#< which rules and is a good move. the other highest ones on search just dont have many if any marvel movies

[milfygerard]

soap2day trying to open several popups every time i click on anything vs my 20 adblocks of various uses and strengths fighting a brutal bloody battle while i search for captain america the winter soldier free stream 1080p

[understandableparadox]

High noon at Ground zero.

The clicking of the gieger counter rumbles like static, as you slide down the craters edge. bodies litter the scorched smoothed dirt. each one sporting the only wound they needed to find their final rest. layed neatly with their fineries that glint past their rust in the soon to be mid-day sun.

a cloud of dirt billows out behind you as super fine dust is disturbed and finds their highways on the wind. on the other side, you can see the same sight. the metals on them gleaming silver, gilded with gold.

at the center of the crater is a podium. glowing slightly with heat and radiation. twisted and ever so slightly molten with its own energy. old text distorted across its surface refusesing to relinquish their meaning even after so long. to the north, leaning lackadaisically was the only spectator.

"Rules simple. a 6 bullets in each gun, only need the one. if you miss, which you wont, i'll ask if yall just lay the guns down and brawl it till your done."

their voice box was cracked, in need of some form of repair that it would never see. their form wrapped in stitched together from the ponchos of other visitors. You wonder if your own was interesting enough to take.

you stare ahead. your opponents ocular array was sparkling clean, letting the red light of it burrow into you. voyeuristic gleaning everything about you. Everything, how fast you can move, how many shots you can take, your willingness to stay your hand and your willingness to forgive. your good camera zooms in ever so slightly, searching their form.

Their body is tattooed garishly in gold, sweeping vines that grow from old battle wounds, refusing to hide the shameful destruction of their exo-skelaton.

"Any point to talking this out?" They ask, though the fact that their already absentmindedly checking the gun in hand, they know your answer.

The spectator once again speaks.

"Leave your grievances at the podium, hate aint gonna do ya any good anymore, duel in peace."

"You killed my creator... You shot and killed the human that made me and now im gonna do the same to you." You force out, as if trying to follow the spectators advice. letting hot irons of rage fall from your speakers to be swallowed up by the podium. you grab the gun and hold the barrel to the sky. the heat of it blisters the plastic grip of your hand.

"you are assigning a sin onto me that just ain't real, what i did was a fucking mercy. " he retorted, you cant read his face, you cant read the signal he emits, you cannot read it in a way that is rational.

"Paces. Find a place you wouldn't mind laying your head and wait til you're clocks hit noon. A second after, you may begin." the spectator stated.

You look around. not to many spots left, the old duelists found all the good spots already. you consider something symbolic, laying in a way that points towards your home, but the spot has already been claimed by a another metal corpse. the seconds are ticking away. you find a spot where the dust looks like its piled enough to make a small pillow if you fall in just the right spot.

you finally turn around to see that he has only moved a few paces away from the podium. just enough to be considerate of those who will inevitably come next. how long have they been watching you...?

the shadows in the crater are growing shorter, slowly turning non existent.

"Last chance for yall to drop your guns and walk away. yall had plenty of time to think of the worth of this greivance." the spectator drawled, their faded face turned towards the sun as it climbed to the highest point in the sky. as if he knew neither would take that offer.

plastic from your hand had finally stopped dripping down your fingers into the dirt, the gun finally cooling enough. if you survived, you would need to machine out new pads for your hand.

10 seconds left. you choose a the oculer arrey, a nice clear target for you to go for. You wonder what spot he chose for you.

9 seconds left. you ready your grip on the gun, flexing your finger, tenseing your hydraulics to flick.

8 seconds left. you wonder if its possible for both of the bullets to hit each other. both of your aims are deadly enough, it might just happen.

7 seconds left. you try to remember a good face to leave this earth with. you plan to win but its not logical to assume. You remember a good one.

6 seconds left. you cant stop your eyes flicking from the specter widdling down a from a corpse into a set of two bullets, peice by peice cleaning the crater. you wasted time stareing.

4 seconds left. there is a tremble. you cant afford to know where the tremble is, you just know its there.

3 seconds. you consider how many have fired a second bullet, its not impossible to hit em out of the air...

2 seconds, ah, you can read his signals again. nothing bit pity.

1 second. he fired a little early.

[dreamcatcher-roulette]

Anonymous asked:

Hullo, hope you're doing well and enjoying the comeback and the albums 🤩🤩 looking forward to when they'll show up in roulette!

Pls feel free to ignore as this may be a little dumb, but I figured you might know?

From what I can vaguely understand from Wiki and from your past response, can I assume TV broadcast files are usually .ts files? And that it's not the file type that dictates the "quality," but rather the encoding?

There's a Twitter account (😭 I forgot which, it's lost on my timeline now) that occasionally posts .ts files of DC's music show performances, the most recent file being :

240718.MnetJP.엠카운트다운.드림캐쳐.JUSTICE.H264.AAC.1080i-AbySSS.ts

Going off the name and what you've mentioned before about "best quality" where 1080i h264 is better than Youtube, would this file probably be better than downloading the YT video of the same performance?

