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ficmashup · 5 months

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A Date

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: These two are such idiots, I love them. I'm already feeling the itch to make this ten parts and I'm trying to resist (not really) so we'll see! I know what I want to happen next, but we'll see how many chapters it takes to get there. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Some SA references if you squint, crass language.

Word Count: 3.1k

Feral Masterlist

My foot taps insistently on the floor as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve changed clothes five times and while each outfit has irritated me in some way, nothing makes me more frustrated than the fact that I’ve changed clothes five times. It’s so unlike me. But there’s no protocol for going on a date with your captain. There’s fucking protocol to not date your captain. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I take a deep breath, my gaze dropping to my phone for the dozenth time.

It’s been a couple days since Price stayed here and since we set a date to go out. Like actually go out.

The only people I can call are the people I absolutely do not want to know about this. Simon would either pretend not to care then tail us from my apartment or show up randomly wanting to meet my date. Soap would tease the hell out of me and keep bothering me until I told him who it is so he could do a background check. Gaz…he’s the wildcard. And it’s for that reason alone that I pick up the phone and call him.

The phone rings as I put it on speaker and set it on the dresser in front of me as I stare at the screen. “G? Hey!” His voice comes over and I smile a little at the instant warmth in his tone. The tapping of my foot slows.

“Gaz.” I greet him, then realize I have no clue what I’d like to say. “What are you doing?”

“I’m in the shops getting a few things for this weekend. You’re going to fucking love the dip I’m bringing.” I hear the soft shuffling of bags and more of my nerves ebb at his easygoing tone. We’re all gathering at Price’s to watch the game before we’re heading back to base this weekend. “You’re bringing something too, yeah?”

“You know I’m bringing dessert and I don’t want to hear a fucking word about it.” I bite and smile when I hear him chuckling.

“Thought your idea of dessert was sucking on a spoon of sugar, G. You know the whole point of watching the game is to eat chips and dip in front of a big tv, yeah? We don’t need dessert.”

“You need something sweet to cut the salt all of you are inhaling every second.”

“It’s a dip party.”

“It’s a football party and I’m making a dip.”

“A dessert dip? The fuck is it, a bowl of whipped cream?”

“I’ve seen you and Johnny race to finish containers of whipped cream, so don’t even try pretending you wouldn’t love that.” I’m grinning now and while a ball of nerves still remains heavy in my stomach, I no longer feel weighed down by it.

Gaz grunts over the phone. “Ugh, right. Nearly threw up after that.”

“Mmhmm.” I remember clearly, for some reason, I was suckered into rubbing both Gaz and Soap’s backs while they tried not to puke. “If you don’t want to try what I bring, then you don’t have to.” There’s a beat.

“No, I’ll try it.” He gives in almost instantly and I smirk while I walk into my kitchen, leaning against the counter while I stare at the door. A glance at the clock reveals that it’s nearly time and if there’s anything I can count on, it’s that John will be on schedule. “But did you need something, G? Or have you just missed my sweet voice?” Gaz asks and I hear some plastic crinkling as he no doubt piles chips into his shopping cart.

My lips press together for a moment as I consider what to say. “Just missed your voice, Kyle. Looking forward to trying whatever monstrosity of a dip you end up bringing.”

“Hm, careful, G. All those sweets are starting to rub off on you. That was almost sweet.”

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah, that’s more like it.”

“Bye, Gaz.”

“Later, G.”

I hang up and take a deep breath, feeling steady again before there’s a knock at the door. The zing of nerves flushes through my body and I don’t let myself think about it as I walk over and swing the door open without hesitation. My body instantly softens at the sight of Price in a white button down, pressed slacks, and a bouquet of roses. I’m struck dumb instantly.

My name falls off his lips, sweet as honey, and the way he looks me up and down makes me grateful that I finally chose a black dress. “You’re stunning.” He says it like a fact and I smile, pressing my lips together to keep from grinning like a fool as I welcome him inside. I definitely don’t let my eyes slide over his broad back and see how his pants fit his backside and thighs very nicely. “Wasn’t sure how you felt about flowers, so I figured I’d hedge my bets.” He places the beautiful bouquet on my kitchen counter while I grab a vase and I smile as I turn around to see him placing a small bag of my favored hard candies beside them.

“And you say that you’re not good at diplomacy.” I tease and earn a chuckle while I fill a vase with water.

“Don’t think many would accept flowers and candy in exchange for weapons or tac gear.” He lifts the bouquet and slides the already cut stems into the vase as I set it on the counter next to him.

“You never know. Something to try.” I smirk up at him while he smirks down at me and fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve so easily had fun with someone. “You look really good.” I say it before I can think too hard about it and luckily, my head is blissfully quiet as his smile sweetens while those pretty blue eyes shine.

“Good thing too. Maybe I won’t look too outta place next to you.” He says and I blink before I lift my hand to flutter over my mouth to hide my wide smile. Fucking smooth talker. “Ready?” Price tilts his head towards the door and I nod, grabbing my small purse and sliding a few candies into it. He offers his arm and I take it with a little smile, feeling…well, like I’m going on an actual date.

The car ride is easy, nothing we haven’t done before, but the nerves creep back as we walk into a nice restaurant. Although it’s terribly sweet how John shifts and his hand slides over mine wrapped around his arm when he confirms the reservation. Maybe he’s as nervous as I am. “Is this your usual haunt for dates?” I ask him softly as we settle down at a table. Thankfully, it has a clear view of the doors.

John heaves a breath and shakes his head. “No. Thought that since we’re both a bit out of practice, going back to basics might be best.” He settles into his chair and there’s a small smile on my face as he looks around a bit, hands smoothing over his thighs. Somehow, him being nervous makes me less nervous. It means he cares as much as I do.

“Bet I can beat you there.” I challenge and he stills, quirking an eyebrow at me. “Two years. And a little longer if we’re talking a date with someone that matters.”

John half-smiles. “A year for me. Year and a half for anyone that mattered.” I hum, claiming my victory while his eyes sparkle with amusement just as the waiter comes by to take our drink orders. I take a small risk just to put him a little more at ease.

“An old-fashioned for him.” I order his favorite with a little smirk at the look he gives me.

He considers a moment while the waiter looks between us with a dubious expression. “Mojito to start, then white wine for dinner. Something sweet.” Price looks at me for approval and I nod, pressing my lips together to keep myself from grinning like a fool. The waiter takes this in and his bemused glance at us nearly makes me laugh as he walks away.

“Think we’re scaring the waiter.” My tone is light as my fingers glide over the silverware laid out on the table with the cloth napkin in my lap. At least I remembered a little about how to act in a place like this.

“He’ll recover.” John says without an ounce of concern and I try not to glow under his steady gaze. It feels surprisingly nice having all of his attention. I don’t mind being seen by him, never have.

My head tilts a little. “Do you enjoy scaring the general public?”

“Occasionally.” He leans forward a little and I copy him, unable to resist. “Although, I’m not the one who nearly knocked out some idiot in a bar.”

I smile at the memory. “He would have deserved it.”

Price nods without hesitation. “I almost regret not letting you. That happen often when you’re home?”

