combat, just in case your squads ran into some problems on tomorrow’s mission. You had eagerly agreed, wanting to be as far away from the unsettled dust that assaulted your nostrils, itching at your allergies.

As the three of you entered the building, Levi abruptly turned to the two of you trailing behind him, you and Eren jumping in fright, “Eren, go to the dining hall, you’re going to wipe down underneath all the tables. As for you, brat, you get the honor of cleaning my room.”

Eren shot you a sympathetic look discreetly, nodding to your captain as he hightailed it to the hall.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, alone now with the captain. He studied you for a brief moment, gesturing with his head for you to follow him. Your feet moved before your mind could will you, and the soft thuds of your footsteps across the wooden planks of the floor was all that was heard. You snuck glances at the man before you, taking notice that his undercut was slightly grown in, his longer hair uncharacteristically out of place. Levi looked disheveled in a way, his tan leather jacket creased.

You opened your mouth to make a comment, but decided against it in the end. You were going to offer your assistance, to help freshen up his fade and to do his laundry, but figured Levi was a grown man who could take care of himself. You had a soft spot for the man, humanity’s strongest soldier. You knew a title like that came with a weight you could not fathom, especially after the horrors you had seen at Trost when the titans broke through the walls. You could remember everything so clearly, almost as if it was happening right now. You had nearly died that day.

Your older age amongst your fellow cadets was not one of gain you found out. After learning about the tragedy of Wall Maria, the wall closest to your village, it inspired you to join the Survey Corps in order to help the world. Humanity was dying, almost completely obliterated. Distant family members had died in Shiganshina that day, and the reality of the titans weighed heavily on you. How could you sit idly by as the world you knew was being destroyed before your very eyes? What would’ve happened had that attack been on your small village instead of the Shiganshina district? How would you have protected your own?

So with those thoughts in mind, you joined the training corps. Your parents had disagreed with broken hearts, knowing the likely fate of your choices. Your mother had insisted that you were of ripe marrying age, and that they had no other children to carry your family name. They begged and pleaded for you to settle down and find a husband, to help humanity in a different way by bearing children. You knew this was just a fantasy, and you knew it would be entirely possible that if you were to follow their wishes, the family you would create would be devoured and destroyed. This was the only way you could help, no matter your age or being in your reproductive prime. You needed to slaughter the titans, one by one until none remained. You kissed your beloved family goodbye the day you left for training, and you frequently sent them letters to let them know you were well and alive. One day, they all were returned back to you as you sat in the barracks, and one of the captains informed you that your village was destroyed, your parents and friends from home all dead.

You thought of them as you sliced through a five meter titan’s nape in Trost, your first kill. The citizens of the district ran stampeding in retreat, and caught up in the heat of it all, you had failed to account for the seven meter barreling behind you. When it’s burning fingers wrapped around your body, you sobbed, preparing to meet your family in the afterlife, whatever that would look like. You could feel the hot spats of drool hit your cheeks as the titan opened its mouth, bearing teeth and a cruel grin, and then suddenly, you were flying, caught in the arms of a savior. You stared in disbelief at the cut off fingers on the graveled stone of the street, to only be brought out of this state as Mikasa held you close and questioned if you were alright.

After the dust settled and the casualties were counted, you could feel a fire blazing deep within you. You never wanted to be vulnerable like that ever again, you wanted to be strong like Mikasa. Then, you met Captain Levi. You didn’t know much about him, but his reputation spoke volumes. You wanted the strength of the Ackermans whom you so deeply admired. You begged Commander Erwin to be assigned to Levi’s squad, and your wish was granted. You had been in the top rankings of your class, and you had a solo kill under your belt, aside from the near fatal clutch of another titan. Most of all, you had survived, a bigger feat than most of your comrades.

“Oi, you done daydreaming?” Levi’s cool voice brought you out of your train of thoughts as you arrived outside a wooden door, presumably his temporary living space.

“Sorry, just thinking,” you mumbled as he opened the door.

“Didn’t think you were capable of that. All the supplies are in the box on my desk, I want this room spotless, I don’t care how long it takes,” your captain grumbled as he made strides to his desk in the center of the room.

The room was fairly large, a double bed pressed against the left wall and the dark wooden desk was littered in paperwork. Half filled bookshelves lined the right wall, some mismatched couches and chairs filled the empty space. Honestly, the space was nearly perfect, even the bed was made. You knew better than to point this out to your superior though, so you had simply nodded and began to sort through the various cleaning supplies.

The scratch of Levi’s pen filled the hour long silence as you worked, dusting every surface and wiping it down with disinfectant spray and an old rag. After sweeping thoroughly, you flickered your eyes to the single window in the entire room, surprised completely as the sun had nearly set. The two of you were probably going to miss dinner, you realized as Levi poked his head up from the pile of papers he was concentrated on, a clear look of distaste on his features.

“This is what you call clean?” he spat, running a hand through his bangs. “Mop the floors, cadet.”

You sighed, feeling the subtle growl of hunger in the pit of your stomach. The mop laid in the left corner by the bedroom door, where you had found the broom. You swapped the two, picking up a bucket on the floor. You filled the wooden container with disinfectant, not seeing any polish in the box Levi had provided. He only rolled his eyes at seeing this, but said nothing. At least the floor would be clean.

Levi had lit a few lamps around the room to provide lighting as the sun dipped lower in the sky, swallowing the room in darkness. The floor was sparkling as you finished the last spot, a feeling of satisfaction filling your chest.

“Better?” you interrupted his concentration. He gazed around the room silently, face blank.

“Much,” Levi finally spoke. “That’ll be all, cadet.”

You smiled, setting the cleaning supplies back to their original locations, “Do you want me to bring you anything? I’m going down to grab dinner.”

Levi’s eyes widened at the question, not expecting your offer, “Some tea would be fine. Don’t fuck it up either, brat.”

You nodded as he dismissed you, and you treaded down the stairwell from the second floor to the kitchens. Some of the other cadets littered the dining hall as you passed, seeing some of your comrades laughing at a table, but you paid them no mind. In the kitchen there was hardly any leftover food from the dinner, scraps of potatoes sat in a large bowl on one of the counterspaces. You sighed, scarfing down whatever was available while you set a rusted kettle to a flame. The water was boiled within minutes, and you poured it over tea leaves in two teacups. You cleaned up your mess, and made your way back to Levi’s room.

You knocked twice on the door, hearing his grunt to signal you to enter. Levi was still positioned in his chair at his desk, head in his hands as he scanned over his documents. You placed his cup down silently, ready to leave the man to his work.

“Why are you here, cadet?” your captain called out as you went to open the door.

You turned your head to look at him, his eyes never leaving the words of his papers, “What do you mean, captain?”

“The Survey Corps,” he clarified, finally making eye contact. “Why?”

“To save humanity, sir?” you didn’t mean to speak as if you were questioning him, but your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He scoffed, setting his paperwork aside, “Humanity, huh? You’re a bit too old to be in the graduating class you’re currently in. Why join now?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m confused,” your body was facing his entirely now. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” he more so mumbled to himself. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be pregnant with your first born, with a husband. Instead, you’re here, trying to fight titans.”

“With all due respect, Captain,” your voice was laced with controlled anger. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Aren’t you scared?” Levi continued, ignoring your question. “You could’ve picked the easy way.”

“It would’ve been in vain. My village was wiped out shortly after Wall Maria fell.”

He hummed, his hands coming down to rest on the wooden notches of his desk, papers forgotten, “You were in the top ranks. You could’ve joined the military police.”

“And hear how my comrades died instead of helping them?” you gawked.

“It’s a lot better than watching.”

You shut your mouth then, lips pressing tightly together. You didn’t understand why your captain was questioning you like this.

“I see the way you are with them,” his tone softened, not looking you in the eyes as he spoke. “How you all are.”

“Just because I’m friendly doesn’t mean I’ll forget the purpose of the scouts,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. “I have my own ass to account for.”

Levi pushed off his chair suddenly, scraping the just mopped floor and jolting up to his legs, “You have no idea what it’s like out there. Your friends are going to die, cadet. There’ll be nothing you can do to save them. Are you prepared for that? Collecting their bodies, or whatever’s left of them to take home to their families?”

Your mouth went dry, jaw slacking, “Captain, I know what loss feels like. My family is dead, some of my so called ‘friends’ died in Trost. I know what I signed up for.”

He scoffed, circling around his desk to stand a few feet away from you, “Haven’t you seen enough?”

“Are you trying to get me to quit the Survey Corps?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes. You don’t belong here,” his tone was rough as he spat at you. “Go find a husband. Get the fuck out of the military.”

“I don’t want to,” your anger simmered as you stared down at your boots. “I don’t have a home to go back to. I can’t leave. I know the other cadets aren’t my friends. I’m just trying to make the best out of my life before I die. I know I’m going to die. What’s so wrong about trying to find comfort in others?”

