#just kinda proved how little i grasp of snow though

[ushittyoldman]

nobody’s fault but mine (pt. 2)

Levi wouldn’t really be Levi if he knew how to handle his intense feelings for you.

pairing. levi x fem!reader AND a little bit of jean x fem!reader (b/c once again i am a slut 4 jean too)

warnings. some fluff, language (b prepared for a lot of the f-bomb)

a/n. hi sorry 4 the long wait, life is a little hectic rn (it’s snowing n our power has been going out on n off for the past few days lmfao also school b lowkey kicking my ass) BUT i wanted 2 say thank u so so much 4 all ur feedback to part 1 it was so so so unexpected n sweet n flattering i literally still can’t wrap my head around it. i would rly appreciate some feedback 2 this one too since this is A LOT more levi n i actually adored writing him but i would luv 2 know what u guys think of my characterization of him (im a little nervy) but yes feedback is encouraged! this is kinda long but a lot happens so i rly hope u guys appreciate this n enjoy it bc it took me so long 2 write n rewrite it heheheh (side note 4 the sake of age n everything, all the 104th cadets r actually 18+ including our cute lil reader) also! pls continue 2 request more levi ok that’s it 4 now enjoy!

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

“Jean!”

The hushed voices stirred you out of the pleasant state of unconsciousness you had been in. A sharp pain shot through your head as you slowly opened your eyes, blinking quickly to adjust to the bright light. You flexed your fingers subtly as an attempt to gain awareness of yourself and your surroundings. Once you were comfortable, you slowly turned your head to your right and saw a scene you had grown painfully familiar with– Jean arguing with someone. The victim of the week was Armin, and you almost wanted to laugh at the quick back-and-forth between the two.

“Your bedside manner… sucks,” you managed to mumble. You cringed at the uncharacteristic hoarseness of your voice.

“There she is!” Jean exclaimed, shooting a victorious smirk at Armin, before fondly looking down at you, as he moved closer to your side.

You heard multiple gasps of your name, and you quickly turned your head to your left, before regretting it due to the sharp pang that followed in your head. Nevertheless, you mustered up as bright a smile as you could, looking at your friends who had all taken various positions throughout the room. Eren was the first to your bed, embracing you tightly.

“That was scary,” he softly mumbled your name, before pulling back, “Don’t do that again.”

The concern on his face startled you momentarily, and you couldn’t help but avert your eyes. You blinked quickly before looking up and shyly smiling at Eren.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You then looked up at your fellow cadets, who stood surrounding your small bed in the infirmary. Your love for these people sat heavily in your chest, and you beamed up at them, before you realized you were in the infirmary.

“What happened?” you genuinely asked, your husky voice taking you by surprise again.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what happened!” Jean scowled, crossing his arms in anger, “That little bastard—”

“Jean, you can’t say that about the Captain!” Sasha chided, looking sideways in fear as if to emphasize her point.

“Captain, my ass!”

You attempted to stifle your giggling, yet your mood significantly dropped upon remembering Levi’s treatment towards you this past month. You tried to conceal your obviously bothered expression, but you felt a hand softly ruffle your hair. You looked up and smiled at Reiner.

“Don’t sweat it, kiddo, I’m sure he’ll tone down the punishments after this,” he reassured, obviously mistaking your dejection over your unreciprocated feelings for Levi for something else.

Appreciating the gesture, you continued to smile up at him while nodding softly. Reiner had a comforting presence, and you felt your mood brighten slightly.

“Fingers crossed,” you deadpanned, earning a soft laugh from Bertholdt, who had taken a seat at the foot of your bed.

Jean’s relentless bashing of the Captain continued, as Sasha, Connie, and Armin attempted to calm him down, warning him about the consequences they’d all have to face if word got back to Levi. Eren gritted his teeth in irritation, as he glared up at Jean, threatening to “knock him out if he didn’t shut up,” while Mikasa had silently moved around the chaos to rest her calloused hand on your own, silently squeezing as a gesture of comfort. You squeezed back.

“Look, all I’m saying is he obviously has it out for her. She’s a better soldier than all of us– even you, titan boy— and it’s still not good enough? I call bullshit!”

“I think he’s just trying to be a good teacher, I’m sure there’s a lot I can still improve on,” you justified, and all eyes turned to you.

“There’s not,” Mikasa bluntly stated, leaving no room for argument.

Your friends all agreed, and you scrunched your nose playfully to conceal the warmth that had spread throughout your body at their praise. You worked hard to get where you were– there was a satisfaction in knowing that all of your effort wasn’t going unacknowledged.

“Jean-boy’s right—”

“Bastard!”

“—Captain Levi has been unnecessarily cruel to her, and we’ve all noticed it!” Eren’s fists clenched in anger as he ignored Jean’s yelling.

“But the Captain isn’t the type to hold grudges or act impulsively, so I think there’s something deeper to it,” Armin reasoned, apologetically glancing at you in case his words offended you.

You nodded softly, not wanting to worsen your headache; however, it didn’t really matter when Jean’s painfully loud voice retaliated almost immediately.

“He overworked her to the point of her passing out from exhaustion and severe dehydration!” His eyebrows furrowed in anger, and his sandy brown hair bounced with his every move.

You winced from the pain in your head, and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Reiner, who glanced at you from where he stood.

“Jean— inside voice, yeah?” Reiner softly spoke, subtly tilting his head down towards you. Jean’s gaze softened and concern replaced the anger on his contorted features, as he apologized to you.

“Yeah, seriously, what are you getting so worked up for?” Connie innocently asked, before a knowing look crossed his features. He turned to his partner-in-crime, and the two donned shit-eating grins as they turned back to Jean.

“Right, that’s why.”

Bertholdt, whose lanky body had been horizontally lying across the bed comfortably, sat up onto his elbows and cluelessly asked, “What’s why?”

Sasha’s smile widened, and she crossed her arms, mimicking Connie’s knowing smirk. “It’s because Jean-boy, here, is sweet on our dear little—”

“Would you shut up!” Jean yelled louder than before, fists shaking in anger. His face was flushed an impossible shade of red, and you would’ve joined in on the laughter, had your head not exploded from the pain.

You were fully aware of the incessant teasing Jean received regarding his relationship with you, and you would honestly be lying if you said you didn’t get a kick out of it as well. Deciding to spare your friend today, you sent a good-natured smile to him, hoping that would be enough to quell his frustration.

Had you not turned to converse with Eren, you wouldn’t have missed Jean’s dazed smile.

While talking to Eren, your mind briefly drifted to Levi and the situation that was weighing heavily on you. You didn’t want to believe that the Captain hated you– you desperately grasped onto your excuse that he was simply a harsh teacher. And yet, you knew there was something more to it.

In a panic-driven moment, you momentarily wondered if he had somehow found out about your feelings for him. You remembered him telling you about his upbringing— you knew better than most that Levi and confessions of love did not go together... at all. Before you could further dig yourself deeper into the pitiful hole you had been in the past month, a painfully familiar voice broke through your intrusive thoughts.

“You know how loud you are? This isn’t a damn daycare.”

“Sir!”

All conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt. You couldn’t help but grow amused at the sight of Eren and Bertholdt scrambling off your bed to stand and salute their superior. Your small smile was wiped off your face when your eyes met stormy grey ones. You quickly looked down, before inhaling quickly and swiftly pulling your bedsheets back. You attempted to muster as much strength as you could, ignoring the multiple eyes on you. You gracefully stood up from the bed, and turned to Levi, managing the salute as well. You slowly looked up at him.

“Sir,” you shakily mumbled, internally cringing once again at the uncharacteristic rasp to your voice.

You received proud looks of admiration from your friends, though Jean’s remained more concerned than proud. Idiot! he thought to himself. We know you’re strong, now’s not the time to prove it!

Levi, meanwhile, had tried his very best to suppress the guilt that had been eating away at him for the past day; however, it had only worsened when he saw you and heard your weak voice. Upon making eye contact with you, he almost wanted to fall to his knees and apologize profusely for everything he had put you through, audience be damned. 

Levi had spent the better half of the day pacing around your room in the infirmary wing of the Scout Regiment’s base, lost deeply in his thoughts, as his concern for you weighed heavily in his heart. After a few more hours of pacing, he had finally come to the conclusion that he was an idiot (a grade A, unique brand of idiot all in a league of his very own), and that he was in love with you.

Where the first realization annoyed him to high heaven, the second one brought him a sense of peace that was only heightened every time he had looked at your unconscious form.

Levi, uncomfortable with the amount of self-actualizing he had done that day, had left the room after softly caressing your cheek, hoping to convey all of his guilt and apologies and love into the simple gesture. Once he was away from the infirmary wing of the base, he inhaled deeply, itching for the comfort of a cup of warm tea. On his way to the mess hall, he had passed by your friends from the 104th, all undoubtedly on their way to see you. Levi’s eyebrow had slightly risen upon noticing the varying looks of defiance and anger on each of their faces. He had remained unfazed, his half-lidded eyes looking away, as if he hadn’t even seen them at all.

Somehow, it was harder to face them now with you standing amongst them. 

His face retained its usual impassive and bored expression, yet it momentarily faltered when he noticed you slightly stumble from where you were standing next to the hospital bed. Levi’s heartbeat quickened, and he made a subtle move to rush over to you to catch you for the second time that day, but Jean was quicker. The taller man had been keeping a watchful eye on you, and had quickly dropped his salute to stand behind you and steady your slightly uncoordinated form. You comfortably relaxed backwards into his arms as you sent a grateful smile up at him, and he softly smiled back in response, leading you back to the bed.

Levi was both relieved and a little fucking pissed off.

“Visiting hours are over— I need to talk to the brat,” he lazily said, authority ringing loudly and clearly in his command.

For the first time in all his years of captaining the scouts, there was a quick hesitation after his command.

Levi raised an unamused eyebrow at each of the cadets, silently challenging them to disobey him. Despite his threatening aura, he wouldn’t blame any of your friends if they were to defy Levi. The Captain deserved it for his treatment of you— he’d take it like a man.

Your eyes widened in surprise when your friends subtly glanced at you, silently asking if it was okay to leave you alone with him. Upon hearing Levi’s request to talk to you, your heart had begun to uncontrollably race and you swore you could feel it in your throat. You were disappointed in yourself for growing excited at finally being able to talk to him. 

Blinking quickly, your cheeks grew hot under everyone’s gazes, so you reassuringly smiled at your eight friends, and you once again felt the genuine love you had for them erupt within your heart. 

Ever the peacemaker of the group, Armin signaled for the rest to follow him out of the room, and they each uncertainly walked behind him. Mikasa squeezed your hand once more before following closely behind Eren, who sent you an encouraging smile. Bertholdt subtly sent a thumbs up to you, while Reiner winked at you as he looked over his broad shoulder. Your smile widened; however, it faltered when your eyes met Jean’s. His irritated expression worried you, yet before you could respond, he turned away and walked past Levi.

Levi had to give it to Jean— not many people had the balls to openly glare at the Captain.

Once everyone was gone, the tension within the room increased tenfold. You looked at Levi, and you bit your lip in contemplation, anticipating what he would say. Many thoughts rang through your head.

Was it another punishment? Was he going to yell at me? Did he find out about my fee–

“How do you feel?”

You almost had to pinch yourself. After one month of barely any interactions with your friend— if you were still even allowed to call him that— you realized how starved you were for pleasant conversation with Levi.

“I’ve been better,” you breathed out, still cautious. “How… how do you feel?”

Even after such an unpleasant experience, your unwavering kindness shone just as brightly. Levi’s heart ached so sweetly, and he internally groaned upon realizing how fucking whipped he was.

He silently stepped forward, pulling a seat to the side of your bed. Once he was seated, Levi looked into your eyes, and you felt your breath hitch at the intensity of the swirl of emotions dancing within his normally cold eyes. He exhaled softly.

You noticed how tired he looked.

“Just peachy.”

There was a pregnant pause, and you came to realize that there was just too much you wanted to say to him, and you didn’t know where to start. Your soft eyes held his sharp gaze.

“You scared the shit out of me, brat.”

Your heart involuntarily skipped a beat, and your eyes widened in response.

“I did?” you internally slapped yourself at your stupid response.

“Yeah. You did.”

“Sorry, sir,” you softly mumbled.

“Levi… just Levi.”

The Levi in front of you was a completely different man from the one who you’ve had the pleasure of interacting with over the past month. You thought back to your friends and their anger at your mistreatment, and you thought of the many unfair punishments, cold shoulder treatments, and overworking during training (despite you being second only to Humanity’s Strongest, himself). Slowly, your incredulity at being treated like a lapdog began to dim and was replaced by your growing indignation. Though you were no stranger to standing up for yourself, you still felt your anxiety skyrocket as you looked back up at your superior.

“Do you hate me, Captain? Did I… did I do something?”

And there it was.

Levi knew the question would come up at some point, and yet he still felt ill-prepared in his response. He knew this was a big step for you— in the whole year that he’s gotten to know you, he learned how much you hated confrontation. You blatantly ignoring his request and choosing to address him by his title caught his attention, and he frowned. When he looked into your slightly watery eyes, a warmth spread throughout his chest, and he had to clear his throat.

“Don’t say shit like that, you haven’t done anything.”

Levi wanted to punch himself— he was never good with words.

You, however, weren’t fazed by the manner in which he spoke. You had fallen for the man, harsh words and all.

“Then why have you—” you paused as you momentarily lost your voice.

Levi thought it was cute (to be fair, he found everything about you endearing), yet he knew it would be inappropriate to openly admire you when you were so clearly upset with him.

“Sorry,” you grew embarrassed and licked your lips, “It’s just… well, why have you been ignoring me? And— and yelling at me? We stopped drinking tea together, and practicing in the forests. You don’t even acknowledge me when I talk to you! I’m sure you have a really good reason, sir, but I just—”

Levi detested the sick feeling of guilt that churned within his heart. In hindsight, he really should’ve thought it through before he began his little plan of distancing himself from you. How else was he supposed to tell you oh, everyone in the fucking Scout Regiment wants you, and so do I, but I haven’t done anything about it because I’m a pussy, so I just decided to take it out on you and wallow in my own self-pity like the sad little man I am, without sounding like he was deranged.

“—I just miss you.”

Levi’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and his breath hitched. This time it was the sincerity in your eyes that made him look away quickly.

“I…”

I’ve missed you too, dammit.

At his lack of a response, your eyebrows furrowed, and your irritation grew. Your small hands balled the soft bedsheet, and you swallowed to soften the burn in your throat before speaking.

“Why did you even come here?” you scoffed indignantly, attempting to mask your hurt, “Was it to just to yell at me some more? Oh, I know! Maybe I need to run through training ten more times again, right?”

The guilt churned even more in his chest, and Levi seriously wanted to punch himself. He willed himself to say something— anything— but he felt speechless in front of you.

“Levi,” you hoarsely spoke with desperation, and he looked into your watery eyes. “Say something, please.”

It was as if you had read his mind, and a slight feeling of reassurance quelled the storm in his heart; you really were the only one for him. As he met your eyes— your beautiful, enchanting eyes— he felt his self-hatred skyrocket at the amount of hurt in them. He had grown used to seeing them filled with humor, kindness, and a soft edge that was rare to find nowadays. Yet seeing them filled with such pain and hurt was unsettling, and Levi went mute for the fifth time that day.

You nodded in understanding when he failed to say anything, and your heart clenched. Jean had been right— you were nothing more than a lovesick puppy. You blinked quickly as a poor attempt to conceal your tears, yet nothing ever escaped the Captain’s attention.

His gaze softened, and Levi found out something else about himself— he really didn’t like seeing you cry.

“Shit, please don’t cry,” he tenderly mumbled, as he leaned closer to you and gently cupped your face to wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumb. 

Your breath hitched and your full lips involuntarily parted. You relished in the warmth of his touch, and you wanted nothing more than to lean into his comforting hand. Your name fell from his lips, and you felt yourself come back to reality. Remembering just how you had gotten into this situation, you decided to stand your ground. Despite everything in your body begging to give in and accept this moment with the Captain, you stood unwavering in your decision.

You gently grabbed his large hand with both your hands, and moved it away from your face and into your lap. You held it there loosely and delicately rubbed your fingers over his hand soothingly before eventually stopping, and looking back up at him.

His usual bored expression was long gone, and in its place was a very tender and vulnerable expression. A storm was brewing in his grey eyes, and you distantly remembered stargazing once with him. You had desperately wished you could read his thoughts— somehow, you had found his daunting eyes more fascinating than the starry sky. You felt an ache in your heart at the intimate memories, and you really really wished Levi loved you the way you love him.

“You know what, Levi? It doesn’t even matter if you hate me, because—” you inhaled sharply. 

This has to be done, you reassured yourself, or else you’d be subjecting yourself to an onslaught of hurt and heartbreak. 

“—Because I hate you.”

Your lip quivered and your broken voice faltered. And of course, Levi noticed.

His eyes darted down to your lips at the slight movement. His hands had stilled, and he decided that getting eaten by a damn titan would be much less painful than this.

And then he’s looking at you. You looked back at him, yet he’s looking at you— through you— in that way that makes you want to hide and hold your ground at the same time.

“Right,” Levi drawled, and you knew he didn’t believe you (hell, you were unconvinced yourself). His eyes reverted back to their cold nature, and he ran a hand through his hair, allowing the silky strands to softly land against his forehead.

He stood up, and wordlessly gave you a onceover. Under his scrutiny, you felt yourself grow insecure, but deep down you desperately hoped he’d stay. You bit your bottom lip in apprehension, and Levi’s eyes softened at the sight of your nervous habit.

How is it that he could kill titans all the livelong day yet when it came to this sweet girl, so small and disarming, he couldn’t even utter a single word?

Levi had never felt more pathetic. He peered down at you, momentarily debating whether it would be right for him to attempt one last thing before finally deciding fuck it, and gently cupping your cheek for the third time that day, bending down, and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He gingerly inhaled your enticing scent, appreciating how even after the hell he had put you through, you still smelled so alluring.

You were positive that Levi could hear your heartbeat. You blinked many times in disbelief, as he pulled away and sent one last lingering gaze down at you. 

Levi slightly smirked at the pretty blush that had colored your cheeks, his half-lidded eyes drinking in the mesmerizing sight of you sitting up in your bed and gaping up at him, your cheeks flushed and wet with the remnants of your tears. He turned around and silently left the room. 

He had ignored every part of his body that begged him to stay.

▲▼▲

“Shut up, I can barely hear them!”

“Ow— Bertholdt, you’re stepping on my foot!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Watch it, horse face!”

“Eren.”

“You piece of shit, I’m—”

The piece of bread that had been tightly held in Sasha’s grip suddenly fell to the floor. Everyone went silent.

“Holy shit, I think… I think he just kissed her.”

Jean really hoped Sasha was wrong. 

He decided to ignore the fact that her freakishly good hearing bordered on supernatural, so there was really no way she could’ve been wrong with a mere wooden door standing between her and the conversation.

“I knew there was something going on between them! Reiner— pay up.”

Reiner muttered several curses under his breath as he pulled out a hefty stack of cash from his pocket. Connie’s grin widened.

Armin had glanced up at Jean, slightly alarmed at the dark expression on his face. Before he could comfort his friend, the door suddenly opened. Everyone scrambled to straighten themselves up, attempting to act like they hadn’t been just eavesdropping on the entire conversation between you and the Captain.

A chorus of sir’s rang throughout the large hallway, and Levi grew amused at the sight before him. His lips twitched upwards, and the cadets had to almost physically stop their mouths from dropping open at the sight. Levi’s ghost of a smile disappeared when his eyes met Jean’s seething ones.

The two held each other’s gazes, Levi’s expression being cool, while Jean’s had been irritated. Levi was not a fucking idiot; he knew the kid was in love with you.

Join the fucking club.

Levi, realizing that this was the exact reason he had gotten himself into that mess with you and not really wanting to sour his somewhat good mood, looked away from Jean to nod at the group of your friends.

“As you were.”

He brushed past Jean, his gaze as intimidating as ever, as he silently walked down the hallway. Jean’s fists clenched tightly. Once Levi had turned the corner, the group exploded into chatter, their reactions varying from stunned to adoring.

Jean really really fucking hoped Sasha was wrong.

▲▼▲

Your horse trotted proudly through the vast landscape, the wind blew through your open hair, your friends teased each other amicably, and your excitement grew at finally being cleared to join the scouts on their next expedition. Though you hadn’t been getting much sleep lately, and you’ve been a little too preoccupied to eat much, nothing could bring your mood down at this moment.

You were alongside your friends as you all followed the section commanders as their horses galloped into the edge of the forest. The mission for today was to exterminate any titans who had wandered too close to the walls. A simple mission, and you were more than capable.

You had been in a great mood.

Until your eyes landed on Levi.

He had been further up, leading his own squad. He had turned around to respond to Gunther, and that’s when his eyes had met yours. Your internal conflict grew, and you ultimately ended up averting your eyes and ignoring him, deciding to maintain your cold treatment towards him. 

Him kissing your head had only further confused you, despite the sweet butterflies you felt every time you thought back to it. Levi’s treatment towards you had unexpectedly changed since that day in the infirmary, and it had reverted to the way it was before his sudden aversion to you, though there was something much sweeter in his actions. You swore you were getting whiplash.

Though he had been significantly kinder to you, you had held your ground, unrelenting in your declaration. Part of you was terrified that if you gave in and became comfortable, he’d suddenly return back to the yelling, the punishments, and the overworking. Part of you also didn’t want to face reality— your feelings were unreciprocated, and they would only serve to bring you a world of heartache and sadness.

Your cold shoulder towards him was nothing compared to the way he had treated you. Yours mainly consisted of avoiding him, and when that wasn’t an option and you had to interact with him, you kept it civil and short. Your heart would ache, but you knew it was for the best. It helped that Jean would offer approving smiles and words of encouragement, even going as far as to smirk when you had ignored the Captain.

Levi, meanwhile, had frowned when he noticed that you ignored him. Again.

In all honesty, he did deserve it, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt like a bitch. He grew irked at your display. Levi hoped you would understand that him kissing your head and showing affection towards you was his grand confession of love. You knew he was shit with words, and he hoped that that would be enough.

He was sadly fucking mistaken.

His attention had been on you the whole mission. Even when the scouts had to dismount from the horses to use the ODM gear through the trees, he had somehow managed to keep a watchful eye on you. You were graceful as ever as you flew through the trees, though his observing gaze noticed that your reaction time was noticeably slower than normal. He had also noticed the dark circles under your usually bright eyes, and he grew worried upon noticing your overall state.

Levi, himself, wasn’t faring much better. He was getting virtually no sleep, running completely on caffeine, adrenaline, and pure will, yet he still made sure he was in excellent shape when it came to these missions— humanity was resting on his shoulders, after all.

The firing of a flare gun in the distance indicated that the group would be encountering titans— a lot of titans— from the left. The soldiers prepared, all eyes focused on the left. You had conveniently taken up the right-most end of the formation, and your attention had also been on the left, your blades held tightly in your hands.

It was only by chance that Levi decided to glance down at you as he soared above you in the middle of the formation. Your eyes met once again, and Levi’s heart lurched at the beautiful sight, when movement behind you immediately caught his attention. A large abnormal with the ability to jump from tree to tree had suddenly appeared and made an attempt to grab you. Your attention had been solely on Levi, so you hadn’t noticed, especially over the roar of the wind in your ears.

Levi’s eyes widened, and he yelled out your name. The rich baritone of his deep voice reached your ears, and you turned slightly behind you, yet you reacted too slowly. Your body jerked backwards, flying so far from the group. You flew through the air at such a great speed that it took you by surprise when you slammed against a tree as the wires of your ODM gear grew tangled. The abnormal had missed you— barely. Your head slammed against the tree and you felt the wind knocked out of your body at the impact.

You whimpered at the hell of a hospital stay you’d have to face after this.

The abnormal almost seemed to be grinning wider upon realizing that it had successfully subdued you. You attempted to quickly stand up, though your body yelled in agony at the movement. Willing yourself to fight back, you shakily stood up, tightly gripping your blades that had miraculously not fallen to the ground throughout the struggle. You winced at the searing pain that shot through your head, yet you clenched your teeth in determination. Realizing that your gear was broken and therefore useless, you quickly discarded yourself of it, and felt some of the tension in your body alleviate now that you were significantly lighter.

“The hell is she doing?” Jean yelled incredulously from his spot next to Levi, and the other members of the group looked on in shock as they all attempted to make it to you in time.

“She’s fighting back,” Levi spoke through gritted teeth, his worry for you eating him alive. His eyebrows were furrowed in stress and anxiety, and he was now soaring impossibly fast through the trees in order to reach you.

Stupid brat. Stupid, resilient, little brat.

“Attagirl!” Oluo and Eld cheered, and Petra shoved them, warning them to stop their blatant ogling in the middle of a dangerous mission. They skillfully dodged her attack, grinning at their adept use of the ODM gear.

A noise towards the side caught their attention, and the group realized the titans they had been anticipating were now in sight. Levi coolly assessed the shitty situation, before commanding that most of the soldiers take care of the titans, while Levi, his squad, and some of the 104th’s cadets would assist you. The group split up, and Levi turned his attention back to you, his heart thumping against his chest.

As the titan made a move to grab you, you exhaled quickly to focus before skillfully jumping onto its elongated arm and running quickly towards its nape. You were defying gravity as you gained speed the higher you went. The titan wasn’t stupid, and it began to grab you with its other arm, yet you anticipated its move. You lithely dodged it, executing a quick front flip as you narrowly escaped its grasp once again.

This was it!

You saw your opening. You leaped forward and pushed your feet against its shoulder as hard as you could, soaring high up in the air above the titan. Muscle memory served you well, and you thought back to the training circuit that had mimicked a situation almost exactly like this one. You gracefully began to spin yourself faster and faster, your cape billowing behind you as you finally readied your blades for the final blow. You yelled out, as your head pain worsened. As a result, your maneuver faltered slightly, almost imperceptible to the human eye. The titan noticed.

It lashed a large hand out again, attempting to grab you, but it accidentally slapped your body away. You cried out in pain, and you flew in the direction of your friends, hurtling towards the ground. You were falling so fast, and you felt yourself grow dizzy from being chucked around so much in the last five minutes.

Eren yelled out your name, a whimper stuck in his throat at the sight of your almost lifeless body spiraling downwards. Jean’s eyes widened, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time.

Levi’s heart stopped upon witnessing the titan slap your body with so much force. You were plummeting towards the ground at an impossible speed, and he didn’t even think twice before withdrawing his ODM gear’s hooks and diving towards you within the blink of an eye. His cape flew behind him, and a determined glint had overtaken his angry features. 