My head shakes as I fiddle with my glass of water, turning it in a slow circle. “I handle things a little differently here. My reaction there was due to being around a crowd of other military men who seem to always understand physical denials better than verbal. Something I’m sure you’re not unfamiliar with.” He sighs, but nods with reluctant acceptance. “I figured it was better to make my stance clear right away. At home, I’m a bit more lenient. More drinks thrown in people’s faces than fists.” The pads of my fingers tap against my glass as a thought occurs to me. “What’s your choice of deterrent?”

My question earns me a warm chuckle and brings the slightest of blushes to his cheeks. “Ah…most are chased off by a stern warning.” My smile widens a bit when he doesn’t deny being chased after. It’s not a surprise. In my clearly biased opinion, Price is a catch. Which makes it all the more puzzling that he’s on a date with me.

We order and conversation is easy as always. We veer away from the topic of work and speak more about our family life, what it was like for us growing up, and how we eventually decided to go into the military. It’s nice hearing him talk about himself for an extended period of time. I’m used to hearing him talk about plans, missions, and all with a firm tone with a goal in mind. Now, he’s relaxed and smiling and his tone is light. Even playful. I could listen to him talk all day.

“I don’t need dessert, John.” I insist, smiling ear to ear as he hands the dessert menu back to our waiter after already ordering me one. “I’m not going to eat it.”

“You’ll have at least one bite here, then eat it tomorrow.” He states and my head shakes while I swirl my wine around in my glass. It’s actually good. He chose well.

“Only if you have a bite too. You need more sugar in your life.” I say pointedly with laughter in my voice. His smile in return is warm and both of us have our elbows on the table as we lean towards each other.

“Good thing I have you then, sugar.” His eyes sparkle as my head ducks a moment, my face heating.

“Mm, good thing.” I return and fuck, he’s pretty when he smiles like that. All teasing and light and sweet. The dessert comes, the sweetest little thing they had on the menu, and we both take a bite as promised. I might have a few bites more before we finally walk out. The night is brisk and I pull my wrap tight around my shoulders, automatically leaning into Price’s warmth as I wrap my arm around his. He accepts me instantly and it’s easy to feel like a normal couple as we walk down the street towards his car.

“Should we think about what to tell the team or are we putting a pin in that for now?” I ask idly and Price sighs, the warm air from his lungs appearing as an amorphous shape in the cool air.

“As soon as we tell them, we’re going to hear about it for a while.”

“Weeks?”

“Months, if we’re lucky. Years, if we’re unlucky.”

I pull in a deep breath, shaking my head at the thought of the boys nagging us for so long. But it does make me happy to think about years spent with them and Price. “How about we talk about it over breakfast on Friday?” I suggest, my lips pressing together a moment as nerves swirl in my stomach. I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve asked a man out with varied success. But when I look back at Price, he just has a sweet smile on his face.

“Sounds good to me. Dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow, breakfast on Friday.” We reach the car and I raise a brow at him as he opens the passenger side door for me.

“Lunch tomorrow?” We hadn’t spoken about that yet.

He nods, a teasing glint in his eyes as he helps me up into the passenger seat. “Mmhmm. Sound good?” Good is a severe understatement, but I manage not to grin like an idiot while I nod.

“Sounds good.” I agree and that little glint grows brighter as he closes the door. I allow myself to lean my head back against the headrest as I smile as wide as I want, then compose myself as Price gets into the driver’s seat and takes me home. We both walk very slowly as we head up to my flat and I almost laugh at both of us acting like teenagers not wanting to say goodbye at the end of a date.

He sighs heavily as I unlock the door and I smirk at the sound. At least I don’t have to wonder if he had a good time. I push my door open and turn back around, leaning against the door frame. “Thank you for this.” My hands smooth down my dress as I look up at his handsome face and I’m glad he’s not wearing his usual hat pulled low over his face. I like that I get to see this side of him. “I had a really good time.”

“So did I. Thank you for letting me.” He says with a playful edge in his voice and I give him a look for the insinuation that I don’t often let anyone do anything for me. Despite it being absolutely true.

“And are you going to tell me where I’m letting you take me for lunch tomorrow?” I turn his words around on him and feel immense satisfaction as he smirks and leans against the doorframe opposite me.

“I’m going to show you a few of my favorite places around the city. It’ll be a bit more relaxed and we’ll be walking a bit, so comfortable shoes would be wise. I’ll come to pick you up at noon. Alright?” He tilts his head towards me slightly, waiting for me to agree, and I smile at his thoughtfulness as I nod.

“Alright.” I agree and we stall for another moment. We’ve reached a soft line tonight. Sure, he’s been in my apartment, ate my food, drank tea, slept in my guest room, but that was all while we were friends. He’s not getting invited inside after the first date. I cross my arms and he seems to realize the line a second afterward, smiling as he straightens and takes half a step away from my door.

“I…” He hesitates and my arms fall back to my sides as I wait for whatever he has to say. His pretty blue eyes are locked on mine with his lips parted and I raise a brow, silently telling him to go on. He takes a breath and turns his body back towards mine, but doesn’t move closer. “I’d like to kiss you, but I need you to tell me if that’s alright or not.” His voice is a touch lower and surprise trickles through me, then warmth.

I take a steadying breath before stepping towards him. “It’s okay. Just…slowly.” My eyes stay on his, my words frank and honest, just like we’ve always been with each other. He nods and leans down a bit, the only part of him touching me is a callused finger sliding under my chin to tilt my head for him. The barest touch sends electricity sparking through me.

I taste his breath first and the leftover sweetness from our last bite of dessert mixes with distinct, bitter scent of his cigars. It’s intoxicating and I hum ever so softly while my eyelids flutter. John murmurs my name before brushing his lips against mine for the first time. I stiffen out of instinct and he pulls back an inch before freezing, his eyes scanning my face. It takes a moment for me to relax and this time, I reach up and gingerly slide my hands through his beard as I get myself used to him. He sighs and I’m immediately comforted by the way he leans into my touch.

“Again.” I request, lightly scratching my dull nails over his beard without even thinking about it.

Price’s eyes widen for a moment, but he doesn’t hesitate to kiss me again. I focus on everything that makes Price, Price—the smell of his cigars, his trimmed beard, the way I can feel the tension in his hand as he tilts my chin up, doing everything he can not to touch me more because I haven’t asked for it yet, haven’t said it was okay. His lips are gentle against mine and the kiss is simple. Just a little pressure and the slightest taste of his breath once, twice, a third time before he pulls back and straightens.

Our hands fall away from one another and I rub my fingers together, still feeling the sensation of his beard under my fingertips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says in a low tone that I’ve never heard from him before and all I can do is nod. He smiles and I barely stop myself from reaching for him again as he walks down the hall and into the stairwell.

It’s only when I’m inside my apartment and leaning back against my locked door, fingers on my lips as they tingle, that I realize just how much trouble I’m in.

Taglist (I love all of you sm! <3 If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk!)

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova

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kuroowo · 10 months

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Post break-up HCs

- Gojo x Reader x Geto

Genre - Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Exes, No-Curses AU

Masterlist

The relationship was hurting you more than you could bear. It reached one too many dead ends and faced with your final straw, you decided to let go of their hands and leave them watching your back.

At first, Geto & Gojo didn’t and couldn’t accept it & were trying to reason with you at every chance they could get. No matter the time or place or event, if you were there, you would spot them and their mile long reasons why. Over time though, Gojo was the first to accept the reality of your relationship whereas Geto was a bit more stubborn in believing that this was just a very rough patch the three of you were going through.