“You are a fool,” he seethed, teeth clenched. “You want to die?”

You shook your head, not bothering to keep the conversation going, “I’m going to bed, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow for the mission.”

“I didn’t dismiss you, cadet,” Levi towered over you now as your hand wrapped around the doorknob.

You brought your fist up to your chest in a salute as you began to exit, “With absolutely no disrespect, I’m exhausted. Have a good night, Captain.”

You pushed the door shut in front of you as you stood in the hallway. You knew you would be getting an ear full from Levi in the morning, but honestly, the conversation was beginning to stir up feelings you’d rather not address. Intrusive thoughts filled your mind as you made your way to the first floor where your temporary bedroom resided.

You couldn’t answer Levi’s question because in a way, in a very selfish train of thought, you didn’t want to be a part of the titan’s world anymore, whether that meant death or something else. How easy it would be for you to greedily pack your things and leave the military and take refuge in some random village to live out the rest of your days, however long they would be. Or to just simply become fodder for the titans in your quest to rid the world of their reign.

Your uniform was folded on your bedside table, a cotton shirt and shorts on your body as you sat on your bed over the covers. You could hear the soft snores of Christa as she slumbered peacefully in the bed across the room, and you gazed over her body under her covers. You knew the people you trained with, fought with, grew fond of, were not your friends. How could they be? It’d only make things harder in the end. Like Levi had said, you might be the one collecting their deceased bodies after a battle. How could you ever grow close to someone that you knew their days were numbered?

The 104th cadets were your comrades, not your makeshift family. You had to remind yourself of that every time Sasha would ask for your leftovers, batting her big eyes at you. When Eren would spar with you, telling you how strong you were and commending you on how far you had come since the first day of the Training Corps. How Mikasa literally saved your life, and how you had admired her ever since. Armin’s unmatched potential and growth. Jean’s relentless taunting, giving you the nickname of gram because of your age. Connie, well frankly, just being Connie. Reiner and Bertholdt’s strong will and passion. Annie’s unwavering willpower and prowess. All the other cadets who you’d gotten to know so well, you had to constantly imagine their corpses as they smiled at you and tried to get to know you. So, you stayed back, opting to be alone at any opportunity, so their deaths would be easier to swallow when the time came.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to try and rid yourself of your thoughts. It was of no use, and with a sigh you pushed yourself out of your bed. You deemed it would be yet again another sleepless night, and you realized sadly you had left your tea cup in Levi’s office completely untouched. You didn’t bother to entertain the thought of going back to retrieve it, instead you slinked through your bedroom door and out of the headquarters.

The night air was chilly, and you felt regret for not grabbing your jacket on your way out. The moon was gone, a completely black night, and you could see the stars crystal clear. The sky was your favorite sight, especially on nights like this.

You found a nice patch of soft grass, and laid on your back to gaze up at the sky. This was always your comfort, even as a child, to go outside and watch the sky, day or night. Your mother would warn you that your eyes would fall out of your head if you stared too long at the sun, at the moon. You didn’t care, because in those moments you felt so free. Free of the walls that caged you inside, of the world around you. You were the clouds, the stars, the wind as it rolled past. Maybe you were never meant to be human, you mused. You were meant to be nature, never to experience the trials and tribulations of sentinel living. You were supposed to be free, all knowing and ignorant at the same time, existing without the weight of consciousness.

“Thought you were going to bed, cadet?”

You were startled by the boom of a familiar voice behind you, collecting yourself and clearing your throat, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Levi’s head bobbed into your field of vision, “Thought too hard today?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling guilty as you caught the action afterwards and hoped your captain wouldn’t find it as a disrespect, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Why are you out here of all places, without a jacket?” out of the corner of your eye you watched as Levi brought himself down to sit next to you.

“I like watching the sky,” you put simply, trying not to make eye contact. “Makes me feel better.”

“About dying?” he said, and you knew that he wouldn’t let your previous conversation go. You decided to humor him, if only to get these thoughts out of your mind.

“Yes.”

“Like what?” he almost sounded uninterested, but from his line of questioning you knew he was anything but.

“I don’t want to die,” you admitted, digging your fingernails into the grass by your waist. “I don’t want to watch anyone die. I never wanted to join the military. I felt like I had no choice.”

“We always have a choice,” he leaned his back to see whatever had your attention draw above you.

“Either fight the titans or get eaten alive when they attack the walls?” you snorted. “What a hard decision to make.”

“Why’d you join the Survey Corps?” he asked once again.

“I didn’t want my family’s death to be in vain. I had cousins, aunts and uncles in Shiganshina.”

“What about your death?”

“I hope it’ll mean something,” you breathed, feeling your chest get tight. “I hope this all will mean something.”

Levi looked at you then, a glimmer of something you couldn’t identify in his eyes, “You sound like Erwin when you talk like that.”

You made eye contact, a small smile on your lips, “The Commander’s an amazing man. I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Levi scoffed, “Take it as you will.”

“What else could I do? I’m trying so hard to make a difference, to make life easier for others so they don’t have to suffer this fate. Isn’t that why we all joined the Survey Corps?” you continued your train of thought. “Maybe we all have a death wish. Fuck, I know I have one. It all just fucking hurts, Captain. I can’t help but think of others all the time, of all the loss and the grief they've gone through, what I’ve been through. At what will keep happening until all the titans are gone for good.”

“Why the sky?” he changed the subject, seemingly bored of your repetitive narrative.

“Because there’s no titans up there,” you joked without humor. “There’s no walls, no boundaries, no rules. It’s never ending. Where are the stars? How does day and night occur? Where does the moon go when the sun’s out? It amazes me, that’s all. Makes me think of how big the world is, of what’s out there besides this.”

“You think too much for a brainless brat,” Levi grumbled, laying on his back and joining you.

“I know,” you chuckled, turning your body to face him. “Wish I could turn off all my thoughts, it would probably make life a whole lot more livable.”

He hummed, eyes drawn in to your face, “I understand. What you said earlier, too, about finding comfort in others.”

“What do you mean?” you propped your head on your hand and you positioned your elbow to support you.

“I guess I never thought about it before tonight,” he blinked, expression unreadable. “Life as a soldier isn’t a comforting one. I guess that’s what I was trying to tell you about.”

You read between the lines of his words, recognizing it as his form of an apology, “I know. But it’s still the life I chose. At least I’m trying to make a difference, we all are.”

“Y’know, I’ve been paying attention to you for some time now. I didn’t understand when Erwin came to me and told me you had asked to be put on my squad. I took a look in your file, and I saw you after the attack on Trost, and I still didn’t understand,” Levi spoke slowly. “I don’t think I get you at all, even now.”

“I don’t think I understand myself,” you laughed dryly, returning your attention to the sky.

“You should get some sleep, cadet,” he advised softly, pushing himself off the ground. “And for fuck’s sake do it soon, I won’t be taking care of your ass if you get a cold.”

Levi stalked off before you could utter a response. You sighed, and decided his words were wise enough to follow. A few moments after your captain had left you, you followed his pathway back to the entrance of the former headquarters. You entered, making a hasty retreat back to your room where Christa was still knocked out cold.

Under your covers, you replayed your conversations with Levi. You still couldn’t figure out why he had questioned you like he had, why he even cared in the first place. Maybe it was his own gnawing curiosity, trying to understand why some random twenty-something year old girl insisted on being in his squad like you had. Maybe, you thought egotistically, you had your own reputation. You inwardly snorted, probably not.

Images of your captain under the moonlight played beneath your eyelids as you finally managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

The mission had gone horribly wrong. At least for you, to be honest you had no idea where the rest of your comrades were as you raced on your horse, desperately searching the sky for flares. You hadn’t seen a single one in a while now, at least ten minutes, and your heart was thudding hard as thoughts that the entire fleet of soldiers you had joined had been decimated. You were completely alone, the walls distant behind you. All you knew is that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t turn around or else you’d really be lost.

The 104th had stayed behind at the former headquarters, this having been a smaller expedition to clear out some titans before the planned 57th expedition in a few weeks. Levi, Oluo, Petra, and Gunther, as well as a few other squads accompanying you, were in a near perfect formation when an abnormal titan had broken through, killing a few unnamed soldiers at your side that you had never met before today.

In the far left distance, you could see a large forest full of trees. Your jaw slacked open, relief running through your veins when you caught sight of some men on horses heading that direction. Green flares shot up high in the sky, and you pulled the reins of your mare to follow. Your plan was brought to a screeching halt though, as you heard the thunderous footsteps shake your horse, and your body. You threw a glance behind your shoulder, a ten meter titan running straight towards you. You reached to your side quickly, shooting a red flare above you to warn any close by comrades.

