digibear drabble

Mikasa: …Wait… What.
Eren: You weren’t there at the shoot? Levi’s last name is Ackerman, too.
Mikasa: This is…
Eren: I know, it’s stupid. The directors never even bothered to tell us-
Mikasa: -amazing. Oh my GOD. (bursts into laughter)
Eren: …Are you serious?
Mikasa: (wheezing) I can’t breathe!
Eren: Mikasa, what the hell is wrong with you-
Mikasa: -wheeeew well this is awkward. So great. But so awkward. (soundless laughing) I bet he’s so red right now.
Eren: …You guys totally did it, didn’t you.
Mikasa: Last night after shooting. It just sort of, I don’t know, happened. But freaking hell, if that’s not irony I don’t know what is.
Eren: (in absolute shock) Oh my God.
Mikasa: The fans are gonna lose their shit, though. Hopefully we’re not actually related. Levi’s gonna die of a heart attack.
Eren: That fragile, huh.
Mikasa: Like you wouldn’t believe.

Digibear Drabble: Like Us

RivamikaWeek, Day 1: Iridescence - Like the colorful effect of the inside of a seashell
Word Count: 1844 (short; reason for no Read More is because you can’t read at all on my blog grr) 

Like Us
a rivamikaweek fanfic by a rivamika fangirl
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“That’s… a shit ton of water.”

“…That’s one way to describe it.”

Mikasa watched in minute fascination as the liquid expanse seemed to stretch towards their feet. All around them, clear water as far as the eye could see clashed with the white sand under their feet. For a moment, she feared that the mass of blue would take her, swallowing her whole and filling her lungs. But it couldn’t—not when they got this far. Not when they finally reached the end. Mikasa hesitated on instinct, one foot inching back in the sand.

A hand grasped her shoulder, stopping her. “Don’t,” Levi ordered just as the water tickled their feet. Swirling around their ankles, the freezing water sent chills to their spines and splashed little droplets onto their bare shins.

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Imperfection

Prompt: Levi has a lot of time to his thoughts as Mikasa mourns yet another loss. (1300 words, R)

Imperfection
a rivamika short 

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She was porcelain with imperfections.

Standing there, still as glass but never as clear, a statue bearing the pouring rain.

Water from the sky seeped into the cloth over his shoulder as he leaned against a solemn oak, the itch from wet clothing starting to attack his nerves. He didn’t move, despite it all. Something else held his attention.

Was it her black hair bending outward where it wasn’t stuffed in her scarf? Or was it the way her legs had refused to move from that same spot since before the clouds burst with silver?  

He didn’t know, but she had never stayed to grieve this long. Usually it lasted half the time, with more weight shifting from leg to leg. And then she would turn towards him. And then he would nod. And then they would take the long walk back to his room.

But this time was different. It was almost if she wanted him to go on without her, away from the icy rain and muddy graves and into the torchlit hallways of Headquarters where everyone was still alive for the time being. She had been there for so long that her uniform was darkened with that rainwater shade. He was sure her skin was already slick all over underneath the constricted cloth—uncomfortable, jaded. A part of him thought to go alone, to leave her to her thoughts and damaged pride. Another piece of him wanted to strip her bare and hold her until the shivers left her tired bones.  

But there he stood, damper by the second and trying hard to ignore the mud creeping up his boots.

Whether it was the urge to get out from under the tree and into the heavier rain to wash his shoes down, or the reflex to get her inside before she caught a cold, the captain started towards the newly appointed captain of two weeks. His feet sloshed along the ground until he stood a safe distance behind her, and he waited. He never spoke first, after all.

And he didn’t have to this time either. “Go back without me,” she said, her voice a layer of steel underneath that porcelain skin. He always reveled in its metallic sound.

“No reason to,” he responded soundly, shaking off thoughts of how that voice would sound in other places when they were alone. How inappropriate.

“Go.”

“No.” 

Silence.

“They were so young.”

He exhaled through his nose, not wanting to respond. Everyone was too young for this shit. There was no designated age appropriate for this kind of work, since everyone died one or two years into it anyways. It wasn’t like the older ones garnered enough experience to survive longer. You either got killed or you didn’t. You either got lucky or you didn’t.

Everyone still alive was living on borrowed time.

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“So you love him, huh?”
“…yeah.”
“Hm… I guess it was pretty obvious from the start.”
“Really?”
“It wasn’t hard to tell.”
“I see… And you’re okay with this?”
“If he ever hurts you I’m beating his ass. Not if you get to him first.”
A smile.
“…I wonder what your babies would look like. If they come out short and buff I might die.”
“EREN!”

Digibear Drabble #4: He Came with the Rain, Pt. I

Based on this prompt by levheichou. Finally got around to it, Donni! 

He Came with the Rain, Pt. I
a rivamika fanfic by a rivamika fangirl 
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Sometimes I doubt the path I chose. 

“Mom, what’s going on–”

“Just stay in here, Mikasa." 

"Wait, where will you–”

“Here, love. Take this. It will protect you.”

Sometimes my dreams feel all on hold. 

“But who will protect you–?" 

”–I’ll be fine, honey. We love you.“  

"What? Wait! Mom!" 

The cupboard door clipped off her cry, muting her panicked voice.

Today didn’t start off like this at all. Just two hours earlier, her mom was carving a symbol into her wrist, talking about something to do with their "clan” and how they needed to “preserve” it.

The only thing Mikasa was preserving at that moment was the urge to cry. It hurt when her mom dug the knife into her skin, puncturing her porcelain layer and releasing some of her blood.