However, after awhile, Gojo and Geto seemed fine. Outwardly, that is. To the rest of the world, it’s as if they’ve moved on relatively easy (for such a sweet looking and long standing relationship) and it was like you never really made that much of an impact on them. But to the keen eyed, it was terribly obvious how in love they still are and how they can’t seem to let go no matter how much time passes.

Note - I personally think in a world without curses and it’s looming threats, Geto & Gojo would be more open (in many senses/aspects). I’d also like to think that you complete them. IMO they’re both individuals with a strong sense of independence and freedom, but their communication could be better and sometimes they need to be grounded. I think you bring that to the table and it makes everything work so smoothly that the three of you can’t be anything but soulmates. At least, that’s what STSG believed. It’s what they still believe, even after you left them.

Gojo, who can’t let go because he associates much too many things with you and the memories of you.

Every little thing, whether useless or useful or in passing or significant or eye catching, it doesn’t matter — every single thing reminds him of you. A little trinket he spots during his travels, a cute dessert spot he could’ve dragged you to, places you would’ve loved to visit, Megumi’s pets you loved to pet and spoil, kikufuku, little doodles, coffee shops, certain accessories, anime shows and merchandises, & etc. etc. (Gojo still accidentally buys a number of things meant for you, and he doesn’t ever bother to return them)

It physically pains him to a stop the first few weeks because when he turns to his side, it’s not you and Geto anymore. It’s just Geto and the sorrows you left behind. (He accidentally texts you the first few weeks because he was still in a little bit of denial. He blamed it on habits, but even that he knew was blatant denial)

It didn’t help either that during the first month, he wouldn’t stop talking about you. Nearly every conversation, nearly every passing comment, Gojo would not miss the opportunity to relate it to you somehow. Nanami tapped out at day 6, Shoko tapped out at week 2.5 (surprisingly long, he thinks), and Haibara, sweet Haibara, still listens to him to this day. It’s not very often anymore. He’s learned some semblance of self-control (he thinks you’d be proud and also because his pride wouldn’t let him do it much anymore), but on days where he can’t seem to shake your hold on his heart, he goes to Haibara. (He can’t go to Geto because the first and last time it happened, they got into a fight and then tried to call you after. He couldn’t tell if the constant ringing haunts him or elates him, since that means you didn’t block him)

Note - I would like to think that Gojo in a No-Curses AU would be more open to talking about his feelings/being vulnerable/being open to his close confidants to some degree because well, the weight of the literal world doesn’t rest on his shoulders. He doesn’t exactly cry to them, he more so just… talks about you. Nanami could be drinking an Americano and Gojo would tell him that you liked yours in a certain way, as if he was telling him about the weather outside. As time passes, he talks less about you, but on days he can’t seem to shake off the heavy feelings, he’d talk about his memories of you & what he knew about you.

Geto, who can’t let go because he’s still in the belief that you’d turn around and come back to them, to him.

Geto can’t fully accept the reality of you leaving them, so his fractured heart feeds him with grand ideas of you knocking on their door, with tears in your eyes and flowers in your hand, begging for them to take you back. That you had a lapse in judgement and went through a period of craziness that convinced you that you didn’t need them. You’d apologise, sincerely and earnestly, and with open arms he would snark at you, but kiss you almost urgently in the same desperate breath.

He longs for such, more than he would ever be willing to admit. So he puts on a brave, nonchalant face. Smiling and chuckling, touched with a twinge of tension, and goes about his days being branded as someone you left.

An ex who still yearns for you deep down, and it manifests terribly in his dreams. (Sometimes, Suguru would wake up with tears staining his cheeks, but he’d refuse to acknowledge it)

An ex who used to tease you about the silly Sanrio plasters you used to buy for yourself, but now has a drawer full of them. One by one, he’d pay for them whenever it catches his eyes. One by one, stored in a space you used to occupy. Untouched and waiting to be used.

An ex who still keeps the knickknacks you gifted him. Handmade and one of kind, “Like you.”, you used to tell him. His heart still flutters. He keeps them packed and hidden in a compact box, sealed with memories tainted in quiet regrets and dried out anguish. His favourite will always be the two little clay dolls you made. One’s a snow white dragon with ugly bulging blue eyes in the shade of Gojo’s and the other’s a black matching pair with tiny purple irises in the shade of his. You promised him you’d make a version of yourself so the three of you could match like those lovesick couples you always made fun of, but you never got around to it. 3 weeks later you were gone, and a year later he’s still waiting.

Note - I think Geto would take it really hard in the lonesome comfort of his own presence. Keeping every single thought, tear, and hopes locked in his big, brittle heart.

It doesn’t do well on them that you share mutual friends either. It makes them want to be petty and hurtful, make you see what else you could lose, but when they catch your smiles and laughter in their peripherals, it simmers their bastard urges and quiets them down into pitiful longing.

It’s even worse when the kids ask about you because they didn’t know how to tell them that it was a lot of their fault why you left them.

Megumi, who loved you most out of all of the children, took it the hardest and it made Gojo & Geto hurt in different ways. But surprisingly, Megumi was also the fastest to bounce back once he realised that you breaking up with them doesn’t mean you’ll stop interacting with him too. “Don’t be silly, Megumi. You have my number and new address, just call or text or visit whenever. Nothing much is changing between us, y’know? Unless you wanna get rid of me?”, you can’t help but tease him when he pouts at you. Gojo & Geto couldn’t have been more jealous (and maybe even a little resentful) of Megumi.

Mimiko & Nanako had a mix of emotions. They were anxious, thinking maybe it was their fault somehow. They were young, they were angry, and they were hurting on behalf of their beloved dad(s). They were in denial, you had made so many promises with each other already. They were tearful. They miss seeing you everyday. They miss your head pats. They miss your praises. They miss your comfort. They miss you. (They tag along with Megumi when he goes to visit you. The ache in Geto’s heart twofolds each time.)

Tsumiki was the oldest one out of the 4 and has divorced parents and separated co-parents. She knew the protocols and how to still maintain your relationship with each other, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t felt sadden by your departure and change in relationship dynamics.

(STSG tried using the kids as a reason to make you stay too. Nanami gave them the good ol’stink eye for this)

Gojo & Geto are still together, but they don’t entertain the idea of a third anymore. (They won’t admit it, but no one could ever take your place. And truth be told, they’re still holding out hopes for you to come back to them)

#sad girl hours yall 😔💪🏼❤️‍🩹#gojo x geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x geto #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk #angst #jjk.fics #I want to believe that they they’ll always ‘zing’ when they see you #their souls miss yours 😞

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mrsoharaa · 9 days

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you didn't think too much into the simple graze of the newest spider-mans fingers gently brisking over yours as he takes his leave. the sweet, noble male that personally tended to you from your former strenuous, chaotic mission that led you to having a wounded leg. thus putting you right into the spider society's med bay.

you wave him off with a friendly smile, your eyes quickly sweeping over ever so attentively to the left to note Miguel's intent stare. pretty globes of soft cardinal leering behind the new, overly tending spider-man leaving the medical room you resided in. bearing directly into the back of the generous mans skull with such fueling rage and hatred.