Fake ask again to strip links because I'm really good at being unnecessarily paranoid but YES! I am having a blast. Siyeon’s absence is felt but it's nice to see her still pop up in some of the YouTube show performances. Handong is totally killing her parts too though so it's been fun seeing that 😁

On the question of quality:

(Minor point of clarity: the encoding is an aspect which determines the quality but not the only one. The simplest quality measure is probably taking into account encoding AND bitrate, where bitrate is the amount of data being displayed per second and encoding is how efficiently it's compressed. Technically the best quality is the highest possible bitrate with zero compression but that's just not feasible, so this is where encodings come in. Newer encodings are, as a rule of thumb, better quality than older ones at "sensible" bitrates, but, as in the case of YouTube for example, a much lower bitrate can make a newer encoding look much worse than an older one. That's why in my quality ranking YouTube was beneath MPEG2 - YouTube is almost all h264 for 1080p, which is newer than MPEG2, but the bitrates drag the quality down the drain.)

Generally 1080i recordings, in their "rawest" form, are MPEG-TS (.ts) files, yeah. 4k are more commonly posted in MP4 though I've found. I'm speculating here based off my own experiences (I haven't ever asked anyone who does this if this is the true reason) but I think that's because MPEG-TS just isn’t efficient enough at high bitrates to provide a very pleasant viewing experience. Let me demonstrate using a convoluted metaphor:

Say you’re a marble vendor and you are looking to transport two blue marbles and two red marbles to one of your clients. You need a container to send them in. Because these marbles are quite precious you want to make sure that they are sent in a well fortified box, but you also care about fitting as many boxes as possible into your supply trucks, so you don't want to waste any space inside of them. You pack all four marbles tightly into the box and seal it up.

When your client receives their shipment, they open it up and can easily see all four marbles in the box. There isn’t much incentive for them to move the marbles since, even though the box has a bit of a heavy hinge, it's not really that big of a deal and any other box would incur some cost in opening it too. They place the box on their shelf and don't worry about it any further.

Now imagine you want to send a client one hundred thousand marbles. But your boxes still only fit four marbles each. The transportation is easy and efficient because the boxes stack nicely (assume for a moment you also have an extremely efficient marble box packing machine), but, once they all arrive at their destination, your client doesn't want to search through hundreds of boxes trying to find the marble they are looking for. They want to move all those marbles to a much bigger and well sorted marble... Okay I really don't know what people normally store hundreds of thousands of marbles in. But the point being that even though all the marbles are still the same, at a certain volume the transportation container was no longer optimal to keep at the destination. 4k HEVC .ts files are HORRIBLY inefficient at rendering even on relatively good hardware and moving the data to MP4 has huge performance benefits.

So the file extension of the source doesn't matter? Well I still think it does, psychologically. I would always trust a .ts more than a .mp4 at 1080i. It isn't possible for you to know, without the original, that what the uploader did was a remux (changing the container) rather than a re-encode (a lossy operation which, best case scenario, produced an output that looks equivalent to the human eye because nothing crucial was lost). Well intentioned people accidentally re-encode to MP4 all the time without realising what it does to the integrity of the file. It's much less likely someone has had the same mishap in the other direction because .ts is not a commonly desired destination. So even though a remuxed MP4 is identical in quality to it's MPEG-TS source, in order to avoid other people's translation errors I would always trust an available .ts first.

That file, assuming it is what it says it is, would absolutely be better than downloading the same performance from YouTube. YouTube has done a lossy re-encode on the video the broadcaster uploaded and will not ever serve you the original. A really obvious symptom of this is the file sizes. YouTube will always be a lot smaller. (For the same encoding. Which by the way you can find out by using Media Info. AVC=h264, HEVC=h265) It's pretty noticeable to the human eye in motion, so it can be a fun exercise to play the two side by side and compare. It's also noticeable on a frame by frame level if you use a player that lets you do that.

But yeah, in summary, YouTube's version of that performance will be unquestionably worse. On average it will be missing 3/4 of the information stored in the original. Which, because of how cool compression is, actually still produces a pretty decent image, but it falls apart in motion and really if you are an individual wanting to watch something for your own enjoyment instead of a big company trying to optimise their bandwidth usage there's just no need to sacrifice those pixels.

[cienie-isengardu]

After watching Chapter 20: The Foundling (s03e04), I think I finally figured out why Children of the Watch bugs me so much. Ironically this is not just about the helmet rule even though at this point in the story I find it hysterically hilarious how the show doesn’t follow its own worldbuilding. Like Din got kicked out from the Tribe because he took off his helmet and Armorer - who usually is fair and act as the voice of reason - didn’t even bother to ask for the reason behind it (and at least one time was about Din getting medical help and the other, if I remember correctly, was done to save Grogu) with moment before Paz Vizsla claiming he has never took off his helmet because this is the way but now Children of the Watch take off the helmets to eat like no big deal, when we already saw Din eating while not revealing fully his face? Like, sorry, either you are not allowed to take that blasted thing (about what we have two seasons and a bit Book of Boba Fett) or you are allowed to do so in certain situations but if the letter is true, then not asking Din for reason behind his action and just kicking him out on spot is so… jerk move. Double so, when Armorer claims that saving a Foundling is the “highest honor of the Creed '' and isn’t it what all Din’s actions are about through the last two seasons? 

I sidetracked. 