You had been bordering between consciousness and unconsciousness, yet the sight above you had been so clear that it almost felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. Your long hair flew around you, creating a curtain around your face, as you looked up at Levi. He had dived towards you, his jaw so tightly clenched. His muscular long arm began reaching out to you. The ground was quickly approaching, and you felt a sense of serenity at the sight of your Captain, despite your confusion and the severity of this situation.

“Levi,” you mumbled, smiling softly.

His face dropped upon seeing the calm expression on your face, and he willed himself to go faster, a number of expletive curses ringing through his head. 

That damn titan. Did it know how small you were? How precious you were?

He spun himself slightly to gain momentum, and he saw you were just within reach. Levi confidently stretched his strong arm out even more, managing to wrap his hand around your arm. He swiftly pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist, while the other hand cradled your head protectively against his broad chest. He swiftly flipped himself around to face his body upwards, further ensuring he’d take the majority of the blow in case you two ended up hitting the ground, and shot both of his ODM gear’s hooks into a nearby tree, propelling both of you away from the ground and towards the high branch. You fleetingly realized how familiar this position felt.

Once Levi safely landed, he kneeled, and supported your body against his thigh as he continued to hold you in his arms. He quickly looked over his shoulder, and could make out the sight of the titan falling to the ground. All the members of his squad seemed alive and well, so he turned his attention back to you. His eyes quickly darted over your face, desperately searching for any obvious injuries.

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of Levi running his hands through your hair and over your cheeks. The Levi in front of you was leagues different from the cool and composed one you had come to know. He had a frantic look in his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly, as he desperately peered down at you. 

“Le… Levi?” You mumbled, your voice still a little hoarse from your recent infirmary stay.

“You are so precious to me, you hear me?” He lowly spoke, panic and anger and a whole plethora of emotions coloring his normally deadpan voice.  

Your jaw fell open and you were almost positive you were suffering from a mean concussion, and this was a hallucination. “Wha—”

“You’re a fucking brat— an incredibly frustrating, resilient little brat— but you’re mine.”

You dazedly looked up at him, and you realized how close his face was to yours. His muscular chest was heaving up and down, and a small droplet of sweat dripped down from his hairline. Levi’s handsome features held nothing but adoration for you, and in that moment nothing could bring you down from the high you were experiencing. You felt his warm hands cup your cheek once more, a habit he seemed to be fond of.

“You want a fucking declaration of love? Here it is— if anything happens to you, I swear I’ll kill every titan on this piece of shit planet,” he spoke, surprisingly unbothered with how vulnerable he was being with you. He moved closer to you, his forehead nearly resting on your own. “I don’t give a fuck if you hate me or not. You’re mine, and I’m yours. And that’s all there is to it.”

Your hand creeped up to grasp the wrist of the hand that had been caressing your face, and you tightened your fingers around it. He froze, momentarily wondering if you were rejecting his confession, and he internally groaned at the thought. 

There’d be no coming back from this one.

“You’re mine?” You shakily asked, a gloriously beautiful smile slowly gracing your features.

“That’s what I said,” he mumbled, attempting to conceal how lovestruck he felt at your smile.

“After… after we get home and I get some medical attention, you’re going to have to kiss me, alright? I’m—”

You were cut off by his lips pressing against your own. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you relished in the soft feeling of his lips molding against yours. You felt an indescribable warmth erupt in your chest, and you whimpered against Levi’s lips. His kiss was soft and warm, a huge contrast to the Levi from this past month. He pulled away just as quickly as he had bent down.

“One for the road,” he simply explained, glancing down at you. He internally smirked at the pretty blush coloring your cheeks— he was always fond of the sight.

▲▼▲

“You’re not serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

You stifled your giggles at Levi’s straight face. Your expression still showed your disbelief at what he had just told you.

“I’m not an idiot, Levi, I know how some people look at me,” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Even the Commander?”

“Oh, I’m working my way up through the ranks right now, can’t you tell?” You teased, gesturing down to your intertwined bodies, as you both faced each other in his warm bed.

“You’re funny, brat,” he deadpanned, no heat and all fondness as he affectionately pinched your cheeks.

You snuggled deeper into his chest, savoring the warmth that you were enveloped in. You were wearing his shirt— still warm and smelling strongly of him— and you inhaled softly as your face pressed deeper into his chest. Somehow, the slight aftermath of your headache from the recent expedition began to dull slightly.

“I’m sorry again,” Levi murmured, softly cradling your head against his chest.

“Really? I couldn’t tell the first five hundred times you said so,” you teased, looking up at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of his face angled down towards you, dark wisps of hair falling over his eyes and structured face. Levi was so painfully handsome, you could feel your heart flutter.

His eyes were intense, and his guilt continued to stir within his stomach. Seemingly able to read his mind, you pressed a chaste kiss to his warm chest.

“Idiot,” you mumbled, “I really wouldn’t care if the King himself came up to me and proposed, and you know exactly why.” 

“Humor me.”

“Terrifying guy, goes by the name of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier?”

He chuckled lowly, the deepness of his voice vibrating through his chest, and your insides turned to mush. Feeling relieved at successfully pulling Levi out of his little hole of guilt, you yawned softly. Your bruised ribs still ached at times, yet you ignored it this time to cuddle deeper into Levi, who was also on the verge of sleep.

He was sleepily looking down at you, observing your attempts to get comfortable in his embrace, and he softly smiled to himself. His muscular arms tightened around you, one of his hands coming to rest on the soft curve of your hip. He relished in the fact that sleep would be coming easily to him with you here. Levi had surprised himself with how easily he was able to show his affections toward you, and he chalked it up to that being further proof that you really were the only one for him.

He felt a warmth come from the sweet pang in his chest, and it spread throughout his entire body. Levi had learned to associate that feeling with you.

His eyes closed silently, and you pressed one last kiss to his chest.

“Precious,” he mumbled, “Precious little brat.”

▲▼▲

[aggressivelyclueless]

hey @phantombreadproject this one’s for you

happy holidays, have some grayghost heartbreak!

Valerie had to be close.  From her vantage point above the park, she could see everything: trees with muted and blinking lights on under the snow; the playground, and the string of half-buried fenceposts surrounding it; the lot by the street, which had been plowed earlier.  Only so many places a ghost could hide, she thought dryly, and yet.

At least the twin engines of her hoverboard were throwing off a little heat.  Winters in Amity Park were a bitch, and she'd heard it was supposed to go subzero overnight, if it hadn't done already.  The cold, she groused, was probably the thing throwing off the precision on her gear.  She hadn't gotten an exact reading on that damnable phantom all night.

She could hear it, though.  She'd been following it for the past half-hour - a skirmish here, crashing there - and she descended between a cluster of snowed-down trees so that she'd be out of sight and hopefully get a decent shot as soon as she saw the thing.  It'd be coming off the river, probably; she'd been following it long enough to gain a sense of its territorial patterns, and most nights it would come through this area.

Sure enough, the echoing crack of ghostfire was right on the banks.  Up came a smaller, fleeing ghost - and up came that phantom in hot pursuit.

Valerie let the board idle and held steady over the snow.  She watched the two spirits go back-and-forth for a moment, clashing and dancing around each other in the air.  Where Phantom appeared mostly in shadow, the smaller one was a fizzling specter of light, and she waited for them to draw each other closer.  Once the smaller one was taken down, and had done all the damage it could, then she'd make her shot.

The doomed spirit shrieked and disappeared, and Valerie fired.  Her aim was good; she struck the phantom behind the shoulder, and it pitched forward and dropped like a stone.  She coaxed the board up and over the trees again, keeping an eye on where it had fallen.  The tip of her blaster was still smoking, leaving a thin trail behind as she went, and she spotted the disrupted snow between a handful of pines where the wretched ghost had landed.  She brought the board down, still wary; she didn't trust one shot like that to take the phantom down, she kept the blaster aimed at the sprawling form in the snow.  The form looked up to the hum of the twin engines,

and Valerie's heart skipped a beat.

"Danny?"

It was him, alright - white as a sheet and wide-eyed, and staring up the wrong end of her blaster.

"Val?"  His voice was quiet, but as soon as the silence was broken it was as if he snapped out of a spell.  "Val, hold on, wait a second, don’t - "

"Danny, are you okay, oh shit that ghost didn't hurt you did it?"  She threw the blaster aside and dropped from the board, kicking up chips of flattened snow from underfoot as she ran over to him.  He looked unhurt, if still a little disoriented; that phantom must be hiding closeby, or have blown past him, she thought, but it occurred to her that he'd known to call her by name just then, despite that she'd still had her visor up.

And then it occurred to her how off that felt.

"Danny," she said carefully, not entirely sure what to expect but putting her guard up anyway.  "How did you know it was me just then?"

"What?" said Danny, propping himself up on his elbows in the snow.  He shook a dusting of it off his hair, frowning.  "Of course it was - oh.  Wait."  He glanced down at himself, as if he'd forgotten something, and let all the breath out at once in a heavy cloudy puff.  "Shit."

"You knew it was me," said Valerie, "You knew I was - "

"Hold on a sec - "

"How did you find out?"

"I can explain, sort of - "

"How long have you known."  She imagined him all of a sudden, sneaking into her room when she was grabbing him a soda from the kitchen or surfing through Netflix titles or any other thing.  She saw him rifling through her things and getting ahold of her blaster or the helmet of her suit or a spare lying-around part of the board she'd get around to fixing.  That must have been how he found out - she couldn’t imagine any other way he would.  And that really stung.

"Val.  I swear it's not - "

"How long."

Danny hesitated.  "The whole time," he said lamely, pushing himself up to sit cross-legged and avoiding her eyes.  "Since you got the outfit."

"What?"

Danny said nothing.

"Who told you about it?  How do you just - find out about something like that?  Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I - " Danny cut himself off.  He was doing some quick thinking; she knew that look, the twitching hesitation at the corners of his mouth and how his eyes darted about.  After a second he gave it up.  "Yeah.  Maybe I should have told you."

"Maybe?" Valerie snapped, "That's all I get, is a maybe?"

"Okay, yeah.  I should have told you."  He paused as the trees around them creaked in the wind; despite the cold, he sat in the snow as if it didn't bother him.  "Should have told you lots of things.”

Can't we talk about this later, she almost said, but stopped herself.  It wouldn't be any use; the ghost was gone, although that thought made her groan a little on the inside, and she wouldn't be doing either of them any favors by cutting and running after it.  It wasn’t as if she was going to let Danny off the hook, either - the more she thought about it, the more she knew that the conversation was overdue as it was.

Danny slowly got up to his feet, creaking in the cold like the snow-burdened trees, and didn't bother to brush himself off.  "Val, look.  I'm sorry, okay?  I should have said something, or maybe given you a hand or - "

"Yeah right," said Valerie, "You had to peek through your fingers at Dead Alive last week.  You'd be a shit ghosthunter."

"I'm serious, will you listen to me a second?"  He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.  It was freezing - wasn't it supposed to go subzero tonight? - and that made her pause.  He didn't act like the cold was bothering him but it should have been.  It must have been; all he had was the hoody, and he'd been pale as death the whole time.

"I want to make it up to you.  I swear.  Maybe I fucked up, kinda bad, but I promise I care about you," he was saying, but all of a sudden it could wait.  This was wrong, and the creeping-up unease in her gut refused to be ignored.

"Danny, you should get home," she said abruptly, "I don't even know why you came out here - but look at you, you're freezing - "

Danny dismissed it with a shake of the head.  "Valerie.  This is important - you're important, you need to know this.  Something I should have told you months ago."  There were the beginnings of frost on the sides of his face now, and although he was ignoring them she couldn't look away.  What was he trying to prove - did he want to freeze himself to death?  The cold was spreading - slowly, but it was spreading, and he just went on as if it wasn't there at all.  "I was there, Val.”

"Danny, what the hell is this."  Her hands came up to his cheeks, as if she'd brush away frostbite as easily as a tear or a stray fleck of snow.  She was certain, in that moment, that she was watching him freeze to death.

Horrible, and gut-wrenching, but a certainty.

“Danny, come on, this isn’t funny, you have to go - “

Danny's hands came up over hers, and the frost had all but taken over them.  Ice glinted and shimmered with every movement, but somehow he still was moving, and to her it was impossible.  "I'm sorry.  For everything that happened, everything I did.  You deserved to know."

Valerie was almost dizzy, almost sick.  She couldn't watch him die like this - but she couldn't look away, either, and he still had her hands in his own.  He slid them together over his chest, and she placed his uncanny stillness; he wasn't breathing, and even through the gloves of her suit she was sure his heart had quit.

"I know I should have fessed up," said Danny, even as the frost strengthened and solidified and turned his face as if to stone.  His skin had begun to spoil into a bitten off-blue, and the frost had all but sealed his lips together.

"Danny," Valerie whispered, nearly in tears, hoping please that it was some kind of nightmare, "You're - "

(I know) said Danny, his voice coming through to her in the wispy echo she'd grown to hate.  (Be mad if you want.  It's my fault, really, but please, please trust me when I say I never wanted to hurt you)

"Danny. . . what is this. . . "

He gave her hands a squeeze and then melted away into a fog, and all of a sudden she was grasping at the air; she pitched after him - tell me this isn't happening - but the fog soured into shadow and slunk lower against the snow.  The piercing eyes, unblinking, were still on her.

She stood empty-handed, teary-eyed, and in disbelief.  He's a ghost - he's the ghost - was the clearest thing in her mind.  Everything else was blurring together: all those times when he'd sat with her at lunch and just listened to her ramble about things, about anything, just to hear the sound of her voice; the utter surprise in the eyes of that accursed shadowy spirit the first time she'd stared it down rather than run; the way he'd wrap himself around her on the couch to stay warm when she had him over to watch movies; how many times she'd cursed out that haunt to his own face; and how he took it every time, without any hesitation or break in stride.

The shadow at her feet was near-formless, yet somehow still very clearly buckled on its knees.  Its eyes - his eyes - made her heart melt and break in equal measure.  I was there, he'd said, and now she understood.

She may never have caught that phantom but he'd been in her reach the whole time.

It felt like a betrayal.  He'd been right under her nose and any time she'd close in on him he'd just disappear.  The insidious thing was, though, that he wouldn't just disappear.  He'd be at her side, listening to her vent in the cafeteria, watching movies with her in her own living room.  He went on as if it was nothing.

As if he expected it to be okay.

"How could you."

His eyes were still on hers, round and green and pitiful.  (I fucked up, Val, I know I did, but please, can’t we fix this)

"How could you," she stepped back, breath hitching in her chest, feeling her cheeks grow hot and her blood boil.  "You knew - this whole time you knew and you let it happen."

(I swear I didn't want any of this - )

"Well what the fuck did you want, then?  Did you think it was just going to turn out okay?"  There were tears in her eyes and she couldn't stop them, but she'd be damned if she gave in.  "Did you think I was going to forget about it?  After all the shit you destroyed?"

(No, Val, listen - )

"And I'm supposed to forgive you now, right?  Just because you said you were sorry?"

(No) said the ghost, (You don't have to do that but please - )

"Great because I'm not fucking going to!"  She felt as if she was breaking.  The fire in her chest said shoot him, he deserves it.  For months she'd wanted to see him like that, all crumpled up and at her feet, and she'd wanted to put him out of his misery.

But she couldn't do it.

She couldn't do it, and no matter that it wasn’t fair, the fire in her chest was burning out.

(Valerie) the ghost - Danny - whispered, motionless against the snow.  (Please, I have to fix this.  I want us to fix this)

"I was supposed to trust you."  Her voice was strained and fraying, and just the sound of it made Danny flinch.  "I did trust you.  All this time.”

Danny hesitated, but the forming ice crystals in the corners of his eyes said it all.  He hung his head, and the whisper of his voice was barely there.  (I know)

“And you still think you can fucking fix this?”

(I don’t know) said Danny, withdrawing into himself a little.  (I want to.  Whatever it takes I just want you to be okay)

Valerie huffed.  “And I’m supposed to believe you now.  Because you’re sorry, right?”

(Val, please, be mad all you want but don’t - )

“Get out of here.”

Valerie couldn't stand it.  No matter that he was a ghost, or all the things he'd destroyed - she couldn't snap her fingers and quit caring about him because he was still human and it hurt.  Underneath the shadows and the wispy white hair he was still Danny-who-went-to-the-movies and Danny-who-made-her-snort-milk-at-lunch and Danny-that-always-had-a-spare-kitkat-because-he-knew-they-were-her-favorite, and to see him cry broke her.

(No, don’t - )

"Get out of here,” she snapped, with the last ounce of anger she had, “and don't you ever let me see your face again."

Danny said nothing.  For an unbearable moment he just stared up at her with those sad broken eyes, but with the wind and the creaking of the trees he was gone.

And Valerie sat on the idling hoverboard and let herself fall apart.

[your-highnessmarvel]

For Better or For Worse

Requested by Anonymous: Now we ALL know Chris wants kids. If you don’t know that you’re not a real fan. But what about a fic where the reader can’t have kids and she wants to break up with Chris because she thinks that’s what’s best for him?

AN: ok this is like... really angsty and i got carried away in it and idk... im kinda sad today. on another note! i got a B+ on an essay exam i thought i canned so yay

Warnings: angst, language

*gif not mine

Enjoyed this and want more? Send in your requests!

Request Guidelines

MASTERLIST

You reread the text message again.

Hey baby. Sorry for not being able to make it today with you. I am hopeful! Let me know as soon as you get out! <3

Your left knee bounced. Your stomach twisted. The TV in the left corner of the room buzzed some news about COVID-19, but you couldn’t care less. A stranger next to you shuffled his feet and it was so loud. It resonated in your skull, climbing down your spine. 

“Y/N?”

Your head snapped up. The doctor stood with a smile on her face, dossier in hand, door open behind her. 

“Yes,” you said. 

“Come with me.”

You followed her through the door, the back of her white lab coat stark. It felt like you were following her to your doom; to the pits of hell and beyond. Your heart raced as you passed through the familiar doors and sat on the same leather chair as before. 

But last time you were with Chris. Last time, he was here, holding your hand, as nervous as you were. 

“Okay, Y/N, how are we doing today?” the doctor asked, sitting directly in front of you. You had a queasy feeling, watching her sparkling white smile and her vivid eyes. 

Did she have good news?

“Nervous,” you admitted. Your mouth was dry. You just wanted to know the results. 

The doctor’s face went soft and she opened the dossier, revealing a small stack of papers; all the tests you’d done with her. 

“It is as we feared, Y/N,” she said, hands on the table. “All the tests show that your eggs are barren. I am very sorry. I know how much having a child of your own means to you and your husband, and I know this must be terrible news. There are, however, alternatives, like adoption.”

There was a burning so intense in your chest that you feared you’d pass out. It was like someone lit a fire between your ribs and was cooking you from the inside out. Involuntary tears spilled from the edges of your eyes, gliding down your cheeks, clinging to your jaw as desperately as you’d clung to the hope of baring Chris’s children. 

Your hands balled into fists. Eyes closed. Breathing slowed. You could hear the doctor speaking, but it was as if through water. She was saying something about this process of multiple tests, all of them negative, proving that you really wanted to be a mother and that would be a plus on the adoption forms and you’d be considered a good candidate. 

You didn’t want to adopt! You wanted to conceive a child, half of you and half of Chris. To have a piece that was the both of you, together. To see if your child would have Chris’s smile or your hair or his little dimples. You wanted to see which part of your character they’d inherit. Or maybe they’d be more like Chris. 

“I...” You looked up through tear filled eyes, but only say the shape of the doctor who’d just told you you’d never have children of your own. “I’m going to go.”

“Would you like me to call your husband?” she asked, seeing your state. 

“No.”

The last thing you needed was to tell Chris right now. He’d been so hopeful that this final test, this final and last try would be a miracle. Even if it was just one child, one would be enough, one would be your saving grace. 

He’d hate you. Of course he would. With time. There is not a thing in the world Chris wanted more than children. Little boys and girls running around, playing hide-and-seek. Teaching his daughter to drive. Teaching his son to cope with his feelings in a healthy way. Showing his kids the aquarium. Snow fights. Autumn leaf piles. Swings. Sand boxes.

He’d resent you. Of course he would. With time. He’d find a way to leave you because he couldn’t stand to know his biggest wish was dead. He’d marry someone else, someone fertile, someone able to give him a piece of himself fused with a woman he loved. 

He’d forget you. Of course he would. With time. After his children would be born and they would grow up in front of his eyes, he’d forget the woman with a rotten womb and empty ovaries. 

You hadn’t noticed, but you’d somehow managed to walk out of the office, down the stairs, and out into the parking. The sun was out, high, hot. Sweat formed on your forehead, in the palm of your hands, behind your knees. 

You had a sudden, harsh thought. You knew exactly what to do. 

You texted Chris to call you when he had the time. You got into your car, like a ghost, like a phantom, and sat there holding the wheel. It was warm and hard, the heat of the summer cooking up the car. You looked in the rearview, at the empty backseat. There would never be a little one sitting there, in a baby seat or as a kid or as a teenager with their friends. 

There would never be.

The phone rang. 

“Hello.”

“Hey, babe, how did it go?” There was so much hope in his voice; the ring of his tone and the cracking. He had so much hope and you were about to squash it between your fingers like ants. 

“Where are you?” You tried to sound normal, neutral, but there were still tears drying on your cheeks. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Chris, where are you?” Now, you sounded angry, impatient, and you hated it, hated the way you were talking to him. He didn’t deserve it. 

He gave you the place he was at. “It’s a set so come by the back gate and I’ll be waiting there, okay?” His voice was harsher, less hopeful, and there was a hint of knowing. Knowing exactly what you were coming to say. 

You drove there in silence. No music. No humming. Catatonic. Your mind was blank, the roads busy, the streetlights bright, your thoughts a mess. There was an ache in your stomach, deep and hurting, as if you’d been cut open from sternum to belly button, and the wound was festering. 

You were minutes away from ending the most beautiful part of your life. 

You parked awkwardly on a curb but who cares. The little walk from your car to the gate was hard, your knees trembling, feet numb. Chris was waiting at the gate to let you in, a wary look tearing his features apart. 

As soon as you were through, he put his arm around your shoulders and kissed your forehead. “Y/N,” he mumbled. “Are you okay?”

He smelled so familiar and felt like an anchor. It was an instinct to lean in, forehead against the crook of his shoulder. It was all so familiar. The glint of the ring on his finger. The smell of the detergent he used at home, the one you washed all your clothes in. 

“Can we talk in private?”

His eyes slid down to the ground, a tick in his jaw. He knew. But he didn’t know all. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, but pulled you along to his trailer. 

Inside, it smelled like his cologne. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink and you smiled because Chris never liked to wash his dishes and you were always the one picking up after him. He liked to vacuum though, and it showed in the pristine floors and sparkling shelves that he’d dusted. 

He grabbed your hand and led you to the couch. He sat beside you, shoulders turned to you, eyes searching your face. He saw the dried tears. The trembling lower lip. 

“It was negative?” he asked lowly, running his fingers over your knuckles. 

“Yeah.” You bit your lip. “Again.” 

He sighed and leaned his head on your shoulder. There was a moment of silence where you just stared at the blank TV screen, listening to Chris breathing against you. 

“We’ll find another way,” he said, lifting his head. “We’ll go through another round of IV.”

You shook your head. “The doctor said I’m barren, Chris,” you said, fighting tears. “There is literally nothing we can do anymore.”

He grabbed your hand with both of his. “Adoption.” He said it as if it was a miracle cure. 

“No, Chris, I want a child of our own.” You bit your lip, tears fighting to slip from your lashes. “A little girl with blue eyes or a little boy who is as stubborn as me.” And this time, you did cry. And you saw just how hard Chris was fighting his own. 

“It’s alright, baby, hey.” He took your head in his arms, bringing you against the safety of his stern chest. 

You let yourself sob against him, wetting his sweater, grasping onto his shoulder. He rubbed his hand up and down your back. He set his wet cheek against the top of your head. 

Hiccuping, you pulled away from him, wringing your hands. “Chris, I... I’m...” you trailed off, raking a hand through your hair. “I’m gonna... go live with my mom for a bit.”

He frowned deeply, suddenly changing from sad to confused in a matter of milliseconds. 

“No, Y/N, no, no, why?” He leaned in, looking at you deeply, blue eyes searching yours. He held onto your hand so tightly it almost hurt. 

“Chris, you don’t deserve this,” you said, sniffling. “I’m never going to give you a little girl to teach her how to drive or a boy to go to shows with. We’re never gonna have babies in the bed with us in the morning. We’re never going to watch little league games. Daycare. Potty training.”

He stood, thumb to his lips. He was angry, tension roiling in his muscles. “I can’t believe it,” he growled behind clenched teeth. “I can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t want you because you can’t have biological children with me. Do you think I only want you for that? You’re not a machine, Y/N. You’re not broken. You’re my wife. I pledged to love you for better or for worse. We will work through this. I promise you.”

He knelt before you, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. He grabbed your hand, held it to his heart, looking up at you imploringly. “Don’t ever think that. Ever.” He reached up to wipe a tear from your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. Yes, I want kids. But I want you, more than anything. We’ll get a dog. Or a cat. Or both. But I’m not separating from you, okay?”

There was a hole in your chest, and it was aching, and it was healing, and you wanted to cry from joy and fear and powerlessness. “Oh, Chris.”

“No,” he said, lip trembling, tear rolling from the corner of his cheek. “No. Don’t leave me. Don’t. We will work it out.”

You leaned in, kissed his cheek, where the tear was settling, tasted the salt of it. “Okay.”

He sighed of relief, embracing you softly. He pressed his cheek against yours. He was shaking like a leaf. “I love you, and I want you to remember that forever,” he whispered. “I won’t let you go for anything in the world.”

You nodded against his shoulder. “I love you too, Chris.” 

He pressed his thumb against the ring on your finger. The ring he’d given to you on the day of your wedding, where he’d vowed to love you forever and always. Where he’d kissed you in front of both of your families. Where he’d tied himself to you in the holiest of ways, binding you to him and to his care, and vice versa.

He was remembering you, remembering himself, the reason why that ring was on your finger. For better or for worse. And this was the worse, but you’d live it together. You’d overcome it together. No matter what.

[assorted-fics]

Avenger Series Favourites

*In no particular order, these are some of my favourites from over the years

Phil Coulson’s Case Files of the Toasterverse by scifigrl47 

First Fic: From the Avengers Case Files of Phil Coulson: Grocery shopping is necessary, Tony's a little too proud of his tech, Captain America's lost on the streets of New York, and sometimes social injustice just happens.

Phil Coulson's the one who's got to write this nonsense up, and he is not their PR Manager.