his hardened glare sweeps back over to meet yours through the crystalline glass of the mirror into your medical room. thick brows that once tightened ever so firmly and searing wrath pooling into those glorious irises of pure ruby, immediately softening to your delicate gaze. a tinge of hurt and remorse instantly building up in the conflicted mans chest, immensely.

your heart flutters against your own, capturing the shorten, soften gaze of swarming distraught and longing clinging into those beautiful, intense eyes of his. your lush lips slowly part from each other, attempting to gather words to accumulate towards the man — but only failed, inescapably, when everything within you blared at you not to engage with him. not to engage with the very man that put you through with so much unbinding hurt and betrayal. the very same man that slowly, treacherously broke and tore you from piece by piece.

your pupils dilate, closing your agape lips promptly as your fingers crumble amongst the thin sheets of the medical beds bedding. you turn your head, shielding back the hot, thick tears swelling at the brims of your lashes. trying to not crumble before the very man that you inevitably fell in love with, during your previous time together (during your little "stress distressing" lascivious sessions).

the very same man that slowly, treacherously broke and tore you from piece by piece. promises of unfulfilled, unattainable pledges of comforting enlightenment and console, crumbling with the shattered fragments of your broken heart.

#idk what this is but i couldn't stop thinking about it for the past two hours lol #needed some angst to woo my crippled soul </3 #GOD i can vividly imagine the absolute pain and anguish on that poor mans face! (and yours obviously!) 😭💔#kinda hurt to write this one tbh lmao...but that was the point haha :''3 #sorryyyy!! i really love this idea/concept! I need to look more into it!!#YOU BOTH DON'T DESERVE THIS BUT I CAN'T HELP IT!! 😭❤️‍🩹#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv

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total-drama-brainrot · 1 month

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TD World Tour AU, where Noah doesn't tell Owen that Alejandro is an eel in London... In Area 51, Noah is accidentally splashed with an alien truth potion (which wears off after a few days) and he talks to Owen... Owen asks Noah what he truly thinks about Alejandro, and Truth-Potion Affected Noah says this: "I have mixed feelings for Alejandro. He's a brilliant, interesting guy and I like him, but I don't trust him. He's like a slippery eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. Basically, Heather with social skills. Wait a minute, why am I telling you this?!"... What if Alejandro secretly heard Noah call him all those conflicting things + Alejandro also learns that Noah is affected with an alien truth potion? 👽

Alright, you got me. I'm an absolute sucker for truth potion plots, especially when the character(s) effected by them are usually either pathological liars or incredibly secretive- of which Noah absolutely falls into the second category, given he shares so little personal information.

I'll gloss over why Noah declined to shit-talk Alejandro in London (though there's so many ways this change in behaviour could be justified) since the focal point of this hypothetical centred around their time in Nevada, so let's start from the beginning of the Area 51 challenge.

Area 51:

Before we start, it'll have to be established that no one was eliminated in London. Let's say that the majority vote went towards Duncan (team CIRRRRH voted him out immediately because they found his re-admission to the competition unfair, I guess. I imagine he'd also vote himself, if not as a plan to escape the competition he'd been actively skiving from, then just as an act of spite) but Chris instead claimed it was a rewards challenge- much like he does in Greece- because he doesn't want to let Duncan slip away again so soon.

I see no reason to alter the first part of the challenge- the sneaking into Area 51 portion- since team CIRRRRH's course of entry is fairly straightforward. Noah's presence doesn't make much of a difference to how it would play out; the majority of them throw their rocks and run, Owen gets lasered over the fence and Owen-napped, ect ect.

When both teams have managed to make their way into the Black Box Warehouse, Noah immediately suggests they should prioritise rescuing Owen. Tyler's quick to agree, since he's a firm believer in the "no man left behind" mentality (and he probably makes a not-so-subtle jab towards Noah for his chance of tune compared to London, where both he and Owen did leave Tyler behind) leaving Duncan and Alejandro to split from the group- Duncan in search of Gwen, and Alejandro just takes the opportunity to finally be free from his 'incompetent teammates' and prioritises finding an artifact.

Noah and Tyler come across the contraption Owen's trapped in, Tyler punches it in a futile effort to break it open, and the face hugger cube drops into Noah's hands. This is where the point of divergence comes into play; Tyler has his E.T. moment with one of the face huggers, but Noah- who's a tad bit more observant than Alejandro, and used to dodging surprise attacks from his various older siblings (and Izzy)- anticipates his own face hugger attack and promptly starts a game of cat-and-mouse with a taser alien hot on his heels.

The commotion of which attracts the rest of his team. Alejandro and Duncan arrive on the scene to see Tyler being electrocuted by an alien and Noah running in circles evading another.

Duncan attempts to rip the face hugger from Tyler's face, finding success at the cost of sending Tyler trampling into Owen's captive contraption (essentially taking Alejandro's canonical place in this scene) and inadvertently freeing Owen.

Meanwhile, Alejandro swipes up the nearest box he can find and snags the alien chasing Noah, who's still very loudly panicking as he flees, and succeeds! The alien is swiftly captured into the box, netting team CIRRRRH their artifact, and Noah promptly goes careening into the nearest tower of junk in his face hugger-fuelled hysteria. This causes another box to topple from the peak of the tower, landing directly on Noah's head and spilling its contents onto the bookworm- glass vials filled with a mysterious, luminescent cobalt blue liquid shatter into pieces drenching Noah in whatever they contained. (i.e. truth potion.)

Owen has his false-amnesia moment, characterised by his Joker makeover, and Alejandro enacts his revenge post-hypnotic suggestion after being addressed as "Al" one too many times.

Noah, understandably, swiftly objects to Owen's treatment and demands that Alejandro snap him out of it. Alejandro concedes, and Owen's brought back to himself. At least, for a moment, before the fatigue of having his mind messed with sends Owen into near-catatonia (the same as canon), meaning he has to be ferried through the Warehouse and back to the Jet by Alejandro and Duncan.

Things carry on canonically from there; Noah's just sort of there for the most part, though there'd be a minor hint to his newfound proclivity for honesty. Something along the lines of him giving an uncharacteristically honest answer to Owen as to who he's voting- Tyler, of course, since he was the one who ultimately threw the challenge for them... and also because Tyler still holds some resentment towards Noah for what happened in London, and Noah feels guilty about it every time he looks at the jock. Wait, why did he say that?

Sometime between this and the elimination scene, Noah wipes the truth-goop off of himself, but not before the effects have already started.

Tyler's voted out, yada yada yada.

The Jet:

Thus begins the start of "Picnic at Hanging Dork". Team CIRRRRH, consisting of just Alejandro, Duncan, Owen and Noah, are slumming it up in the Economy Cabin. Alejandro tries to rally his team by asking how to break apart Courtney and Heather's tentative co-operation. Owen suggests having Alejandro seduce Heather, since it worked for both Bridgette and Leshawna. Duncan makes his "Babe Olympics" comment. Noah pipes up that playing with someone's feelings is pretty scummy, even for someone competing for a million dollars.

Alejandro takes Noah's reluctance towards his methodology poorly; he hadn't spoken up before, when Alejandro had utilized the same strategy against other girls- and even Owen noticed that, so surely Noah did too- so why was he to outwardly against him using the same tricks? Duncan agrees, and offers ''his'' idea of having Alejandro flirt with Courtney to throw both her and Heather off their games (since Heather has an obvious crush on Alejandro), and things follow canon.