Anyway, the mentioned scene of Mandalorians scattering around to eat alone so other people don't see their faces (the act of removing the helmet) is what frustrated me so much about this group. Children of the Watch are recognized as a Mandalorian community but they don’t feel much to be one?

On one hand, the show established that members of the Children of the Watch:

 support each other in various ways. Like coming to aid a fellow Mandalorian in fight whatever said members are on good terms or not (Paz and Din in the first season) or providing material goods, as we are both shown (with Din) and told (by Armorer) that “It is a tradition [...] for each to donate a small portion of what they earn to the foundlings”. So those who earn money or get their hands on anything special like beskar, support the most vulnerable ones (orphans) of their Tribe. Which is definitely a positive aspect of their community (even if so far we see only(?) Din to wander through the galaxy and actually earn money and share them with his people). 

celebrate (witness) together an important moments of individual members like the ceremonial accepting Creed by Ragnar or Din’s official return after Armorer confirmed his proof about Living Waters 

train together and the older (more experienced) members act as mentors

organize a searching (war) party for a child abducted by predator animal

So it can’t be denied that Children of the Watch is a community in which all members take part in the social life of the Tribe, and all play some specific roles. The adults mentor the less experienced people and act as protectors in times of danger, Armorer is providing knowledge and guidance but also (alongside Paz Vizsla?) guards tradition and “punishes” for breaking the rules - and it is important to note she is usually presented as fair judge, as it was seen with Din and Paz’s rocky relationship through the all seasons.  

On another hand we don’t see Children of the Watch (beside Armorer and Paz) interact with Din or Bo in any meaningful way that builds the feeling of truly belonging to this little society or even between each other in background? And here comes my realization with the rescue group sitting around the fireplace. The food was distributed, Bo’s position as leader acknowledged by Paz and then… everyone went on their own to eat in solitude. Which is so anticlimactic in regard to building any personal connection between Tribe and newcomer. They were a rescue group, on “enemy” territory (with some dangerous local fauna, there could be more hungry predators lurking in the night) and instead of sharing the warmth of firework, the sitting (eating) by the fire is treated as privilege.

Eating together and sharing food with your community is a universal bonding experience and it is no wonder that Bo-Katan is out of her depth so much in that scene, when one remembers she was for years part of Death Watch. And we know thanks to The Clone Wars (a tie-in material from the same New Canon) that Death Watch feasted together (A Friend in Need)

or even during Pre and Maul talk about alliance - a pretty important moment for both involved parties - there was one warrior who apparently chose to eat/drink between his folks rather than sitting (alone) somewhere else.

Hell, even when Din and Boba Fett seek her in the previous season, she and Koska also ate a meal together.

Of course, those little scenes are just glimpses at life of other mandalorian groups, but there is drastic contrast between Children of the Watch (eat alone so no one see you removing helmet/showing face) and what Bo-Katan experienced within two separate communities (Death Watch and her clan/followers). And I think this is the reason why Children of the Watch doesn’t feel like a true community to me. Sure, they train together and take part in ceremonies and aid each other in fight, but there is little of actual personal relationship? Little of normal things the community do together like exactly eating and sharing a place by the fire?

And there is something really bothering how the morally dubious Death Watch act as a community, not only with the training, but also eating a meal together or talking with each other - what could be observed in various scenes between the unnamed members.

In general I think TCW provided a better feeling of Death Watch’s daily life outside of combat than The Mandalorian show did for the Children of the Watch. It is doubly weird that Pre Vizsla of all people bothered to offer Maul a tea when they were making alliance as a gesture of goodwill and/or playing the good host role

while Bo-Katan (a newcomer) is left to eat alone because no one is allowed to remove the helmet in company thus can’t eat together. Come to think about it, Bo-Katan too offered to share her food with Grogu and Din in the “Mines of Mandalore” which adds to the feeling how food - as bonding / belonging to community - means a lot to her or Mandalorian in general.

Additional feeling of the not-so-good community sense comes from the same episode and is about how Ragnar could walk away from the group unnoticed when apparently Children of the Watch are perfectly aware of dangerous predators lurking around. And the kid walked to the edge of the water from which Tribe was already attacked by a beast and for some reason no one noticed it? Like Din was there when Ragnar just walked away but he was too busy praising Grogu even though, as the adult and part of the community he was responsible for other (especially less experienced) members. He however could have zero knowledge of the flying predator that may snatch the kid but the Tribe living there knew but did not bother to guard their children better? As was shown, they didn’t put anyone on guard duty to make sure those training together were safe or to keep an eye on kids wandering away from the group? You know, to not repeat the tragedy that already befall on their community in the recent past? It is especially weird to me, because the whole episode put so much pressure on how saving a foundling (or child in general) is the most honorable part of the Creed yet the Children of the Watch, as a collective, did not provide the safety to the most vulnerable members as they could despite the knowledge about danger and already experienced tragedy.

And sure, we could argue hey this kid is a sworn Mandalorian and maybe the Mando doesn’t fret about children safety as we, the no-warrior people, do. But the thing is, none of the monsters the Tribe faced was something a single adulr warrior could beat alone. It was always a community effort to beat them - and mind you, the “water beast” ultimately was killed by fire from Din’s spaceship so it is not something that a lonely kid could achieve on his own. The flying monster also was defeated because of cooperation of several warriors (though they maybe could kill it faster if the animal didn’t hold the kid). Which is why I find the execution of the plot weak from the in-universe perspective, as this tragedy was easy to avoid if only the Tribe bothered a bit more with common sense and security (something they were much more focused on in the first season?)