Workplace Hazards by AggressiveWhenStartled 

First Fic: Today, Peter was honest-to-god going to see Captain America himself up close, in person, and not from a rooftop or tiny crevice like a creepy stalker fanboy. 

Even better, he was going to watch Steve Rogers make history by soldiering his beleaguered way through the most intensely awkward and honestly ridiculous press conference in the history of ever-- jaw thrust out and spine ramrod straight. Trying hard to be polite and respectful in the face of adversity.

While a bunch of assholes with cameras and microphones shouted at him about Iron Man’s adolescent dick.

Peter Parker’s Home for the Wayward Villain by BeanieBaby

First Fic: A really long redemption story.

The Brotastic Adventures Of The Avengers And The Long Suffering Foggy Nelson by cosmicocean

First Fic: Honestly, Foggy’s just kind of grateful that the unconscious dude in the alley by his apartment isn’t beat up as bad as Matt was when he found him that first time.

He also kind of thinks it says a lot about his life right now that those are his feelings on the subject, but it’s best not to analyze that.

Where Foggy accidentally becomes bros with the Avengers, Foggy and Matt talk it out, and the Avengers and Matt don't seem to grasp the concept that the "s" in "friends" is there for a reason.

The Long Life of Loki Leifson by Irisunohimitsu

First Fic: Thousands of years ago, the Jotun came to Midgard. Certain of a Jotun victory, Laufey brought with him his wife and infant son. However, the Aesir triumphed and in the resulting chaotic retreat, the boy was lost. 

Meanwhile, Leif (minor OC) ventures out into the snow for firewood. There, amongst the pine trees he finds a monstrous babe with eyes of glowing coal, who changes at his touch to human form. Enchanted, Leif and his wife care for the boy as their own. Loki grows to a happy, precocious teen but alas, mortal lives are short and before he can pass on the secrets of Loki's nature, Leif is gone.

Left alone in the world, Loki is forced to discover his own immortality. He must face his own demons and discover that he might just be one himself.Several hundred years later, Jack Frost is the only name he is known by to any living soul. The world is not kind to drifters, so Loki chooses to live in the underbelly - and oh, does he thrive. Some parts of that dark underworld though, are too cruel even for him. A chance encounter whilst Loki lies and kills, in the service of liars and killers leads to an alliance as tenuous as the threads holding what is left of his morality.

Odin’s Son, Tyr’s Son by PeaceHeather

First Fic: For a fill in Round 17 of Norsekink: "Someone starts to notice that Odin treats Loki in ways that are neglectfull and borderline abusive and starts to feel very uncomfortable about it.

It becomes worse when people at court start to take after Odin's treatment of Loki. But they still don't feel comfortable voicing they're doubts out loud.

And then the lip-sewing incident happens and they can no longer sit idly by while this happens. So this person just stand up and calls the rest of Asgard out on this bulshit, seriously the boy just cut of some hair, it's not like it wont ever grow back on it's own again.

Bonuses: 10+ The person is higly respected and influential in Asgard. 100+ The person is Tyr. 1000+ Whoever it is, is not part of the royal family."

Wanda and Peter BFFS by TunaFishChris

First Fic: Nobody's thrilled at the idea of "that kid" Peter Parker on the Avengers team. 

Nobody's thrilled at the idea of "that weirdo" Wanda Maximoff on the team, either.

 Until they disappear, that is. 

Or, the one where Peter and Wanda are besties and the other Avengers are jerks until they realize how important and awesome they both are.

little windows by sheisraging

First Fic: Bucky looks at the paintbrushes Steve rolls nervously between his hands, at the box now sitting on the coffee table. He brushes his fingertips over the star. “You want to paint my arm?”

Steve Rogers vs the Media by eden22

First Fic: Encounters with the press are an inevitable part of the job when you're a superhero. Unfortunately, Steve isn't the best at navigating those encounters without stirring up controversy.

Stop Interrupting my grinding by rohkeutta

First Fic: “I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.” 

“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”

“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.

A Historical Relic and a History Professor Walk into a bar- by orphan account

First Fic: “What d’you what?” Bucky snapped hoarsely with a dignified sniffle.The man blinked very slowly. 

“Wanna pet my dog?”

AKA

History Professor, Bucky Barnes, meets Useless Avenger, Clint Barton.

the conspiracy kids by tempestaurora

First Fic: WHO IS SPIDER-MAN? 

The screen showed Peter Parker, sixteen years old and determined to prove the identity of Spider-Man over the course of the three-part documentary he was making, unknowing that it would become viral within days of the first part being released. Behind the camera, way off screen, was Harley Keener, Tony Stark’s other prodigy child, grinning like crazy as Peter started the documentary. Only a few people knew what was to come, and those few people were about to have a great few weeks.

“My name is Peter Parker, and with the help of my friends, Ned Leeds, Harley Keener, and my Aunt, May Parker, who provided me with a lot of red yarn for this project, we’re going to uncover the identity of Spider-Man.”

OR

"what if peter just decided to fuck with everyone who didn’t know he was spider man and make a documentary about him trying to uncover the Truth.”

Steve and Bucky are Fucking Weird (aka Sam Needs Better Friends: A Series) by neversaydie

First Fic: "Look, a dick is just kinda there, right? But a cock is, y'know, taking an interest and trying to get involved." 

He makes a wavy 'get involved' motion with his hand that Sam finds extremely disturbing. 

"If it's hard, it's a cock. Calling it a dick is just disrespectful."

[queerchoicesblog]

Like Snow (Edge of Extinction, Grace x MC x Anna)

So, here's the fanfic I promised. Warning: it's kinda sad but if you're playing the book it doesn't exactly strike as happy sunshine, right?

I wrote it portraying the POV of the three women (Grace, F!MC Ellen and Anna) so yeah, it's like having 3 fanfics in one xD It takes place immediately after the latest episode and shows how the relationships/bonds evolve between the three women. It's non-canon obviously so feel free to disagree. Hope you enjoy it though!

Disclaimer: all the characters do not belong to me, they're borrowed from @playstoryscape game as well as a few lines of the original book.

Moreover, this fanfic is influenced by my playthrough where Pavel dies in the rescue of the hermit and F!MC gets the new outfit triggering the scene with Grace. There are also references to death, alcohol consumption, grieving and (internalized-ish) homophobia: if you're not comfortable with these issues, please consider skipping this.

Word Count: 2500+

Tag: @storyscaped @storyscapefanficarchive @aestheticsayeed @ghost-of-yuri @andi-the-cat (not sure your yes meant add me so feel free to ignore it in case you're not interested xD) @animus-and-anima

_____________________________

Grace POV

There she is!

The ex-military took a sigh of relief as she spotted Ellen on the other side of the church. She didn't tell anyone where she was heading and an uncomfortable feeling of concern took hold of Grace even if she kept herself busy with chores and checking in on Mari, baby Pavel and everyone else. Now that Ellen was here though it was as if a huge burden was lifted off her chest: too many things went wrong out there not to worry when someone left their sanctuary. Not to make a habit to brace yourself for the worst even after the hermit was successfully cured and part of the crew.

When she was a few steps away, Grace leaned over a pile of boxes and took in Ellen's figure. The Doctor was checking herself in a crooked mirror they found in an abandoned clothes shop in Tromstad. Fine new black boots, jeans that fit perfectly enhancing every curve, well every curve that survived the malnourishment they all experienced. A white top under a gorgeous leather jacket that made her look radiant and tough. Grace found herself staring a bit longer than she probably should have and for once, for so long after all the tragedies that haunted the group of survivors...for the first time after her husband passed away a life ago, she decided not to predict herself for that.

Instead, she allowed herself to break into a grin as she wondered whether she chose those clothes accidentally or because they reminded her of the outfits she used to wear before the world they knew was torn asunder. When they were strangers living miles and miles away and most likely would have never met if it wasn't for that tragedy. A sudden thought made the soldier smile, almost blush: yet if by chance she had walked past her in the street or crossed her path wearing those clothes, she would have made her turn her head to follow such a vision.

"I like the new looks. It suits you" she said after a moment, hoping not to scare the doctor.

Ellen froze for a moment then spun towards her. The look on her face was a bit confused and wary: she wasn't expecting such a comment from Grace or she had no idea how to take that. Luckily, it soon softened into slight amusement as she relaxed. To prove that she meant no harm, Grace crossed her arms and playfully raised an eyebrow, breaking her usual military demeanor: a look not many got to see.

Apparently, Ellen noticed as there was a hint of tease in her voice when she answered:

"Thanks. I...guess I clean up pretty well"

Understatement of the century, Grace noted in her head but Ellen was now looking at her with curiosity, surely trying to figure out what were the soldier's true intentions as she wasn't known for outstanding bonding skills nor frivolous conversation. Realizing that she needed to provide some sort of explanation for such an off character behavior, she cleared her throat and gave a quick smile.

"Noticed you'd wandered off, so I came to check on you. Didn't mean to intrude"

The Doctor looked a bit surprised but was quick to conceal it. She just shrugged and smiled back, gesturing that there was no need for apologies. 

Grace gave a polite nod, ready to shift back into her military demeanor...but for some reason she failed. Instead of walking away as she knew she should have done or Ellen probably expected her to do as she was already turning to gather her old clothes scattered on a chair, Grace spoke again. The words that kept haunting her for days dropped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"I don't know how it's all going to play out when we get there, but I know one thing: we never would have made this far without you"

Ellen froze for a moment then turned: surprise was written all over her face. Grace sighed and continued.

"I wanted you to know we're all grateful. Everyone knows how much the group needs you"

She buried the most compromising part, grateful to her military training that thought her to say less "I" and more "we", the crew, the group when speaking to others. So she hid behind a grateful smile how much she, Grace, the woman underneath the army fatigues she was still wearing needed her, Ellen, the foolish, heroic woman with a medical degree.

"I'd say the same about you" 

Of course Ellen wouldn't just accept a compliment: Grace should have known that the resident proved herself to be generous and selfless enough to give it back and appraise her leadership. Typical Ellen, she thought, unable to prevent herself from smiling. 

"I know nothing is guaranteed" she added after much internal debate whether to keep the conversation going or retreat before it was too late: feelings are a minefield. "But the future doesn't seem hopeless anymore. A lot of that is because of you and everything you've done"

Yeah, that was a nice way to put it down into words. With a bit of luck, Ellen wouldn't have grasped the hidden layer of meaning of it: Grace had been so secretive and distant, how could she suspect that she had been a light in the dark in so many ways?

F!MC POV

The cold breeze of the night welcomed Ellen as she stepped out of the church. She wrapped her wool scarf around her and took a deep breath. She needed a break: she wasn't able to get back to sleep last night after seeing Anna hurting so bad...but the woman she kissed what sounded like in another life only pushed her away. Again. As her wobbly figure disappeared out of view she laid back in her tent but she had no luck getting back to the safe faraway of dreams. The day kept her busy and the group kept her busy: no new threat was in sight but there was so much to do to properly prepare everyone for the trip. But now she had nothing to keep her from reminiscing Anna's hurtful drunken words.

"Maybe I was wrong to leave Pavel for you. Maybe all of this started because I was unfaithful to him"

"I love you. I just..."

"I know I've made things hard on you lately. But I just keep thinking about Pavel"

Same old story just with a touch of tragedy this time. "I love you but": God knew if it hadn't been a pattern for Ellen. She couldn't count the times she heard this. But now it was the woman, unhappy former athlete who just started to shine again until shit happened and Ellen failed. Devastating despair was in Anna bright eyes as she cradled Pavel's lifeless body and begged her to do something. Ellen was a doctor, right? She could certainly do something to save him. But no, Ellen couldn't. It was too late for that, she could only bury the hatchet and whisper a dying man a comforting lie not even him believe to. 

Anna never met her gaze again that day and the day after, shuttering herself in mourning isolation. She had never been the same since that day and the accidental meeting they had last night confirmed it. As much as it hurt, now there was only Pavel and her self-guilt in Anna's mind: no more room for Ellen. The doctor found herself wondering if deep down Anna was angry at her for being so helpless and...unhelpful the day Pavel was shot. 

"Long time no see" 

A familiar voice brought her back to the real world. It startled Ellen a little before she turned to see Grace giving her a friendly nod from the wall she was sitting on, her rifle at her side.

Ellen was so grateful. It was good not to be alone with her own thoughts on a night like that. She returned the nod and smiled to herself: who better than an ex-military to be her knight in shining armor?

"Did I spook you?" Grace inquired as she moved a bit closer.

"Nah, of course not" Ellen shook her head, hoping to be convincing.

"You sure?"

"Positive, ma'am" Ellen sighed, mocking a salute that she could have sworn made Grace chuckle. "Are you on sentry duty?"

"Yes" the soldier confirmed. "I think we're safe now but lowering our guard now would be inconsiderate. Especially now that Mari gave birth to a baby..."

"Yes, I just checked on them. The little boy is fine and heavenly resting in his mom's arms. Stig is with them now"

For a moment Ellen was jealous of Mari's baby, safe in loving arms and untouched by the dire situation humanity was facing. Just a hopeful little boy offering smiles to everyone. 

As realization hit her, she pushed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and exhaled loudly as if to get rid of her own sadness: Grace had too much to keep in check as their leader to be given such an additional burden.

"Anyway...I'll get out of your hair, you're on duty and-"

"You can stay if you want" Grace anticipated her, offering a quick smile.

"-I don't want to bother you"

"I'm a woman, I can multitask pretty well" she commented, teasingly raising an eyebrow.

For some reason, Ellen found the playful gesture seductive and she had to refrain herself from biting her lip when Grace scooped over and patted the seat beside her on the bench. 

"Here, join me, Doc"

"You know it's Ellen for you" she said, obliging and taking a seat too.

"My my, when did we become so casual?"

It surprised Ellen to still hear a hint of tease in her voice: Grace was definitely showing a whole new side that day.

"Why, you're really gonna call me Doc, lieutenant?"

"Hey, for your information I am a Captain, not a lieutenant"

"I'm terribly sorry, apologies, ma'am"

The two of them shared a look and chuckled but it was soon clear that the moment was gone. Silence settled back between the two women and Grace resumed her sentry duty. However, she was the first to speak again after some time.

"Hey I...I hope I'm not overstepping but are you okay?"

"As okay as I can be, Captain" Ellen shrugged. "I'm just...concerned about Anna"

Grace nodded, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Yes, you mentioned that. I promise I will check on her in the morning and talk to her. But-" she took a pause. "I'm sorry, I know you two are...close"

"Were, were close I guess" the doctor corrected her, grimacing. "I appreciate your concern, Grace, but no need to worry about me. I'm used to this, to unhappy endings"

The Captain furrowed her brows and did her best not to betray too much sympathetic curiosity when she inquired:

"Did you lose a dear one too?" 

Ellen shrugged and shifted to sit more comfortably. Then she winced and sighed deeply, enhancing a puff of air.

"Not exactly. I just never was the one women would take a chance on"

Grace shifted to face her.

"What do you mean?"

Ellen met her gaze and gave her a bitter smile. 

"I don't have the best record when it comes to relationships. Sure, the medical residency kept me busy enough but even aside from that I guess I'm not 'a keeper'" she shrugged her shoulder and looked into the distance. "Good for a one night stand or a flirt but not for more. The 'love at first sight' in a drunken gay bar night to ghost once you go back to your real life. A girl I had some kind of story with, the no-strings-attached type, dumped me when I asked to go steady then dropped to one knee and proposed to her new partner or so I heard. Last time I checked, they lived in a villa downtown with two Labradors."

Bad idea to go there: reminiscing Tiffany hurt even if the scar she left was quite healed. But Ellen fell hard for that girl, she saw a future with that girl...unlike Tiffany. The upset look on her face when Ellen asked her to be her girlfriend and the smile she had showing an engagement ring to the camera on the social media feed was still like a punch in the stomach. Especially now.

"Once I even got involved with a colleague at the hospital. It ended badly cause well I didn't know she was married" Ellen inhaled sharply and continued. "I-I suppose it's kind of a pattern to me"

Grace looked back to her and the two of them shared a long pained gaze.

Anna POV

Oy Moroz Moroz Oh moroz moroz ne moroz menya ne moroz menya

Usually, long walks never failed to clear Anna's mind and calm her. They always did, before any competition, whenever she was stressed or doubting herself. Now she felt no comfort: she was just walking in melting snow, swaying a bottle of vodka in her hands and singing in a low voice that Russian tune her father used to sing whenever he came home and had a bit too much on the way back. 

The demons that had been haunting her couldn't be pacified.

She shut her eyes as another vision appeared. She could have sworn that Pavel's ghost was near...or maybe she was just going insane for good. But she could feel his presence lingering, his voice encouraging her to toughen up, saying she was stronger than this and no matter how hard it looked now, she would have been victorious. 

Then she remembered that it was what he used to tell her before every competition so long time ago. He would place his hands on her shoulder and gave her pep talks that usually ended up like "Annushka, stop second-guessing yourself. Go out there and be like ice: strong and shiny in the spotlight cause you're the star. My star".

What he didn't mention is that ice can break too and that's exactly how Anna felt like now: shattered, crushed, in pieces.

Pasha...since that cursed day her days and nights had been a series of nightmares and hurtful visions. One moment she was dancing, gracefully flying in Pasha's arms at their wedding party, happy faces and smiles all around then out of the blue a dark bloodstain would spread on her husband's white shirt as all went dark and Pavel would fall on his knees and begged her to help him, desperately reaching for her.

Anna shook her head and took a long pull from her bottle. There was no way out of this pain, she thought as she kept walking back to the church. Why did Pasha have to change? She always knew he was a believer but lately, after the spread of the lethal virus he became obsessed with God and the book of Apocalypse. He started seeing signs of an approaching Doomsday everywhere and when they managed to survived he convinced himself that they were the Chosen ones, they had a mission and a duty to humanity...all that foolish religious rubbish pushed her away from him. He wasn't the man she married anymore.

Then she met the doctor. Ellen from America: kind, brave, compassionate and rational gorgeous Ellen. She had never questioned her sexuality before, was it even an option? Every woman she knew, family or friend, was happy or pretended to be happy with her husband cause "that's how things go, Anja", her mother cut every objection short once. So she obliged, married her sweetheart but years later from that the day she said yes to him on the altar things changed. He changed, she changed. And some invincible force waltzed her into the arms of a woman, an inconceivable thought till that very day. A bond against nature, an abomination for everyone she knew. 

But  Ellen's lips were so soft and her hold so comforting that for the first time in ages Anna felt safe.

And it was all gone now.

She had been avoiding Ellen ever since the day Pasha died. Too much pain to face her, when she bumped into her the previous night it was awful: the look of concern and love in her eyes made Anna bleed even more. 

Maybe Pavel was right after all. Maybe not about the hermit but about the God punishment talk she predicted him for. And Ellen: she surely wasn't a "witch" but could she deny she had been their downfall? All their issues skyrocketed since she first appeared out of nowhere, a daughter of the snowy Norwegian winter. She separated what God united, as preaches and her grandma would say, and what happened? People started dying, Pavel sank even deeper into his religious madness and eventually died. And Ellen was a doctor, funny enough. The moment she kept gravitating towards the gorgeous stranger, tragedies followed one after another. She accepted the love of the gorgeous woman and her husband got shot dead. Coincidences?

Anna hit her head with a fist as if to get rid of all that poisonous nonsense. No, Ellen told her that this was not what happened, just ghosts of her mind, her sense of guilt and grief speaking but she couldn't think straight anyway. Anymore. The succession of days felt like a hallucination and not even sleep could bring her peace, just the opposite. How can anyone preserve their sanity in a situation like this?

Maybe I should talk to Ellen, whenever I feel I can meet her eyes without crying like the weakling I am now, she considered as the familiar silhouette of the church appeared in sight. She's kind and she said she loves me. I gave her a hard time but maybe we can start over again. Maybe she can help.

She was almost there when she spotted two people sitting in the distance yet not too far to recognize them. She couldn't make out a word of what they were saying but they were certainly Ellen and Grace. 

Anna froze in place: lately, she hadn't been around much, mostly hiding in her tent or disappearing for walks and avoiding any kind of interaction with the rest of the group, but last time she checked the two women weren't that close. God, Grace hardly bonded with anyone, she was so busy being the leader and checking everything, organizing their daily routine in the midst of chaos and the journey to the Seed Vault...so how could she be holding Ellen's hand now? Her hand was holding the doctor's one - a hand who once held her close as Ellen's soft lips pressed a kiss on Anna's mouth- and she was saying something that apparently drew a shy smile on Ellen's face. What...what did she say? Why Ellen was smiling and squeezing her hand back? What...what did she miss out?

As the two women shared another smile and broke eye contact to look into the distance still holding hands, Anna stumbled to hide behind a solitary tree.

Even ice can break, she whispered as new tears welled her eyes. I was too slow, took too much time, never be slow Anna, never! Didn't your coaches tell you? Maybe I was so convincing when I begged her to leave me alone.

Tears found their way down her cheeks reddened by alcohol and the chilly gusts of wind that blew like a slap on her face.

Maybe our love was just like snow: beautiful and soft but it melts away when the spring sun starts shining again. Just like snow...  

[spectralscathath]

Foxglove

Five times Captain Robyn, decorated leader of the elite Ace Operatives, almost caught Mantle’s Resident Smartarse, Clover Ebi. And one time he wasn’t so lucky.

[A Lucky Shot roleswap au gift ft. Fox!Robyn and Sassy!Clover]

Robyn looked out the front window as the van slowed to a halt, barely holding back a curse when she saw Clover Fucking Ebi standing in front of their truck, bold as brass. “Alright, rookie. Looks like we’ve got an obstruction of justice in our way. Keep an eye on our six, but stay close. I’ll do the talking.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Marrow nodded, starry eyes determined to prove he had what it took. He was a bit young for an Ace Op, having only really graduated Atlas two years ago, but his raw potential and earnest belief in justice had Robyn practically camped out in Ironwood’s office, petitioning for the pup to be given a shot.

Robyn shot him an honest grin for a moment and hopped out of the transport, adjusting the longbow strapped to the back of her uniform. Her fox tail swept behind her as she walked to the front of the van, a casual smirk curving her lips. “Clover. Hi.”

“Robyn!” Clover grinned and spread his hands, lucky pin glinting on his waistcoat. “Well, if it isn’t the Captain of Ironwood’s Ace Ops. It’s good to see you.”

“Cut the crap, Clover.” She put her hand on her hip. “Is there a reason you’re blocking an official military transport?”

“Here I was thinking you could explain to me why these Knights that are meant to be defending Mantle’s outer wall are being driven out to the middle of nowhere.” Clover quirked a brow, crossing his arms. “Got turned around out here?”

“Easy thing to do, Biceps. I’m sure you got lost trying to set up this cute little ambush.” She glanced at the sheep faunus and gave her a mischievous little wave. There were bound to be others.

“Everything looks the same,” Clover admitted carelessly. “You’re going to keep brushing me off?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She cocked her head. “Right, Marrow?”

“Uh- right!” His tail wavered behind him in the lie. He’d really have to work on that.

Clover glanced at him and back to Robyn, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Will you just tell me why Ironwood’s been sending so many robots to this dust mine?”

“It’s a mine, it’s full of grimm, it needs to get cleared out.” She stared him down, refusing to admit his plans to revamp Amity. “And that’s all you need to know.”

“Is Ironwood seriously thinking of letting the SDC open another mine after what happened here?” Clover’s smile dropped. “People died there, Robyn. These robots are needed for Mantle’s defences, at least until we can get the supplies to patch up the outer wall.”

“Then you can put in a request for those supplies and for more bots when you get elected.” If Jacques got elected instead of Clover she was going to pitch a fucking fit. “Until then, you should stop sticking your nose in military business.”

“So what is Ironwood planning?” Clover stepped forward. “Should I make a lucky guess? How about you, kiddo, want to tell the class why Mantle’s being neglected for Ironwood’s schemes?”

Marrow bristled, the fur spiking up on his tail. “The General’s doing the best he can, we’re trying to help!”

“Can it!” Robyn snapped, stepping in front of Marrow, the fur on her tail bristling. She noticed his eyes flick behind them, watching their backs just like she said. “Clover, it’s time you and your pal there let us through. Right, sheepskin?”

Clover’s hand dropped to his hip, and his fishing line, at the nickname, Thyme’s sheep ears twitching in annoyance as she readied her weapon. “These robots are going to Mantle, Robyn.”

“Like I said, Biceps, formal request, proper channels, now move, or I’ll move you.” Her winged buckler was ready if she needed to get in close, but she’d rather just stick with her longbow for a fight. She really didn’t want a fight, however.

Clover smirked at her. “That a threat, Robert?”

“Don’t pick a fight you can’t win,” she warned him, her and Marrow’s hands both twitching towards the weapons on their backs.

Clover’s grin grew downright wicked, mischief sparkling in teal green eyes. “I dunno, Rob, I’m feeling lucky.”

Her hand closed on one of the fletchings in her quiver when Marrow turned on his heel, arm stretching out as he clicked his fingers and thundered, “SIT!”

Instantly, Robyn heard two thumps and some vicious cursing, the weight of Marrow’s command slamming the missing Huntresses from Clover’s gang to the snow. Marigold and Greenleaf. Of course.

Robyn didn’t even look behind her, instead just giving Clover an unimpressed look, quirking a brow. “Really? A sneak attack? That’s a little sly for you, Biceps.”

Clover blinked at the younger faunus in some shock, before he clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking in a vain attempt to hide his laughter. Thyme looked at him like he was off his rocker as he bit his lip to control himself, grinning wide as he fixed his flat cap. “Okay, wasn’t expecting that.”

Robyn smirked. Take that, Ebi. “Clover, this is Ace Operative Marrow. Marrow, say hi to Mantle’s hometown hero. Who was just leaving. Weren’t you, Clover?” She eyed him, warning him to back down.

Clover winked back at her, like the smug arsehole he was. She scowled back, almost wishing he’d pick a fight now just so she could knock that cocky look off his face.

However, he wasn’t stupid. He sighed and shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets with a soft chuckle. “Alright already. Joanna, May, come on out. Fiona, get the gate.”

Two Huntresses appeared behind them, both sprawled in the snow in a rather undignified manner. Robyn patted Marrow’s shoulder, her fox tail wagging slightly in amusement.

“Not bad, pup,” she complimented. “Let ‘em up.”

He pulled his hand back, giving his fingers a quick flex. “Sorry about that!”

One of the Huntresses made a very rude gesture at him, a light blue glow still dancing at the ends of her fingertips before it disappeared. Robyn let the two get to their feet as she gave Marrow a light nudge back onto the transport, looking back at Clover. “Hope you win the election.”