Then, the scene between Alejandro and Courtney happens. Noah scoffs at the display from the side lines, prompting Owen to ask him why he's so against Alejandro's plan.

"I mean, you never said anything before, when he flirted with Bridgette and Leshawna." Owen comments, light-hearted in nature but with an underlying questioning tone.

Noah's eyes flicker with a cobalt glow, easily mistaken for a trick of the light, and he speaks without even thinking.

"Yeah, because I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Bridgette was happenstance, and Leshawna's whole deal could've been a coincidence, or some massive misunderstanding. But this?" Noah extends an accusing hand out towards a smug looking Alejandro, then pans it over to a flattered Courtney, "He's outright toying with Courtney's feelings after she was cheated on in front of an international audience. It's scummy."

Owen nods in understanding, momentary contemplation evident in the pouted curve of his lips, and he chimes in.

"Does that mean you don't like Al?"

"I never said that."

"Well, how do you feel about him, then?"

Again, a flash of blue light against the hickory backdrop of Noah's eyes, and he responds thoughtlessly.

"I guess I have mixed feelings about him. On the one hand, he's slippery, like an eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. He's like if you took all of the worst aspects of Heather, wrapped them up in a pretty package, and gave them social skills..." He holds his hands out before him in a scale-like manner, with the left tipped downwards and tie right raised by his chin. Then, the two hands swap positions.

"And on the other hand, he's brilliant. I've never met anyone as talented as Alejandro; he's smart, he's athletic, he's funny. It's almost unfair just how perfect everything about him is- even his face is perfect. It's ridiculous! Infuriating, even. It's so hard to dislike him, even when I know he's bad news, but that doesn't mean I trust him."

Owen stands slack jawed beside his best friend, both impressed and stunned at the raw honesty of Noah's tirade. Noah, now a little more aware of himself, realises that he's said more than he intended to- more than he thinks he's ever spoken in one go throughout the entirety of Total Drama. He's not usually one for speeches, after all, let alone honest ones.

He's always been the type to play his cards close to his chest, so why...?

"I, uh, didn't mean to go off like that."

And he also didn't mean to admit it, either. What was going on?

The look Owen gives him is, in a word, vivid. The blonde has a shit-eating grin stretching across his face, a sort of elated smugness practically glowing from his features.

"Sounds like someone has a cruuuush!~"

What? No? No! Not at all, where would Owen even get that idea?!

Noah splutters to correct Owen's assumption (to disastrous results, because he does sort-of has a crush on Alejandro, so the truth potion doesn't allow him to outright deny it), and in his preoccupied state he misses how a calculating pair of sage green eyes never seems to stray from him.

Alejandro has a lot to think about in regards to a certain cynic, it seems.

#I'd like to apologise for taking this idea and running with it.#Cutting myself off here before I breach 2k+ words or else I'll be here all day.#Sort of entered actual Writing Mode at the end there instead of Outline Mode but this idea is. So Full Of Potential I couldn't help myself.#But from here it'd basically be Alejandro using his newfound knowledge of Noah's crush on him to his advantage.#Whilst Noah's doing his best (and failing) to deny that he has any feelings for Alejandro.#Eventually leading to the two of them having a Bonding Moment where Alejandro gets Noah to divulge some personal information.#And in turn- or an effort to garner some trust (to be abused later)- Alejandro also lets himself be vulnerable towards Noah.#Something something Alejandro tries to use Noah as a pawn but ends up catching feelings of his own.#Then of course the potion wears off and Noah goes back to being just as prickly and standoffish as he was before.#A point of conflict maybe? Imagine bearing your soul out to someone only for them to close themself off to you not even days afterwards.#...Also imagine being practically forced to divulge information about yourself to someone you don't trust because of a truth potion.#Oh yeah. That's some good angst material right there.#Especially is you have Alejandro be- if not fully aware- than at least suspect that Noah's not being agreeable on his own terms.#Anon why have you given me The Thoughts?? I can't keep brainstorming AUs when I already have fics to work on!!#ophe's ranting in the tags again #total drama #td noah #td alejandro #team chris is really really really really hot #alenoah #-ish #silly ideas #other's ideas #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)

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marivenah · 1 year

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ok because I'm a sucker for this and really curious. if one character of your ship was to die and the surviving character wanted revenge, which one of them would be scarier on their quest for revenge?

#the angst feelings are hitting me lately #don't really want to be part of other's conversations so turning off rb now #was fun tho #i hope this makes sense this is so difficult to explain esp since eng isn't my first language lmao #not to be a poll poster begging for reblogs but i'm curious 😩#x: to your deepest low #for them it'd definitely be maul. i mean the guy holds grudges for several decades so 🤡#shireen is naturally scary but not really the person to want revenge #she's more of a person who sucks at letting go but that's essentially it #x: your soul is golden #aroa on the other hand would go on a rampage. sunshine girl turns into a supernova or something etc etc #pretty sure cayde is a petty bastard but aroa is just scarier

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angeart · 4 months

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Elegy - chapter 3

Chapter 3. Feed me promises I

He goes, without much thought or determination, letting his feet lead him to the blackest of spots where his life used to be.

i wasn't going to post this until i'm done writing chapter 4, but things are hectic and this chapter is ready and it's been a while, so. screw it. you guys can have it :3

this chapter is twice as long as the previous one, oops. enjoy and come yell at me about it <3

Read on AO3

#ange writes #boatem circus au #to feed your soul #(with angst)

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amberizedcasey · 8 months

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oh don't worry about me i'm just thinking about how cellbit still loves and cares about people who sided with the federation or think that cucurucho is not that bad cause how could he blame them?

he did horrible things in the war, he went to jail, he killed people, he betraid people, he hurt people, he is always making things bad

he can't ask for that

he doesn't deserve that

and he is fine, he has friend, a family and a husband who love him, they truly do (well, that's what he tells himself but that's something for later)

so it's okay that even them don't side with him all the time

he is fine, he can keep working to the organization who hurt him and hurt the people he loves, he can keep finding more and more reasons to argue with other about how bad the federation is (how could they have done something like that to a child?), he can keep working on trying to get everyone of the island, even if himself doesn't really have place to go back

it's okay

he is fine

he can keep going, he can keep helping people

and maybe if he tries hard enough they will love understand him, and they will be on his side, and they won't have to go trough what he's gone trough

he is fine

in the end, it's all his fault anyway

#qsmp #cellbit #can you tell that i'm a cellbit apologist?#i do think that there is people who see the federation like they truly are but yk #i can still make it about how he feels backstabbed when something like this happens #just a little angst for your poor souls

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starcrossrf · 1 year

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Something soft for the soul ft.Chkn

…and whatever this is.

#*in a salesman voice* IS THE ANGST BOTHERING YOU?#THE ETERNAL SUFFERING AND COLLECTIVE MADNESS OF THIS COMMUNITY GROWS STALE AND BORING?!#FRET NOT!#Starcross is here to deliver some sweetness in these dark times.#Mind is the kind of guy who would shave you for fun in your sleep #I hope bald Heart haunts you <3 #chonny jash #cj heart #cj mind #startistic #cj soul #please let this be good and pray I won’t hate this eventually

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minty-mumbles · 9 months

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Marks on Your Body, Marks on Your Soul

Summary: Wind was part of the largest soulmate group that Outset Island had seen in nearly a century. There were eight people in his soulgroup. Nine, including him. Eight corresponding little marks were inked onto the skin of his forearm. Eight precious marks that symbolized that he was going to be so, so loved.