The titan was gaining speed, about a dozen yards now behind you. You really wanted to avoid confrontation was much as possible, but as those yards closed between you and the titan, you growled and prepared yourself. You gave your horse a soft pat on her neck, and heaved yourself to stand on the saddle. You gaged your surroundings, seeing complete flat plains all around you, not an ideal situation for fighting at all.

Your odm gear shot you straight to the titan’s legs, a plan instilled in your head on the best way to take it down. It was fairly thin and muscular, but you decided it was just a plain titan as it dumbly stared at you with its wicked grin. Your dual blades locked in your hands now, you swung behind the titan and sliced through its ankles. The ten meter fell swiftly, giving you the perfect opportunity to land on its nape and kill it. It stilled completely beneath you after your swift cuts, and you ran as fast as your body willed you to rejoin your mare.

You placed your fingers to your lips, whistling as loud as you could. Your horse, at least 100 feet away, perked its ears and turned at a rapid speed straight back to you. She neighed as she reached your form, and you hauled yourself back on her saddle, kicking your legs for her to break into a full gallop to where the green flares still lingered in the air.

You didn’t bother to signal another flare in the air, seeing no other flares around you. As you neared closer to the forest, you felt incredibly relieved at the sight of your squad, now able to make out their faces. Petra waved her hands high in the air, about 20 feet away now. You saw Oluo, Gunther, and Levi, unharmed, as you got closer, bringing your horse down to a slightly slower gait, seeing no titans around.

“Are you okay?” Petra shouted at you once you reached the group. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay!” you spoke as fast as you could. “The other cadets I was with were killed by an abnormal, I got split up from them.”

“What was that red flare?” Oluo questioned, worry riddled in his eyes.

“It’s fine, I killed it,” you breathed shakily. “Where are the others?”

“Retreating back to the walls,” Levi answered, voice hard and commanding. “We’re out of blades, and there've been too many casualties. The others have the deceased’s bodies.”

You and your squad nodded, and with no further delay, you broke your horses into a full sprint back to the walls. The sun hung low in the sky, sunset merely a few hours away. Now in a formation in the clear open plains, you noticed out of the corner of your eye some movement.

“Abnormal titan to the right!” you screamed, turning your head to watch the titan’s arms flail, running in an irregular pattern.

“Holy fuck,” Gunther’s eyes widened in horror, shooting a black flare into the sky. “That’s got to be a 15 meter!”

“Don’t engage!” Levi barked, eyes trained straight ahead at the walls. “Keep an eye on it!”

“Sir!” the four of you quipped.

It seemed the abnormal titan had other plans as it caught sight of the five of you, its pace changing with intentions.

“It’s heading straight towards us!” Petra called out, flickering her eyes between the running titan and your captain. “Orders, Captain?”

Levi kept silent, much to your horrors. It was only a few yards away now, speed not slowing. Levi’s attention was completely ahead, the walls almost in full view. You were so close, not close enough though and the abnormal titan’s legs moved faster.

“Captain Levi!” Oluo shouted, eyebrows shot into his hairline.

The titan was less than three yards away when Levi finally spoke, “Petra, Oluo, make it fast!”

You shot off your horse before Levi’s lips opened, his commands unheard by you. Your odm ropes attached right into the titan’s ankles, just like how you had done before. There’s a reason they called it an abnormal titan though you discovered as its fingers closed around the wiring of your gear, yanking the ropes out of its skin and hauling your body up.

You squirmed, mashing your buttons desperately to get your hooks out of its fist as you were brought to the titan’s mouth. It was an ugly son of a bitch, teeth on full display in its evil smile. You couldn’t believe how badly you had fucked up again, the titan’s other hand gaining momentum as it lifted to wrap its disgusting meaty fingers around you. You watched as the fingers were sliced off before they could reach you, and suddenly you were free falling as the hand holding your odm ropes fell from its arm. You redirected yourself back to its ankles, back to your original plan of taking out the nerves to allow the titan to fall, your nerves entirely shot, your adrenaline in full control.

Levi had both his swords drawn as he met you at the back of the 15 meter’s legs, “Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed? You should’ve let the others handle it!”

“I thought I had it, Captain!” you curtly shouted, cutting through the tendons and getting sprayed with steaming blood. The titan did not falter though, but thankfully you and Levi had created a useful diversion as Petra, and Oluo took out the titan’s nape. You and your group shot back to your horses as the titan fell from its height, dead on impact.

The opening of the gate of Wall Rose was a fucking blessing, and your squad couldn’t have ran through it any faster. You heard the roaring of the gate as it closed behind you, and you were choking on shallow breaths as you slowed your mare’s gait.

None of you spoke a single word as you returned to the former headquarters, exhausted after the adrenaline of your mission wore off. You returned your horses to the stables, where feed and water awaited them. Your squad practically ran off, and you were confused until you saw the pissed off look of your superior aimed directly at you. Gulping down spit, you turned on your heel, ready to take off.

Levi’s arm shot out around your bicep, harshly tugging you to stop your escape, “Are you a fucking idiot, cadet? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I thought I could take out the titan by its ankles!” you defended quickly, gritting your teeth as his fingers dug into your clothed arm. “It’s how I took out the other titan I killed, Captain!”

“You better learn quickly that all titans are not the same! Or did you not learn that in training?” Levi growled out between clenched teeth.

“I thought I could take it out,” you grumbled, ripping your arm out of his grip.

“You betrayed my orders. You listen to me and my commands, cadet,” he spat out, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes burning holes into yours. “Remember your place.”

You pivoted yourself away from your captain, trotting ahead to head inside the headquarters, voice laced with malice as you grumbled, “I’ll do as I see fit.”

This would be the second time Levi hadn’t dismissed you before leaving him behind, you realized as you arrived at the communal bathroom. You sighed heavily, leaning back against the closed door, completely alone. Thankfully, it was very late in the evening, and if your comrades weren’t in bed already, they would be heading to sleep soon. You were so relieved to get some much needed alone time, especially now that you had such a terrible day.

You changed out of your blood soaked uniform, not bothering to fold it as you laid the clothes on the floor. Stark naked, you began to fill the bathtub basin with running water, a very rare luxury due to the previous care when the headquarters was up and running. With the porcelain half filled, the water steaming, you sunk your aching body into the scalding bath. The water turned a deep pink as you scrubbed your skin with a rag that had been resting over the rim. You untied your hair and dipped your head back, threading your fingers through your knots after generously coating the strands with soap. You drained the dirty water, refilling it back up now that most of the dirt and blood had been washed away. The tub held a pastel pink hue now, but you felt much cleaner and you sunk back in the tub, stretching out as much as you could.

You didn’t dare close your eyes for too long, picturing the events of today. You didn’t try to reflect on the lives that had been lost on today’s mission, the strangers you never had the pleasure, or perhaps displeasure, of getting to know. It made it easier in a sense to forget, to keep pushing forward. Still, the gore and the cruelty of what being a part of the scouts was truly about haunted the corners of your mind as you absentmindedly rubbed soap along your limbs. Maybe you were trying to wash away these memories, too.

Half an hour later, you decided it was time to dry off and get into comfortable clothing as the water cooled and your skin had pruned. You unplugged the drain, standing and reaching for a towel. Wrapping the fabric around your chest, you stepped out of the tub, feet leaving wet prints on the floor as you treaded to your bedroom, soiled clothes in hand.

An oversized white long sleeve hung off your frame, accompanied by your favorite cotton shorts as you sat on your bed, completely alone. Christa had briefly mentioned before your mission this morning that she’d be spending the night with Ymir, to which you were inwardly grateful for the promise of solidarity. As you sat hunched over, you found yourself longing for the comforting presence of someone, anyone, to distract you from the images that plagued your mind, no matter how hard you tried to push them away.

You jerked with a start as you pictured the angry face of your captain, feeling immense guilt pool in your gut. You had never spoken so much with Levi before yesterday, realizing the weight of your words and actions, reckless and undermining his authority. Maybe you owed him an apology, for if nothing else to at least calm your mind enough for sleep.

You didn’t remember the walk when you had arrived outside the captain’s door, or could recall if you had knocked before it swung open, revealing Levi’s surprised expression.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, nervously tugging at your sleeves as you avoided eye contact. “I’ve been disrespectful, Captain, and I’m sorry.”

“Cadet,” his teeth clenched tightly. “Do you understand what time it is?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whimpered, legs ready for a moment's notice of a retreat. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave—“

Levi’s hand shot out to circle your wrist, and you finally looked up into his charcoal eyes, “Don’t, come in.”

You couldn’t protest as you guided you into his room, shutting the door behind you after you passed the entry. Levi was dressed casually, beige cotton shirt hanging off his torso, plain grey pants on his lower half. The bags under his eyes told you he had also not been able to fall asleep. He led you to sit on his neatly made bed, towering over you with his arms tightly crossed.