“Looking forward to seeing my handsome face up in Atlas, are you?”

“I take it back. Suffer the loss.”

“No can do, Robster.” Clover doffed his cap at her as he stepped aside, gesturing for the convoy to pass through. “I’m-”

“One more luck joke and I’m telling them to run you over.” She stepped back inside, closing the door as she heard him laugh again. The convoy started up, driving through the makeshift blockade as she and Marrow sat back down again.

“You did good there, rookie,” she smiled at him, shifting to make sure her tail wasn’t squashed.

“Really?” He perked up, tail thumping against the seat.

“Really,” she snorted and reached over, ruffling his hair. He was fucking adorable. “Don’t let it go to your head though. You still have a lot to learn.”

He nodded, rocksteady determination in his eyes, before he startled at the sound of her scroll going off. She reached for it, seeing a private message come through that simply stated ‘your place at 8?’

She rolled her eyes, waving Marrow off and letting him get back to watching the tundra go by. Clover was a cocky bastard. ‘If you break in again I’m arresting u’

The reply was near-instant. ‘Lucky me ;)’

She smiled slightly. Oh yeah. She was gonna kill him. Semblance be damned.

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

Robyn had been fourteen when she first met Clover. She was a poacher of sorts, stealing, shoplifting, pickpocketing, doing what she had to do to keep Lien flowing for her dads.

The riskiest thing she did was taking military supplies to sell on Mantle’s thriving black market. Her tactic was simple, an unfletched arrow fired into a wheel to puncture it, and when it was being changed she’d see if there was a chance to steal a box off a truck.

It usually ended in a chase, but that was fine by her. She had a tail for balance and knew Mantle like the back of her hand. The military could never keep up.

Except for the one time they did, and she ended up with her back to a wall and a hood shadowing her face as her main protection from recognition.

“Put down the box and raise your hands,” the soldier barked at her, a visor over his face. “You’re under arrest.”

Robyn bristles, eyes darting around for an escape when she saw something glint, a flicker, and there was a fishing hook dangling right in front of her nose.

“Grab on!” She heard from above her, and decided to show a little trust, her hand closing on the fishing line before she was yanked up out of the alley. She heard the soldier cussing, snapping orders into his coms.

A warm hand grabbed hers with a casual trust that no one gave her when they knew what her hands did, and the green-eyed boy helped her up onto the rooftop. “Hi, I’m-”

“Save it for later, we gotta run,” she tightened her grip on his hand as she took off like an arrow from a bowstring, darting across rooftops as she pulled her new ally with her. He laughed as they ran, the sound infectious enough to make her grin, before she slid down a rickety fire escape and into the relative safety of the miner’s district. The military didn’t usually chase her this far.

“That was fun!” He grinned, freckles dotting his skin, a warm jacket and a beanie sheltering him from the cold. Was he a tourist?

She pulled her hood back, her flyaway hair messy as ever. “Thanks for the save. I’m Robyn.”

“Clover. Can I have my hand back?” He quirked a brow, giving it a light tug against her grasp.

She let go pretty instantly. “Sorry, blanked.”

“It’s fine,” his eyes sparkled. “I kinda was watching them chase you for a bit, once I saw you running away from the truck. Glad I could help out.”

“Sure,” she looked him over, before deciding picking his pocket was probably rude and she really shouldn’t do that. Especially not after she got him out of a bind. “Guess I owe you one.”

“Make it up to me by helping me figure out where I am?” His smile turned a touch sheepish. “I’m new in town.”

“No problem. Just let me drop this off and I’ll get you home.” She couldn’t bring stolen goods home, her dads would kill her. She had a hiding place for them, a bolthole where she hid her cache until she could sell it at the next black market.

“Sure. So you steal from Atlas military often? Isn’t that illegal?” He put his hands in his pockets as he followed her, and she pretended not to notice how his eyes dropped down to take a gander at her tail. “Am I a criminal now for helping you?”

“You really like talking, huh?” She hopped a fence to an abandoned property, the house in the middle long since ruined by a grimm attack, slinking around to the back of the place.

She noticed Clover pause as he looked at the ruin and walked back to him. “It’s been like this for a while, before they beefed up the outer walls.”

“Sherwood inn,” he gestured at what was left of the sign, broken in two from the attack. “Were there people here?”

“Apparently they all got evacuated. The Atlas military might be job thieves, but they know how to protect people from grimm.” She patted his shoulder. “Come on, there’s a cellar that stayed pretty undamaged, it’s a good hiding place.”

“Spoken like a true outlaw,” he chuckled. “No seriously, am I a criminal now?”

“I won’t turn you in,” she booted aside the planks, dropping the stolen goods in where she could come back for them later. “So as long as you don’t get caught, then you’re not a criminal.”

Clover raised a brow. “Good to know.”

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

Robyn perched on a rooftop as she watched the transport, the cowl of her hood shadowing her face as she waited for Clover to strike. He’d gotten ballsy about it, and it was annoying. He was a civilian, technically, he couldn’t expect Ironwood to just hand out military secrets like candy. Especially when the Whole Fucking Point of hiding the CCT was to make sure fucknuts like Tyrian didn’t get their hands on it.

She just really wanted to get her hands on Clover and shake him down a little bit, let him know that once the damn CCT was done, they could work on fixing shit in Mantle. Didn’t he realise that this was her city too? Of course she wanted to help it.

Playing the long game was just the best way to do that.

She let the transport move a little more before it came to a sudden stop, one of the tires letting out a dying whistle, and Robyn nearly let out a massive sigh. Pop a tire? Please, Clover, she invented that move. Be more original.

She spotted a figure walking up towards the front of the transport and drew back the arrow on her bow, taking a breath as she lined up the shot, the fletching brushing her cheek.

There was a flicker of light on the Huntress’s hands before a blue dome spread outwards, encasing the transport and the other three figures that disappeared into it, before all of them vanished.

Robyn breathed out entirely, emptying her lungs before she released the arrow. She was on the move immediately after, her aim straight and true as she tapped her coms. “This is Ace Operative Robyn, I’ve sighted Ebi, engaging now.”

She turned her coms off again before she could hear the reply, focused on the path of her shot. She smirked to herself as she watched the arrow vanish in thin air, quickly followed by some loud cursing as it met the mark. The invisibility field disappeared as she lined up another arrow, this one laced with dust as she took aim at Thyme.

Clover’s hand shot out to catch it right before it hit his follower, and he turned in the direction it had come from, trying to spot her. “Nice try, Rob!” He called out, using the arrow to tip up the brim of his flat cap.

She flipped over a gap between rooftops, pressed a button on her bow, and her arrow detonated, the explosion blowing him and Thyme off their feet.

Robyn took the leap, landing in a crouch in front of the four outlaws. She stowed her bow on her back, extending the wings of her buckler, a crossbow bolt ready for the close quarters. Her other hand grabbed a set of bolas from her hip. “Clover Ebi, you and your cohorts are under arrest. Stand down so we can do this peacefully.”

Clover popped his hat back on and flipped Kingfisher in his hand, shooting the harpoon function at her. “Scatter!”

The three Huntresses took off, Clover picking an entirely direction as he hopped the transport and gave her the choice of who to chase.

Her tail fluffed in irritation as she realised that there really was only one obvious choice. “You son of a bitch!” She yelled at him as she bounded over the van, tossing her bolas at his feet to try and trip him up.

The lucky bastard had the sense to jump at that moment, clearing the bolas as he turned on his heel for just a moment and shot her a finger gun. “You’re welcome!”

She scowled as she fired her crossbow at him, the shot ricocheting off the wall and barely missing his stupid hat. He held it on his head as he ran, his long strides quickly clearing the distance between them as he led her on a merry dance through the alleys.

Robyn scanned the area as she pursued him, judging angles and distance before she swapped the bolt in her crossbow for a different shot, her anger sharpening into a sly grin. She lined up her shot, using a combat roll to bleed off excess momentum and steady her stance,to  make her aim perfect, before firing.

The bolt hit the railing of a fire escape and bounced back down, hitting the ground in front of Clover before a thin sheet of slippery ice coated the pavement in every direction.

Clover’s boot hit the ice, and not even luck could fight physics. He hit the ground, sliding across the ice in an undignified heap. He recovered quickly, latching Kingfisher’s hook onto the edge of a rooftop as he prepared to reel himself away.

Which was, of course, the moment Robyn careened into him with a flying tackle, causing him to lose his grip on his weapon and knocking them both away from the ice.

She waited for him to register the new position he was in, teal eyes fixing on the tip of the crossbow bolt resting lightly under his chin, before she gave him a vulpine grin. Her ponytail was messy and askew, the red-feathered hair-tie never quite able to keep up with her Huntress duties.

“Gotcha.” And fuck. She’d dropped her bolas.

Clover tried a grin. “I don’t suppose a heartfelt apology would get you to let me go, Robert?”

She levelled him with a glare. “Just tell me why you’re stealing like this. I mean, for one thing, that was my move with the tire.”

“Well, if it ain’t broke,” he shrugged at her, eyes flicking to the side, where Kingfisher was a bit too far for him to run for without getting a crossbow to the aura.

“Don’t even think about it,” she cautioned him. “Stealing these supplies isn’t helping Mantle, Clover.”

Clover’s eyes darkened, a downright vicious snarl twisting his features. “I’m not going to let Ironwood hoard them for his pet project,”he spat vehemently. “I’m not some military dog like you.”

Her glare turned thunderous as she watched him process that, before he cringed slightly. “That… came out wrong.”

She pointed her crossbow between his eyes this time, voice going velvet soft with lethal threat. “I’m going to let that slide, just this once. And I’m going to ask that you leave the supply trucks alone. You might not trust Ironwood, but you can trust me.”

“Can I?” Clover challenged, reaching up to push her crossbow to the side. She let him. “I’m not a mind reader, Robert. I can’t just know if someone’s word is good or not.”

“You might not read minds, but I can. If I wanted you arrested, I could just get the evidence I need out of your head.” She twiddled her fingers. “But I’m not going to do that. Not to you.”

“Going soft on me, Robbie?” Clover grinned flirtily at her. She wanted to knock the look off his face, but it wasn’t exactly wrong. She was letting him go, just this once, because she wanted to trust him. He was short-sighted and too focused on the ‘now’, but he wasn’t an idiot. He wanted to protect people, protect Mantle, just like she wanted justice.

She wished that they could work together to do that, but she couldn’t if he was going to continue to be an obstinate jackass. Still. One shot. Then all bets were off. Lucky him. “One last chance. Leave the supplies alone, and trust me, or next time I’m going to drag you up to Atlas in handcuffs-”

“Kinky.”

“Shut it. And then I’ll get what I need to know out of you.” She looked into his eyes as she let him stand up. “I don’t want to do that. So for once in your fucking life, stop being such a little shit.”

Clover walked over to Kingfisher, picking up the handle as he tested the line. It was still hooked onto the rooftop he’d aimed for. “I’ll consider it.”

“Don’t fucking ‘consider’ it, you knobhead, just do it!” Her tail poofed out in agitation as she barked the order at him.

“No promises, cap’n!” He blew her a kiss before he reeled himself away, leaving her to fume. Fucking bellend. Next time she was just gonna break his aura and let Ironwood’s semblance drag the truth out of him.

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

The lock clicked as Robyn turned the key, opening her apartment door to darkness and a visitor. She didn’t even bother reaching for the light switch as she closed the door behind her, shutting out all the light. He could suffer.

“Trespassing is illegal, you know.” She crossed her arms, unsure if she was meant to be irritated or not at the sight of him sprawled over her couch like he owned it, an arm resting casually along the back.

“Well,” he tossed a grin in what he probably assumed was her general direction. “It’s only illegal if you get caught.”

She turned on a light at that, just so she could hold up her gravity bolas and gesture silently at them, looking entirely unimpressed.

Clover glanced at them before his eyes flicked to Robyn’s stony expression. “Come on, Robert, I’m here as a friend. Like old times.”

Her tail swished as she felt a touch of guilt tug at her, hanging up her jacket, weapons, and bolas beside her door. She walked over to the couch and sat down, letting him shift to make room for her.

“Friends, are we? You’ve been running my team ragged, you know. We have a job to do and I don’t want to keep having to try bother catching your Huntresses.”

“Well, if supplies actually went to Mantle instead of Amity, I wouldn’t have to steal them,” his tone sharpened. “What’s so important about Amity anyway?”

“That’s confidential,” she replied automatically. “I know you all think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not actually helping anyone in the long-term. You’re so focused on instant results-”

“Working in the short term is important, Robyn. People could die in the short term.” Clover interrupted, malachite eyes boring into her.

“As I was saying,” she glared at him, baring her teeth the tiniest bit. “Helping Mantle is the long term goal for all of this.”

“Why should I believe that?” Clover crossed his arms, lucky pin glinting on his chest.

“I trust Ironwood, but I also want justice for Mantle. Real justice. I wouldn’t work with James otherwise.” She pushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face. “What you’re doing isn’t helping. It’s actually impeding our best chance to really help Mantle, for good.”

“I hear what you’re saying but there is a fucking hole in our defences and no updated security system.”

“Problems that are going to be fixed, once the Atlas military is done with Amity.” Robyn argued. “James gave me his word.”

“Because that means so much,” Clover rolled his eyes.

“He shook on it.” She twiddled her fingers, his posture immediately shifting to take notice of that simple gesture. “And you know his word is good. He’s not a liar at heart.”

“So why is he hiding everything? The people of Mantle deserve to know why no one up in the sky cares about us.”

“I care,” Robyn’s tail drooped. “Clover, Amity is… more important than you know right now. We just need to keep quiet until it’s complete, or else there will be people who try fuck everything up. We can’t fix things without Amity, and we can’t protect Amity without keeping a few secrets.”

“And you’re okay with that? You? You’ve always been a shit liar, Robyn, there’s no way you actually like hiding things.”

She didn’t reply, instead looking at her scroll as she set it into Do Not Disturb, password locked it, and set it on the table. Her silence was enough to tell him everything.

“Of course you hate it.” He sighed and ran his hand over his hair, his usual cap hanging on her coat stand. “Why are you doing this, Rob?”

She took out her coms, setting it aside. “I believe Ironwood’s doing the right thing. We’re doing the best thing for Remnant. And all of us have to make sacrifices along the way.”

“Is that what this is? A sacrifice? Mantle’s some tribute you can offer up to slaughter?” His hackles rose. “Robyn, do you even hear yourself talk?”

“You think I like the fact that my home gets invaded by Grimm all the time? My dads are down there, Ebi, don’t you dare say I don’t care.” She stared through him. “Sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest thing to do.”

“The right thing is always the easy thing to do, Robyn. It’s making sure people don’t die.”

“Clover, if you knew what was really going on, then you’d know that’s what Ironwood’s doing is right.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “What I’m doing is just.”

“I want to believe you.” He looked in her eyes, and she wondered if he was as drawn to her as she always was to him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I have orders not to. You’re a civilian, Clover.”

“I’m a Huntsman.”

“An unaffiliated Huntsman. You don’t have clearance for this information, but Ironwood’s willing to make a deal if you just let us take you in.”

Clover scoffed. “Does that deal involve a prison cell with my name on it?”

“It involves trust. That’s kind of Ironwood’s thing.” She crossed her arms, tail swishing irritably. It was like debating with a brick wall.

“Just because his semblance forces people to tell the truth, that doesn’t mean he’s always honest,” Clover pointed out. “Just because your semblance lets you read my mind, doesn’t mean anything about who you are.”

“You know I don’t use my semblance.” Her fingers dug into her biceps a little bit.

“Anymore,” Clover corrected, voice quiet and not as condemning as it once had been.

She really shouldn’t have been so bothered by it. “I made a mistake.”

“I know.” He hesitated before he took one of her hands, pulling it out of her arm fold. “I forgave you for it.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.” One she wasn’t going to repeat. Stealing into his head the way she had, pilfering what information she’d found there, even if she thought she had been trying to help, it had been wrong. It was invasive, and cruel, and to do so without his knowing?

She didn’t think she’d made many errors in her life, but her pride could own up to this one. Only took a drop of wrong to fuck up two good people.

Clover traced circular designs on her palm, eyes dropped from her piercing lavender stare. “I know. You changed, though. I can see it. You’ve become a better person. Loyalties aside.”

She ignored that jab and focused on the first part.“We both did. We’re not a pair of lovestruck teens anymore,” she shrugged at him, her fox tail curling around her.

Clover quirked a brow before a sly smirk curled on his face, his voice still a touch softer than what matched the flirty expression implied. “You don’t love me, Robert? Ouch.”

She snorted and reached out, grabbing his shirt as she pulled him in, close enough to kiss if he wanted to. “Suffer.”

He laughed and closed the distance. “For you, Rob? Any time.”

She kissed him back, both of them aware that he’d have to be gone before morning for his own freedom. It only took two lonely people to fuck love up, but they’d already fucked it up once.

No way they’d fuck it up again.

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

Robyn walked back from the chase looking rather dishevelled, tail swishing in what she hoped read as annoyance to anyone watching. Clover had apparently considered her request to stop being a brat, and summarily ignored it like the jerkface he was. This was the third heist he’d tried to pull since she’d let him go.

Elm waited by the transport back to Atlas, Timber slung over her shoulder. “Didn’t catch them?”

“Ebi got away.” She walked past Elm, practically collapsing onto one of the benches inside. Her hair was a mess, loose and wild as it pooled in the fabric of her hood.

“Uh-huh,” Elm nodded as she took her seat across from Robyn, the transport starting up.

“Nothing I could do.” She looked out the window as she tied her hair back up, trying to pretend she wasn’t being surveyed by the pair of very intelligent brown eyes that were currently sparkling with humour.

“Of course.” Elm was hiding a smile behind her hand.

“He’s a nuisance, but he can’t run forever.” She adjusted the collar of her jacket a little bit, a very conspicuous mark on her clavicle that her lilac aura was wiping away.

“Right.” Elm nodded, looking like she didn’t believe a word of it.

“I’m sure we’ll catch him next time.”

“Yep. You got it, captain.”

Robyn nodded in silence as she watched Mantle disappear under the smog from the heating system, going through the clouds and into Atlesian skies, her feather back in her hair band. “Yup.”

“Anyway your shirt’s inside out.”

“... Fuck .”

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

Robyn yawned herself awake, a stray hair in her mouth that she blearily pawed away. She debated staying in her warm blanket nest a little longer, her pillow soft and the air heady with the fog of sleep.

And with eggs. She smelt eggs.

Fuck sleep, she wanted food.

She flinched at the cool floorboards against her bare feet and grabbed a shirt that was too big for her, shrugging it on as she pushed her hair out of her face. She stretched, clicking out her back and doing a few quick twists, waking herself up before she padded lightly out into the kitchen.

She smirked at the sight in front of her, Clover’s old Atlas Academy sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he stood in front of the stove. She looked over some of the scars that marked his bare back, more than most people would think for his semblance.

But then, having his luck run out was a literal thing in his case.

The kitchen floor was still cold, and all of Atlas’s heating couldn’t stop the ambient temperature from failing to match up to her deliciously warm bed, so she slank forward until she could wrap her arms around his waist. She leaned against his back, soaking up some of his body heat as her white-tipped tail wagged back and forth. “Gotcha.”

He laughed, the sound reverberating through his chest and through her. “You sure did, cap’n.”

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” She grinned slyly, getting another chuckle out of him.

“Let go of me before I burn it, Rob, and you’ll see.”

“Bullshit. You never burn anything in the kitchen,” she argued. Fuck off, Clover, he was a cozy radiator and he could deal with it.

“And I don’t plan on starting today. Besides, kettle’s boiled. I’ll have a tea, if you’re making it.”

“Whatever you say, Biceps.” She snorted, setting up her usual coffee and his tea, because he was unnatural and somehow functioned on the stuff. “Got too hungry to stay in bed?”

“I can only be your pillow for so long.” He started plating up breakfast. “You’d sleep until the day was over unless I used food as a lure.”

“What am I, a fish?” She mixed honey into her coffee.

“A very pretty fish,” he assured her, setting down two plates of toad-in-a-hole. It was like they were a normal couple. Like everything that had happened hadn’t existed. “Breakfast is served.”

She handed him his cup of tea, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Her movements were somewhat stiff, the cold metal in her chest and back restricting her motion slightly. She was still getting used to the mechanical heart, but it kept her alive after Tyrian had run her through. She couldn’t complain. “Fucking yum .”

“Eloquent as usual.” He blew on his tea as she tucked in.

“Fuck off,” she barked through a mouthful of crispy toasted bread and fried egg, a runny golden yolk spooling over her plate. “ ‘m hungry.”

“I can tell,” he grinned at her, sipping his tea before he started in on his plate. “What’s the plan for today?”

“We keep fixing things.” There was still more to be done. Salem may not have been there anymore, but the aftermath was horrific on an epic scale. But they weren’t dead. Atlas may have fallen, but not to ruin. Despite the loss of the skies, Atlas and Mantle still stood, broken and damaged but not destroyed. They could get strong again, together. Together, the twin cities could be unstoppable once more.

They were one kingdom, after all. Atlas held together.

Clover reached to take her hand in a show of support, very quickly retracting it as she growled at the digits approaching her plate, an arm curling protectively around the food. Sure, she loved him to pieces, but his timing was terrible.

Clover blinked at her and laughed, raising his hands. “Way to say ‘I love you too’, Robert.”

“Maybe if you’d actually say it, I’d say it back,” she teased, waving the end of her fork at him. No more lying now. No more hiding secrets. The lines between Atlas and Mantle had dissolved. Old ranks weren’t important. They were a pair of Huntsmen and that was all that they needed to be.

“I love you, Robert.” He grinned, linking his arms behind his head.

“Love you too, jerk.” She rolled her eyes, glad that this time, at least, they were on the same side.

[dyadsaber]

Part 6 of A New Reylo Reads TFA: In Which a Dyad In the Force Has One of the Neatest Looking Lightsaber Battles I’ve Ever Seen and I Finally Get to the End of This Novelization

Previous parts in my dyadsaber text posts tag. 

I came out of the theater the first time LOVING the Rey and Finn vs Kylo in the snow as Starkiller Base falls apart around them scene.  Unless I’m completely forgetting something, we’d never seen a red vs blue lightsaber fight in SNOW before, and I thought it was GORGEOUS. (I know Luke uses his on Hoth, but the Wampa doesn’t have one too, so it doesn’t count.) I just watched the whole sequence again on youtube, you know, for research reasons, and I still love it just as much as I did the first time. (Maybe more?) 

Anyway… here’s my rundown of that scene from the novel: 

First of all, I HAVE QUESTIONS about which side of the Force Rey is drawing on here. TLJ kind of touches on the fact that Rey doesn’t have the “OMG the dark side is ALWAYS EVIL” indoctrination that kids at the Jedi temple (and Luke) would have gotten, and the number of times she’s described as drawing on anger and fury here made sit up and pay attention.

When Rey’s about to shoot Kylo and he freezes her with the Force, we get this: 

“She strained against him, HER ANGER GIVING HER STRENGTH. But she couldn’t fire. He was struggling also, against her newly discovered ability” 

Sure, she’s not able to break free, but he’s been using the Dark Side for a touch longer than she has. Not saying she is for sure, here, but I think it’s one possible reading supported by the text. (Hi I teach English just in case I haven’t said that yet). Personally, I think she was. I also think BOTH of the “sides of the Force” are both amoral and necessary, and drawing on the Dark Side out of anger and desperation isn’t always a sure path to Sith-dom.  

Finn igniting Anakin’s lightsaber is still a moment that makes me love him… he’s ready to defend his knocked-against-a-tree friend with WHATEVER HE HAS, even if it’s a weapon he’s never used before and doesn’t quite understand, and that is sweet and good and loyal, and it endeared Finn to me A LOT.  I remember that when Finn turned it on and stood there in that blue glow in the theater, we ALL gasped.  I don’t remember if it had been in promo material or not, but seeing it on the big screen was… An Experience.

ANYWAY, after Finn does the awesome thing he does, Kylo has a line I’m really glad they cut. After the “That weapon is mine” exchange, we get…

Drawing himself up, a towering figure in the snow, Ren did not even bother to gesture. “I’m going to kill you for it.” 

I mean… he almost DOES (kill Finn, that is) but announcing it is a little too MWAHAHAHA villain for my taste, and I’m glad they let him speak with actions rather than words here in the film. 

So… one of the fun things about all of a sudden caring a WHOLE lot more about Kylo Ren is that I’ve gotten to fully appreciate how incredibly good Adam Driver is at the physicality of this character.  (And by that I mean “I’ve watched a lot of behind the scenes clips and stared at gifs a lot.) It’s just FUN to watch him fight, so this description from Finn’s PoV made me smile. 

The longer the contest continued, the stronger Ren seemed to become. It was as if he was enjoying the challenge. Feeding upon it.

Upon reflection, I know exactly why I love this. It reminded me SO HARD of Jaime Lannister, another pretty terrible (and just plain pretty) fictional character I would get in fights defending. I just like secretly morally conflicted dudes who swing swords, know how good they are, and are kind of assholes about it, ok? 

Give me ALL of the confident, arrogant, Kylo Ren fights.  (Fic recs always welcome. Like I said, I’m new here.) 

This next bit made me wonder about how the “fighting over an object with the Force” thing works. Because this is the FIRST time we see the dyad both try to summon that lightsaber at the same time: 

Ren extended an arm toward the device lying in the snow. It twitched and then began to vibrate as the Force called to it.

But… it doesn’t explode. And this made me wonder, “Why NOT? What was different?” 

Here’s what I’ve got. 

Maybe it went to Rey because she started trying to call it first. So even if he had more experience and wouldn’t have had to try as hard as she (probably) did since it was her first time, the Force… recognized her prior claim? Also I think what happens in TLJ is that the two of them “reach” for the lightsaber at the exact same moment, and so there IS no prior claim, and so they have to duke it out with raw strength, which goes about how you’d expect when they’re equals.  

That still doesn’t explain what happens with the ship in the desert in TRoS though…  Rey definitely reached for it first.  But also, unlike a lightsaber, the ship had ENGINES that were trying to work against her. That might be an explanation.  I wonder exactly what Kylo was trying to do there, anyway… help it break atmosphere like it was trying to do anyway, I’ve always assumed.  So if I’m right, that would make the scene make more sense, and it would mean the rules are: (I’m sure I’m proved wrong a million times in media I haven’t seen yet, but here we go)

A stationary object will usually go to the first Force user who calls it. 

A stationary object will go to the Force user who is “stronger” in the moment if they call it at the same time, (and in the absence of a clear winner, explode?).

A moving object that whose direction the Force user is trying to change will be more resistant and tends to negate #1. 