(Read on AO3 here) (There's also a bonus Warriors angst scene in the notes that I couldn't fit into the fic)

~~~

Wind was part of the largest soulmate group that Outset Island had seen in nearly a century. There were eight people in his soulgroup. Nine, including him. Eight corresponding little marks were inked onto the skin of his forearm. Eight precious marks that symbolized that he was going to be so, so loved.

In another rarity, not one of his eight soulmates lived on Outset Island. It was a small island, and while Wind hadn’t seen everyone’s soulmarks- some people liked to keep them private- they wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret. Everyone knew everyones’ business on Outset. If one of the island’s residents was one of Wind’s soulmates, the rumors of someone else with eight soulmarks would have spread to him when he was still a young child.

So, Wind was an anomaly, but he didn’t mind. Those eight little marks that symbolized his soulmates were something to be cherished, even if they made him an oddity.

His first soul mark, the one nearest to his hand, was some kind of red bird with its wings stretched wide in flight. Wind had never seen a bird like that before, and even his Granny didn’t recognize it. Wind thought it must mean that this soulmate was from some faraway island with animals and birds that no one on Outset Island had ever seen before.

The next seemed to be a coin of some sort. It was split into four sections, with each section a different color, green, blue, red, and purple. It looked nothing like the rupees Wind was familiar with, but maybe this soulmate was from a distant land too?

Below the coin was a simple blue ocarina. Wind wondered what it meant or symbolized, Perhaps they were a musician? Wind had always smiled at the thought. He always loved listening to music, even if he couldn’t play an instrument himself. Maybe his soulmate would teach him how to play!

Next was a profile of the dog's head, thrown back and mouth open as if caught in the moment of a triumphant howl. (Something had always rubbed him wrong, thinking about this mark as a dog. It looked like a dog, but something about that seemed off to Wind. This animal was no tame beast.)

The next mark was a small pink rabbit, sitting up on its hind legs. Wind’s Granny had cooed over this particular mark plenty of times when he was a child, remarking that whoever it belonged to must be a very kind individual. Wind wasn’t so sure about that, the rabbit might be cute, but the way it defiantly stared back at Wind made him think twice about calling this soulmate soft.

Below the rabbit was a picture of a fairy. It was green, which was an unusual color for a fairy, but other than that looked pretty standard. Maybe this soulmate was a healer?

Next was a silver sword, wrapped in a piece of blue fabric. It was the most cryptic mark of them all, revealing the least about the person it belonged to, other than the fact perhaps they were good at fighting. Wind wondered, often, what the blue fabric symbolized.

The last mark, which was nearly nestled into the crook of his elbow, was a bow with an arrow drawn and ready to fire. When Wind had been young, he’d thought the mark was laid over a background of red. When he’d grown up, though, he realized that it wasn't simply a background of red, it was blood, a large splatter of blood. That mark had always made his Granny nervous, but it had never bothered Wind.

He’d spent long hours staring at these marks in wonder as he grew up. Daydreams of what his soulmates would be like were constant. Every time a ship arrived at Outset with new people aboard, Wind would be there, trying to sneak a glimpse of their forearms. Even the trading ships that came biweekly would draw Wind down to the docks, just in case there was someone new aboard he hadn’t met before- someone who shared seven of the same marks with him.

Of course, if his marks were romantic none of the sailors would ever be his soulmates as they were much older than Wind. But with such a large soulgroup, odds were that his bonds were platonic, and there were no age restrictions for platonic soulmates.

~~~

With such a large group of soulmates, Wind couldn’t just refer to them as “his soulmates.” It quickly became cumbersome, when speaking about his soulmarks, to constantly have to clarify which one he meant. It didn’t take long for him to come up with nicknames.

It wasn’t a strange thing to do, especially for those who had more than one soulmark.

Feathers, for the red bird. Then Coin, Ocarina, and Doggy, which soon evolved into Dog as he grew older. Bunny, which quickly became Rabbit.

Flicker for the fairy, after that way fairies flitted around when they flew, and the way their light would flicker like a candle. And finally, Sword and Bow. Most of the nicknames were simplistic and not at all creative but Wind had been four when he’d made them, so he cut himself some slack.

~~~

When Wind is seven, Dog’s soulmark changes.

It’s an insane thing to say- soulmarks don’t change. The only change that a mark should ever undergo was fading away to gray when your soulmate died. Other than that, they were set in stone.

But it was undeniable. One day when he went to sleep, the mark was of a brown dog. When he woke up, the dog was gray, with new markings that hadn’t been there before. Startled by the change, he ran to show his Granny.

At first, she’d been horrified to hear her grandchild shouting about a changed soumark and see unexpected gray on his arm. But it soon became apparent that the mark had not faded to death-gray. The eyes of the animal were still a brilliant blue.

His Granny had scrubbed at his forearm in a basin of water so hard his arm had turned red. When she finally admitted that the mark truly had changed, and Wind hadn’t simply managed to color it somehow, she had insisted he not tell anyone of this development, not even his little sister.

Frightened by her intensity, Wind had agreed.

Granny inspected his marks daily after that. It took months for her to be satisfied they would stay the way they were.

~~~

A year later, Wind noticed that Flicker’s mark had changed as well. Previously, it had been a simple fairy. Now, the yellow symbol of the triforce glimmered faintly from the center of the fairy’s glow. It was barely noticeable unless you squinted.

Wind, remembering how Granny had fretted and stressed over Dog’s soulmark, kept his mouth shut. The yellow of the triforce was so subtle that no one who wasn’t closely inspecting it would notice it, so he was able to keep this new change secret, even from his grandmother.

~~~

The night before Wind turned twelve, he lay awake shivering in bed. It wasn’t a cold night- quite the opposite, in fact.

But something felt… wrong.

It felt like someone was watching him. He’d checked and it wasn’t Arryl, who was deeply asleep. Granny was sleeping in the other room, so it wasn’t her. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

With nothing to justify the dread he was feeling, Wind lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. He drew his blanket over his head like he was five again and hiding from monsters. The feeling of dread persisted, not allowing him to slip into the comfort of sleep.

As his mind often did in quiet, solitary moments like these, it turned toward the topic of his soulmarks. Since the changes in two of his marks nearly six years ago, he’d grown to understand just how strange the fact that his marks had changed was.

Wind had never heard of anyone’s marks changing. When he was eight, he’d gotten it in his mind to run around Outset Island and ask everyone he could find if they’d ever heard stories about soulmarks changing. The answers were always a resounding no.

When Granny had eventually heard what he’d been doing, she'd given him a stern reprimand. He understood now why she was so strict about not telling people that his marks had changed. People weren’t kind to those they saw as different or strange. It was probably a very fortunate thing no one had ever noticed the change in his marks.

Wind didn’t know what people would do if they noticed, but he couldn’t imagine it would be pretty.

Wind worried about his marks often. He worried about what might happen if someone noticed that two of them had changed. (Unlikely after all this time, but all it would take was one person who had been there when Wind was born and had inspected his marks asking why the dog wasn’t brown like they remembered.)

He worried about what it meant that Dog and Flicker’s marks had changed. Was it possible that they would change again in the future? Would his other marks change? Was it possible that the marks had changed because the gods had messed up his marks, and maybe he wasn’t meant to be with these soulmates after all?

Wind had nightmares, sometimes. That one day he would wake up and his marks would be gone. That he would meet his soulmates, and they wouldn't have any mark representing him on their forearms.

He tried his best to ignore those dreams.

When midnight had long since come and gone and the feeling of dread and anticipation still haunted him, Wind thought it might be a good idea to clear his head. The night air might help. Maybe he should head to the lookout, he thought. He would be able to watch the stars easier from there, and no one would bother him if he ended up falling asleep.