As if to relieve the pain, Mikasa’s mom started to hum a tune. It was a haunting lullaby, but it calmed the little girl down nonetheless. The notes seemed to flutter from her mom’s mouth and settle themselves onto the wounds in her arm. They patted themselves into her skin, and Mikasa gave her mom a look of confusion. The older woman just smiled back without showing teeth.

Her dad was just in the kitchen, drying off the clean dishes with a towel. The cloth got wetter with each dish, and soon he was just rubbing the water around the dishes instead of getting rid of it. His wife scolded him for not paying attention while Mikasa laughed at his predicament.

It had been a calm and lazy afternoon.

Until the thieves started banging on the door.

In a flash, Mikasa’s father ushered them to the hidden side of the kitchen from the doorway before grabbing his weapon from a cupboard. While he went to see to the thugs, Mikasa’s mom opened the closest cupboard next to her and forced her daughter inside. As a last warning, she gave the little girl a knife. A knife to guard her life with. She thought it was the only thing she could do to save her daughter.

So Mikasa was alone, slowly being tortured. From inside, she heard muffled shouts, footsteps, gunfire. A high pitched scream shout through the wood. Frantically, the little girl curled up and shoved her hands over her ears.  The knife she had been holding dropped to her side with a dull thud. Shutting her eyes, Mikasa prayed it wasn’t her mom she just heard. 

Deep voices barked all around her while broken glass shattered next to her cupboard. More gunshots. More screaming.

Suddenly, it sounded like Mikasa’s head exploded. She screamed and her whole body violently twitched. For a moment, she felt paralyzed. She couldn’t remove the hands from her ears. Forcing them away from her head, Mikasa peeked one of her eyes open.

Her eyes magnified when she saw the hole in the cupboard door. A bullet had struck through her hiding place, fired into the dark. From the looks of it, it barely skimmer her ear. Sounds were warped now. She couldn’t hear anything but a single high pitched ringing.

But soon, the sounds came back in a crescendo. It sounded like she was surrounded by noises, noises with hands that were grabbing her and choking her to death. She couldn’t breathe. She was hyperventilating. Everything was going even darker than her empty cupboard.  

Then everything was silent.

Only the sound of her own breathing reached her ears. the cupboard space felt humid and cramped now, and sweat gripped her white dress to her skin. What was going on out there? Slowly putting her eye up to the hole the bullet made, Mikasa scanned the house. 

And immediately, she regretted it. 

Right in front of her, both her mom and her dad were kneeling before three men.

Both of them were at gunpoint. 

Mikasa’s hand shot up to her mouth to cover it. It was like her whole life flashed before her eyes, each moment of her with her parents documented in fragments. That wasn’t happening right now. Right? She was at home and her mom was carving a clan symbol into her hand. She was at home and her dad was cleaning the dishes and doing a horrible job at it. He was being scolded by her mother. Pieces of conversations blended together and the carving in her wrist stained her chin. Everything was fine. Everything was normal. “Mom,” she whispered, “Dad, please–!”

Shots fired.

Bodies fell. 

Blood spilled onto the floor. 

At that moment, everything looked to be moving in slow motion. Mikasa felt as if she got shot right in the heart. A third bullet never seen. Reach for the knife. Grab the knife. They’re coming for you, too. 

I don’t care.

She was reaching for the knife before she realized it wasn’t needed anymore. The thugs already walked out of the door, carrying what looked to be a bag full of her family’s valuables.

Valuables. What a funny word.

They didn’t take any valuables out of her house. Everything valuable in that house was dead.

She couldn’t stop shaking, and when Mikasa thought the men were out of range she burst out of the cupboard. She tripped on her dress once she was out, but her eyes stayed on her parents’ still forms. The wound on her hand reopened when she tripped, but she never felt it all at. There was no one to sing to her anymore. It was never going to close the same way again. Mikasa’s breathing was uneven and her eyes were wide as saucers.

“Mom… Dad…” When she got to them in the middle of the room, Mikasa didn’t know what to do. It felt as if the whole house was freezing. Soft patters on the roof reached Mikasa’s ears, and she realized it was raining. Funny. It was raining inside the house, too. Right? Everything was blurry from her eyes and swimming in her vision.

“I’ll be fine, honey. We love you." 

Shaking, Mikasa fell to her knees and her quivering hands reached out above their bodies. Blood seeped into her white dress as tears leaked from her eyes.

"I…” Nothing seemed to make sense. The whole situation felt ethereal, as if she was experiencing something from out of her body. She just wasn’t there.

But, as soon as her hand made contact with her mom’s shoulder, Mikasa lost it. Everything was real. This was real. Her parents weren’t there anymore. She was left behind. And she didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

“I love you, too,” the little girl choked out before covering her face with her hands. Powerful sobs racked her body as she knelt in their crimson. Her head hit the ground as she leaned forward, and her hair was quick to soak up the blood. The sound of rain couldn’t cover up her cries as she knelt between her parents’ bodies. Thunder roared from above, squeezing her chest.

She didn’t know what to do. She was only 9. Everything she knew was taken away from her. She was only 9. 

The only thing she had left was the knife her mother gave her.

And she was going to hold on to it.

There’s no doubt that this will make me strong. 

Picking her head up after what seemed like an eternity, Mikasa turned her head back to the cupboard. Her dull eyes were shrouded in crimson fury, the red blood seeping down her face and dripping off her chin. The white dress she wore was almost soaked through with shades of violet and ruby–a mirror to her innocence.

The white rose was stained with red.  

Because it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
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Had to edit it after I reread it. But now it’s even more angsty… Enjoy? Haha. 

Part II should be up soon!