Of course, the show is an ongoing project so maybe the future episodes will change my mind about Children of the Watch, but for now I have very mixed feelings about them as the Mandalorian community. They are built as one for sure but they don’t really feel like a real community so far to me. Especially not compared to Death Watch, as was presented by the same New Canon.

[jodybensonsharp]

Jody Benson Sharp  Don't Tell Anyone, But The Secrets About Lead Generation Are Here

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Make sure that all of your leads are legit. Many people get so caught up when buying leads that they don't notice all of the duplicates. It is simple to overlook a lead that you have already gathered multiple times. The most effective campaigns do not continually target customers that have not shown an interest in your products or services.

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Find out if any local publications available for free fit within your niche. For example, real estate agents can get into the local "New Homes" guides found in boxes around the city. If you are a dentist, you could get an ad in a free kids' magazine which details local attractions.

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Find ways to qualify leads that you've brought into the company. Yes, it's important to get as much data as you can, but leads are of different levels of quality. Some leads are more likely to be bigger customers than others. One way is to develop a survey to learn more about their buying habits.

Create a local reciprocal referral database for yourself and other local businesses. You can set it up on Google Documents and ask people you know to join it. If you know someone who needs dental work you can refer them to a dentist on the list and, if he knows someone who needs you he'll, do the same.

Take a class which would better your skills and talk to the other students. They might just be honing their skills because they aren't very good at what you're good at, and maybe they can use what you're selling to make up for the fact they can't do it on their own.

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Make sure your website is full of high quality content. Mundane content can cause you to lose leads. You don't want any grammar errors or inaccuracies within your content. Doing this reduces the risks of losing prospective customers as soon as you've got their attention.

Consider publications which fit your niche and write for them. For example, real estate agents could write an article in New Homes Magazine about what to look for when checking out new homes, or what sort of fees one should expect when buying their first home, and then include a byline with a call to action.

As you consider who to exchange links with, think about your local status. If you are a landscaper, you have no interest in advertising yourself in another area. As a result, exchanging links with a landscaper who isn't within your geographic area means you both get SEO benefits and potential leads without competing with each other.

Consider an incentive program for referrals. Referrals can bring in a lot of business when people are properly motivated. Incentives could include free or heavily discounted product or an actual percentage of sales generated. Whatever the incentive, it must be something of value to the people bringing you the referrals.

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[aulia-m]

Jack Dorsey wants a web-only mobile OS

Good lord, where do I start with this? Jack, you’re a tech leader. Haven’t you at least heard of WebOS and Firefox OS before you asked that?

There have been so many attempts at making that OS that he wants I think he forgot until people started pointing it out to him in the replies. Firefox OS and WebOS were just two of the highest profile ones. Another “web-only” OS is Chrome OS which powers laptops.

His argument is the technology back then didn’t allow it but the web is advanced enough now to do it. But Jack, it has always been advanced enough for most of the apps you needed at the time. 

If all he wanted was to release a social media app without having to adhere to platform rules and regulations, he can do that right now as web apps. In fact nobody will stop him from releasing such apps. Maybe he also forgot Twitter has been a web app for a long time.

WebOS was so far ahead of its time Apple and Google have been reintroducing its features on their respective platforms as new innovations in recent years.

The problem was not limited to the apps they wanted to build, that was the least of their worries. These attempts had so many other issues such as hardware spec, budget, marketing, determination, leadership, resources, resilience, developer outreach, public buy ins, and so on. 

Many other attempts were little more than Android forks which is ironic because Google has always been a major advocate of web apps with their Progressive Web Apps efforts. All the web technologies built since 2008 have been moving towards making web apps as viable as native apps and many, if not all, have been adopted as web standards which will work on any modern browser.

Someone asked him how will people discover apps in a federated world. Bruh, there are things called directories! Anyone can build an app directory, any developer can promote them anywhere, there are social media platforms, YouTube channels, and this new thing called advertising, all the big brands are doing it, ever heard of advertising?

I think this is Jack projecting his insecurities and concerns that Apple and Google will soon boot Twitter off the stores for having no content moderation. 

Twitter has plenty of porn, 13% of its content, in fact, according to a recent report, and they’re not censored. Even Reddit has content moderation. While certain keywords are currently blocked from Twitter search, porn is not very difficult to find there. The company’s former head of Trust and Safety, Yoel Roth, penned an op ed for The NY Times on what could become of Twitter without content moderation, among other things.

There’s also the issue of payment processing. Both Apple and Google charge fees for purchases of digital items and Twitter’s new management wants to avoid that because they plan to generate the bulk of their revenue from subscription. Spotify, Netflix, and Amazon’s Kindle still have apps on Android and iOS/iPadOS but they don’t allow payments through the stores, only from their websites, to avoid that fee. They run what Apple calls “reader apps” , these are apps that don’t allow in-app purchases of digital items. 