The confidence/willpower of a Force user (and size of an object only insofar as that affect confidence) is a variable that probably throws a wrench in all three of these. 

Dyads facing off probably screw with the normal course of things, too.

Thank you for coming to this episode of “I need my media to make sense and spend way too much time trying to make it do so.” 

And then… Kylo Ren sees Rey….

“It is you,” Ren murmured. His words unsettled her: Not for the first time, he seemed to know more about her than she did about herself.

He doesn’t say this in the movie. He doesn’t say anything when he sees her, I don’t think.  But when I read this… my heart stopped a little. 

This isn’t what you say to the random girl you met in the woods and who you think has the map to Uncle Luke, even if she is Force Sensitive as Hell.  

This is what you say to a girl you suddenly realize you’ve seen in that place between asleep and awake for most of your life, a girl that you’ve always been subconsciously aware of. This is what you say because you’re beginning to understand that the scavenger you brought on board and this girl you’re just now remembering clearly for the fist time are THE SAME PERSON and she is VERY connected to you.  

What I’m saying is… Ben has been aware of Rey for YEARS without realizing it, and this line FITS THAT THEORY. 

And then they fight. And it gets REALLY interesting. 

Expecting weakness, he encountered only strength. Her skill with the device was raw at best, but it was backed by a fury that was as new to his experience as it was unexpected.

Example #2 of Rey’s maybe-Dark-Side-Use.  The paragraph leading up to this talks about her being “consumed with rage,” and I can hear every (ok, almost every) Jedi master in history talking about how letting anger fuel your use of the Force is a no-no, so I don’t think I’m grasping at straws here. Poor Kylo. He didn’t stand a chance. Angry, “possibly using the Dark side without knowing it” Rey is unexpected and kinda hot, OK???

Flipping away from the Starkilling Snow Fight for a moment, there’s a line of Snoke’s that he does NOT get to say in the movie when he tells Hux to abandon ship and come to him with Kylo Ren. 

He added grimly, “It appears that he may have been right about the girl.”

I. Have. Questions. Did Snoke not BELIEVE Kylo when he flat out said she was a REALLY STRONG untrained Force User? Did he not know who Rey was (Palpatine’s granddaughter)? What does this tell us about Snoke’s independence from Palpatine? (Something I’m still not clear on.) The easiest answer is, “You’re thinking about this too much, Dyadsaber.  No one at DLF knew that Palpatine was going to come back yet when TFA was written, so no one worried about it.” 

BUT I NEED IT TO MAKE SENSE. SO, I’ve decided that Snoke didn’t understand how much of a pawn he was. He probably thought he was Palpatine’s heir or disciple or whatever Grandpa Palps convinced him he was.  Anyway, this would mean that Palpatine could give him a lot of autonomy and agency, especially when it came to corrupting Ben, while still keeping a close eye on Snoke through the Force so he could intervene when he had to. If anything in official material contradicts me, I’d love to know. 

And now for a bit that made me scream a Shakespeare line at my kindle. At one point, the narrator observes,  

What she lacked in mass, she made up for in ferocity.

This is basically a less poetic "Though she be but little, she is fierce," AND I LOVE IT. Someone who’s crafty needs to cross stitch this under Rey’s silhouette or something. 

More lines they probably cut for time, but are really telling.  When he’s got her backed up to that cliff: 

Ren held his lightsaber, poised to strike. “I could kill you right now. But there is another way.” Breathing hard, Rey looked up in disgust at the man looming above her. “You’re a monster.”

Again with the threatening to kill people.  Jeez, Kylo. WE KNOW. Seriously, though, I love this. It’s so HIM that he wants her to know he had the advantage and chose not to press it. It says a lot about how he wants to present himself and his intentions to her. As he does in the throne room later, he wants her to give her a choice, and for her to CHOOSE him. 

Also, I can feel TLJ Rey’s MURDEROUS SNAKE energy radiating off of that “you’re a monster” line. 

And instead of being DETERRED by her insult, he comes back with THIS… 

“No. You need a teacher.” He was beseeching and insistent all at once. “I can show you the ways of the Force!”

“Yeah, I know you just called me a monster, but wanna be my student instead?” The arrogance and presumption of this bit of novel-Kylo is SO VERY HIM. Also, “Beseeching but insistent” is so on brand for him when it comes to her.

And the last thing I marked from the fight was THIS bombshell that doesn’t quite come across as obviously (if at all) on screen. Rey has him on the ground, face bleeding, and…

Kill him, a voice inside her head said. It was amorphous, unidentifiable, raw. Pure vengeful emotion. So easy, she told herself. So quick. She recoiled from it. From the dark side.

I mean, if you read between the lines, Rey’s been drawing on the Dark Side without realizing it for a while now. It’s understandable.  She’s seething with pain and anger and a desire to avenge Han, but there’s a difference between using that anger to defend herself or try to just GET AWAY from Kylo, which one could argue is mostly what she’s been doing, and killing him when he’s bleeding on the ground.   

And she doesn’t do it.  TAKE THAT, TLJ LUKE (Note: I love TLJ Luke. I just also love yelling at him).  Rey has a CLASSIC opportunity to make a choice that would send her down a truly Dark Side path - striking down an unarmed enemy in anger - AND SHE DOESN’T DO IT. She RECOILS. (And then Starkiller takes the choice away from both of them by literally crumbling away and leaving a chasm between them.  If I believed the Force was sentient, this would be a moment where it was saying, “You children are not ready to play nice, and I don’t want to kill each other, so you I’m going to separate you.”) 

And that’s that. The next time they see each other, they’re Forcetiming, and I cannot WAIT to read how that goes in the TLJ novel. 

Some last thoughts: 

Because it would have been hilarious, I’m sad we didn’t the fact that Hux...

followed the troopers carrying Ren into the nearby shuttle.

CARRYING. REN. We were robbed of two (four?) poor storm troopers trying to carry gangly, bleeding, passed out Kylo. I am OFFENDED.

Right before Rey leaves for Ahch-to, she and Leia have THIS fascinating exchange…

“I’m proud of what you’re about to do,” she told the girl. 

Rey replied in all seriousness. “But you’re also afraid. In sending me away, you’re—reminded.” 

Leia straightened. “You won’t share the fate of our son.” 

“I know what we’re doing is right. This is how it has to be. This is how it should be.”

I REALLY wish they’d left this in.  I like that it makes explicit that this is the second time Leia has sent a Force user she cares about to Luke, and that choice WEIGHS on her.  (And this shows how much she already cares about Rey, too… MY HEART.) 

The fact that Rey is perceptive enough to PICK UP ON Leia’s concern, and that Leia reassures BOTH OF THEM that what Ben won’t happen to Rey just makes me love both of these characters so much. Also, I think Leia’s worry and Rey’s conviction sets up the conflict Rey has within herself and her own journey with coming to understand balance in TLJ nicely. She’s just… so confident and cheerful in that last line, and I know what’s coming, and it hurts so good. 

And finally, the last line of this book made me laugh out loud. She’s standing in front of Luke, holding out the lightsaber, and....

She wondered what would happen next.

Luke's gonna yeet that lightsaber.  That’s what.

If you read all of these, thank you.  I’d love to know what you think. I never meant for this to get so long, but I’m wordy and newly shippy, so I shouldn’t have been surprised.  Stay tuned for hopefully shorter posts as I dive into Last Jedi in a day or two.

[a-readers-world]

Book Review-Let It Snow

GOODREADS SUMMARY

*A Christmas Eve snowstorm transforms one small town into a romantic haven, the kind you see only in movies. Well, kinda. After all, a cold and wet hike from a stranded train through the middle of nowhere would not normally end with a delicious kiss from a charming stranger. And no one would think that a trip to the Waffle House through four feet of snow would lead to love with an old friend. Or that the way back to true love begins with a painfully early morning shift at Starbucks. Thanks to three of today’s bestselling teen authors—John Green, Maureen Johnson, and Lauren Myracle—the magic of the holidays shines on these hilarious and charming interconnected tales of love, romance, and breathtaking kisses.* 

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT 

I broke this down and wrote a review for the three separate stories, and then a small overview of them all collectively. 

The Jubilee Express by Maureen Johnson

This was a very touching story. Johnson captures the emotions of an inevitable breakup perfectly. 

Jubilee had the perfect boyfriend. They were to spend Christmas Eve together until her parents were arrested. They were part of the Flobie Five, a group of few people who broke out into a fight over the last piece of a Flobie Santa Village collectible. Jubilee was sent to spend Christmas with her grandparents in Florida when she heard the news about her parents. On the train, she met someone named Jeb, a teen her age traveling to Gracetown to win back his girlfriend. The storm that soon hit caused the train to crash into a snowbank. Jubilee was now stranded in Gracetown with everyone else. Once they cut the heat off to conserve energy, Jubilee made the trek across the interstate to the Waffle House across the street where she met a young man named Stuart who was her age as well clearly worked at Target (so his work shirt says). Stuart knew that Jubilee had no place to go except on the train, so he invited her to stay at his house for the night. She cautiously agreed, desperately wanting a warm and dry place to sleep. Together they walked in the cold to Stuart’s house where they were both greeted by Stuarts mother and little sister. 

All this time Jubilee had been trying to call her boyfriend Noah, and every time she did, Noah found some excuse to not talk to her in those moments on Christmas Eve, and well into Christmas Day. Stuart finally gave it to her straight, making her realize the entirety of the past year she had been living in a boring daze and in Noah’s shadow. Stuart helped her realize that with the way Noah was treating her, that the break up was inevitable. Once Jubilee finally accepted that Stuart was right, she did was she knew she had to do and broke up with Noah before things got worse. She realized that she deserved someone who valued her for who she was, not what she brought to the others reputation. Someone like Stuart. 

I felt everything Jubilee felt throughout this story because I have dealt with it first hand. Having a romantic partner who never communicated and just didn’t seem to care is not something one would like to have to be involved with. I was really hoping Jubilee would break up with Noah before he could. And I was glad to see that she did. I’ve never really read short stories such as this one so it was a delight to read. I am hoping just a little that Maureen Johnson will write another story soon about what happens with Jubilee and Stuart after Christmas. 

The Cheertastic Christmas Miracle by John Green

This was a super cute story!! Three friends set out on an adventure to get to the Waffle House where a group of cheerleaders are stranded and waiting for their train to be repaired. Yes, the same train Jubilee was on. Along the way, Tobin, JP, and The Duke (her real name is Angie) run into some car trouble when they hydroplane on ice, causing the car to crash into a snowbank and lose a tire.They decided to ditch the car and hike the rest of the way to the Waffle House while trying to out run some brutish teenage twins they went to school with. And just to add to the fact, Tobin finally comes to the realization that he is in love with his best friend, The Duke. The Duke made it clear to Tobin that she was in love with him as well when she complained about the cheerleaders. Tobin finally steps up to the plate and kisses her, proving to her that he felt the same. 

I think all of these characters were very well written. I’ve never read a story by John Green that I did not enjoy. The characters that he writes has a lot to do with it. I am also a huge sucker for the “life long friends falling in love” kind of romances. I found the dynamic between Tobin, JP, and The Duke really great. They got along really well and they all played off each other. It was just a perfect blend of people. And of course, the romance between Tobin and The Duke was even better. 

The Patron Saint of Pigs by Lauren Myracle 

This story was not my favorite of the three, however, I still really enjoyed it. Addie had recently broke up with her boyfriend Jeb (yes! the Jeb from the train!) after she had cheated on him at a part with the schools playboy. She feels awful about it and Jeb understood to a certain extent and most definitely did not want to break up. But Addie felt like that’s what needed to be done because of what she did. The next week was like torture for Addie, not having Jeb by her side and seeing him with Brenna, Addie’s. . . Nemesis if you will. Addie wanted to meet with Jeb on Christmas Eve to make things right. When he never showed, Addie thought that was answer enough. However, Jeb was on the train that plowed into a snowbank and was delayed because of it. He had full intention of coming and wanted to be with her just as much as she wanted to be with him. 

Addie soon learns some of the reason for her fallout with Jeb had to do with her. Which is exactly true because she is known by most to be self absorbed and making everything about her. Her friends Dorrie and Tegan finally give it to her straight and tell her how she acts and how it affects others. In an attempt of redemption, she sets out on a journey to collect a teacup pig named Gabriel that just so happens to be the present that Addie and Dorrie bought Tegan for Christmas. 

Things don’t go as planned and the pet store that Addie was supposed to pick Gabriel up at ended up adopting him out to someone before Addie could get to him. She was trying very hard to get there before anyone else did and then a rush at work happened, delaying her as well as a mishap with the sink. Once she got to the pet store, she found who adopted Gabriel, come to find it was one of her regular clients at Starbucks, Mayzie. Mayzie had been trying a hand at being someones guardian angel and bought Gabriel on purpose to test Addie. Addie wasn’t amused but it soon proved that she could do something for someone other than herself. 

Thankfully all went well and she was able to give Gabriel to Tegan as well as reuniting with Jeb and getting back the love of her life. 

I felt for Addie because I could sense how hard she was trying. However, no one really believed it because she had been self absorbed for so long. She was able to get the task at hand completed and it gave her some non-self absorbed credit. 

Overall Summary and Review 

The last story was a little slow for me at first. It all just kind of picked up right at the end and flew by really quick when it brought together all the characters. It definitely captured the craziness of a moment like the one written. It took a minute for me to grasp what was actually happening. I loved this story overall, though. Even though it went a little fast at the end, I loved how all the characters from each story met at the end. I have never read something by Maureen Johnson or Lauren Myracle before, but I have to say that these short stories id a good job at showing these authors talented skills in writing. I look forward to picking up a read by them the next time I am at the bookstore. 

[windup-warrior]

Prompt 7: Serendipitous

The Broken Road

“There isn't any questioning the fact that some people enter your life, at the exact point of need, want or desire - it's sometimes a coincidence and most times fate, but whatever it is, I am certain it came to make me smile.”

― Nikki Rowe

“What are you…?” The downy snowfall touched the already white haired Elezen’s crown with glittering diamonds, each glimmer dying only as quickly as it could be replaced by new fallen flakes. His cheeks were ruddy, flushed with exertion and dare I say panic. It’s a moment I think about often, when I first met Graham Hruodland, immense pain in the ass that he was and is and forever will be. Coerthas is unforgiving in the best of times. This could hardly be called best. Caught somewhere between the light and the dark, the paladin turned dark knight sank to his knees before me, caught in the throes of conflict. The sort of earth shattering tumult that changes the very foundation of your being. He was a bundle of nerves and questions, some coherent, some not. The heat that rolled off of him in undulating waves accounted for the feverish haze through which he had fought his way thus far. I should have washed my hands of the whole thing then and there but the pleading look upon his face told me I couldn’t even if I wanted to. He must have sensed my hesitation because he reached for my hand, taking it with both of his. For all of the heat coming from his, his fingers were frigid, icy against my palms.

“I’m… look, that doesn’t really matter.” I gently withdrew my hand from his grasp and instead set about digging through a string of small satchels dangling from the belt around my hips. Potions, pills, pomades… salves, tinctures, ointments… it wasn’t the most extensive assortment of healing herbs but surely I had something that would soothe this man, at least enough to get him back on his feet and on his way. I had done well thus far to avoid this kind of trouble, the last thing I needed was a mess like this.

“But it does. It does matter. You’re here, you’re…” He trailed off with a shake of his pretty head and a vague gesture that swept up and down to indicate me in my entirety. He was too lost to his own calamity to notice the arch of my brow and the odd look I gave him. He sighed, bowing his head and sinking his bare hands into the snow around his knees. I thought maybe he was going to leave it at that before he finally finished. “You’re different.”

“No shit?” There was a little more bite to my words than I should have given, all things considered, but thank you, Captain Obvious, for stating something everyone always knew but would never say. But it wasn’t like it was my fault either. I never asked to be made this way, I have only ever done what I had to in order to carve some sort of path for myself here, a broken road full of bumps and bruises, scrapes and scars. But here I am, just like he said.

Different.

“Please…” He said softly. To this day I still seldom hear this word come out of his mouth so to hear it even back then still stands out in stark contrast against the backdrop of our overarching relationship. I finally found what I was looking for, Coerthan tea and rosemary from the Black Shroud. It would take a few minutes to put it together, mostly because it was so damn cold out here and any sort of flame would be fighting that in order to heat the water I poured into the metal flask I normally reserved for harder liquids. It would heat the quickest though so hopefully he didn’t mind his tea with a hint of mead to it.

“It’s a long story.” I said, dusting fresh snow from the horizontal plane of a fallen tree trunk. Atop it I sat as I cupped flame beneath the flask, held in my bare hand in an act that typically unsettled those that watched. But Graham simply looked on, still eyeing me with desperate scrutiny as if I was both his salvation and damnation all in one.

Maybe I was.

“My father… was a good man once. Before I came along and ruined all of his plans. A hard working and ambitious man whose only fault was being the wrong race in the wrong place. Kinda suiting he would get saddled with me, huh?” I chuckled before realizing that none of that would mean anything to this Elezen before me. Hunching my shoulders to guard the flickering flame against the wind, I continued. “Miqo’te in Ishgard aren’t exactly common, you know. But my father’s family had lived there for generations, long before they closed the gates to the rest of the world. My father worked in the employ of House Haillenarte and married one of the youngest of House Bale… not a daughter, a niece I think. She ended up serving one of the other high houses as a lady in waiting of some sort. I don’t know. She also served one of the lords of that house too, if you know what I mean. When she got pregnant, she couldn’t bear the shame and killed herself.”

The flask was red hot and I could practically feel the water inside boiling so I removed it from the flame and set it upon my knee to free the cap and carefully funnel tea leaves and rosemary. With that, I added a few drops from an opaque vial to the mixture for a little extra oomph. It was a tincture I picked up off of a shaman in Dravania once to soothe and settle me enough to function when the storm in my head proved to be too overwhelming. Maybe it would prove beneficial for him too. Still he watched with vague curiosity, eyeing my every move with foggy scrutiny. I glanced up to meet his gaze for a fleeting moment. Those eyes, those were going to be hard to forget. Arctic blue and preternaturally bright, they bore into me for the half moment that we locked eyes and even after I looked back down to the flask, I could feel their weight upon me.

“In her final moments, her body was overtaken by a Voidsent… a succubus more specifically. My father didn’t even know. At least not until it was too late. He lost his wife and ended up instead with a half Voidsent daughter bearing no trace of his late wife in her bones or blood. I was equal part his, equal part Void, an abomination…” There was no humor in the laugh I gave him as he listened. While the tea steeped, I capped the flask and gave it a thorough shake then set it in the snow to cool. It would do him no good if I burnt the hell out of him while handing it over. “His shame and grief drove us out of Ishgard years ago.”

“Where is he now?” Graham asked hesitantly, almost as if he already knew the answer. This time when I looked up at him, I held his gaze steadily for a pregnant pause.

“He’s dead. He… died when I was twelve. I have been on my own pretty much ever since.” I answered without elaborating further. There was no need to spill my life’s story to this man, I didn’t even know him. Not well at least. Hell, I didn’t even know his name. May as well remedy that, right? “What is your name, Paladin?”

He cringed, his exquisite features twisting with disgust at the moniker. Turning his head, he spat then looked back to me. For all of the arctic cut of his pale blue eyes, there was an unmistakable fire within that I must have missed before. Or maybe I just stoked the embers at last. “Don’t call me that.”

“Alright, alright, settle down, drama queen. What should I call you instead?” I prompted once more, rolling a wrist to gesture for him to answer.

“Graham.” A single name was more than I had before so I took it with a nod and leaned down to scoop up the flask from the snow. Offering it over, I handed it off and sat back, drawing one leg up underneath me as I watched him in much the same way he had been watching me prepare the mixture. He uncapped it and brought it up to his nose for a nostril flaring sniff before carefully drawing it to his lips for the first testing sip.

Moons later, here we were, his arms looped protectively around me as he held me against his side, our legs a tangle of sweat sheen and exhaustion within the cozy confines of my bed. Just an hour or two prior we had been a knot of unbridled lust perched atop the bar counter just beyond the pair of sliding doors that kept us tucked away from the world.

"Dare me?"

"When have you ever let something like a rule stop you before?"

"You're a filthy brat. You're fucking my filthy brat. I love how your body looks when I have all of your blood flowing, do you know that? I love you in your raw glory and passion."

“And… … … I love you. Don't you fucking stop."

"Why do you think I came to get you?"

"Because you like that thing I do with my mouth? … … ...Say it."

"I love that thing you do with your mouth?"

"Say it, jerk."

"I fucking love you, I came to find you because I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

"I think I'm alright with being found if you're the one looking."

From that moment of meeting in the dark of the woods to the first time those words spilled from his lips. His hand passed up and down along my arm, his eyes closed, his expression relaxed. I watched him sidelong and considered it all, start to finish… not as though this was the end. If anything, it was the beginning of something else. Something new and terrifying and intriguing. Something I couldn’t quite name. For the first time in forever, I wanted to stay.

Of all the roads I’ve taken in life, never did I think the broken path I tread would bring me here to him.

[thedarklightwithinus]

Here to Help

A/N; Haven't written in ages!!! My first GoT piece... Kinda proud. This will be a two parter!

Summary; Y/N tries to rescue Sansa from a life she never wanted.

Characters; You, Sansa Stark, Myranda, Theon Greyjoy.

Words; 2.1K

Requested;��Nah.

It was only common sense that the door would be locked. What with the many failed escape attempts and the sheer bliss of being able to keep someone against their will; It was slightly obvious that Ramsay would have the door locked. However, he had forgotten something very crucial. The door was left unattended with no one around to watch as his younger sister picked the lock with an embroidery needle.

Y/N Snow knelt in front of the door, her head against it as she listened to the sounds from within the lock. This wasn't the first lock she had picked and Y/N was almost certain it wouldn't be her last. The only difference between picking the lock on this door and all the others was that she wasn't trying to steal anything... Unless you call helping Sansa Stark escape from her brother's clutches stealing.

Being a bastard left Y/N with very little roles in her life. It wasn't as bad when she was little as she had Ramsay who was in the same boat. However, once their father had legitimized her brother, he had all but cast her into the shadows. One thing Ramsay and Roose forgot was Y/N's nature to do the right thing. 

Which was why she was going to risk her life in order the help Sansa escape. She wasn't one to wait around and do nothing. However, she knew her brother better than anyone in Westeros. If she was to flee, he would track her down and drag her back kicking and screaming. Luckily for her, her plans were brought forward when Ramsay had left Winterfell.

The lock clicked causing a grin to spread on Y/N face as she stood fully and pushed the door open. Her grin was quickly washed off her face when she noticed Sansa stood before her, a cork screw in her hand looking just as shocked as she felt.

"It alright." Y/N muttered, holding her hands in front of her as she looked around to insure no one was watching. "I am here to help."

"Help?" Sansa questioned, trying her best to pretend she was confused. "What could I possibly need help with?"

Y/N sighed deeply, into the room and out of the doorway in order to remain unseen. "I know you do not wish to be here. I know you have been trying to leave for a while. This is the only chance you are going to get and I urge you to take it." She whispered harshly, holding her hand out. Sansa stared at Y/N with a slight raised brow. Y/N could clearly see the apprehension on her face and if she was being honest, she didn’t blame her. "Trust me... Please?”

Sansa slipped her hand into Y/N's and she nodded firmly. "I trust you."

Y/N was quick to send her a smile, grasping her hand tightly and pulling her from the room. She walked at a fast pace, preferring not to draw any attention to the pair by running. As she lead the way down the stairs, she pulled her hood up around her head in order to be more discrete, Sansa followed suit.

It struck Y/N harshly as she entered the courtyard with Sansa on how she was meant to get out of Winterfell without anyone paying them any mind. A quick glance towards the entrance gates told her that it wasn't an option.

She tugged on Sansa's hand in order to pull her closer. "Ramsay would not let me wonder the grounds. I need to know if there is another way out and I need to know now."

"Yes." Sansa muttered, frantically looking around as though she could feel every eye on her. "But I know them to be guarded."

Y/N swore under her breath as she took a look around as she noticed most of the men shouting and running around. As a soft snow flake landed on her cheek, a sudden idea popped into her head. She did a half turn and looked up at one of the highest towers Winterfell had to offer.

"This way." Y/N whispered, pulling Sansa along once more as the two entered the tower through a side door.

The spiral staircase looked as though it went on for ages and though she tried not to think about just how high up she was, she found it difficult to as she moved upwards step by step. Sansa's grip on Y/N's hand had tightened considerably. Y/N didn't know if it was from how cold it was or if she was genially scared.

"We need more men out front!"

Y/N stopped suddenly as she heard the frantic yells coming from above. Sansa forced herself to a stop in order to not knock her over as the two-looked upwards towards the stone steps. The frantic noise of shoes hitting the stone above them could be heard growing louder and louder.

As the men grew closer, Y/N's heart began to pick up speed. She had a sudden urge to hit herself for thinking her plan could ever work. However, she quickly reminded herself that she had all but forced Sansa to trust her. This wasn't just her at stake here.

"Quick! Quick!" Y/N whispered frantically, all but running but the steps towards the men as she noticed a door a few steps upwards.

She pushed it open, thankful to find it unlocked as she pulled Sansa harshly through it before closing it and leaned against the door. In a matter of seconds, she could hear the men pass the door and continue on down the stairs.

"This was a mistake." Y/N muttered to herself, breathing deeply through her nose as she looked towards Sansa. "This is not going to work."

"It has to work." Sansa said, stepping towards Y/N. "You have gotten me this far, we can do this together but only together."

Y/N stared at Sansa with a slight raise of her brow. She took in the words deeply as she looked beyond Sansa to see that the pair had come out onto a walkway beside one of the walls of Winterfell. If she had her bearing right, the pair were towards the back wall, far from the gate.

“Together... We can do this." Y/N said, a fierce nod leaving her as she grabbed Sansa's hand once more and pulled her off to the left.  

"Where are we going, the gates are this way." Sansa frantically whispered as Y/N continued to pull her along.

”The gates are of no use to us if my brother and his army are coming back that way." Y/N muttered, turning a corner as she looked back at Sansa. "We cannot get out that way, we would be foolish to tr-"

"How right you are." Y/N could see the horror on Sansa's face as she looked over her shoulder. Y/N spun to face forward as her jaw began to lock. "Bastard... My Lady." Myranda greeted, an arrow loaded as she pointed it from Sansa to Y/N.

"Myranda." Y/N said, her voice dripping with hatred. "I'll advise you one to stand aside."

"I've come to escort the Lady of Winterfell back to her chambers." Myranda said with a huge smile on her face. "Her chambers that you have broken into."

"Do as she says, please." Theon muttered from behind Myranda.