~~~

Wind turned twelve, and everything went horribly, utterly wrong.

After Arryl had been taken and he’d set out on his quest to save her, Wind hadn’t bothered to look at his soulmarks much. He didn’t forget they were there! No one could forget their soulmates.

It was just… they’d become less important in the face of the possibility of losing his sister. She was out there, possibly in danger, possibly dead, and Wind was pretty sure his soulmarks weren’t going to go away anytime soon. He hadn’t even met any of them yet. He couldn’t afford to spend his time thinking about them when he didn’t even know what they looked like.

Then he’d gone to Fire Mountain to get the power bracelets.

Even with the aid of the ice arrows that kept the volcano from erupting, the heat was nearly unbearable. It felt like if he stayed on the island for too long, the very air itself would burn his skin.

That didn’t happen, thankfully. But what did happen was almost worse.

Fighting off the fire bats so he could reach the power bracelets had been the most annoying part of the island. There were several of them, coming one right after another, but they weren’t that strong. He’d been careless, more focused on avoiding plunging himself into lava than the swooping bats overhead.

His carelessness had earned him a few burns. He hadn’t thought much about the burns at the time besides pushing away the pain. Getting the power bracelets and getting out before the ice arrows wore off was more important than fussing over some small injuries.

Later, when his adrenaline had faded and he was safe enough to look over his injuries, he realized where exactly the burns were, and Wind had never felt more horrified and sick to his stomach in his life. The burn wrapped around the back of Wind’s left arm. One edge of the burned skin stopped less than a quarter of an inch away from Rabbit’s mark.

Wind ended up using the only fairy he had to heal the burns. It was a waste of resources, probably, but Wind couldn't help it. He hadn’t wanted to heal it naturally and risk infection or something similar worsening the injury. He couldn’t live with the possibility of it leaving a scar. He couldn’t risk it. Not so close to one of his marks.

What would happen if the burn had been placed just a few inches to the right? It could have ruined Rabbit’s mark. It wouldn’t have affected his bond with his soulmate.

He’d heard stories about people whose marks got burned off or scarred over before- it wasn’t something that was unheard of. In many of the stories, the injured party still managed to find their soulmate in the end, but it was more difficult to do so when you didn’t have a mark for your soulmate to identify with. It left the burden of finding your soulmate entirely on you, saddling you with the responsibility of recognizing the mark that represented you.

It also left you with no way to tell if your soulmate had died.

After that, Wind started to pay more attention while he fought. He was more careful with guarding his left arm, and he inspected his marks more often. Just as reassurance. Just to remind him that even if everything went wrong, somewhere out in the world there were eight people waiting for him.

~~~

It was this new caution that led him to discover an interesting quirk of Coin’s soulmark. Wind was sure this was a recent development, as he would have noticed this when he was a kid and still enamored with his soulmarks.

Wind had never heard of anything like this happening, but… his fourth soulmark changed, sometimes. He was sure of it- had even seen it happen once. The difference was so small that no one besides himself would ever notice, and he kept his mouth shut about it.

He knew two of his other marks had changed when he was little, but for the most part, Wind was able to delude himself. Perhaps he had misremembered the color of the dog or had simply never noticed the triforce hidden in the green fairy until he was eight. Perhaps those marks hadn’t changed at all.

But this…

He couldn’t lie to himself about this.

He didn’t know what it meant, but every so often, the four sections of the coin would separate, showing the smallest sliver of his skin between the marks, clearly showing that there were four separate soulmarks instead of the usual one.

He didn’t know what it meant, but the mark always fused back together eventually, so Wind hoped everything would be fine. It was just one more thing to ask his soulmates about when he finally found them.

In his mind, Wind started thinking that having eleven soulmates instead of eight would be pretty cool, if a little overwhelming, but he kept that thought to himself.

(If he started having nightmares about his faceless soulmate getting ripped limb from limb until they were torn into four pieces and left in a bloody pile, then he kept that to himself, too)

~~~

When Wind discovered that Bow’s mark had gone gray, it was the worst hours of his life.

He’d checked his marks over carefully in the morning- noting that the second mark was once again split into four- and had been satisfied with them. They were all as they should be. They had been free of blemishes, with colors just as vibrant as they had been the night before.

Later that morning, Wind was working on tying up the sail on his little boat. The storm clouds on the horizon didn't look promising, and he needed to get the rigging all tied down before the storm hit. As he gave one last tug on the rope, he happened to catch a glimpse of his forearm, and the sight of gray near his elbow startled him completely out of his concentration.

Dropping the rope he’d been using to secure the sails, Wind grasped at his arm. His eyes hadn’t been deceiving him- his last mark was no longer bright and colorful. The bright red of the blood and the brown of the bow had been leached away, leaving the mark a sickly gray.

Breath caught in his throat and he staggered, a soft keen escaped him without permission.

He’d heard of this happening before- marks fading to death-gray before a person had even met their soulmate. It was always a sad tale when someone was killed before their time, and left behind grieving partners who didn’t even have a name or face to go with the gray mark.

And now Wind would be one of those people, forever left wondering about that last mark. It would stay with him for the rest of his life, a horrible reminder of the pain his soulmate no doubt suffered before their untimely death.

Wind didn’t know how long the mark had been gray by the time he noticed. How long had one of his soulmates been gone from this world, while he had remained blissfully unaware?

His heart sank into his stomach as he slowly sank to his knees. He felt more alone than he ever has, alone on his boat. His sister was gone, his Granny unconsolable to the point of being nearly unresponsive, he hadn't met any of his soulmates, and one of them was dead.

Wind sat alone in the bottom of his boat, the rain beating against his form. The waves were tall. Wind could faintly feel them tossing the boat around, but couldn’t muster up the energy to care.

Let the waves take him. What was the point? One of his soulmates was gone! Before Wind had even gotten the chance to meet them, they were gone.

In the dim light of the storm, everything looked gray, so it took a while to realize that the bow mark was changing again. The realization came to Wind slowly as he stared at his arm blankly but when it did, Wind whined, squeezing his eyes shut.

Why couldn't the gods just let him be? Why did his marks keep changing? Were his soulmates with monsters? Shifting abominable creatures that couldn't stay consistent even after they died? Were the gods refusing to let his soulmate rest even after they died?

Why why why?

It took even longer for Wind to gain the courage to open his eyes and look at the marks again. When he did, it registered that the mark wasn’t simply changing. It was regaining its color.

The relief that slammed into Wind was what finally broke the dam in his mind. The numbness that had crashed over him when he realized that one of his marks had faded finally broke, and Wind cried. He cried from the relief, the pain, the worry, panic, and grief he’d felt.