Twitter can do what Netflix and Spotify do, but if they plan to sell low cost high volume digital goods and services through the app, people will have to keep jumping to the web, quite an inconvenient barrier, to make those purchases. Those other companies only charge customers once a month so it’s less of an issue.

[maswritingblog]

The Arrangement - Part Four

Summary: After their first failure, Lucy and Marcus continue with the schedule as planned and hope for the best. 

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY!), Oral (f receiving), mentions of trying to conceive, mentions of fertility, pregnancy tests (in case that is triggering for anyone) Unedited because I literally finished it and wanted to post it, so sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: Here is the next part! I hope you all enjoy it and I once again apologize for the long wait for this chapter. It’s a long one, coming in at about 7k words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucy’s phone chimed on her desk beside her, pulling her attention away from the email she was composing. She had been needing a break, her eyes starting to get tired from staring at her computer screen all morning. She took the opportunity to draft the email and sat back in her cushy office chair, unlocking her phone to view the notification.

Ovulation day!

The two words were framed by little flowers from the theme for the dumb cycle tracking app she’d downloaded a few days after she had started sleeping with Marcus. She hadn’t realized it was her ovulation day and she cursed inwardly; not only was it Tuesday, she also had to work late tonight, so spending an extra night at Marcus’s wasn’t an option.

Dammit. She sighed heavily, placing her phone back on her desk as she thought for a moment. She couldn’t afford to not stay late tonight, but Marcus couldn’t afford to lose one of the best days they had. That really only left one option…but she wasn’t sure if Marcus would agree to it, or if she was up for it either.

She debated it for a long few minutes before she decided it was a risk she was willing to take, and she grabbed her phone to send Marcus a message.

Meet me in the parking garage in five minutes. Level 8.

She hoped she wasn’t being too crazy, that he wouldn’t think she was out of her mind when she revealed her plan. Honestly, she was out of her mind for even thinking about doing something like this at work.

Marcus’s reply came back almost instantly. Everything okay?

Instead of answering, she dropped her phone on her desk and pushed her chair back. She made sure her computer was locked and secured before slipping out of her office and heading towards the elevators. She tried not to look into Marcus’s office on the way, though she knew he must be confused about the situation.

She wanted the mystery to work in her favor.

Level eight of the parking garage was one of the levels that didn’t get much traffic. It was where the extra government vehicles were parked and agents would use them occasionally when they couldn’t use the ones assigned to them. The secluded level would be perfect so long as there weren’t any agents needing a temporary vehicle.

Lucy rode the elevator to floor six and got off, walking quickly to the SUV she’d been issued for her team but didn’t get to use that often. It might as well get some use now, even if it wasn’t exactly what the big-wigs had in mind when they’d handed her the keys.

Driving up to the eighth floor, she moved down the two rows of matching black SUVs and finally parked at the end of the row on the left side. She only hoped it was far enough away that nobody would notice anything.

She tried not to think about the fact that she was slightly turned on by the idea of doing this. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught, of the consequences of being found doing something so inappropriate on government property.

Stepping out of her car, she walked around to lean against the back end as she waited for Marcus. It only took another minute before the elevator dinged and he stepped out, looking around with a look of confusion on his face before he spotted her and headed her way.

“Lucy? What’s going on?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her, his brown eyes searching her face for any kind of answer.

For a brief moment, she almost wanted to chicken out. It would be easy to change her mind, even if she would have to come up with an explanation as to why she had dragged him to the parking garage in the middle of the work day.

“So, it’s Tuesday,” she started slowly, trying to decide how to approach the situation.

He nodded slowly. “…yes…”

Lucy laughed lightly, more at the situation that she’d put herself in more than anything else. “It’s Tuesday, and I have to stay late tonight to work on the briefing for tomorrow. But the thing is…I’m ovulating. Today’s the highest chance for pregnancy according to my stupid app, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to try.”

As she rambled, he seemed to put it together. His eyes widened nearly comically and he glanced around the parking level as if someone would be lurking in the shadows watching them.

“You—you want to do it here?” he asked, voice laced with surprise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

She nodded quickly. “I know it’s crazy, but this could be the day and this is the only time we’ll have to try. We don’t exactly have time to drive anywhere offsite, and I’m not about to do it in a bathroom or a supply closet where anyone could walk in. I figured this would be the best place since nobody really comes up to this level.”

Marcus sputtered, seeming to lose all ability to speak. “W-What? How—How?”

She wondered if he was flustered because he thought she was nuts, or if he liked the idea. She had to admit that the prospect of getting caught had an affect on her in a way she hadn’t realized before; perhaps it had something to do with breaking the rules.

“The back seats lay down, leaves a good amount of room in the trunk. But we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it; I just won’t be able come over tonight and I didn’t want to miss an ovulation day.”

He was silent and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Sometimes she felt like she could read Marcus like a book, and sometimes she felt like he was locked in a safe and she didn’t know the combination. As he eyeballed the back of the SUV, she wondered if she had truly lost her mind when she had thought this was a good idea.

Finally, he gave her a pointed look. “Are you comfortable with this? I don’t want you to think you have to do this just for me.”

Of course, he was being a gentleman about this. Of course, he was putting her comfort above his. It was so on brand for him, and yet that didn’t stop her from being surprised by it. She appreciated it, while also wishing he would think of himself more often.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m the one suggesting this, remember?”