Y/N looked from Theon to Myranda to Sansa and back to Theon. It took her barely any time to realize that Sansa had put her faith in to wrong person as Theon had clearly been the one to rat her out to Myranda.

"If my knowledge is correct, Myranda," Y/N began, placing herself in front of Sansa as she narrowed her eyes at the girl. "A Lady is higher than a common whore. The Lady of Winterfell wants to leave with me and my brothers whore will not stop us."

"True you are, Y/N. However, a common whore, as you so kindly put it is still higher than a bastard." Myranda said, pointing her arrow at Y/N chest as she took a step forward. "You can leave, I'd like to see how long it takes for Ramsay to hunt you down. The Lady is staying."

"Sansa is not stupid." Y/N said, raising a brow as she pointed off towards the gate. "She knows what Ramsay is, what he'll do to her."

Myranda's smile didn't falter. She merely pointed her arrow over her shoulder at Sansa before pointing it back at Y/N chest. The air was silent as the four of them stood mere feet apart. Theon continued to stare at the ground.

"If I'm going to die," Sansa spoke up, her voice drifting through the air. "Let it happen while there's still some of me left."

Myranda's eyes widened slightly, a small grin over taking her face as she forced it back. "Die?" She lowered her bow, fixing her gaze at Sansa. "Who said anything about dying? You can't die. Your father was Warden of the North. Ramsay needs you."

Y/N heard the slight gasp in her ear as Sansa gripped her hand tightly, the fear seeping from her. Though she knew of Ramsay's goals, it was scary to hear it being spoken of out loud.

"Though I suppose he doesn't need all of you." Myranda continued, raising her bow once again as Y/N tried to keep her body in front of Sansa. It proved difficult, however, because Sansa was slightly taller than her. "Just the parts he'll use to make his heir, until you've given him a boy or two and he's finished using them."

"Do you honestly think Ramsay will keep you around for much longer?" Y/N asked, watching cautiously as Myranda's gaze never once left Sansa's form. "Because no matter what you think, I may be a bastard, but he still values me much more than you. Blood's still blood."

Whether it be from anger or sheer annoyance, Myranda moved her hand more firmly over the bow as she went to release the arrow. Y/N squeezed her eyes tightly as she heard the arrow being released. Her eyes snapped open, however, when she heard Myranda's yell of shock. "Reek- Stop!"

Y/N took a glance behind her and Sansa who was also looking behind her at the arrow which now lay on the floor mere inches from the pair. Another yell brought Y/N out of her trance as she snapped her eyes towards Theon who was looking over the wooden planks.

She followed his gaze and winced as she heard Myranda's body hit the cold stone floor a good few feet down. Y/N noticed the blood beginning to gather around Myranda as she took a glance around, insuring no one had seen.

Y/N was stood between Theon and Sansa as the three of them stared at Myranda's body in both shock and slight disgust. A few moments passed before the three were brought out of there trances as a horn was blown loudly from one of the watch towers. "Open the gate!"

"He's coming back." Y/N whispered, grabbing Sansa's hand once again and pulling her from the ledge. "Are you coming?" She shot as Theon who stared blankly at her before looking towards the gate and nodding frantically.

"How are we going to get out?" Sansa asked, loudly.

"We go over!" Y/N yelled back, releasing her hand as she climbed up onto the wall and stood on the very top.

"We won't survive!" Sansa said, climbing up beside her as she looked over the wall. "The drop is too high!"

"The snow is thick!" Y/N said, grabbing her hand once more as she held her other out to Theon who followed the two's steps and climbed up beside her. "It's our only choice... Try to jump further out, we won't hit the wall that way!"

Y/N squeezed the pairs hands tightly as she took a last glance behind her before pushing herself from the wall, feeling Theon and Sansa follow her lead.  

PART TWO

[anonymous-hopeful]

The Soul Society (Chapter One: Snow Melts With the Heat of Fire)

Inkwell Isle was once a happy place. Enchanted and eccentric, each resident had a unique quirk, a special feature about them that made them unique, no matter what part of the Isle they came from. In one place, you may see a dancing flower or sentient vegetables, and another you might catch a glimpse of a genie, a dragon, or a Baroness! It truly was a sight, that Inkwell Isle. One thing was certain; no one would ever get bored or feel dull with everyday life. After all, there was much to do, many to see, and plenty of friends to make. Surely nothing could ruin that...could it?

The question above was rhetorical. Of course something happened; evil loves to make itself home in wonderful, magical places. That's how it happens in every fairy tale you've ever heard. This time, instead of making itself home in a castle or a fancy mansion, it had nested in a casino. Indeed, a place of gambling and risk-taking, of drinking and smoking, of lies, money, losses, wealth, addiction...this alone could have let the civilians of Inkwell Isle know that the new casino being built a ways off from the third part of the Isle would be of pure sin. If that didn't, then the name of the casino would have made them realize immediately.

"The Devil's Casino? Oh my...you don't suppose the actual Devil runs it, do you?", Sally Stageplay, a struggling actress inquired.

"Why wouldn't he? After all, it isss in hisss name. No one here would name a casssino sssomething like that.", replied Cala Maria, a gorgon mermaid with hissing snakes for hair.

"Ye ain't supposin' that the Devil be in thar, is ye, Cala?", Captain Brineybeard, a wannabe pirate with no ship or crew had asked in response.

"Perhapsss...though I'd rather ssstay away. I wouldn't want to go belly up assss a resssult of dealing with the Devil.", Cala answered, shuddering at the name of the Devil on her tongue.

"I vonder vy ze Devil himself decided to place his casino here of all places. Zurely, zere is a more zuitable location.", Werner Werman, an army veteran rat with all too vivid memories of the painful World War I, said aloud.

"Most likey because it's inconspicuous. 'm sure the Devil may want a lil' peace an' quiet sometime.", an older man nicknamed T-Bone, one of the operators of the Inkwell Express, infered.

"Still...it kinda makes me...uncomfortable. I think...it's too close...to the...train.", another operator, a younger man lacking his vision voiced.

"Yeah. Brother and I think that Devil's casino may cause bad things to happen to Inkwell Express.", one of the twins working on the train concured.

"Not just the Inkwell Express! Those horrid vibes might just plague the entirety of Inkwell Isle as we know it! You can never tell with no-good hoodlums like the Devil...", Dr. Kahl, an inventor with too many failed projects pitched in.

"Well, pardon me, but I will be going nowhere near that place! Not that I could anyway. The queen is quite demanding.", Rumor Honeybottoms, a worker bee under the rule of a fearsome queen sighed.

"I don't believe I will either. This could lead to nothing but trouble. Almost as much trouble as wandering too far from Snowflake Summit.", Chill E. Freeze, a snow angel, chimed in.

"Mayhapsss we ssshould inform the othersss of thisss. I wouldn't want them entangled in trouble.", Cala suggested.

"Good idea! We can...go tell...them while we...do the...daily run!", the blind operator agreed.

"Well, this train ain't drivin itself...".

Moments later, after helping the blind operator onto the train, the Inkwell Express crew began their journey to the other parts of the Isle. Once they had left, the others had returned to their homes and places of work; Sally to the theatre, Dr. Kahl to the junkyard, Werner to his mousehole, Rumor to the hive, Cala to the sea, Brineybeard to the docs, and Chill E. to her mountain.

The rest of the morning was relatively okay, and so far, nothing had happened to the inhabitants of Inkwell Isle. This, as you may have guessed, would change when midday had set in. Atop of the mountain, which was relatively small, and barely at a high enough altitude to host its own snow, Chill E. and her flurries, miniature snow fairies, had began to notice a rapid increase in heat. Worried, the flurries squealed in dismay, causing the snow angel to repeatedly try and calm them down.

"Shivers! Icy! Flake! Calm yerselves! 'Tis only a bit of snow melting, and nothing more..."

Alas, her case was not helped as the snow kept melting, quicker every second, before up and evaporating after it had melted into water. This would prove to be quite the issue, as Chill E. and her flurries' only life source was melting right before their very eyes. An attempt or two to save the limited snow was taken, however, the lack of cold had weakened the power of the angel and her flurries significantly, preventing such a thing from happening. It seemed impossible, how fast that snow had melted and evaporated, yet it had done so, to their dismay, and now, they were on their way to melting as well. In the slightest bit of luck, it was rather simple in deciding a culprit; Hell was hot, no doubt about it, but the angel and the flurries could have sworn it had gotten extremely hot when the casino had begun its business. As they were melting, it had occured to Chill E.; why doesn't she fly to the casino and ask them to douse some of the flames? Surely, with all of the fur the Devil had, he too would break out into a sweat.

"Come little ones. Where we're going is dangerous, so I advise you to stay close.", Chill E. forewarned the small fairies.

All huddled in a group, the flurries and the angel made haste in getting to the casino, as now wherever they went, they had left a puddle of water. Once inside said casino, Chill E. had inquired with the utmost urgency:

"Who is the manager here?!"

As if he had known she was on her way, a dapper gentleman with a die for his head clad in a spotless purple suit had made his way over to her, a sly grin adorning his face.

"Why, that would be me. Greetings, madam. I am Mr. King Dice. I don't believe I've seen you around these parts. What brings you to the Devil's Casino?".

Scowling at the die, Chill E. had replied, "I want to meet with your employer. I have a dire situation at hand, if you hadn't noticed from before.".

King Dice took a good look at the snowman-shaped angel. Indeed, she and her  followers were making quite the mess on the casino floor, one that would take ages to clean with a mop and bucket. Nodding slowly, King Dice answered her inquiry.

"Very well then. Follow me; he's residing in his office at the moment...and please, try to avoid making a bigger mess than you already have.".

Shaking, partially from melting, partially from fear, the snow angel followed the die to the office of the Devil himself. King Dice gradually opened the door and gestured for her to go in. Not wanting to hesitate any longer, Chill E. made her way inside, her eyes falling upon the infamous Devil.

"King Dice...who's this you've brought in? She's making a mess...", Devil snarled.

" I am Chill Evergreen Freeze, Devil, sir. I...um...have an issue...see, I am made of snow, and...well, your casino's heat is very well melting me...and my flurries. Aren't you hot...".

The Devil chuckled darkly, before stating, "When you've lived in Hell all of your life, ya get used to the heat. That being said...wouldn't it be nice if you could exist without depending on the cold to keep you alive?".

"What are you playing at? I apologise, but I do not have much time! "

At the snap of the Devil's fingers, a contract appeared.

"How about this; I give you and your little ones the ability to live without ever needing snow or cold again, along with the ability to create snow and ice whenever you feel the need, and all you have to do is sign your soul over to me. I won't take it right away, just when I feel the need to claim it as mine. Deal?".

There was an obvious choice; if she didn't agree, the Devil would finish her life right there in his office, and may just take her soul anyway. Struggling to speak, she grasped the quill on his desk and signed the contract, sloppily, but signed nonetheless.

"Good choice, snowball. Now, take the contract and get lost.".

With another snap of his fingers, Chill E. found herself outside the Devil's Casino with flurries in tow. She wasn't hot, or melty, or dripping. In fact, she felt fine, great, exemplary, amazing! Excited, she lowered herself onto the ground, her feet finally having the experience of standing on Inkwell Isle. Even the flurries had taken a break to stand on the Earth. At the moment, Chill E. was content, before gazing upon the soul contract in her hand, and finally realizing what she had done...

"I see...interesting tale, Chill E. . This meeting of the Soul Society is in recess. The inductees, please return to my hideaway in roughly an hour. Phantom Express...be prepared to tell your tale...".

[emptypokedex-blog]

hi so i'm trash and i was scrolling down your blog and i saw the homestuck au and i want to draw art of it so do you have any like, references or ideas as to how everyone looks? like, horn shapes, symbols, outfits, etc? or are they just like the same from the manga? sorry for bothering you btw

2: hi, specialstuck anon again. any ideas for like their online handles and ancestors? sorry about bothering you about this bc i just realized that your posts about that au was from like months ago and idk if you care about it anymore i’m so sorry

Hello! I’m sorry for not responding. I’ve just been a shitty blog-runner, and haven’t been here. This ask makes me really happy because I honestly still like Homestuck and genuinely think its well written. I was really into classpect assignments back in the day, so this was a fun little project.

I didn’t post about it because I didn’t think anyone liked it, but here you are, proving me wrong-ish!

AND OH MY GOD YES, I LOVE WHEN ASK TO DRAW ART OF MY IDEA!Don’t worry nonster, you’re not bothering me at all! I’ve literally done nothing over the summer.

I’ll post the pictures separately too just so you can zoom in.

I’m putting a cut because this got longer than expected.

Okay, so I had a guide with all of their horns and symbols, buuuuuut…I lost it. So, special for you, I made a new, updated one! My hand was cramping so bad after this. I would scan it, but I don’t trust my printer/scanner right now, because last time I used it, it completely crumpled my drawing (its the kind that eats the paper and scans it)

BTW I changed some stuff.

In terms of online handles, I dunno. Those are haaard. Ancestors, ignoring the sexes of the characters, would be the character’s parent of the same gender, unless there is only one parent, or if the character has no known parents or no living parents, they would be a sibling. If there are no siblings belonging to that character (Emerald, Red, probably someone else I’m forgetting), they would be a fictional character or OC or someone else from the canon that has some sort of familial or social relationship to the character. So for Silver it’d be Giovanni, Sapphire has Birch, Ruby has Norman, Crystal and her Mother, Green could either have Oak or Daisy. Yellow’s could be her Uncle. And so on.

Clothes would probably be the same, except for the trolls, all their shirts would be black instead of the color they normally are and for the humans all their shirts would be white.

In terms of Lusi (Lususes?) for the trolls, their starts fully evolved forms would be them. So, like, Swampert would be Ruby’s Mudbeast Lusus or Meganium would be Crystal’s Neckbeast Lusus. The same for the humans’ consorts, except in that case, they be the unevolved versions.

Gonna get my caveats out of the way now, I wanted to stick to the ‘one-of-each’ format Homestuck has going on while adhering to the gender-roles, so, at the end, some characters were left with God Tiers that didn’t really fit them *coughsilvercough* So, for those characters, I’ll provide what they were left with and the alternate I would have preferred. The hardest was finding a Breath player. Only the humans had repeats of the trolls.

(Top: Gold, Silver, Crystal Bottom: Pearl, Diamond, Platinum)

Gold: Knight of Blood, Land of Sap and Bells, CueKind, Non-Psionic Yellow-Blood, Prospit.

I forgot why I designed Gold’s horns the way I did. I think it had something to do with resembling his hair. His symbol is the logo for HeartGold.

Gold is a character who’s arc is about feeling inferior to his friends and overcompensating. When he finds out that he didn’t have a title, it broke his heart. The Knight class experiences change and growth throughout the game, and the Blood aspect is about platonic relationships and bonds. Come to think of it, I think Gold could also pass for a Page.

I can see Gold being on the characters who starts one of the teams and competitively tries to get the people he wants to join his team.

Silver: Rogue of Breath*, Land of Dust and Masks, IcePickKind, Non-Psychic Rust-Blood, Derse.

*Not only could I not figure out what Silver would be, but he was also the one to get the most out of character God Tier. I can see him as a destructive class, like Prince of Blood, but both that class and aspect have been taken. I am very unhappy with the result.

I had so much trouble drawing Silver’s hair, that I ended up putting it in a ponytail, but, let’s admit it, we all need for more of that. His horns are supposed to look like an ‘R’ when put together, so one is curved and the other has a hook on the end. They’re asymmetrical. I know its hard to see, but they are. His symbol is supposed to be the logo for SoulSilver. 

I refuse to explain Rogue of Breath because there is nothing to explain. Rufioh, in canon, is a Rogue of Breath and these characters have nothing in common. A Rogue of Breath would steal Breath – or Direction – for the benefit of others and I genuinely cannot make this work. So, instead, I’ll explain Prince of Blood. Prince is a destructive class that destroys with the aspect, in this case Blood, or bonds. Prince can also be one who destroys the aspect. So, Silver destroying past bonds he no longer wants. 

Silver would befriend Blue over the chat, become fascinated by the concept of siblings and request to be Blue’s sister (cause she was explaining it in terms of being his unrelated sister), to which she’d agree for him to be considered her brother.

Crystal: Thief of Doom, Land of Wheels and Flood, FootKind/ShoeKind, Non-Psychic Teal-Blood, Prospit.

One of Crystal’s horns is supposed to be straight, only curving at the end, and the other one has a star on the tip. Her symbol is, surprise surprise, a Star.

I know what you’re thinking. Thief of Doom? Crystal? No Way! Well, I’m gonna explain. Thieves take the aspect to benefit themselves, and the concept of Doom ranges from just a simple burden to death itself to complete planetary destruction. In the Pokespe canon, Crystal was hired to complete a job Green and Red failed to finish, and she was happy to do it. This makes me think that Crystal is willing to take on certain burdens that coincide with her interest, something a Thief of Doom would certainly do.

Potentially the other team leader, maybe the only one who thinks this is an awful idea. Begrudgingly agrees.

Pearl: Seer of Space*, Land of Peaks and Frogs, FanKind, Slightly-Psychic Brown-Blood, Derse.

*Could have been either a Seer of Space or a Mage of Space, but Seer fit his behavior more.

Pearl’s horns are supposed to look like the antenna and tail of a Chatot, so the one behind his hair resembles a music note (see Chatot for reference) while the other one just has a ball on it. I think I’ve seen his horns drawn like this before by other artists, so I don’t think this is the most original decision, but I still really like it. His symbol is a Circle/Pearl.

One of the most important parts of a Seer is their ability to observe. This is why it was so hard to me to pick between Black and Pearl when it came to choosing a Seer. However, because I wanted Diamond, Pearl, and Platinum to be Time, Space, and Void no matter what, Pearl got the honor. A Seer of Space observes Space and exists in the present moment. They may also oversee or take charge and are creative types.

Pearl’s weapon is FanKind because he picked it when he was young and practiced in the art of fan-to-fan compensate.

Diamond: Heir of Time*, Land of Fruit and Geysers, LadleKind, Non-Psychic Cobalt-Blood, Prospit.

*I originally listed him as a Page of Time, but changed it after giving Wally the role of Page. Either works for him.

Dia’s horns are supposed to look non-threatening, so they are wide and not very sharp. They’re kinda Munchlax-esque. His symbol is a Diamond.

When picking between Heir and Page, I went with Heir because Wally took Page Diamond has a sense of time from the beginning. Heirs become their aspect in one way or another, hence why they’re called ‘Heirs,’ and Diamond has such a grasp on his flow of time (not to mention his major-legendary equivalent being Diamond), that I see this working. If he were a Page, which would also have been good, it’d mirror his rise against Pearl is the DP chapter.

Diamond makes food puns constantly in chat and there is no way of stopping him.

Platinum: Sylph of Void*, Land of Snow and Tomes, UmbrellaKind, Non-Psychic Violet-Blood, Derse.

*To be honest, a lot of the female-based classes in the Void aspect fit her character, except Witch.

Platz horns should look like the faceplate of an Empoleon. Same situation as Pearl, I think I’ve seen this done elsewhere my multiple artists. Her symbol is the Berlitz family sigil.

Void is nothingness. Pretty much any class enacting Void is lacking something, since Void is the lack of anything. As a Sylph of Void, one could create Void because Sylph is a creative class, and Platinum does this in a social sense by ignoring the claims of other people and acting as though they never happened. In terms of her behavior in early chapters of the DP chapter, she also acts as though she isn’t supposed to emote.

She will never admit she is friends with a lowblood.

(Top: Ruby, Sapphire, Emerald Bottom: Black, White, Wally) 

Ruby: Prince of Light, Land of Mirrors and Silk, NeedleKind, Non-Psychic Rust-Blood, Derse.

I exaggerated Ruby’s scar a bit for this. The horn on the side of his face with the scar is broken, but both of his horns used to be symmetrical. They’re supposed to look like the antennae of a Milotic. His symbol is the pattern on Groudon’s arm.

A Prince of Light would destroy knowledge, which, at first, sounds very out of a character for Ruby. But knowledge doesn’t only apply to books and science. Instead, is refers to anything known. Considering how Ruby acts at the end of the RS chapter, throughout the Emerald chapter, and again in the ORAS chapter, where is constantly pretends as though the confession never happened and lies about a variety of things, actively destroying what people know, I think this is the most fitting God Tier I’ve provided. Ruby is also a character I can definitely imagine playing the role of minor-villain at some point.

He’s super salty about not only being the lowest of bloods, but not having any psychic powers to compensate.

Sapphire: Witch of Rage*, Land of Thorns and Thunderstorms, ClawKind, Non-Psychic Indigo-Blood, Prospit.

*Would rather have Maid of Rage, but White fit the Maid role better for multiple other aspects. Witch was all that was left.

Sapph’s horns resemble Gamzee’s, but are thicker and less curvy. They’re just supposed to look wild and are not based on anything. Her symbol is the pattern on Kyogre’s flipper.

As much as Maid of Rage fit, I had to give her Witch of Rage, which, in actuality, would probably belong to an incredibly unstable person. Witch’s have completely control to manipulate their aspect while also fully embodying that aspect, and when that aspect is Rage, chances are that person isn’t to in a safe psychological place. Maids, on the other hand, start by relying on other people for their aspect and where to enact it before learning on their own to use it as they please. Sapphire would have gone through this change twice: once when she was younger and changed when Ruby was hurt and she realize she couldn’t that girly anymore, directing her Rage towards her younger self and/or people like that, and again when she changes in the RS chapter and compromises.

Sapphire leaves animal pelts at Ruby’s doorstep to make stuff out of. She brings most of the meat to Dia and feeds the rest of it to her eggbeast lusus.

Emerald: Bard of Mind*, Land of Dunes and Towers, PistolKind, Non-Psychic Olive-Blood, Derse.

*Couldn’t for the life of me figure out what this kid was. Rald

I used his current design because I couldn’t draw his croissant-hair. You’ve probably already guessed it, but his horns are based on his eyebrows. His symbol is the pattern on the head of Rayquaza.

Again, same as Silver, I’m not going to explain it. But for Rald, I just don’t have anything else to say. I’ll put it simply: I don’t think Rald is a destructive player (in fact, he might be a manipulative player), but I’m out of stuff and I’m stumped.

Immediately joined Crystal’s team without a second thought and before knowing what the heck they were doing.

Black: Mage of Hope*, Land of Kaleidoscopes and Skyscrapers, RockKind, Powerful-Psychic Brown-Blood, Prospit.

*Seer of Hope was also an option, but it is taken by Pearl. They both make great Seers.

Hexagon. Everything about Black is based on hexagons here. Horns and Symbol. Put his horns together and you get a hexagon.

Mages fully experience their aspect at some point. Admittedly, a Mage of Hope would be naive and maybe a bit too hopeful, but Hope is definitely something Black has a lot of, even up until the end (y’knoow, up until he became a rock). A Mage of Hope would be dedicated to making it to their goal because they would genuinely believe that they’d get there, a la Black when he wants to become a pokemon master.

Sees the world in hexagons a lot like he does with Musha on his head.

White: Maid of Heart*, Land of Roots and Carnivals, WhipKind, Non-Psychic Cobalt-Blood, Derse.

*I also really liked Maid of Hope for her.

Y’know White’s hair-antennae? They’re her horns now. They’re close together and bend back over hear head, not outward. I didn’t know what Symbol to give her, so I just made it a box.

Heart and Blood are very similar in that they’re both about relationships, but Heart is more about the impact of those relationships. A Maid of Heart starts by relying on someone else for their relationships and enjoyment, but would eventually come to do it on their own. If anything, regardless of aspect, White is definitely a Maid.

Had Black sign a contract that ensured he would join the same team that she was on.

Wally: Page of Life, Land of Pumps and Corridors, PumpKind, Non-Psychic Teal-Blood, Prospit.

Wally’s horns are tiny because I felt someone like wally wouldn’t have especially large or threatening horns. His Symbol is the pattern on the face of a Kecleon.

Wally was hard, but I eventually settled on Page of Life. Pages and Maids are very similar in my eyes, because they are both classes based around personal growth. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that Pages were the male equivalent to the female Maid. A Page of Life would lack Life in the beginning, which would manifest itself in physical or emotional health. As a Page, he’d grow in health, perhaps to the point of overdoing it. I think this God Tier mirrors his subplot pretty well.

Blindly follows Ruby around where ever he goes.

(Red, Yellow, Blue, Green)

Red: Heir of Blood, Land of Rivers and Lightning, BallKind, Prospit, Consort: Bulbasaur.

I FORGOT HOW TO DRAW RED’S HAIR! His Icon is a Pokeball.

Heirs have a need for their aspect, and one thing Red really enjoys is his pokemon and having a group friends, and even protecting people/showing off to neighborhood kids. As an Heir of Blood, Red would need to embody the Blood aspect and pretty much be the connecting force between the other characters. I picked this because he essentially started the series and, as the first character, I interpret him as the driving for keeping older characters together. Heirs also have a natural talent for their aspect, and I think the term ‘natural talent‘ in general is a decent description of Red. Plus, he’s really good at making friends.

Yellow: Sylph of Life, Land of Keys and Ink, RodKind, Prospit, Consort: Can a Snake be a Consort? ‘Cause I’m thinking Ekans.

Her Icon is a Lightning Bold (Also could have done a feather.)

I mean, come on. Like I said before, Sylphs are a creative class and Life is synonymous with health, and, therefore, a Sylph of Life creates health. Naturally, Yellow would be the teams healer. She could probably bring things back to life or give like to inanimate things by creating Life itself.

Blue: Thief of Space, Land of Coins and Frogs, CrowbarKind, Derse, Consort: Squirtle.

(Oops, she looks like an axolotl) Her Icon is a Mask.

A Thief of Space would steal Space for their own benefit. Blue would probably use this by stealing size from one object and applying it to herself or transferring size between things, switching the location of herself and something else or the locations of two items. It’s be great for stealing from other people.

Green: Prince of Time, Land of Fog and Beats, FistKind, Derse, Consort: Charmander.

His Icon isn’t a pomegranate seed, it’s supposed to look like his pendant, but I can understand the confusion.

Prince is a destructive class, so Green would be destroying with Time. As a result, a Prince of Time would be impatient and easily annoyed and unable to cope with the passage of time. Some of these aspects match Green at an early age. As we known, baby Green had a lot of trouble with patience. They’d be stubborn and have trouble listening to others. This pairs well with early-Green. Current-Green is a lot calmer and smarter that he used to be.