“I was on my way to check on you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”

“You didn’t knock,” Levi clarified, looking anywhere but at you. “I was already at the door. You’d seen a lot today. I don’t need my soldiers having breakdowns after every mission.”

He was worried about you, your breath halted in your throat.

“Oh,” you dumbly said.

“Seems like you did me a favor by coming here,” he mused, sighing as he ran a hand through his bangs. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“Thinking, again, about everything,” you crossed your thighs, body language signally how uncomfortable you were upon talking about these feelings.

“Your brain is going to cause you more grief if you don’t stop,” Levi’s spare hand grasped your chin gently, bringing your head up so you could look him in the eyes. “Why do you insist on being alone with these thoughts?”

“Captain, weren’t you just saying it’s a bad idea to have friends?” you could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest at his gesture, unsure of his intentions.

“Weren't you just talking about finding comfort in others?” Levi leaned down, you felt his breath against your lips as he spoke. “I’ve been paying attention to you for awhile, cadet.”

“You looked in my file, you told me already,” you whispered, unsure that if you spoke at full volume your voice wouldn’t quiver.

“No, I’ve been watching you. You’re not exactly quiet when you sneak out at night, y’know. I’ve seen you,” he hesitated briefly before continuing. “I’ve watched you cry all alone, how you try to distance yourself from the others. I was testing you yesterday, brat. I think I understand now, though.”

Your captain crouched down to meet you at eye level, fingertips never straying from your chin, and you felt your lip quiver as he rasped, “I understand, because I get it. You’ve always felt alone, haven't you?”

You nodded, scared to voice the truth, he continued, “I’m not going to explain myself to you, and if I hear a single word spoken about any of our conversations, I will personally sign your extermination paperwork. You’re different, you’re not like the others. You know what grief is, what pain and loss feels like. Your mission, your goals, it keeps driving you forward. Who couldn’t notice that?”

Levi scoffed, and you managed out a tiny, “Captain Levi.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you telling me this?” you could feel the harsh prick of tears try to escape your eyes, blinking furiously to not allow them to fall.

“Because,” he brushed back your hair behind your ear with his spare hand. “We’re exactly the same, and I can’t allow you to continue living like this, knowing where you’ll end up. Are you a virgin, cadet?”

“Yes,” you stuttered, thoroughly embarrassed.

“I am too,” Levi confessed, his eyes baring his soul. “I’m in my thirties, and I’ve never taken a woman to bed. All because of my mission.”

“My parents raised me to save myself for marriage,” your lips hung open. “But, they’re dead now, and I’ll probably never be married.”

“Cadet?” Levi’s hand came up from your chin to rest his palm against your cheek. “You talk about choices, you told me about how you never followed the path set for you. Why don’t you allow yourself some peace, some comfort? If not for yourself, for others, for your fellow comrades?”

“Are you asking to fuck me, sir?” your body felt heavy, uncomfortably numb but you couldn’t will yourself to move an inch, your mind was frazzled.

“I’m asking for permission to comfort you, both of us. I’m tired of being alone, aren’t you?” his face had fallen completely, and you were in awe of how open and raw Levi was.

You didn’t answer him, instead pushing his hands off of your face to capture his cheeks in your own hands, forcing your lips together. Fuck the world, fuck the titans, fuck every single thing that dared to bother you and your existence. You were tired, tired of denying yourself pleasures and comfort and basic human interaction. Who cared if you all died? Would it be for naught that you had never gotten to know your comrades? What would be the point in dying for your military if you didn’t have a motivation, a passion driving you? You were so fucking lonely, and Levi was too as he crashed his lips against yours, wrapping his long arms around your back to hold you closer.

You felt the older ravenette pull away for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred and muscular chest. You ran your fingers over his middle slowly, taking in every dip and every flex of his body. Levi was beautiful, and you felt honored that you were here in this moment, with a man who had heard more of your thoughts and feelings than any person before. He stopped your hands as they came to his pecks, pushing your arms high to remove your own shirt.

Your nipples hardened meeting the cold air, exposed now in the dim candle light. You didn’t dare cover yourself, nor did Levi let you get the chance. His hands were all over your chest within an instant, caressing and groping as his lips met yours once again. You hadn’t bothered to tell Levi that he was your first kiss, the first man to see you naked, the first man who had shown genuine interest in you and your body. Maybe you’d tell him later, but for now, you just wanted to quell the thoughts swarming your mind.

You stood quickly, maneuvering your lips to the side of his exposed neck. Your kisses were sweet, innocent and pure as Levi began to pull your shorts off, your panties accompanying the fabric. You kicked out of them as Levi grabbed the back of your head, groaning as he slammed your mouths together once more in an open kiss.

Your hands were everywhere on his skin, trying desperately to remember every single detail, knowing that this would most likely be a one time thing. You knew the risks of becoming entangled in a romantic relationship in the military, more so the scouts. Levi or you, or anyone, could die at any moment. This only motivated you further in your desire, ripping down his pants, mildly surprised to see your captain not wearing any underpants.

Levi breathily mumbled as he grasped your waist and led you flat on your back atop his bed, “I thought you were dead today.”

“I’m not, and neither are you,” you hushed his spoken thoughts with another passionate kiss. He tasted minty from his tea, smelled of woodsy musk from his obvious earlier shower, his touch so soft as he grazed your body up and down.

You felt his knees between your legs as he loomed over you, pushing apart your thighs at the force. His right hand stroked your cheek as his tongue prodded past your willing lips, swollen from his attention. His left hand ventured south, resting upon the curve of your hip, digging his fingers to feel the supple flesh.

“You’re quite beautiful, y’know,” he mirrored your earlier ministrations, placing sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “One of the reasons I was so fascinated by you, I couldn’t understand how you weren’t married.”

“Maybe in another life,” you simply put, attention drawn to how sinful his lips felt against your flushed skin. He sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, and a whimper left your lips at the contact. You could feel your center slicken, cold air consuming all of your exposed skin. Levi’s hand dared closer and closer to your desire, and you made out the distinguished poke of his manhood against your lower stomach.

When his fingertips nudged against your folds, Levi let out a groan of pleasure, “You’re so wet, cadet. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Captain, I need this,” you begged, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him flush against you. “Please, distract me, make me forget.”

Levi felt no need to answer your pleads, instead allowing his fingers to familiarize himself with your most intimate of parts. His eyes stayed trained on yours, taking in every expression you made, one catching his focus immediately as his pointer finger circled the top of your folds. It felt like a button, and you started moaning desperately as he continued his circling.

“Feels good?” your captain asked, insecurity in the back of his mind.

“Yes,” you took your right hand away from Levi’s neck, grabbing his wrist that was in between your legs, dipping his fingers to your dripping entrance. “Need you here.”

He plunged his pointer and middle fingers in, and your velveteen walls clenched around him. You had pleasured yourself many times just like this, but the heightened pleasure of someone else’s knuckles deep inside you was incredible. No one had ever touched you like this before, looked at you so lovingly and so lustfully. His fingers scissored inside you, and you knew your patience would soon snap.

When Levi’s fingers curled upwards, you thought you were going to pass out. Your eyes screwed shut as loud mewls left your lips, Levi’s free hand covering your mouth. Your hips bucked upwards in his touch, hips rolling fast as your clit caught the fat of his palm. You could feel the familiar bubble of your climax, threatening to spill over as you arched your back.

Levi pulled his fingers from your weeping cunt then, so agonizingly slowly, “No, cadet. Not yet.”

You whined, pressure settling down in your abdomen as Levi took his soaking hand to his hard cock. You couldn’t believe that you hadn’t paid attention to his girth before, he was gorgeous. All the hard work and all the violence had sculpted your captain as if he were a statue. His length stood at full attention, pressed against his belly, his balls hanging in the free space between his thick thighs. You moaned at the sight of Levi stroking himself, seeing the glisten of your arousal coat him. He let out a strangled groan, before letting himself go, falling unceremoniously to capture your lips once again.

“You ready?” Levi asked permission, his kiss so sweet and tender, and you realized then the weight of all of this. You were about to lose your virginities to each other, he would forever hold a mark on you.

You smiled, so full of adoration, there wasn’t anyone else you’d rather be with right now as you spoke, “Yes, sir.”

Levi gripped the base of his dick, bumping the engorged head against your sensitive clit and through your folds as he coated himself more in your essence. You both knew this was going to hurt you, and had either of you not been in such a hurry, you’d take the time to mutually pleasure each other until your bodies were truly ready for this intimate act. There were no coherent thoughts in this moment, only pure passion and animalistic desire.

His tip sunk in, and you felt like you were going to be split in half. Your hands shot up to his arms, nails leaving half crescents on his biceps, your ankles hooking together on his ass as you tensed up at the pain.

“Relax,” he kissed your jaw with a groan. “Gonna’ take care of you.”

You nodded, focusing on his words instead of the pain. Your pelvic floor relaxed, and Levi was able to push himself deeper into your cavern.