Marcus paused in thought for a moment, his eyes moving from the SUV to her multiple times before he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He agreed.

She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, maybe because she thought public sex was a line he wasn’t willing to cross. If she were being honest with herself, it wasn’t a line she had ever imagined crossing either. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, right? Something told her this wasn’t what the person who had coined that phrase had in mind.

“Okay.” She echoed, moving to one of the back doors and motioning for him to go around to the other side.

Pulling the door open, she reached for the lever to lower the seat on her side and watched as Marcus did the same. With the back row lying flat, there was plenty of room for the two of them to lay down, which seemed like the best way to not be spotted should anyone actually come to this level. Climbing in was a bit awkward, but they managed to get the doors shut behind them. Kneeling in the back of the SUV, they stared at each other for a beat.

“So, how do we do this?” Marcus wondered, asking the same question she had been mulling over in her head.

She didn’t know why she had to have the answer for everything, but it could have something to do with the fact that she had initiated this encounter. She had been confident about this idea when she’d come up with it, but now she found herself blanking on the next step. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her to be this spontaneous?

“I didn’t really have this all planned out…” she admitted slowly. The awkwardness felt like the first time all over again, and it almost made her laugh.

Marcus nodded. “Okay, so I don’t really want to be caught buck naked at work, so I’m thinking that we stay as clothed as possible.” He suggested.

It was something she could agree with. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. So, pants only then?”

“Pants only.”

Lucy reached down to work on her belt and he did the same. Once her pants were undone and she’d pushed them down her thighs slightly, she sat fully and started pushing them down her legs. It wasn’t the easiest task in the back of the SUV and she found she had to lay down a bit to even get them to her knees.

Marcus’s hands were gently pushing hers away then and he pulled the tight slacks down her legs.

“If I had known this was gonna happen, I would have worn a skirt today.” She joked, slipping her shoes off so he could pull her pants off and push them out of the way.

“Definitely would have been easier.” He teased as he slotted his hips between her thighs and leaned over her to press his lips to hers.

His belt was hanging open, the cool metal pressing against the skin of her inner thigh and making her jump slightly. Their tongues tangled and she wanted to run her hands through his hair the way he liked, but she didn’t want to make it obvious what he’d been doing away from his desk. Instead, she reached down and finished opening his pants for him, lowering the zipper and slipping her hand inside to palm him over his briefs.

Marcus groaned into her mouth, pressing his hips into her hand as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and then her chin before his lips returned to hers in a heated kiss. He rolled his hips against her palm and she squeezed him gently, pulling another groan from his throat, followed by his hand grasping her wrist in warning.

Lucy chuckled against his lips, beginning to squeeze again only to be surprised by his next move.

The grip on her wrist tightened and he yanked her hand from his pants, pinning her wrist down next to her head. He pulled away to stare down at her, his chest heaving as his eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“What?” she asked in feigned innocence, stifling a laugh.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he simply shook his head at her with a laugh of his own. He released her wrist and supported his weight on his hand next to her head, the other reaching down to begin pushing his pants and briefs down.

Taking it as a cue, she reached down to do the same with her underwear, sliding them down her legs as best she could as he pushed his down to his knees.

“Can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” He commented as he situated himself between her legs again, his erection bobbing against his stomach where he’d pulled his dress shirt up out of the way of any potential messes.

She wanted to ask him if it was as exhilarating to him as it was to her, but she thought that maybe he didn’t see it that way, that he’d find it weird that she did. She’d discovered a lot of things about herself since they’d begun sleeping together, a lot of things that excited her despite the fact that she’d never considered them in that light before. Perhaps she was more depraved than she realized.

“We don’t have to.” She reminded him, just in case he was having second thoughts. She wasn’t sure if he was given the way he was already so ready, the tip of him already leaking. Despite his body’s reaction, though, she wanted to give him the chance to back out.

Marcus’s met her gaze, and his voice came out soft despite the way his eyes had darkened with lust. “I want to.” He reassured her while silently asking if she still wanted this as well.

There was a long beat of silence as she stared up at him. She admired his handsome features, the way a lock of his perfectly styled hair had fallen onto his forehead and the way his nose curved down towards his plump lips. That single dimple that she found so endearing.

It still baffled her how he didn’t already have a beautiful wife and family.

She found herself unable to respond verbally, so she reached up to pull his mouth back down to hers.

He got the hint, pressing his body down close to hers as he reached down to position himself at her entrance. He slid his tip up and down her folds a couple of times, gathering her wetness before pressing into her slowly. He eased in until his hips were flush against hers, both moaning in unison as their lips parted, their foreheads pressed together.

There was no going back now; Lucy’s knees brushed against his sides as she hitched her legs up further on his hips, pulling him deeper inside her with a soft sigh against his mouth.

His hips drew back slowly and then he slid forward again, repeating the movement a few times. As good as he felt, as good as the slide of him inside her walls made her feel, she knew they didn’t have the same amount of time they usually did and anyone could come up to this floor at any time.

“We have to hurry.” She gasped as he filled her again.

He pulled almost completely out of her and paused. For just a moment she thought he might stop, but then he thrust forward, driving into her hard and fast, wasting no time before he did it again, and again.