If I didn’t feel the need to have one of each, the cast would look like this (In the same order as all of the above):

Knight of Blood, Prince of Blood, Thief of Doom, Seer of Space, Page/Heir of Space, Sylph of Void, Prince of Light, Maid of Rage, (Whatever Emerald would be), Seer/Mage of Hope, Maid of Hope, Page of Life. (Minus the Humans)

[anna-liz-fiction-blog]

The Roommate Paradox | Part 3 | (Lucifer x Reader)

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader (main pairing / eventually)

Warning: foul language / swearing

Words: 1634

Writer: Liz

After letting go of Dean you watched the impala disappear into the horizon. For a few moments, you lingered in your thoughts. You were unsure of what to do. Babysitting Satan had never been something you thought about, so you felt quite unprepared. Then again, he didn't want you to anyways, so you just had to make sure he wouldn't break anything or anyone in the following days.

Sighing, you strayed towards the bunker's door and went inside. Since you hadn't eaten yet, you got yourself a bagel and then you wanted to spend some time alone in your room. However, you had to go through the library to get there. Silently you decided to just ignore Lucifer and sneak past him. This didn't prove to be an easy task since the fallen angel seemed to have awoken and was currently sitting on the couch with his head resting back on the backrest.

He seemed relaxed to you, his eyes were closed and his brows not furrowed for once. He had folded his hands on his lap giving the appearance of praying.

“I can sense you, human.” he suddenly exclaimed. His smug attitude was something that quickly infuriated you but you tried to remain calm for now.

“Yeah, I figured that out when you jumped my throat earlier.” Well, that was somewhat calm, right? He grinned and opened his piercing eyes to stare directly into yours.

“My father may have cursed me, but I am by no means weaker than a lousy human.”

ignoring the insult you answered quickly. “You think Chuck did this to you?”

“Who else would be capable of doing so? He reunites with aunty Amara and suddenly I am crashing in the bunker, half of my power gone but with my grace remaining.”

“Do you really think your father would do this to you?” As soon as you had finished the question you instantly regretted asking it as you saw his eyes light up with rage. From one moment to another his whole aura changed, he tensed up and suddenly appeared to be a lot more dangerous that before.

“MY FATHER!” he began raging and you already knew the story that was going to follow now. “He locked me up in a cage in HELL for having an opinion that differed from his own! I don't know what I did this time to deserve this treatment but I sure as hell am certain he is the one responsible for it!”

“Alright, alright. I think it was Chuck who transported you, but why would he make you sick?”

“I'm not.” Lucifer simply stated.

“You're practically burning, Satan.” you snickered and finally took the first bite of your bagel which you were still holding.

“Don't fucking call me that! If you have to annoy me with your presence use my name!” he barked before glaring at you.

“You don't address me properly, so I'm not going to use your name either. That's how it's gonna be around here, Satan.” you hissed back at him.

But before he could find another snarky remark he was thrown into another coughing fit and you left the room. Maybe the direct confrontation wasn't the best way for Lucifer to deal with problems, you figured. Maybe, he had to be alone and think about everything. If he wanted to be treated well, he had to show you the same respect and you were going to make damn sure the fallen angel would do so.

After spending the whole day in your room you had drifted off into a light sleep. This moment of comfort didn't last long, however since you were pulled from your slumber by your phone's ring tone.

Still drowsy you answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Well, you sound lovely. What's the matter?” Dean laughed on the other side of the line. “Did anything happen with Lucifer?” he added, suddenly sounding worried.

“No no, Satan's just being a douche but you woke me up. So this better be important, Dean-o.” you replied smiling.

“Yeah, we kinda need your help (Y/N). Can you search the library for us?”

“Sure, if you tell me what to look for. What is going on?” You finally sat up.

“We were passing through this city and there have been some murders as we've heard. Young victims, hearts missing.”

“Sounds like a werewolf with an age preference if you ask me.” you answered after you had noted down the information.

“Yeah but get this. They are also missing every last drop of blood and before they died all of them only wanted to consume ox meat. Also, they were described as being 'not themselves' and 'very violent, often committing criminal acts'. Sounds weird right?”

“When doesn't something in our life’s sound weird, Dean?” you joked. “But yeah, I'M going to look into it. Don't you want to get to Cas as soon as possible, though?”

“Yeah, of course, we want to but there is a snow storm in the area and we can't leave this city for the next few days anyways.”

“Alright, I’ll call you if I can find anything. Say hi to Sammy from me, will ya?”

“Sure thing, (Y/N),” Dean replied and hung up.

You asked yourself how the boys managed to run into trouble everywhere they went before laying that thought aside and going straight to the library. You didn't want to waste any time, maybe you could prevent the next victim's death.

As soon as you entered the room your eyes scanned it searching for Lucifer.

“I'm right here (Y/N),” a scratchy and seemingly sore voice from the back of the room, behind one of the bookshelves exclaimed. You immediately noticed that he used your name. It surprised you he even knew or remembered it at all.

“Thanks, Lucifer.” you said, deliberately showing him how this mutual respect thing worked.

You went straight to the lore section of the library and began looking for a book that you knew had to be around here somewhere. It was one of your favorites, to be honest, an entire list of all the supernatural beings known to the Men of Letters sorted after what the victims did or ended up looking like. For researching a case it was as valuable as gold.

When you found the place where it usually was you were met with an empty space. It was gone. But you were sure it had been here a few days earlier and the brothers didn't take it with them, otherwise, they wouldn't need you to research anything for them.

“Lucifer!” you said, maybe he took it?

“Don't disturb me. I'm reading,” he replied and you could hear him blow his nose shortly after.

“The encyclopedia of all supernatural beings known to the Men of Letters, organized by state of the victim?” you asked him as you made your way over to the other side of the room, where he was sitting behind the shelves.

“Exactly. These Men of Letters sure knew how to title a book,” he remarked.

“Could I have that, please? I need to look something up for Dean,” you asked, smiling about his joke.

“No. I feel like reading a little more. It's interesting what kind of creatures exist on this forsaken planet you know?”

“As if you don't already know all of them, Lucifer. I really need it. There are people dying!” you started to raise your voice a little, trying to convince the man without having to physically handle the situation. Even though he was sick, his vessel was still muscular and you weren't sure if you could handle a physical fight.

“People are always dying (Y/N),” Lucifer said and looked up from the book. “And they will always continue to do so.”

“Cut your philosophical bull crap! I'm not stupid! But no youngsters are going to be killed by a monster if I can help prevent that!” you shouted angrily and in blind anger ripped the book away from him, leaving him startled as you left the room and returned to yours so you could research in peace.

This guy – or celestial being – was annoying the crap out of you. Just a few moments after you had thought he was trying to do better he went down the asshole path once again. You concentrated on finding answers for Dean, so you wouldn't get too angry about something you couldn't change anyway. Slowly, while reading your anger finally started to fade and you honestly began to wonder how Lucifer got to be the way he was.

Castiel had once told you about him. Or more like what and who he used to be. Heaven's brightest, the morning star. Brighter and more beautiful than the sun itself was. Cas had described his older brother as a being of justice and liberty and he had spent countless hours talking to you about Lucifer's fall and the consequences that the archangels behavior had caused.

Overall, you could understand Lucifer's relationship issues with Chuck and even him not liking humans made sense to you but what you couldn't grasp - no matter how hard you tried to – was how he seemed to be unable or even unwilling to change his future and how he let his past determine what he was today and how he was going to be tomorrow.

For you, changing and growing as a person had always been very important and it was hard for you to understand him in this aspect. But then again, everybody was different, right? Maybe it wasn't in the angel's nature to change.

~TO BE CONTINUED~

Next Chapter → Here.

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Marvel’s Exiles: Overture, Part 2

Travel through the Darkforce Dimension is infamously cold and, unsurprisingly, dark.  Her teeth gritted against the discomfort, Shard Bishop wondered briefly why she could not recall the journey to the mysterious prairie.  Had it been like this?  Disoriented, featureless and mind-numbingly cold?  With effort, Bishop could turn her head to the side, but she could not see anything in any direction.  It was like falling blindfolded, with the accompanying creepy sense that one might hit the ground at any moment.

The abrupt return of gravity and her consequent indelicate landing on solid ground alerted Bishop that she had arrived in normal space.  At first, it was not so different from the Darkforce: still dark, still bitterly cold.  Her feet and left hand were buried in snow, more than a foot deep.  She stood, rubbing her hands together to rid them of the clinging cold.  Removing her sunglasses, Bishop could make out her surroundings by starlight.  The terrain was rugged, with mountains jutting up into the sky all around.  Snow covered nearly every stretch and side she could see, glittering in the pale light from above.  She could also see her five fellow travellers nearby, retrieving their own bearings.

As Bishop began to contemplate what their next step might be, a sharp howl of wind cut down through their midst, impressing upon her the urgency of finding some protection from the frigid alpine weather.  As if in response to the TVA officer’s thoughts, Doctor Storm called out.

“Everyone over here!  Gather close!”

It took only moments for the others to comply with Storm’s command.  It occurred to Bishop to marvel at the ease with which she assumed a leadership role, and how willing the others-- Bishop included-- were to accept her instructions.  Johnny on the Spot was the last to arrive close, clutching his coat around him as he trudged through the knee-deep snow.  Abruptly, the wind cut to a muffled whine as a bubble of invisible force enclosed the group.

“Is anybody hurt?” asked Storm.  Receiving no replies in the affirmative, she continued. “Can anyone give us some heat?”

“A little,” answered Bishop, quickly.  “The starlight doesn’t give me much, but I should be able to keep us from freezing to death.”

“No sweats, I got it.”  It was the teenaged Madeleine Beaubier-Storm who spoke.  Hovering just above the level of the snow, she opened her hand and produced a foot-high fountain of multicolored flames.  Immediately, the air in the bubble began to warm, and Bishop felt a tingle of life enter her skin.

For a protracted moment, no one spoke, each regarding the others in the flickering light.  With a gloved hand, Johnny reached out into the night, surprised when his fingers stopped at the unseen wall.  The Juggernaut broke the silence.  “Should we be concerned about using up the oxygen in here?”

“I’ve left an aperture at the top of the dome.  It will be adequate for air exchange.” Doctor Storm replied.

“Invisible igloo.  Cool.”  If the teenager’s observation was intended as a pun, neither she nor her companions made any mention of it.  Madeleine gathered her knees close to her chest and hovered in a cannonball pose, keeping the hand with the spouting fireworks extended toward the middle of the group.

Rogue pushed her hood back onto her shoulders and ran a gloved hand through her hair.  “Can we take a few minutes to catch our breath?  I’m still trying to wrap my head around… any of this.”  Her voice was husky but carefully level, betraying little in the way of emotion.

Bishop instinctively looked to Susan Storm, who nodded pensively.  They stood in silence for a minute or more, enjoying the crackling heat of Madeleine’s polychromatic firework display.  Bishop pulled her 7D off of her bandolier and snapped it open.  She permitted herself a small sigh of relief: at least it was working again.  This iteration was not in its database, but that was no surprise.  The information on its small readouts could still prove helpful.

“We’re on Earth,” she announced to no one in particular.  “In the Himalayas, what’s probably China.  2016, by Mu Calendar.”

Doctor Storm stepped in close, craning her neck to look at the compact-sized computer.  “This device tells you that?”

Bishop handed it to her without a second thought.  “My seven-dimensional compass.  TVA standard issue.  Tells you where, when and in what iteration of what dimension you are--at least, the best estimate.”

Susan’s eyes flicked hungrily over the readouts on the small display, “Does it have information on this specific universe?”

“Afraid not.  There are thousands of worlds in our database, but compared to infinity…”

“...that’s essentially nothing.” the physicist concluded.  “Still, a very useful device.”

She handed the silver box back to Bishop, and nodded to the golden Tallus on her wrist.  “Do you have any idea how to use that one?”  Bishop could only shake her head, tight-lipped.  She returned the 7D to its hanger and examined the new ornament more closely.  Apart from glittering in the firelight, it gave away nothing.

Gathering her cloak beneath her, Rogue sat on the snow.  “Anyone else hoping this is just a bad dream?”

“I’ll say,” answered Johnny on the Spot.  He pointed a gloved finger at Bishop.  “Accordin’ to her, I’m about five thousand miles and... a hunnert and thirty years from where I had breakfast this mornin’.  I knew this world was fulla strange things, but this…” he concluded his statement with a low whistle.

“I think we’re all a little out of our element, here… with the possible exception of Officer Bishop,” Doctor Storm reminded them.  “I believe the first question we need to ask ourselves is whether we believe this ‘Timebroker’ at all.”

“It wouldn’t be unfathomable that someone could fake this whole thing,” contributed Stark.  “Mephisto… or Nightmare.”

“Mastermind… Mysterio…” continued Rogue, dully.

“But why strangers from alternate realities?” pressed Susan, undeterred.

“For all I know, you’re all figments in this fantasy, created to confuse me.”  There was an edge of annoyance in the Juggernaut’s voice that raised goosebumps on the back of Bishop’s neck.

“Same to you, big guy,” countered Madeleine with a smirk.

“Thinking solipsistically is unlikely to get us anywhere,” Storm addressed them both, affecting a placatory tone.  “As improbable as it may seem, I believe our best course is to trust the information of our senses and proceed on the assumption that all of this rea…”

The sound of Susan’s words was lost in a crackling hum as Bishop’s senses were commandeered.  Stuttering snippets of words, and flickers of images like changing too fast between telesensor channels washed over her mind.  “Wait… I-- I think the Tallus is trying to tell me something.”  Shard’s own voice seemed distant, but through her physical eyes she could see the others watching her with concern.  Squeezing her eyelids closed, she tried to focus on making sense of the jumbled perceptions.  Gradually, a message began to emerge, like a picture made up of hundreds of smaller pictures, like a conceptual symphony.  When she grasped the chord, with a sharp sense of relief, the images disappeared from Bishop’s senses.

“‘Take the Great Refuge to the moon.’  That’s what it said we have to do.”

“Are you alright?”  The Juggernaut’s millstone voice was soft with genuine concern.

“Yeah, fine, it’s fine now.  I’m sharp.  Rotten way to send a transmission, though.”  Bishop gingerly fingered the Tallus on her wrist.  Now it was as unresponsive and inscrutable as it had ever been.  The others were still watching her.  “Anyone know what it means?”

Susan Storm replied, “The term ‘Great Refuge’ likely refers to Attilan, the secret home of the Inhumans.  The directive to take it to the moon makes sense, as a similar event occurred in my world.”

“We have to take this place-- Attilan-- to the moon?” prodded Bishop.

“That’s kinda otherwise,” opined Madeleine.  She stretched out her legs and traded the job of producing a flame from her left hand to her right.  “In my world, Attilan’s been on the moon since, like, the eighties.”

“In mine the exodus occurred in 2004,” added Doctor Storm, pensively.

Johnny on the Spot swept the hat from his head.  Though the black dot that covered his face revealed no emotion, his voice registered pique.  “Can I just remind everyone that I have no goldurned idea what any of y’all are talking about?  If we’re supposed to be in this together, will y’all quit talking over me and fill me in?”

There was an exchange of abashed looks.  Doctor Storm took the initiative to speak.  “I apologize, Mister Ohnn.  We are in an unusual circumstance and I’m still struggling to make sense of it all myself.”

“There’s a lot we don’t know, Johnny,” joined Rogue, standing up and brushing snow from her legs.  “For instance, before we go rushing off to the moon or whatever, I’d like to know who this team is...what they can do.  The Timebroker’s little newsreel didn’t give us enough to put together any kind of strategy.”  She looked directly at Doctor Storm as she spoke.

Storm rose to the challenge.  “You want to know my powers.  Very well.  I can emit a kind of cosmic energy that bends light, effectively making myself or other people and objects invisible to most forms of visual detection.  I can also generate and manipulate solid shapes composed of force, such as the walls of this ‘invisible igloo.’”

“How long can you keep it up?” Rogue pressed her. “My precise endurance depends upon how much pressure I must exert.  Against a wind like this, a long time.  Perhaps a few hours, if I needed to.  Against the onslaught of a Hulk or a--” She paused, momentarily casting her gaze toward Stark. “--Colossus… Seconds.  A minute at most.  Any other questions?”  After a silence, “Very well, moving on.  Madeleine?”

The teenager rolled her eyes.  “Only my dad calls me that.  Just call me Maddie or Skyrocket.  Anglos never pronounce it right anyway.  Uh… I fly and throw fire.  Clearly.”

Maddie had a direct, unpretentious manner that Bishop liked.  The girl reminded her of her own brother.  And, Bishop thought to herself, the pyrotechnics that the she effortlessly produced from her open hand were beautiful… though Shard Bishop had always been a fan of light shows.  

“I’m a photokinetic,” Bishop offered, not waiting for her invitation.  Taking in, without surprise, the uncomprehending glances that the declaration elicited, she elaborated.  “I absorb energy from light and project it back in other forms.  Heat, sound, concussive force…”

Rogue indicated the silver bandolier across Bishop’s chest.  “Any more handy gizmos we should know about on that utility belt?”

“Besides the 7D?  A voice log recorder, a couple of flashbang grenades, a smoke bomb, and spare parts for my sidearm.  Which is, itself, a useful tool-- it’s specially made for me, and channels my energy output, so it doesn’t need a battery or ammunition.”  Bishop drew the long-barrelled energy pistol and held it flat on her open palm as illustration.

“Nothing that can transport through time or dimensions?”

Bishop sighed.  “No.  We have them at the TVA, but I didn’t have one on me when I got… unhinged.  I guess the Timebroker didn’t want us to have a way off this boat.”

“Figures.”  The mercenary shook her head, sucking silently on her teeth.  “What about you, cowboy?”

“Me?  I can toss out these spots.” He demonstrated by opening four circular portals in the air around the group.  They hung indifferently in midair, each a two-dimensional plane the size of a serving platter at a different angle relative to the ground.  Each was simply black, lacking any trace of color or the stereotypical swirling of an interdimensional portal. “By linin’ ‘em up on the other side, I can make things come out wherever I want.”  This, he illustrated by putting his right arm through the nearest portal, withdrawing it, and then plunging it in again.  Each time he did so, his hand and forearm emerged from a different one of the other portals.

“Neat trick,” mused Stark.  “It must kill at parties.”

Without response, Johnny withdrew his arm and closed the portals.  He faced the others blankly, his right heel digging idly in the snow.

“Can those portals only be used for short-range transportation, or can you go further?  Say, a few miles?”  Susan posed the question with the intense interest of both an experienced academic and an aspiring tactician. “Sure, but if’n I can’t see where I’m going, I’m liable to shoot pretty wide of my mark.”

She nodded, considering.  After a few moments of thoughtful silence, she turned to the Juggernaut.  “Stark?”

“Oh, well, I’m strong and just about invulnerable, and I wish you’d call me Tony.  My gauntlets and boots project repulsor beams which let me fly and can be used as weapons.  Oh, and my powers are enhanced by momentum-- once I get going, on the ground or in the air, next to nothing can stop me.”

Rogue’s eyes flashed and she almost stifled a snort.  “A flying Juggernaut?” “Your Juggernaut can’t fly?”  The industrialist seemed genuinely surprised.

“Nope.  Iron Man can, though.”

“Who?” “I’ll tell you later.”  The former X-Man smiled grimly to herself.  Bishop watched her without amusement. “That just leaves you, Rogue.” Rogue turned to Bishop and answered flatly “When I touch people, I take their powers and memories.  Just for a short time, unless I hold on too long, but that can… it doesn’t end well.”

Bishop pressed her.  “How long can you keep a power you’ve stolen?” “Safely?  Two, two and a half minutes.”

“And what happens to the people you touch?”

“They’re weakened, lose whatever power I take.  Sometimes they pass out for a little while.”  She paused, waiting for the interrogation to continue.  At Bishop’s silence, she added “I also have eidetic reflexes-- meaning that whatever I see someone do, I can do.”

“Stolen from Taskmaster, like the Timebroker said?  How is it you’ve managed to keep that ability so long?”  Had she been asked, Bishop would not have been able to say why she pursued the issue so acidly.  Her own voice reverberating off the invisible walls of the bubble sounded strange.

The mercenary’s steely gaze became molten and she advanced on the TVA officer “I held on too long.  Now his brain’s a cabbage and I’m stuck with his power and his memories for good.  You want to make something of it, Time Cop?”

Somehow her teammate’s sudden advance took Bishop by surprise.  She was certain that a fight had not been what she was looking for.  Susan intervened before the situation could degrade any further, breaking the eyeline between Bishop and Rogue with her own head.

“That’s enough,” she scolded.  “I’m sure we all recognize that we’re overwrought, but we needn’t indulge in the cliche of turning on one another.  Tone aside, Officer Bishop was asking questions that interested all of us.  We can address personal courtesy at another time, but for now are there any other pressing strategic questions?”

Maddie raised her free hand like a grade school student.  “I don’t know if this counts, but I have to go to the bathroom.”

Unclenching her jaw for the first time since Bishop had begun grilling her, Rogue turned away with a dry laugh.  “Can’t get much more pressing than that.” Even Susan allowed herself a tiny quirk of a smile.  “I suggest you find some cover and take care of your needs, Skyrocket.  Does anyone else require a... break before we set off?”

There were no responses to Doctor Storm’s inquiry.  Bishop suddenly felt a cutting wind in her back as the invisible force that had been shielding the group fell.  A small amount of snow that had been blown onto the wall itself scattered into the melting snow at their feet, and Madeleine Beaubier-Storm zipped off into the night like a dragonfly.  When the shield rose up again, Bishop instinctively began producing heat from the photonic energy she had accumulated in the colorful light from the teenager’s hands.  The air inside the bubble quickly began to warm up again.

There was a long silence.  Bishop self-consciously avoided watching Rogue, but found that she had nowhere better to set her eyes in the dim light.  Johnny’s eyes were utterly indiscernible, and Stark’s were scarcely better.  Doctor Storm was looking up at the stars through the invisible shield, to all appearances unconcerned with what her companions were thinking.  The scientist cleared her throat.

“In my world, Attilan was in the Himalayas for a time.  Unless anyone has another idea, I propose that we make our way to the location of my Attilan.  It seems probable that this world’s Attilan would be in the same place.  In any case, it’s as good a place as any to begin searching.  Any objections to that course?”

There was no immediate opposition to the idea.  “Good,” she continued.  “I was able to make out our latitude and longitude on Officer Bishop’s compass, and I remember the coordinates of Attilan from the times that I visited there with the Fantastic Four.  From that, all it takes is simple geometry to know that Attilan-- or at least, the location it occupied on my world-- is approximately five and a half nautical miles east by north… which, based on the location of the pole star, is that way.”

Bishop’s eyes followed Doctor Storm’s outstretched arm into the rugged mountains and the starlit night.  All at once, the thinness of the air at this altitude became oppressive and she sucked in a breath to stave off light-headedness.  She did not relish the idea of slogging six or seven miles through the snowy mountains.

“It seems to me that we’re working on the basis of a lot of assumptions,” Stark mused, “but, like you said, Doc… it’s as good a place as any to start looking.”

A flare of colored light just outside the bubble of invisible force informed the assemblage that Maddie had returned.  Bishop gritted her teeth, and the wind once again bit into her skin.

“Tony--” began Doctor Storm, her voice raised against the rushing wind.

“Yeah?” answered Rogue.  She caught herself just as Susan’s head snapped to face her.  The beginnings of a surprising blush darkened the mercenary’s cheeks.  “I-- never mind.  Go ahead.”

The Juggernaut interjected a placating voice into the momentary awkwardness. “What can I help you with, Doctor?”

“I’ve been thinking about how we can travel most efficiently under these conditions.  Would I be right in assuming that your mystic power protects you from this cold?”

Stark flashed another wide, toothy smile. “You certainly would.”

Scarcely a minute later, five of the conscripted companions were lifted into the night sky in another bubble of invisible force.  The bubble perched on top of the Juggernaut like a howdah, and rocketed with him as he was propelled forward by a burst of crimson fire from the heels of his boots.  Bishop pressed her hands and her forehead against the side of the bubble, and watched the landscape rush past in a dizzying blur.

The invisible wall warmed immediately under her touch, and for a moment she felt herself relax.  From somewhere in the sweeping chaos of her mind, the TVA officer emerged and began to parse the situation.  She was in an unknown iteration, cut off from her fellow officers and most of her tools.  That much, at least, had been covered by her training at the Authority.  The experience of being yoked to five complete strangers and a mission with disturbingly vague parameters was new, as was the curiously compelling agency that assigned the mission, but the essential principles of working in strange worlds and times were unchanged.  Plan ahead.  Practice discretion.  Support your partner… partners.  Complete the mission.  Deep breath, Bishop.  There’s nothing you can’t handle.

As if to give lie to her self-assurance, the landscape shook with a rumbling thrum so loud and deep as to be felt even in an isolated force bubble in mid-air.  Before the astonished eyes of the assembled superhumans, a colossal span of rock and snow rose from some hidden valley out of sight and hovered at the level of the highest mountain peak.  It betrayed no visual sign of the power that lifted it; only the incessant thrumming pressure that shook snow from the mountainsides.  On the upward face of the rock expanse stood a city, small but magnificent.  Its alien architecture had a beauty to rival the techno-skyscrapers Bishop’s own time.  The city hovered four seconds, maybe five, before streaking off toward the eastern sky at an incredible speed.

“Attilan!  Go after it, Juggernaut!  We must overtake it!”  Bishop seriously doubted that Stark could hear Doctor Storm’s shouted words.  She could barely hear them herself over the pounding hum of the city’s engines, and she didn’t have to contend with the wind or a wall of invisible force between them. In any case, he must have had the same idea, because he adjusted his course and, with a flashy burst from the soles of his feet, redoubled his speed.

“Guess I shouldn’t have taken that bathroom break!” Maddie Beaubier-Storm shouted, to no one in particular.  Below them, the rugged terrain passed by in a desperate blur.

Bishop could see the strain that creased Susan Storm’s face as she struggled to maintain their bubble of protection at the incredible speed.  Her dark eyes snapped back and forth between the physicist’s face and the flying city which did not appear to be getting any closer.  “We’ll never catch up to it,” she said out loud, though she did not expect anyone to hear her.

Bishop whirled.  “Johnny, can you get us in front of it?”

To his credit, the bandit was only momentarily surprised.  He tipped his hat back with one thumb and gazed inscrutably ahead.  “I reckon I can,” he called back.

With no further word or gesture from Johnny on the Spot, a circular portal stretched open in front of them, black on the black night.  Without hesitation, the Juggernaut plunged them into it, emerging a millisecond later to a view nearly identical, but notably lacking their vast quarry.  Bishop, Rogue and Skyrocket rushed to the back of the bubble to see the Great Refuge behind them and gaining.  Stark pitched upward and in a moment, the assemblage was over the streets of Attilan.