“There’s no blood?” Levi questioned you curiously as he glanced down to where your bodies met, not moving even a centimeter to allow you to adjust.

The pain was quickly fading as you mumbled, “Probably broke my hymen on a goddamn horse.”

You both let out a breathy laugh, and Levi’s right hand came to stroke your cheek, pushing back your hair out of your face, “I’ll have to kill that horse then.”

You were rattling your brain for a witty response to your captain when Levi shifted, stroking his length backwards as your walls fluttered around him. Your face was no longer scrunched in pain, your eyebrows unfurrowed and your mouth hung open, feeling nothing but pleasure as his left hand shot to your pulsing pussy, thumbing your clit with the lightest of touches.

“Captain,” you stuttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Feels good.”

“Yeah,” he pushed his forehead to yours, his own eyes closing as he pushed his cock back into your depths, so slowly.

You placed a gentle kiss to his lips for a brief moment, neck craning off the pillow under your head. You felt a cramp as he kissed you back, so gently and so softly. You moved your mouth to his jaw, peppering kisses along any exposed skin you reach.

His right hand stayed positioned to your face, his grey colored orbs opened, focusing on your face. You looked up then, and felt your heart hammering in your chest. Levi was so handsome, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes softened without the weight of reality crashing down on him.

“I’m glad it’s you,” your arms were still wrapped around his neck as you rubbed soft circles along the ridge of his undercut. His hips held such a passionate, steady rhythm as he continued plunging into you.

Levi didn’t respond, his hand angling your face to his again. Although unspoken, you could see in his face that he appreciated your words, his thrusts faster in pace now. You couldn’t stop the moans from exiting your throat, volume increasing as his thumb worked you with more pressure. He swallowed your noises with his lips, not even kissing, the two of you just breathing into one another’s mouth.

Suddenly the distance wasn’t close enough, Levi’s hand left the curve of your cheek to wrap his arm around the middle of your back, forcing your body completely against his sweating one. His lips began to work against yours, sloppy and messy as you kissed the man back with the same fever.

Levi’s pace was solid, deep and without error. Your hips tried desperately to meet his thrusts, his wrist in between your centers blocking you from doing so. Your captain didn’t even so much as warn you to stop, his thumb rolling faster against your now swollen clit, that same heat in your stomach rebuilding rapidly. The two of you were so lost in each other, your arms leaving his neck to wrap around his shoulders and forcing his head down to your neck where he lapped and peppered kisses to conceal his own moans. You did the same, lips attached to the curve where his muscular shoulder met his neck.

His touch was unrelenting, but you felt the unmistakable shutter as he plunged right to your cervix, goosebumps rising on his skin under your fingertips. You let out a muffled moan, your nails clawing at his back, your legs somehow tighter around his backside.

Levi’s thumb rubbed harder, so much faster now than his thrusts. Your pussy was fluttering rapidly now, clenching and unclenching around his girth, you were so close. You had a feeling your captain was as well, his pace increasing even faster.

“I’m cumming,” you pulled away from his shoulder to warn Levi, sucking the sensitive area of his neck.

Levi moaned in pleasure, bucking his hips hard into you, and this was what sent you over the edge. Levi couldn’t move even if he wanted to as your cunt gripped him so tightly, contracting so hard around his length. You could hear a string of curses and ‘ah’s from his lips as your hips bucked wildly into his hand, rubbing your clit along his stilled thumb. You’d had plenty of self given orgasms before, but feeling completely filled as your walls fluttered around something was a pleasure you knew you’d be seeking again.

Your teeth were sunk into his neck, and Levi was finally able to continue his strokes as your orgasm slowed, your body limping. His thumb started once more, and you were whimpering at the overstimulation, your contractions not even done. He was pounding into you now, growling into your neck, you could feel the sharp clench of his jaw dig into your shoulder. It didn’t take you more than a minute to build up another orgasm, and as the new waves of pleasure slammed into you, Levi was pulling out.

You came around nothing as Levi rutted into your stomach, feeling the smear of hot cum rub against your middles. He was bucking desperately, moaning and whimpering. The sounds he made paired with the nonstop movement of his thumb only heightened your pleasure, your left hand coming to caress the back of his head.

He removed his touch from you, taking his dripping hand to your waist as his thrusts against your stomach slowed. It crawled under your back to meet his other arm, and he placed sensual, slow kisses to your neck. You did the same, thanking him non verbally. His head lifted, eyes half lidded as he placed his lips to yours, locking them in a saccharine embrace. He pulled away after a few moments, sliding off of your sticky body and out of the bed. Your arms fell to your sides, and he slipped his pants on, avoiding the area of his lower stomach where his cum was drying quickly. He rushed to his dresser, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping himself down quickly, returning back to your body to clean your middle as well.

“You’ll probably need to shower,” Levi broke the silence as he pulled the rag away, his empty hand roaming the curve of your side.

“Probably,” you mumbled in bliss, enjoying his light touch. “I’ll get up in just a minute.”

“You could stay,” Levi offered awkwardly, halting his movements.

“It’s okay, I think I want to be alone,” you smiled, your brain foggy. “Also don’t need rumors to start up if anyone sees me leaving your room in the morning.”

Levi only hummed as you pulled your naked body to a full stand, reaching for your discarded clothes. You pulled your long sleeve over your head first, the edges brushing against the tops of your thighs, stepping into your panties and shorts quickly. The silence was almost overwhelming, neither of you sure of what exactly to say.

“Captain Levi,” you finally spoke, ready to depart. “Thank you.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling your body to his with no real force, kissing you passionately. You kissed him back hungrily, and had you been more experienced, you would’ve felt the flicker of sparks deep within your stomach, a signal of unconscious feelings sprouting within you.

You pulled away from him, a smile playing at your lips as he spoke raspily, “You know where to go if you don’t want to be alone.”

You threaded your fingers through his open palm, bringing his knuckles to your lips as you placed a soft peck to the back of his hand, “I will, Captain. Goodnight.”

The heat of the sun beat harshly on your back, your body in a full ache as you dodged a punch from Eren. You went to lift your leg into a kick, a yelp leaving your lips at the feeling that you were going to rip in half, and quickly shifted your hips to plan a new attack. Thankfully, your fake out worked, seeing Eren prepare himself for your leg, not for your first to go flying into his gut.

With a loud groan of pain, Eren laid flat on his back in the dirt. Your chests heaved, sweat dripping down your skin, and you extended your palm to the younger boy. You had won this spar, and Eren huffed as he smacked his hand away playfully.

“I had you last time! I can’t believe I lost again!” he complained, eyebrows furrowed as he screwed his eyes shut in a fit.

You laughed then, crossing your arms over your chest, “You got lucky, Jaeger.”

Around the two of you, all the cadets were still in their own sparring matches. Even in your weary state, you had been the first match finished, and you feel a swell of pride. You were getting stronger, more fit to survive the harsh reality of this world.

“Cadets,” Captain Levi made himself known then, stepping forward from the row of squad leaders, unbeknownst to you and Eren he had been watching with a trained eye the entire fight.

“Captain!” you saluted, Eren lazily following along silently.

Levi’s eyes lingered over you for a minute, before shifting his attention to Eren before scoffing, “Pathetic, Jaeger. You need to work on your form.”

You tried desperately to hide a smirk, eyes lit up in amusement as Eren frowned deeply, sighing, trying not to lash out on your superior. Levi continued, “Cadet, good job.”

“Thank you, Captain,” you smiled brightly, now trying to conceal the oncoming heat of your blush flaming up your neck, licking the tips of your ears.

“However, never let your guard down after you think you’ve won.”

The sound of your skull cracking into the ground beneath you sent your vision in a dizzy frenzy. Levi hovered over you, and you could make out the lingering feeling of his boot hitting your stomach, causing you to lay flat on your back. The sun was high in the sky today, not a single cloud in view or whisk of wind felt.

“Ow,” you heaved, bringing yourself into a seated position, hunched over. “What was that for?”

“You can’t always predict what a titan’s next move is going to be,” Levi cooly explained, crouching down to meet your eye level. “This is how you fucked up, both times, with an abnormal. You have to pay attention. You can’t let yourself get caught up in a victory. Understood, brat?”

You nodded, feeling your ears grow hot as multiple sets of eyes watched on in curiosity, “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll see you in my office after dinner for your punishment,” his eyes twinkled, a hint of a smirk on the corner of his lips. “Cockiness is not befitting for a brat like you.”

You groaned, biting your tongue to hold back words you knew would come across as disrespectful. You didn’t see what you did to deserve a punishment, but you huffed as Levi strolled away, yelling at Eren about something. Probably about his smirk when he watched you fall on your ass.