Wind wondered if any of his other soulmates had noticed that the Bow had gone gray. Had Rabbit cried? Did Feather drop whatever they were doing to find a private place to grieve? Had Blue screamed when they saw?

By the time Wind had uncurled and started taking in the outside world again, the storm had long since passed. The King of Red Lions was able to guide the boat through the treacherous waves safely, but without Wind’s help, they’d been blown miles off course. Wind didn’t even care.

His soulmate was safe- safe, safe, safe, they were safe, he had the mark to prove it- and alive. That was all Wind needed to know.

Most of the rest of the day was spent clutching at his forearm and staring at the last mark in alternating horror and relief. Slowly, the horror abated, leaving a sharp flash of indignant anger in its wake.

How dare one of Wind’s soulmates nearly die before meeting him? That was totally unfair of them. Wind was so going to punch them in the arm when they met as payback for scaring him so much.

~~~

For once, Wind hadn’t heard of the arrival of a new ship before it made landfall on Outset Island. He was notified by a kid running up to Granny’s house in the morning, yelling something and banging excitedly on the door.

Wind was the one to open the door, looking down at the kid in confusion. He’d seen him before, running around the island, but couldn’t for the life of him remember the kid’s name.

As far as Wind knew, they weren’t expecting any visitors. It was late afternoon, early enough to assume everyone would be awake, but still too early to be calling on your neighbors without giving warning. Scenarios of pirates (the unhonorable kind) attacking the island, or someone getting hurt or even dying flooded Wind’s mind. Anything that would make someone come calling this early.

At the unasked question in Wind’s eyes, the kid, who was nearly shaking in excitement nearly yelled that there was a strange group of people on the island, and that they were looking for him.

When the kid finally got around to saying the group consisted of eight people, a shock of anxiety shot through Wind. Was it possible? After all this time?

Wind was still only fourteen and all told, that was a young age to meet all your soulmates, but Wind felt so much older. He’d been through so much, sometimes he felt ancient. And he’d done it all without the aid of his soulmates.

It would be strange to finally meet them now, if these strangers truly were his soulmates.

The kid was still looking at him expectantly, eyes wide in excitement. Everyone on Outset knew about Wind’s soulmates. Even if they hadn’t gotten a good look at Wind’s soulmarks, they knew. Having a group of soulmarks that big was going to make you a constant source of gossip.

The gossip could have spread beyond Outset, and if there was a soulgroup of eight looking for their ninth soulmate, those rumors might have been enough to bring them here.

Wind did his best to keep a straight face, even as he was screaming inside. It probably didn’t work. Granny had always said he had a horrible poker face, and she was right. There was no way that he could hide the shock, hope, and excitement that crossed his face.

Wind quickly thanked the kid and slammed the door shut, but not before the kid ran off, no doubt to spread the gossip to everyone else on the island. Shoving the thought out of his mind, Wind ran to put on some acceptable clothes. There was no way he was meeting people who might be his soulmates while he was still in his pajamas.

He tore through the house to his and Arryl’s room, earring a shocked exclamation from Granny, who was sitting in the main room working on her knitting. Wind ignored her questions about who was at the door.

Arryl- who was still asleep after staying up too late last night- murmured sleepily as Wind slammed the door open, but was quickly soothed back to sleep by his assurances. It took Wind longer than it usually did for him to choose what to wear that day. He had to look nice if he was going to meet his soulmates.

By the time he ran back out of the room, his Granny no longer looked confused. No doubt more of their neighbors had stopped by to inform her of the news. The people on Outset might be gossipers, but Wind also silently thanked them. Outset wasn’t a very large island, and it shouldn’t have taken this long for the group to find him if they were really looking. Someone probably decided to take pity on him and send them in the wrong direction to give him a bit more time to prepare.

Of course, this was all assuming that they truly were his soulmates. There was a possibility that it was a complete coincidence that eight strangers no one on the island had ever seen before were looking for him specifically.

Yeah, even in his head, that sounded unlikely.

Even with helpful neighbors and getting dressed quickly as he could, when he stepped outside, a group of strangers was already coming up the path.

They stopped a good bit away from Granny’s house huddling together. Wind could feel their eyes on him, and his face was betraying his hope and excitement.

Though the group obviously saw him, they clustered a little ways away, talking about something. Wind winced, his expression falling ever so slightly. Did they not want him now that they’d seen him?

Each one of the strangers was obviously older than him- if these were his soulmates, he would be the youngest person in the group. Even the smallest of the group, someone in a colorful tunic who was shorter than Wind, looked to be older than he was. Were they disappointed their last soulmate was young?

On top of that, every member of the group was heavily armed, even if it wasn’t obvious. Most of them had a sword strapped to their back and several other weapons besides that. The magic that Wind could sense from them even at this distance told him they had more than enough hidden defenses as well.

Even the one in a blue tunic- who carried no sword- was armed with a bow and quiver. More excitement filled Wind as he realized that the bowman was heavily scarred. The kind of scars that come from injuries that might kill you. (And then there was guilt that he felt excited that someone had suffered.)

Breath stuttered in Wind’s chest, and he was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. Still, he didn't approach. He would let them do that. Because what if Wind was wrong, and these weren’t his soulmates after all? Arryl would never let him live it down if he ran up to a bunch of people just assuming they were his soulmates. That would just be embarrassing.

After a few more moments of Wind barely being able to contain himself, one of the strangers peeled away from the group. The others mingled together, talking but still obviously keeping an eye on Wind.

The man who approached was wearing armor- a pauldron and chainmail. Wind wondered about that for a split second. Even people who were going to be fighting often opted for padded cloth or leather armor, not heavy plate or chain that could cause you to sink like a rock if you were knocked into the water.

The thing that really caught Wind’s attention, though, was the blue scarf that was wrapped around the man’s neck.

A blue scarf, or in other words, a blue scrap of fabric.

Sword.

Wind’s hand drifted up instinctively to rub at his marks, feeling a bright grin break outacross his face. The sleeve of his undertunic was in the way, but that man seemed to catch the motion anyways.

In seconds, the man who was almost certainly one of Wind’s soulmates stood in front of him. His smile was confident as he held out a hand expectantly to Wind. Despite his confidence, Wind could feel his hesitance.

There was an unspoken understanding between them now. They both thought that they were each other's soulmate, and that the rest of the group behind the man was the rest of Wind’s soulgroup. But there was only one way to know, and although there wasn’t anything wrong with not covering your soulmarks, asking flat out to see them if you weren’t someone's soulmate was a very violating question.

Wind hesitantly held out his arm, using his other arm to push up his sleeve.

The man instantly relaxed at the sight, the tenseness in his shoulders melting away. Joy and relief spread across his features as Wind watched the man’s eyes (as Wind watched his soulmate’s eyes!) trail down the line of soulmarks until he reached Sword’s mark.

Until he reached his mark.

Wind watched a shiver go up the man’s spine. Wind had heard countless tales of what it was like to see the soulmark that represented you for the first time, and now he was witnessing it in real life.

The stranger-who-wasn't-a-stranger smiled at him, warm affection filling his eyes. Then he spoke for the first time, the words tender. “There you are, little seagull. We’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

#mint's fanfiction #marks on your soul au #linked universe #lu wind #lu warriors #soulmate au #lu fanfiction #angst

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