Lucy clung to his shoulders, hands fisting in the material of his shirt as she held on, small and breathy moans escaping her each time he filled her. She knew his shirt might be wrinkled by her hands, but at least he could cover it with his suit jacket if he needed to. For now, all she needed to be focused on was the pleasure rolling through her with his movements, and the hope that the risk they were taking would pay off in the end.

The rhythm they had created had the SUV rocking gently; if anyone saw they would definitely know what was happening inside.

Marcus was hovering over her, supporting his weight on one hand as the other hooked under her right knee to press her leg closer to her chest. The new angle had him driving deeper inside and brushing against her just right; the slap of his hips against hers as he worked at a bruising pace only echoed by their sounds of pleasure.

One of Lucy’s hands scrambled down from his shoulder, desperate for purchase. She gripped at his side where his shirt was raised, nails biting into the skin as she rolled her hips up to meet his.

Marcus groaned above her in response to the scratch of her nails and as he thrust forward again, he took a moment to grind his pelvis against hers.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasped, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull his mouth back down to hers.

Their tongues tangled as they moaned into each other’s mouths, hips working together to get them closer to their release. Just as Lucy felt herself approaching the cliff, the ding of the elevator startled them.

They both jumped, freezing their movements as Marcus hunched over her as if he was trying to shield her semi-nude body from any prying eyes. His head lifted slightly to peek out the window and Lucy waited with baited breath for someone to catch them.

They would surely be fired if they were caught having sex at work.

Marcus’s brown eyes were locked on whoever had arrived on the parking level. The sound of voices filled the concrete structure and Lucy thought for sure things were going to end badly.

Unexpectedly, Marcus slowly rolled his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter involuntarily.

“Wha—?”

“Ssshh.” Marcus shushed softly, eyes not leaving the window as he pulled out slowly only to fill her again at the same pace.

Was he really doing this? As he rocked his hips again, it seemed he was.

His eyes never left the window as he moved slowly over her. She could hear voices on the parking level, although they were several vehicles away. Each push and pull of his hips had him brushing up against the sensitive spot inside her and it only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Although she tried to stop it, she couldn’t completely hide the small moan that escaped her as his hips ground against hers. She knew she needed to keep quiet for both their sakes, but it just felt too good.

Marcus gently shushed her again, the tips of his first three fingers pressing delicately to her lips to keep her quiet.

God, there was something about the need to keep quiet that had her so close.

The soft thudding of car doors shutting echoed through the parking garage and Marcus used the opportunity to snap his hips against hers just a little harder, pulling another whimper from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed.

An engine started before the vehicle could be heard driving down the ramp exiting the level and Marcus pulled his hand away from her mouth, driving his hips forward as he returned to the pace they’d set before the interruption.

Lucy tried to ignore the way she missed his fingers over her lips, choosing to drag his mouth back down to hers for a heated kiss, lifting her hips to meet his hard thrusts as one of his arms wrapped around her to hold her body against his.

“Fuck.” Lucy gasped against his mouth, feeling herself once again on the precipice. One of her hands fisted in his shirt again, while the other seemed to have a mind of its own and slid around to grasp a handful of his backside as if it would help guide his movements. She couldn’t think straight, all she knew was how good he felt, and then she was tumbling over the edge with a string of moans.

Marcus buried his face in her neck, working her through her orgasm with a groan of his own at the way she pulsed around him. His arm tightened around her, fingers digging into her ribcage as his thrusts become shallow and deliberate as he desperately chased after his own release.

Lucy’s hand left his shirt, reaching up to smooth through the hair on the back of his head as if she was encouraging him to let go. Her nails dug into his backside as she gently tugged on the soft locks of hair, eliciting a moan from where he was tucked into her neck.

A little encouragement was all it took and he was there, warmth blossoming inside her as he filled her with rope after rope. He moaned slowly, nuzzling against her neck as he came down from his high.

They laid there like that for a minute or two as they cooled down, tangled up in each other despite the fact that they didn’t have the luxury of their normal wind down time. Even though they needed to get back to work before anyone noticed they were both missing, neither of them moved. Perhaps it had been the fact that they had almost been caught or that they had done this at work, but it had made this time more exhilarating, and in turn had exhausted them.

Regardless, Lucy didn’t mind a little extra time with his arms around her.

After what felt like five minutes or more, she rubbed both her hand up and down his back slowly. “We have to get back to work.” She spoke softly, her voice raw.

Marcus nodded against her throat. “Mmhmm.” He mumbled, arm squeezing around her tighter for several seconds before he slowly pulled back to look down at her, his eyes darkened with something other than lust.

Lucy’s fingers brushed over his cheekbone and she glanced at the fogged over window over their heads. “We totally missed the opportunity to recreate Titanic.” She noted with a chuckle.

He laughed lightly, brushing her hair off her forehead. “Maybe next time.” He offered, still slightly out of breath from the exertion.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmm…are you trying to get caught with your pants down regularly?”

“Well, I was thinking we’d park somewhere more discrete, but if you wanted to do it in the middle of the road, that’s fine too.”

She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes playfully. “As thrilling as it was to almost lose my job, I think we should stick with discretion in the future.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, it was thrilling for you, huh?” he teased.