Turns out your punishment was anything but, instead a much rougher fucking left your body nearly in shambles. This became a routine, instead of traveling outside to stare at the stars and lose yourself in your thoughts, Levi’s body became your comfort, your relief. He felt the same, pouring his loneliness into your willing body as he claimed you night after night, week after week.

He’d tell you sometimes in the afterglow of your orgasms that this was strengthening the squad, this was for the betterment of the scouts. Because what better way was there to build trust? You’d listen half heartedly, knowing this was all an excuse to rationalize why you continued seeking each other’s comfort.

Levi was soon fiercely protective of you, and you unconsciously him. This was reinforced after the 57th expedition failed horribly, the faces of your deceased squad members haunting your dreams every night. Levi would hold you as you sobbed through the nightmares. It hurt, so fucking much. Levi would whisper to you that you just had to keep moving forward. You would nod your head and listen. Your captain knew best, and you were finding it harder every passing day to pretend that he didn’t.

You didn’t try to make sense of your relationship, just letting it exist. Some days you’d push him away, others you’d pull the ravenette closer to your body. Caught between wanting to leave the man you’d realized you’d fallen in love with, or go into hiding away from the military with Levi and marry the son of a bitch. You liked to think he felt the same, his words few, but his acts spoke volumes of his feelings.

And when you laid limp on the battlefield, titan corpses steaming around you, your breaths shallow as your tired body began to prepare to shut down, you smiled. Everything all at once came flooding to you as you stared up at the sky, completely alone.

You blinked at the clouds, painted so pretty in pinks and oranges at the setting sun. You could hear your name being screamed somewhere in the distance, the voice vaguely familiar. You felt relief wash over you as the large open wound on your stomach gushed an unbelievable amount of blood. Full of shock, your adrenaline keeping your pain at bay, you thought humorously that you had no idea you had that much blood running through your body.

Raven hair and charcoal eyes entered your hazy vision, and you kept that smile on your face. Your fingers reached up, reaching Levi’s soaking cheek, not being able to tell if it was because of blood, or tears. You smoothed your thumb under his eye, and you were being lifted. You couldn’t hear his words, only the dullness of sound as the world continued to slow around you.

You stared at the clouds, completely at peace. You had conquered your biggest fear, growing close to another, just to lose them. Images of Levi flashes before your eyes, his stoic expression, his commanding leadership, his sensual caresses, his passionate kisses as he poured all of his feelings out for you. You loved him, you realized. You were so happy that you got to experience this in this lifetime.

The colors of the sky blurred together, and you could feel the wind whisk around you as Levi shot off on his odm gear. You were finally flying in the clouds.

#tw: blood #tw: death #tw: talk of death #tw: dying #tw: violence #tw: angst #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x y/n #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi #levi ackerman #tw: dark themes

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besanii · 3 years

Text

paper-thin

[ WangXian ; XiXian ]

The war is won!

Gusu is victorious!

Hanguang-wang is alive!

A sizeable crowd has gathered on the streets outside of the palace gates by the time Lan Wangji arrives, freshly bathed and changed out of his travel-weary and battle-worn armour into his formal robes. He dismounts as the guards approach, keeping the reins in his hand as he shows his pass; they grant him passage with a low bow, moving to the side as he leads his horse through the gates as quickly as decorum will allow.

The maids and eunuchs he passes on his way to the Hall of Mental Cultivation pay their respects with low bows and bent knees, lowering their gazes as they murmur his title with something akin to awe. He nods curtly in response but otherwise does not halt in his progress—it would not do to keep the Emperor waiting, war hero or not.

It's been over a year since he went to war, defending Gusu's coast against the invading forces of Dongying. The war had been harrowing and brutal and there were many times Lan Wangji where hadn't been sure he would survive. But he'd fought on with grit and tenacity, acutely aware of his role as a member of the Imperial family to lead and inspire his troops by example. That is, until a well-aimed arrow caught him in the shoulder between the plates of his armour, and sent him overboard in the midst of battle.

He’d survived. Barely.

The doors to the Imperial study are open when he arrives, and the eunuchs kneeling on either side of the door touch their foreheads to the ground in greeting. He walks up to the eunuch standing closest to the door.

“I am here to see the Emperor,” he says.

“Yes, Wangye,” the eunuch replies. He gets to his feet and turns to the door, raising his voice to announce: “Huangshang, Hanguang-wang begs an audience.”

They do not have to wait long for a response.

“Enter.”

The Emperor is still dressed in his court robes despite the lateness of the hour—the afternoon court session had been over for at least two shichen already—the black silk sleeves stark against the embroidered gold draped over the desk where he works. He puts his brush down as Lan Wangji parts the beaded curtain hanging from the archway leading into the main chamber, a smile already forming on his lips as he watches Lan Wangji kneel in the centre of the room.

“Your humble servant greets Huangshang,” Lan Wangji says, touching his forehead to the floor. “May our Emperor live for ten thousand years.”

“You may rise, Hanguang-wang,” the Emperor says. "We are very pleased to see you returned to the capital alive and well. Your service to the Empire will be duly rewarded."

Lan Wangji rises to his feet, sweeping over the invisible creases of his robe and shaking out his wide sleeves.

"Huangshang gives your subject too much credit," he replies. "I live to serve the Empire and will gladly give my life a thousand times over in its protection."

"Your devotion is recognised, Hanguang-wang, and appreciated," the Emperor says. "Nevertheless, a great victory such as this should be rewarded. Come, brother, is there anything you would wish for? Name it and it shall be granted."

Lan Wangji's hands curl into fists by his side.

"Huangshang would grant anything your subject wishes?" he asks quietly.

The smile on the Emperor's face freezes. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he swallows; he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. The smile smooths into something cooler, but no less genial.

"Anything within reason," he clarifies.

Lan Wangji exhales and bows his head.

"Your lowly subject dares to presume Huangshang knows what it is I wish for," he says, keeping his voice carefully level. "There is only one wish—one request—your lowly subject would make."

He hears the Emperor sigh, a low, disappointed sound, and his stomach sinks with realisation. But he had not dragged himself out of the depths of hell and back here to give up so easily. In the three months he had allowed himself to be presumed dead, laying feverish and close to death with an infected wound, it had been this one hope, this one wish that had kept him clinging to life. If he survived the war, won the war, then nothing would stop him from coming back and finally—finally—asking for the one thing he's wanted more than life itself.

When he chances an upward glance, the corner of the Emperor's lips are drawn in tight and the crease between his brows have deepened. Lan Wangji has had years to learn the shape of the Emperor's moods, even the ones he hides behind pleasantries and polite smiles, and he knows the Emperor is displeased.

"We would advise Hanguang-wang to make another request," he says finally. Do not continue to pursue this.

Lan Wangji drops to his knees. "Huangshang, you know there is nothing else I would ask for.”

“Wangji, enough!” The room stills. A sigh. “Leave us.”

The eunuchs and maids turn in unison and bow, backing out of the chamber without a word; the door to the study shuts behind them. Lan Wangji curls and uncurls his fists against his thighs, breathing heavily through his nose as he struggles to get his heart rate back under control. He hears the rustle of fabric, followed by footsteps from behind the desk coming towards him, but he dares not raise his eyes.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says in an odd, stilted tone Lan Wangji has never heard before. “There is something you should know.”

Eunuchs and palace maids alike cower in the wake of his fury, scattering to the winds as soon as he passes. No one stops to question why a male member of the Imperial family aside from the Emperor and his sons is here, unaccompanied, within the gilded walls of the inner palace. Perhaps word had been sent ahead of his arrival, perhaps they had been expecting him--whatever the reason, Lan Wangji knows he would cut down anyone who dares stand in his way right now.

His mind is still reeling as he turns the corner along the once-familiar path that winds through the Imperial gardens, his feet following the route ingrained into him as a child still living within the palace walls.

He hasn't walked this path in close to fifteen years. Not much has changed: the trees and the flowers are the same--still the delicate gentians favoured by the previous mistress of this particular courtyard—only now there are also lotuses surrounding the small pavilion in the heart of the man-made pond, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. And inside that pavilion, an entirely different person is silhouetted against the afternoon sun.

A skirmish arose between Yunmeng and Qishan involving Qishan-hou's second son.

Wen-er-gongzi was injured in the confrontation.

He takes a step forward, his feet suddenly heavy as though weighed down by boulders, dragging along the gravel. The person in the pavilion is still too far to have noticed him, but Lan Wangji has a clear view of the long black hair twisted up into a half-knot to expose the line of a long, slender neck, held in place by a fanzhan made of silver and set with blue sapphires. The sight of it makes his throat run dry.

Qishan demanded retribution for the injuries inflicted on Wen-er-gongzi. The life of his attacker.

Both Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen were each presented with a set the rare jewels at their coming of age, a mark of their status as members of the Imperial family. To see the same jewels adorning the familiar head of hair—

We believed you dead, Wangji.

He drags his feet another step forward, the breath catching in his throat as the person in the pavilion half-turns at the sound.