The Juggernaut landed in the street with sufficient delicacy as to make only a few small cracks in the stone, and the invisible howdah lowered itself to the ground before passing out of existence.  The sound of the engines was somehow less overwhelming in the city itself than it had been before, but the shriek of wind rushing through the buildings was nearly as disruptive.  The streets themselves appeared empty.

Doctor Storm caught Johnny on the Spot by his shoulders and shouted something that the others could not hear.  She pointed to a large, high window set in the largest tower at the center of the city.  Obligingly, a spot tall enough for any of them to walk through appeared over the street, and Susan waved to indicate they should pass through it.  Rogue was the first in, followed by Madeleine.  Bishop hesitated only a moment before following into the space-black portal.

The transition from the dark and roaring night to the comparatively silent tower room was abrupt and left Shard Bishop’s ears ringing.  She stepped away from the Darkforce spot and made an instinctive situation assessment of the room in which she found herself.  Including Skyrocket, Rogue, and herself, there were thirteen in the room.  Four she recognized as the Fantastic Four from her own world’s history:  Reed and Susan Richards, Jonathan Storm and Benjamin Grimm.  The other six, she reasoned, must be the denizens of this city, whom Doctor Storm had called Inhumans.  

They mostly looked human enough, excluding the pug the size of a DOVA shuttle.  Two seemed to be women, one statuesque with an impossible volume of bright red hair, the other young and bright, with blonde, close-cropped hair.  The three men were even more varied: one small and lean, his head shaved; another scaled all over like a reptile.  The final Inhuman was a tall and powerfully muscled man, sheathed head to toe in a shimmering black material.

As the last of her companions hurried through the portal, Bishop stepped forward, her empty hands held out from her sides.  “Everyone try and stay calm,” she said, her dark eyes seeking out contact with as many of the room’s occupants as she could manage, “We’re here to help.”

A few pairs of eyes turned to Bishop at the sound of her voice, but most were focused behind her, at the Juggernaut and, naturally, the second Invisible Woman.  Mister Fantastic’s neck craned forward a meter and he blinked his eyes heavily as if to clear them.  “Susan?  But… how?”

With a supercilious frown, Doctor Storm stepped forward.  “Calm yourself, Richards,” she chided.  “I’m not your Susan.”  She left the words hanging a little longer than a standard dramatic pause.  The walls of the wide room seemed to be made up entirely of windows and large banks of computers.  For this time in Earth’s history, the computers seemed well in advance of human technology and yet somehow terribly archaic, with spinning reels and innumerable blinking lights.  “We’ve come from another reality, and we’re only here to help you get this city to the moon,” Doctor Storm continued at last. “Then we’ll be gone.”

Reed Richards’ elastic eyes remained wide with wonderment, and for a moment the excitement of questions bubbling within his powerful brain was practically palpable.  All at once he caught himself.  “The moon?  We aren’t going to the moon.  Our destination is South America, the Andes mountain range.”

“It seems that someone has another idea.  Medusa, Black Bolt,” Doctor Storm addressed two of the Inhumans, the red-haired woman and the man in black, “we have been sent here to deliver Attilan to a new home on the moon.  I can give a little more explanation, but I suspect our time may be short, so I must ask you now: are you amenable to this?”

The red-haired woman looked to the man, but no words passed between them.  They watched each other carefully for several interminable seconds.  The silent gaze between them was interrupted by a sudden, violent quaking of the whole tower that threw most of them to the floor.  The computers that ringed the walls shrieked and sparked, and sections of lights began to flicker out.  The incessant hum of the engines, already far more muffled than it had been outside, spun down and stopped.  There was, for a time, the sickening sensation of falling.

Then Attilan crashed into the sea. To be continued...

[hexacorallia]

Acid And Copper

That asshole is trying to kill me. Sure, we’ve had our disagreements. No, I shouldn’t have tried to combine our two apartments by breaking his bedroom wall with a sledgehammer. No, it probably wasn’t the best move to antagonize him at that party last Sunday. Poor fucker ended up dangling nose-over-heel off the roof to try and prove a point. But none of that is worth him pounding at my door, bloody spit flying from his lips as he screams, “Get out here, Snake! I‘ve got something for you!” How did we get to this point? We used to be such good friends! Ok, that’s a lie. We never got along. Well, I take that back. There was this time in the 2nd grade when Dingo broke his pencil. Actually, it was the first time we met. Little ingrate started crying enough to drum up a thunderstorm. I quelled the snot-nosed beast with one of my pencils. I didn’t have any weird emotional attachments to wood and graphite, unlike him. Maybe that pencil was his best friend. Maybe his mother on her deathbed told him, “Son, I never told you how much I love you. You are my shining sun and my shimmering moon. Here is an HB-1 school-grade pencil to represent that love.” I don’t know. Nor did I care. I just wanted the tear explosion to stop. I stopped my pointless cursive practice and handed him my pencil. I really didn’t care about my work. His pudgy, wet fingers grasped around it. I shuddered slightly when an errant drop of whatever was coming out of his face and sticking to his hands dripped onto mine, but at least he was quiet now. His tears dried on his cheeks, his eyes sparkled as the tears receded, and a gap-tooth grin spread across his face. Pie-eyed, he stared at me like I brought the damn Power Rangers to school. He sat next to me the rest of the day, sharing his juice box and sticky macaroni art. That was the beginning of a torrid “friendship”. You know that stupid fake word “frenemy” that some girl’s magazine writer made up to spice up the quizzes about school and boys? Yeah, that was us. Like I said, we never really got along, yet for some reason, we still hung out and considered ourselves to be friends. I remember this one time in high school. Senior year. Jenny Blacksmith. Her ginger-red hair and teal-blue eyes made all the boys turn into mush. Mush whose pants suddenly were just a little too tight. It was a tight-pant epidemic. I’m not quite sure what had happened between junior and senior year, but somehow the “Jenny” that sat in the back of the class with coke-bottle glasses and a constant array of kitten t-shirts turned into this. I guess her hormones took pity on her and went into overtime that summer. Or she had work done. Point is, no one noticed her until the first day of senior year when she strutted into the school like a damn model. Jeans that hugged every curve, buttoned shirt with the top three buttons strategically undone, and the contents of the cosmetic section vomited on her face. I noticed her only because it was different. I could not care less about her, she just was a new thing to notice in the sea of unnoticeables. But everyone else noticed her. She was the new black. She set off this trend where every girl, and I mean EVERY girl, tried to dye their hair red. Even that punk Mandy. Looked terrible on her. She dyed it too bright and she looked like she was going to grow fins and a purple shell bra at any minute. But I digress. Dingo’s pants were not vaccinated against the epidemic, so he was rocking the camp-tent look anytime Jenny’s plastic-strawberry-scented hair flipped his way. Oh, she was loving the attention. She’d give that little dweeb a little wink and smirk whenever she saw him drooling. And I stared at him, looking like a fool, slobbering all over this genetically-enhanced female. I didn’t care. It’s not that I had something better to care about, I just couldn't make myself care about anything. I guess maybe this was why Dingo and I were friends. We were so vastly different that somehow, we equaled each other out in the universe. I didn’t care what I wore, didn’t care what grades I got, didn’t care about bases or drugs or looking fantastic. It’s not that I didn’t participate. I just didn’t actively seek anything out. I pretty much was an after-school special. I drank, smoked, did whatever drugs Sonic the Hedgehog or Pee-Wee Herman would tell the kiddies not to do unless they wanted to end up as street thugs. Never did have sex, though. There was just something about all that effort with no big reward that turned me off. I observed more than anything. Watched the day-to-day lives of these little cockroaches in a glass house. But Dingo, he was the exact opposite. He always tried to fit in and do whatever would make him cool or looked up to. He was so affected by everything. An errant look from someone he deemed awesome would send him into a downward spiral for a week. He drank only because I did, and he wanted to match me. He watched me as girls would swoon over my nonchalant attitude, try to match me, and get furious that his attempts failed. What he was missing is that I wasn’t putting on a façade. I really didn’t care. Not all of the acting classes in the world can teach that. But we weighed each other out. I didn’t care enough, he cared too much. We mutually despised and loved each other. So anyway, back to the story, after about a month of dealing with mopping up Dingo’s drool and trying not to listen when he talked about her freckles “that were like the stars on a pale white bed of snow,” we were both at a party on a Friday night. He slicked his hair back and looked like a total slouchy dumbass in the body of a marginally cool dude. I wore my pabulum plaid flannel, worn-out old band t-shirt, and an unimpressed attitude. I was pondering my lukewarm, carbonated piss-beer when the strawberry plastic floated by. Suddenly, every guy in the room got ten times more buff as they held their breath. Every girl became suddenly more aware of sliding eyeliner and patchy foundation. And I became aware of hot pink breath clouding around my ear. “Hey, Snake.” “Heeeeey, Jenny. What’s up?” “Not much. Ooh, that beer looks yummy. Can I have a sip?” “Um, sure. Whatever.” “Thanksssss…” I noticed a slur that I didn’t notice before. Her eyes, usually clear pools of blue, were clouding. She wobbled to the left, corrected to the right, and fell right into my uninterested arms. Shitshitshitshitshit. Jenny motherfucking Blacksmith just fell into my arms. I didn’t care that I had an opportunity to impress her. I cared because I didn’t want to get beaten up by 25 faux-macho teenagers. I hoisted her limp body up, stepped over the recently liberated beer pooling in an amber lake at my feet, and made a beeline for the stairs, all while Dingo stared with terrified and jealous eyes. I pattered up the stairs and down the hallway, past pictures of a cute family in a cute backyard with a cute dog. In that instant I realized I had no idea who the fuck’s house I was in. I swiftly dodged past a girl coming out of the bathroom, nearly ramming Jenny‘s head against one of those cute pictures. She had disheveled hair and had some frothy liquid running down her neck. I figured she was just making friends with the porcelain throne until an equally messy guy came out two seconds after. But I didn’t care, I was saving a life! I threw the bedroom door at the end of the hallway open and carried her over the threshold like a seasick bride carried by her overwhelmed sailor husband. “You ok?” I asked, exhausted. She actually looked kinda pretty in the dim light of the bedroom. I looked around as I caught my breath. Green plaid bed sheets, hunter green walls, tacky leather chair. I gathered that this was the father’s room. “Mmm…better than ok.” She suddenly seemed just a little less…unconscious than she did a few seconds ago. I felt glittery hands pull my neck in. I felt my legs part ways with the burgundy carpet. I felt slick strawberry lips mash themselves against mine in a poorly-coordinated battle to the death. Ok. I’m kissing Jenny Blacksmith. And honestly, I don’t give much of a shit. She’s popular, which I don’t care about. She’s pretty, which I also don’t really care about. She’s…wait. This is Dingo’s “girl”. This is the girl Dingo wrote with his last name on his notebook. This is wrong. Wait. When the fuck did I ever care about wrong or right? This is an opportunity to maybe see what it’s like to be a normal human. I stopped struggling and leaned over her like a cat about to kill a grasshopper. And then I bit down, like a cat that caught a grasshopper. Is this what I’m supposed to do? Her thrashing legs gave mixed signals. Her tongue felt around my lips. This is normal? Hmmm. But she felt warm. And soft. And comfortable. And she smelled like… Plastic strawberries. This is wrong. I don’t care if I don’t care about Dingo. I don’t care if we’re “frenemies.” Somewhere deep down in that passive little heart of mine, I still had some sense of morals. I pulled away just in time to see Dingo’s heart break into pieces on the burgundy floor, his silhouette outlined by the light from the hallway. Even in the darkness, I could see his pained expression. It was a common expression for him, but there was a slightly fresh coat of paint on it. Like this was the time. This was different than any other time he'd been hurt before. And it was probably because it was me doing the hurting. “Waitwaitwait, this isn’t what it-” Tears were welling up in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a crackled squeak. He covered his face with his hands, turned, and stomped down the hallway and out the front door, slamming it hard enough to make the macho boys cringe. “Aw, goddamnit, Dingo.” I turned around to see Jenny wearing a lot less than she was a few minutes ago. Her lacy bra and underwear that said Friday (even though it was Saturday morning at this point, though just by ten minutes) made her desperation glow in the light peeking in from the hallway. “Put your clothes on, Jenny,” I muttered. “But Snake! I wanted to-” “Yeah, well I don’t.” My little foray into normalcy was over. The moment was over. It didn't matter that this could have been my one opportunity to see what is was like to throw down whatever shackles bound me to my personality and lead life like they do on TV. But I couldn't. Maybe I could have if she wasn't...well...her, but Dingo was my only friend. He was the only person that could actually occupy space in my heart, no matter how hard it was to admit that. I threw her arm that was clinging to my wrist back at her unclothed body. I pounded out of the room. As I walked down the stairs, from the bedroom door came the sound of sniffling which turned into wailing which turned into a bloody thunderstorm of my name echoing through the halls and cutting through the crowd that had fallen silent at Dingo’s grand exit. As I walked to the front door, Bathroom Guy breezed past me and up the stairs. I lingered for a moment before I walked out, scoffed at the faces that were now all turned towards me, and walked out, but not before I heard the bedroom door gently close. I started walking to my car parked in the lot at the end of the street. I parked it there so I could come get it in the morning when I wasn’t drunk, but Jenny had ruined my fun. Not that I had any real interest in that carbonated piss anyway. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw it. “Snake is a fuking asshol” was scrawled across the side of my car. Not scrawled so much as dug out of the paint. My first thought was, Dingo, your spelling sucks. And then I thought, MY CAR WHAT DID YOU DO. And then I realized, this wasn’t my fault. This was how our “friendship” was gonna be. And that’s how things were. Dingo ignored me for about a month, and then he came crawling back. He always would. We went to separate colleges. I got my business degree and somehow grew just a little bit of emotion. Antagonism is an emotion, right? I started caring about some things. Maybe I was faking it, but I started to have pseudo-friends. I threw parties. I got pretty damn good grades. Dingo went to a different college and also got a business degree. We stayed friends through both of our collegiate tenures. He even moved into the apartment next to mine, which he probably now regrets. Last month, during a particularly stupid (or perhaps genius) moment of mine, I rammed through the wall connecting our two apartments to try and make one big apartment. I guess after high school, all those dumb ideas that were probably percolating in me started to manifest, and I’d grown out of my apathy enough to actually do them. You should’ve seen the look on his face when that sledgehammer burst through the drywall like an alien baby through a ribcage. “Hey Dingo! How are ya, neighbor? Well, roommate, now!” I grinned through powder and insulation. “What…the…” He stared at me from the couch opposite the new wound in his wall. He was reading some business magazine, trying again to get the edge over me at work. Oh yeah, we work at the same company. To his distain, he’s technically my subordinate, but he’s always attempting a coup d’etat. “Ok, please tell me that you didn't just break the walls so that our apartments are connected because you have some stupid plan.” “Uh, ok, I won't tell you that.” “...I fucking hate you.” I smiled and waved at him, ran back to my kitchen, grabbed a few beers, and went back over to his side. I unceremoniously sat myself down on his floor, turned on his TV, and started drinking. I offered him a beer, but the little baby wouldn't take it. He just sat there reading his newspaper, a vein clearly popping up on his forehead, pretending I wasn't there. “Aw, man! Look at the score!” “I'm really not listening to you.” “If you're not listening, then how could you respond to me?” He sighed and turned back to his newspaper, which was now becoming shredded on the ends because he was gripping it so hard. He didn’t really like the new adjoining apartment thing. The hole is now covered in awful floral fabric that’s bolted down on his side so I can’t use it as a door. His idea of “revenge” was cutting the crotch out of all of my pants. Why he thought that would actually bother me is beyond me. I just bought more and locked my closet. Then he tried to convince my (well, technically our) boss that I was dealing drugs to middle school students. He did this under the pretense that he was still pissed about his (well, technically our) wall, but I know that he was just simmering anger over so many things about me, including that somehow, that apathetic ass he called his best friend in high school is doing better than him in life. Bossman knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t actually do that and that Dingo is constantly trying to gain the upper hand, so all this ended in was nothing for me and a day refilling every stapler in the entire office for Dingo. Fast-forward to the present, skipping all the times we fought over asinine things and I won and then he tried to get revenge on me. Here’s Dingo, that whiny little child, that emotional little teenager, that underhanded little adult, pounding at my door, waving a pistol in front of my peephole. “Get out here, Snake! I have something for you!” Yeah, I’m gonna fall for that. At least the door’s locked. I walk back to the other side of the room, heart racing. Slumping over, I slide down the wall till I'm sitting on the floor. I can literally feel my heartbeat in my tongue. BAM! Ok, the door’s not locked anymore. In fact, the door doesn’t exist any more. There is no longer any door between me and the crazy man waving a gun in my apartment. His boots clomp loudly in the room, echoing off every wall (except the one that's still just a curtain). He slowly stomps towards me as I back up against the wall, sweaty palms sliding across the carpet until I'm standing as pressed to the wall as I can. A defense mechanism, really. Be as thin as you can so the enemy doesn't see you. Not that that really applies here, but it's all I'm running with. I swallow acid and copper. The sweat’s starting to drench my clothes, soaking though to my plaid flannel. Is it hot in here? Am I imagining things, or does it smell like plastic strawberry? He looms over me. Was Dingo always this tall? I can smell the confidence and power on him and the desperation and fear on me. My eyes widen. My pupils let all the light in. He’s smiling at me like a Cheshire Cat in a green parka. “Heeeey, Snake. I wanted to return something to you.” I wait for the end. The big black curtains to close over this story. The sound makes me jump. A clatter. A small boom. Always thought a gunshot would be a lot louder than that. And that it would hurt a hell of a lot more. But I guess no one's lived to tell the tale, so I wager that was is. Just a painless little snap that brought you up to the Pearly Gates. I opened my eyes, waiting to look into the eyes of God. This is it. This is heaven. Heaven sure looks an awful lot like my apartment. And God sure looks an awful lot like the back of crazed Dingo. And God’s gun sure looks an awful lot like those stupid lighters that are shaped like pistols. I see it sitting at my feet. A slender, yellow object, pink and silver on one end and brown and grey on the other. It said “HB-1” in bold black letters on the side.

[souloben]

candyfloss [stiles stilinski]

- This idea was suggested to me by Chowandnoodles.

- first thing I want to say is; thank you so much for 100 reads! I started out with the thought that anyone reading it would be an amazing goal, so 100 is just nr9pddjohlrbfd. Thank you :) This imagine is just a really sweet and fluffy one. (hint hint at the name.) I actually struggled to write this one, so it might be a little short or not that good.

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Y/N hugged her knees as she sat on her window ledge, the chill in the air making her shiver. It was almost Halloween, so cold weather was pretty expected, but nevertheless it irritated Y/N.

She hated being cold, basically everyone who had made her acquaintance knew that, and so winter was a pretty dreaded season for her. She loved Christmas and Thanksgiving, it was just the grey skies and freezing cold air that diminished her interest completely. She knew, of course, her boyfriend Stiles was the complete opposite. For some weird reason, the boy completely relished winter and acted like an over excited puppy whenever it snowed.

Smiling and simultaneously rolling her eyes at the thought, Y/N grasped her mug of steaming tea that was sitting on the ledge and started to gulp the hot liquid down. She glanced through her clear glass window at the golden-orange trees, the matching colored leaves falling gracefully onto the grass.

Y/N began to get lost in her thoughts-a common habit of hers, in the way the leaves swayed on their branch with such smooth ease, the way they were intertwined so perfectly with the bark and weren't torn apart by the force of the raging wind. So lost in thought actually, she didn't hear her phone go off with the buzz of a new message.

Stiles - Y/N can i ask you something? (: [Sent 3:58 PM]

Stiles - oh god, are you over analyzing the way rachel looks at ross in friends? [Sent 4:01 PM]

Me - close enough, i was looking at the trees actually ;) [Sent 4:04 PM]

Stiles - typical [Sent 4:05 PM]

Me - yeah, what do you wanna ask me? [Sent 4:06 PM]

In a way that was typically Stiles, he responded by jumpscaring Y/N with the calling ringtone. Trying to get her heart rate down to a normal level, she answered.

"Jesus christ, Stiles, I practically jumped out of my skin!" She whined, the speed of her heartbeat 100% increasing at the sound of his laugh. "Okay, okay, would you say yes to going out with me to-" He began, quickly cut off by Y/N. "Stiles, you're my boyfriend and I love you, but seriously. Do you even know me at all? It's literally minus degrees outside." She exclaimed, gesturing to the window although she knew he couldn't see her over the phone.

"I know, I know, just hear me out. It's a themed halloween festival, and I know how much you like seasonal stuff, so.." He trailed off at his girlfriend's lack of response. Y/N could feel her stomach somersault, the thought of anything halloween themed making her fill up with excitement.

"Oh my god, are you serious?" She breathed, encouraging a nervous laugh from Stiles. "Y-you wanna go?" He asked in disbelief. "Stiles, you were the one who watched all those slasher movies with me no matter the season. Isn't it a little obvious that I freaking love halloween?"

"Wow. So, you're coming?" He asked, still sounding a little shocked. Y/N grinned. "I'll brave the freezing weather for the food and you, Stilinski. Just hold on while I put on 25 sweaters." She told him, searching around in her closet with great enthusiasm.

 ღ  

"Oh hell, I really underestimated how cold Beacon Hills could get." Y/N mumbled, her breath a visible fog. Stiles smirked, taking her left hand in his. "We're nearly there, don't worry." He assured her, encouraging an eyebrow raise from her. "Stiles, we should've taken the jeep." She responded, reliving the recent memory with a trace of confusion. "Now I mention it, why didn't we? I thought you'd never leave Roscoe behind, eternal bond kinda thing?"

Stiles shrugged. "I really like the colder seasons, I guess. Walking's more interesting, especially when you're here with me." He told her, winking. Y/N snorted. "Oh my god, Stiles, you should be glad I love you. You're such a cornball." She grinned, her eyes suddenly lighting up when the Halloween festival came into view.

"There it is, come on!" She said excitedly, gripping his hand so he was forced to run along with her. Stiles shook his head, amused. The two were greeted by the ambience of talking crowds, booming music that you could hear from a mile off and the sound of batter being fried.

The festival ground was heavily decorated with carved pumpkins, the dim glow from them ghosting their pathway with light. Black and orange streamers were strewn along the unlit street lamps, the large 'Beacon Hills Spookfestival' sign hanging onto the entrance for dear life.

"Oh my god, Stiles, can we go apple bobbing?" Y/N suggested, gesturing wildly to the barrel in view. He grinned, nodding. "We can try everything if that's what you want, Y/N." She smiled even wider, if that was possible. "God, you're the best."

The two of them sort-of-strolled through the festival grounds, Y/N pausing often to excitedly point out yet another decoration or activity. "Do you think there'll be those weird mirror things? The ones that make you look really distorted?" She asked, a visible bounce in her step. Stiles tilted his head to the side, confused, then the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. "I think that's more of a circus thing, y'know..." He responded, his warm brown eyes widening suddenly.

"Stiles?" Y/N called, confused as he stopped in his tracks. He pointed vaguely, his mouth agape. She stopped beside him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh my god, don't say.." She began, trailing off when he nodded eagerly. "I have to get that damn bear." He told her, his voice full of determination.

Rolling her eyes, she followed him over to the stand where a huge toy bear that looked vaguely like a skeleton was being held up for grabs. "Hey, do you know how much this bear is?" Stiles asked the incredibly bored looking stand assistant. Giving him a dirty look, he shook his head. "Son, you gotta win that thing. 2 bucks a try." He lazily pointed to the claw-like thing that was connected to the machine.

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "Hey wait, the the bear's huge. How am I supposed to lift that out with a claw?" He asked, confused. The assistant brushed him off with a simple hand gesture. "You want the damn thing, you put the money in the slot, you play. Not my problem if that doesn't work out for you, kiddo."

Stiles frowned again, shooting a glare at the assistant when he looked away. "Stiles, it's okay, it's only a bear." She assured him, although secretly she would've loved it if she owned the thing. He shook his head gingerly, placing two dollars into the slot. The machine started up with a low groan, and he took hold of the claw controls. His eyes narrowed with concentration, he attempted to close it on the bear. Y/N felt herself grow tense as the claw grabbed, and missed the toy by an inch. "Shit.." The boy muttered under his breath, determined to prove the assistant wrong.

After one unbelievably tense full minute, the machine slowed to a stop, leaving the two of them staring at the bear that was irritatingly out of reach. "Time's up, kid. You gonna pay again or what?" The assistant told him, a lazy smirk on his face at Stiles's failure. He fumbled around in his hoodie's pocket for money to no avail. Y/N grabbed a couple of dollars from her own jean's pocket and passed them to Stiles, winking.

He pushed them into the slot, a bead of sweat forming above his brow. Y/N watched nervously, knowing it was their last chance. "Go on Stiles, grab it by the balls." She whispered in his ear, forcing him to fight back laughter. Identical to the previous attempt, he failed to grasp the bear with the claw. The bear was unfairly large and the claw too small to make lifting it out of the machine a possible feat, anyway.

Stiles leant his head against the cool glass, groaning. The assistant clapped his hands to get his attention, smiling smugly. "Well well kids, you failed. Now, run along or give us another two dollars." He told them, raising an eyebrow. "You literally made the whole thing impossible on purpose. What the hell?" Y/N exclaimed, folding her arms angrily. The assistant shrugged, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Jesus, you kids are pushy. Didn't you hear what I said? Pay up, or get outta here. Simple." Stiles nodded slowly in reply, not looking the guy in the eye. The assistant removed the bear from the machine, instead placing it on the glass display.

"Yeah, come on Y/N, we may as well leave it. Apple bobbing and that, y'know?" He told her, surprising her at his sudden lack of determination. "Oh-okay?" They both walked off in the direction opposite to the stand, the air filled with tension as to what was about to happen. In a blink of an eye, Stiles practically sprinted to the stand and grabbed the bear, returning back to where Y/N was in a flash. He tapped her on the shoulder and flourished the bear in all it's stuffed, halloween-y glory to her. Her mouth widened into to a perfect 'o' and her gaze fell to the bear, then to him, then back to the bear. "You didn't.." She trailed off, grinning. "I did."

"Oh my god, Stiles!" She exclaimed, her words hushed as he placed a finger to her lips. "Don't let him hear you." He laughed before taking her hand in his. "God, you're cold." He said softly, squeezing her hand gently to encourage warmth. She shrugged. "This was worth it." She told him, the stuffed bear in one arm. And her words rang with truth, her heart was full of love and happiness although the rest of her body was feeling the effects of the freezing October weather.

As they left the festival grounds hand in hand, for once Y/N was appreciating going out in the cold weather. The date had left with with a new lease of life, sort of.

She still preferred Summer, though.

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