a/n: so. i decided to compile a bunch of my one-shots/mini fics/writings and post them all together. bc why not?

you can find me on my tumblr: windthorne, where most of these have been posted and what not.

okay, intro done. i hope you enjoy!


dance with me

rated: k+

summary: It's their last moments together, and all she wants to do is dance.


Mikasa would never admit it, but she had always loved to dance.

She danced when her parents were still alive, and she still had the glow of a young child (and not the hardened features that come from a bloody war).

Her father used to hold her high and guide her around the room, twirling her around, making her dress swirl like a princess dress would. Her mother would sing songs from her family, traditional lyrics of an old world, as they moved across their small house.

Mikasa never smiled as much as she did when they danced.

She hasn't danced since she lost them, all those years ago.

And now, sitting here with her arms hugging her bent legs, and her neck feeling hot from the crimson scarf wrapped around it, there is nothing she desires more than to fall into those same familiar steps her father had taught her.

Just like this Mika… yes, you've got it! You are such a good dancer…

I'm finally going to see you again, papa… my time is coming now…

To her side sits a boy—no, a man—his face buried in his hands as he tries not to weep in front of her. She has never seen Jean cry, at least not in plain sight. But here in the middle of the forest (with the big ass trees Levi had called them), she has witnessed a lot. Jean crying was now one of them.

She was too broken to cry. She didn't think there were any more tears left inside her. They all leaked out a long time ago…

Her heart lurches at their situation—his gas has ran out from using it all up too soon, too quick. Her gear was broken from being smashed on the tree from a faulty move. His swords have all been dulled and hers have been used up, bloodied and cut apart. They've been fighting for hours in this forest, blood splayed across their bodies, from them or from their comrades they had no clue.

It was just them now. Mikasa has no idea where the rest of the Legion was. They probably left without them. Both of them were too far separated from the rest of the group to get back to them in time.

And now they're here, fully prepared to die because there is no hope of them coming back.

Mikasa has never given up. And she knows well that Jean hasn't, either.

But something about this moment just makes it seem like this is their last battle.

And so they sit here, awaiting their deaths as the clock ticks. She feels foolish for not moving, for letting death come to her, for giving up.

But she's so tired. She's so tired and exhausted.

And she wants to see them again—papa and momma, she just wants to see them—

"Mikasa," Jean says softly, taking her out of her thoughts. "We need to move, Mikasa."

How could they move anywhere? Running wouldn't save them, nothing can save them now—

"We need to at least find our horses if we have a chance…" He murmurs quietly, standing up to take the scenery around him.

Mikasa notices the way he's gathered himself together, from the boy weeping in his arms just a moment ago to the man that was now trying to save them both. He's grown considerably in the time she's known him, and she admires how he's trying again, when she isn't.

There's nothing to do, she thinks. There's nothing we can do to save ourselves.

"Mikasa," He looks at her now, stares into her lifeless eyes. "Mikasa, say something. Please."

She doesn't, instead standing up to assure him that she's not dead yet.

I just want to dance again.

"Will you dance with me?" She asks him suddenly, quiet words falling from her mouth in the midst of the footfalls that are heard from a distance.

Footsteps. This is it.

Jean is panicking, she notices. "W-What?" he asks.

"Dance with me." She orders, voice cracking. She is breaking, and she just wants to see them again—

Jean doesn't understand what's gotten into her, but she is offering him this, and nothing else. She's given up, and this is all she wants.

His tight shoulders relax, his amber eyes visibly losing color. He's given up, too, his strength draining by the minute at the thought of escaping this fate that has always been chasing after him.

And he's just as tired as she is.

"Okay," he answers.

He takes her in his arms, a slow caress on her waist as she wraps her arms around his neck and breathes in his scent. It's not a good smell—musk and blood and dirt mixed into two—but she's too far gone to care. She moves them into a slow rhythm, and begins to hum the melody that her mother had taught her. Jean doesn't question her actions, only goes a long with her, lets her do what she wants because these are their last moments.

Is this really their time now? Is this how death will take them? In a forest covered with blood, dancing in the greenest of grass that's been soiled with scarlet blotches?

Jean decides this is probably the nicest way to die in a world like this.

The girl he's loved in his arms, for the last time, her hums in his ear of a song he's never heard before, a sound that is enough to blur out the increasingly loud footsteps that are closing in.

So this is how one dies, Jean thinks.

For Mikasa, she's back home, dancing with the sweet song playing to drown out the rest of the noise.

He's home to her, in these last few moments.

I'm home, papa, momma.

I'm home.