We needed to protect him.

“Who goes there?” a eunuch calls, hurrying around the corner along the path around the pond. “This is Wei-xuanyi’s private garden, outsiders are not perm—”

“It’s alright, let him through.”

A lump forms in his throat so large he can barely breathe around it without pain; whatever hope of this being a cruel joke is crushed at the familiar voice. How many times in the past year has he heard it in his dreams? How many times has the memory of that voice called him back from the gates of Hell itself, when the rest of the world thought him dead?

The eunuch drops to his knees on the side of the garden path and bows his head; Lan Wangji takes this as a sign to proceed.

As a child, the garden path had always seemed wide and inviting; it had always led to his mother, the late Empress, the only source of light and happiness and home in his childhood. And yet now all he feels is dread, cold and dark, seeping out through the cracks in the surface of his façade with every step.

Lan Xichen’s words ring in his ears.

Wangji, it was the only way we could save him.

He stops at the bottom of the steps leading into the pavilion. Four steps. Just four steps, and yet his legs refuse to move, to take even just one more step forward; it is as though his body is fighting with everything it has against it. He can't move.

He is unsure how long he stands there at the bottom of the steps boring holes into the paved stones—it is difficult to keep track when one's mind is filled with the deafening roar of one's own heartbeat. It is not until the sound of footsteps, followed by a rush of activity in his periphery as the palace maids and eunuchs fall to their knees in unison, does he finally raise his eyes.

There, standing at the top of the steps, clad in soft, flowing robes of Gusu blue and Yunmeng purple, with Lan Xichen's jewels in his hair—

Wangji. Wei Wuxian—

Wei Wuxian lowers his head and bends at the knees, his fingertips clasped lightly by his hip. A demure greeting, wildly unsuitable for a member of the gentry.

“Hanguang-wang,” he murmurs. He raises his eyes slightly, enough to peer at Lan Wangji from beneath his lashes. Demure. Restrained.

The ground crumbles beneath Lan Wangji’s feet.

—I have taken Wei Wuxian as a consort.

Translations

Wangye (王爺) - equivalent of a Duke, usually Emperor’s brother or uncle

Huangshang (皇上) - the Emperor; as per usual, I only use the pinyin when the term is used when directly addressing LXC

hou (侯) - equivalent of Marquis, second highest rank after 王

xuanyi (宣儀) - lit. ‘Propagator of Deportment’, a variant of the Tang dynasty concubine ranking pin (嬪) that doesn’t use feminine qualities; the second highest rank after furen/zande (夫人/贊德), used between 662-670 (possibly under Wu Zetian’s influence)

fazhan (髮簪) - hair ornament/pin

Notes

Title is taken from the Chinese phrase boming (薄命), which means to have an unlucky fate (usually in reference to women). It literally translates to “thin life/fate”. Inspired by a line in the song 雪落下的聲音 (the sound of snowfall; Story of Yanxi Palace OST): 此生如纸般薄命 - this life, my fate is as thin as paper.

For those of you wondering where the hell I’m going with this—I have no fucking clue lmao. I just wanted to write WangXian angst with a dose of XiXian that doesn’t involve Dark!LXC for once. I also cannot be bothered to look back on this anymore, so any mistakes are purely cos I’ve given up working on this any further hahahahahaha *dies*

Inspired by a mish-mash of Story of Yanxi Palace (Fuheng x Yinglou reunion anyone???) and Empress of China (mostly the OST, but also the gorgeous costuming and setting of the Tang Dynasty).

Will I continue it? Maybe??? It took me weeks to even get my ass into gear to write this one snippet, I honestly don’t know if I will get around to writing more. But if it interests you, send me an ask about the ‘verse and I’ll try and expand more on it, even if it’s just headcanon form and not fic.

buy me a ko-fi!

#my writing #wangxian #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #薄命 #王爺機 x 妃子羡 #lan xichen #xixian #consort!wwx #emperor!lxc #duke!lwj #lan wangji x wei wuxian #lan xichen x wei wuxian #🔪🔪#harem au #imperial au #set in the Tang Dynasty if we REALLY have to specify lol #paper thin fic

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chemicalpink · 3 years

Text

Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really, who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #bts imagines #btshoneyhive #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtansorciere

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

I Did Not Sign Up For This

For @whumptober2021 day nine: presumed dead | tears

Ladies, gents, and nonbinary friends... Speak Out.

CW: Referenced presumed death of a teen child in the past, grief, BBU, referenced pet whump, some references to past noncon and torture, sheer badassery from Kauri and Chris

“Hey, sweetie.” Jennifer Harker sits down on the little bench, leaning back, closing her eyes. “It’s been a rough week. We missed a deadline at work, thanks to Charles. You remember Charles? He started a few months before you went to college.”

The leaves rustle in the tree above her, a breeze moving through them. Sometimes she tries to see it as a sign that he hears her, that he's listening, wherever he is now.

She looks up, watching a robin who is looking right back at her, its red breast visible, in contrast to the green summer leaves. It takes off in a flurry of brownish-gray wings, and she sighs, looking back at the small stone marker she keeps in the yard off to the side of her house.

If the neighbors hear her talking out here, well, they get it. They’ve lived here since before Liam was born, they knew him as well as anyone else did.

It's not the first time Jennifer Harker has spoken to her dead son like this.

“In any case, well. I’ll just say I’m glad he’s going to retire soon. I’m not sure how much longer I can take his nonsense. Bullshit, you’d have said, I think. Keira’s home now, did you know that? She’s here to help me pack up-... pack up some stuff. Put it in storage or something. Honestly, so much of it’s… it’s not like anyone’s going to need your old books.” She gives a little laugh, maybe too breathy. “Keira always says I hold on to too much of you. That I don’t admit you’re gone, but you know, I do, it’s just… I liked having the pieces of you still here. Honestly, I think... I think she's having problems with that boyfriend again. I keep telling her, she deserves better, but she just-... she can't see it. I think she still blames herself for what happened to you."

She swallows, her throat tightening. This many years later and the tears still heat in her eyes. She has to close them tightly and breathe, in and out, until the feeling fades.

“Anyway-... I shouldn't think about it. I might just tell her I put it in storage and... not. If I never get r-rid of anything, Lee-Lee, it’s like you’re still here, right? Like you could come home on break from school any second now. Like maybe it’s just… all been the world’s longest fucking bad dream-”

She groans, rubbing her hand over her forehead, slowly leaning forward. Her throat closes against her grief, which slams into her like a body blow.

They say it gets easier, but they don't tell you that it only does that to lie in wait for the next time. The whole universe within her revolts at what she is, a mother with one missing child.

She looks with blurry teary eyes towards the stone. She'd ordered the little marker because she couldn’t find any reason for a tombstone or even a grave, but she wanted something to visit. It’s just a stone rectangle, vertical, and she has his name carved into it, and a line from a poem he wrote in high school.

LIAM HARKER Do you fear the lack of love Or the way love will burn you alive and leave nothing but ashes behind? Then, at the very bottom, her own words:

You were worth the burning, Liam.

Keira told her it was a morbid thing, but Jennifer had loved that poem so much when Liam showed it to her, and more importantly, he had loved it. She couldn’t imagine any other words for his memorial.

“I’m sorry,” She apologizes to her dead son, or to the tree or the bird she scared away. A squirrel chitters nearby. A lawn mower drones somewhere in the background in the small town. “It’s just been a week. The… the anniversary’s getting closer, that’s always rough for me. You’d only been at school a little while when-... when you went missing. July and August… oh, I hate July and August. You spent all of July out with your friends getting in those last hurrahs before college, we moved you in, and then… then y-you were gone.”

She exhales, slowly, looking at the tree. Memorizing, as she has a hundred times, the pattern of the bark.

“You’ve been gone so long,” She says, softly. “What will I do once you’ve been gone longer than you were here, Liam? What do I do then? Keira wants me to sell the house and move, go somewhere smaller, easier to care for. It’s just me most days rattling around in there, but I can’t-... you wrote your name on the wall of your closet when you were five and a half. How can I-... how can I leave everything that’s left of you behind?”

She shifts around, turning to pull her book out of her purse where it sits beside her.

“Well. I don’t have to make that decision today. I’m going to read for a bit, honey. Do you mind if I sit here?”

He doesn’t answer, but she likes to think he wouldn’t mind if he were still here. They used to sit near each other for hours, each with a nose buried in a book. When he was little he’d snuggle in against her side and fall asleep like that reading, his hands slowly going lax, eyes drifting shut. When he was older, he’d dogear a page or two and she’d pretend not to notice.

As it is, Jennifer sits and reads, enjoying the peace and quiet of the small-town afternoon.

The front door slams open suddenly, making her jump and turn to look over her shoulder. Keira stands on the front porch, leaning on the railing. Her hair is a wild riot of black curls around her face and down her back, and her skin is paper-white except for bright red blotches in her cheeks. “Mom!”

There’s a tone in her voice that rings every damn Mom-alarm in Jennifer’s body and she’s on her feet immediately, closing her book. “What’s up, Kee? Is something wrong?”

“The, the TV… television… Mom, please, you have to come now!”

Before she can ask for clarification, Keira’s already disappeared right back into the house, and Jennifer grabs her purse and book, walking quickly over the lawn. Her mind races - it could be something like a terrorist attack or something, maybe, but it’s unlike Keira to act like that. She’s bitter, Jennifer’s only living child, but she’s also strangely calm.

Jennifer asked, once, what had happened to her previously anxious little girl. Keira had looked at her with the same bright blue eyes Liam had and answered, the worst thing that I can imagine happened when I was eighteen, Mom. My brother was abducted right in front of me and murdered and they never even found a body. Nothing scares me anymore. Nothing could possibly happen to me that’s worse than seeing him get put in that van and not being able to stop it.

The worst part is, Jennifer knows what she means.

Once you’ve lost a child - or a twin brother, the other half of your identity from birth - there just isn’t anything worse than that when it comes to the wound it tears into your soul.

She opens the door and walks inside, veering to the right. “Keira, talk to me, honey. What’s wrong? What’s on TV?”

Keira, standing white-faced with her hands pressed over her mouth, turns to look at her. Her blue eyes are ringed in panicked white. “I, I saw him, Mom,” She says, her voice shaking, weak, barely-there. “I saw him!”

“Saw him?” Jennifer blinks. “Saw who?”

“I swear, I swear I saw him just a second ago, I know it was him, I know it, I-I know it was him, I know-”

“Keira, for God’s sake, who?”

Keira turns to look back at the screen. “Mom, look, look, just look!”

Jennifer follows her gaze, noting dimly that she can see the little symbol for the summer Olympics at the bottom right of the screen. There’s a redhead standing at a small podium, a young man a few years younger than her twins, with a wicked scar across his forehead.

He speaks, stammering through his words, while one of the Olympic athletes for the USA, one Jennifer vaguely recognizes as one of the gymnasts, holds onto one of his hands. There are others seated at the table, other athletes. A girl in a hijab with dark eyes that spit fire through the TV screen holds up a photo of a handsome young man with stubble and curly dark hair. A blond man holds a photo of a pretty girl smiling over one shoulder, what looks like a senior portrait for high school. Every single person at the table, she realizes, is holding a photo of someone.

Her eyes scan the uniforms - Canada, Iran, the UK, South Korea, Brazil, Australia, Mexico...

“We, we, we were stolen,” The young man at the podium says firmly, but even through the TV screen Jennifer can see his knuckles are white from how hard he’s holding onto his friend. “We were, so many of us were stolen. It’s, they lie. WRU lies. They, they, they lie. And, and I can prove it.”

There’s a screen behind him that lights up with a projected image.

On the screen is-

“Christ Almighty,” Jennifer breathes, and her heart hammers through her chest so hard she nearly feels life itself leave her.

It's Liam.

Her son, eighteen years old then, stares back at her in a black-and-white image, gagged and bound, glaring daggers at whoever took the photo. He has a bruise on his cheek and a heavy black collar around his neck, the white shirt and black shorts of the stereotypical WRU look from the movies.

Jennifer had always figured that bit was exaggerated.

Apparently not.

“Why-... why is he-”

“Mom, I saw him,” Keira whispers, and tears are running down her face. Jennifer slides her arms around her daughter, feels her head slowly move to lean against her mother. They stare at the screen together, memorizing this image of someone they haven’t seen in a decade, someone who died so, so long ago.

Or so they thought.

“I saw him in th-the crowd, I saw him,” Keira whimpers, her voice catching on a sob. “I saw him, I saw him, I saw-”

“Sssshhhh, it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“I, I, I can prove that WRU… lies,” The boy at the podium says again. “Because I, I, I can, I… can remember what happened to me.”

Another person steps out from behind the curtain that backs the table the athletes sit at. Short as she remembers, with a halo of wild black curls to rival Jennifer’s daughter, their father’s hair. She can see how blue his eyes are even through a screen and from a camera that isn’t anywhere close to him.

“My baby,” She whispers, and tightens her arms around Keira, who sobs beside her.

His voice has gotten deeper, but he still sounds like her son as Liam moves up to the microphone, stares into the screen, and says loudly, “And so can I.”

“Lee-Lee,” Keira whimpers. “It’s Liam, Mom, he’s-... I knew it, I knew i never felt him die, I knew it, I knew it I knew it I knew it!”

“My name is Kauri Grant,” He says at the podium. The redheaded boy holds his hand, now, while he speaks. The photo behind him changes to a later one, her son smiling in a pretty, placid sort of way next to a man Jennifer vaguely recognizes as some kind of movie bigwig, but not enough to place his name. “I was told I gave myself away, to be turned into the live-in lapdog for movie producer Owen Grant.”

The photo changes again. This time it’s a soundless video recording of the same WRU-uniformed version of Liam from before, fighting two of those WRU guards who forcefully subdue him. There’s no sound, sure, but Jennifer knows when the small screen body goes rigid and she sees his wide-open mouth that he’s screaming.

Back to another still photo, of Liam in a loose pair of black pants and a blue sweater with a white-gold jeweled collar around his neck, sitting in the lap of the celebrity - Owen Grant? - from before. Jennifer’s stomach turns in sudden disgust.

Her son was-

Had been living as-

“I escaped,” He keeps speaking, and Jennifer feels Keira beside her shivering as the two of them can’t take their eyes off the screen, off a ghost come back to life. “And I’ve been finding my way back from what they did to me ever since. I’m here today before WRU will tell you that I signed a contract, that I knew what I was doing, that I thought it was a better choice than whatever way I was living before. I’m here because WRU lies.”

“WRU lies,” The table full of athletes says in unison, some spitting, some nearly emotionless. All of them hold up the photos of the people in their hands.

“WRU, they, they lie,” The redhead says, tremulously, and Jennifer watches her son’s expression shift to tenderness, as he turns and whispers something to the redhead. The young man nods in return, and Liam smiles, soft and gentle. The two of them briefly lean in together, Liam’s forehead resting against the redhead’s.

He’s still whispering, although she can’t hear what he says.

His smile widens.

“That’s my baby,” Jennifer whispers. “That’s my baby’s smile.” She has a photo of a little boy with that exact brilliant shining smile, those sparkling blue eyes, holding up a wet leaf hanging off a stick while proudly declaring he'd been 'fishing' in mud puddles. When he was born, he and Keira, everyone had said their eyes would change color but no, they’d stayed that crystal blue. Both of them. And there he is, there’s his eyes, his smile, his expression, her dead son breathing and alive. “Please, please, please, Lee-Lee, please-”

He turns back and it’s like he’s looking directly at her through the screen, looking right at her, for the first time in ten years.

When she’d teared up hugging he and Keira after moving them into their dorms in college, he’d given her that look while saying, we’ll be okay, Mom. We’re going to be okay.

And then he wasn’t.

Then he wasn’t.

He wasn’t okay.

But God Almighty, he’s right there on TV and he’s okay now.

“WRU lied about everything,” He says, as the photo behind him changes to show him still wearing the clothes he’d gone missing in, lying insensible on the floor of some white featureless room. A man walks in, and again she doesn’t have to hear Liam to know he’s screaming as soon as the man grabs his wrists and forces them above his head, sitting heavily on his pelvis.

Keira, next to her, gasps. “Oh, my God,” She whispers. “Oh, my God. Oh, my god oh my god oh my god oh my god-”

Jennifer’s cell phone starts to ring. Then her home phone rings. Then Keira’s phone rings.

They don’t move.

They don’t even hear it.

The video shows the man slapping her son across the face, grinning like a demon down at his pain and fear. He twists free and throws a punch, connecting with the man’s cheek only to jerk his hand back and shake it out. Then he’s the one to take a punch, the back of his head smacking hard into tile before he goes still, dazed.

The video catches the WRU guard leaning slowly over him before it cuts out, back to the first photo with the bruising and the defiance in her son’s eyes.

“I am proof that WRU lies,” Her son says, strong and solid and god, he’s alive.

He pauses, and just like the first time when he was eight weeks old, Jennifer begins to cry at the sight of her son’s smile. Beside her, Keira is already crying, and they hold each other so tightly it would hurt if either of them could even begin to notice.

“I know exactly who I am,” He says, and his smile is brilliant and beautiful, his blue eyes sparkle, and Jennifer’s mind screams he’s alive he’s alive he’s alive. “I’m Kauri Grant, but I was someone else, before. My name was Liam Harker, and I did not sign up for this.”

The press conference, until now so silent a pin could drop, erupts in a sudden roar.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @what-a-whump

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