Another eyeroll. “Getting less thrilling by the second.”

He snickered, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that quickly turned heated.

She allowed it for a few seconds before pushing against his chest. “Okay, okay, we gotta get back to work.” As much as she would have enjoyed potentially going for another round, she knew they could both only be away from their offices for so long before it became suspicious.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, taking a second before he slipped out of her and rolled onto his back, beginning to put his clothes back together.

Lucy reached for her underwear, pulling them back on before moving for her pants. It was a bit awkward trying to redress in the back of the SUV, but they quickly got themselves presentable.

“Okay, I’m gonna drive this back to where I originally parked and you can go back to your office. That way we don’t show back up at the same time.”

He nodded as he opened the car door and climbed out. “That’s probably a good idea. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

She rounded the back end of the car and reached up to fix his collar before smoothing her hands over the wrinkles on his shoulders from her hands. “Well, I think they’ll probably figure it out when I get pregnant.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Marcus paused, eyes widening slightly as he took in her words. Lucy didn’t seem to register what she’d said, adjusting her own shirt as best she could using the reflection in the car window.

“When?”

She turned at the surprise in his voice, finding his face open with awe. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?” She teased him with a chuckle. Inwardly, she too realized that she’d said when instead of if. Maybe it was just positive thinking, or maybe she just knew it was going to work out for him. As good a guy as Marcus Pike was, he deserved to have a family and surely whatever deity reigned above would see that.

“Y-Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I guess it was just different hearing you sound so sure about it.”

“Look, I know I’ve been sort of a Debbie Downer the last few days—”

“—No! It was rough when things didn’t work out, I understand why you were upset. I was, too. It’s just nice to hear you feeling positive again.”

Lucy grinned at him, stepping closer and resting her hands on his hips. “Well, that would be the endorphins, probably. You know, from the mind-blowing sex we just had?”

He couldn’t help but laugh in response, nodding his head in agreement. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Stretching onto her toes, she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before she stepped away. If she let it go any further, they might end up in the SUV again.

“Okay, get back upstairs before someone notices.”

“As you wish.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peeing on a stick always felt so weird to her. She’d had her fair share of pregnancy scares in college, so it was nothing new, but the act of trying to land as much urine on the tip of a stick as she could was always odd. Having to stop several times to use multiple tests was just as strange, but soon she was standing in front of the bathroom sink with three pregnancy tests in front of her.

Two minutes and she’d know. Two minutes and her life would either change for the better or continue to be stressful for the short amount of time Marcus had left before his surgery.

“Are you sure it’s not too soon?” the man in question asked from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

She’d opened the bathroom door after she’d peed on the sticks, not wanting to wait for the results alone.

“I don’t know, these tests say you can take them as early as ten days after unprotected sex.” She said, studying the box again. “I mean, we’ve done it plenty of times since the SUV, but something about that time felt like it worked.”

“Probably just those endorphins.”

She gave him a wry look, rolling her eyes even though she knew he was probably right. She couldn’t explain it, but something about that time felt right. And, yeah, maybe it was just the rush she’d gotten from almost being caught or the fact that it had been one of their best moments together, but she still needed to check. Besides, the only harm that could come from a negative result would be disappointment, and she was already chalk full of that.

“It’s been two minutes.” Marcus said softly, breaking her from her thoughts.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, leaning down to check the tests. Her shoulders slumped.

They were all negative.

When Marcus spoke again, his voice was closer, in the room with her. “Maybe we did it too early.” He offered softly.

Lucy sighed heavily, scooping up the tests and dropping them in the trash can with a loud thunk. This was the first time they’d tried actually taking tests—the first failure had come in the form of her menstrual cycle—and she had hoped for the kind of excitement that happened in movies all the time where the couple takes the test and see the positive result and cry in each other’s arms; that was a sham.

“Hey, hey,” He seemed to pick up on her mood shift immediately, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders. “It’s probably just too early. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time.”

“Plenty of time? Marcus, you only have like forty days before your surgery. I thought this would be easier. Like…I know that people struggle with this stuff all the time but we’ve also been having a lot of unprotected sex. How could one of those times not have taken?”

He maneuvered her body to face him, his hands returning to her shoulders where he continued to squeeze reassuringly. “Sometimes it just takes time, remember? Don’t get so stressed out, it doesn’t help.”

“It’s hard not to be stressed when your clock is running out.”

There was a long silence between them before he perked up. “Let’s go out tonight. Blow off some steam, have some drinks. It’ll be good for the both of us.”

Lucy shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “One night won’t hurt us, I promise. We both need to relax a little.”

For a moment, she thought about it. What could it hurt to have some fun for one night? If the stress was already ruining things for them, then alcohol could only help, right? If it loosened her up and made her less stressed, that had to help a bit. Perhaps it was a good idea.

Finally, she caved. “Okay, okay. Let’s go out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucy couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped her as they stumbled into her apartment a few hours later. She was lingering somewhere between tipsy and fully drunk, feeling good after a night drinking away her worries; they weren’t supposed to drink while trying to conceive, at least according to all the research, but it had been nice to unwind after feeling so stressed out. Stress wasn’t good for conceiving either, so she figured alcohol wouldn’t hurt this once.

Marcus, who was equally feeling the effects of the alcohol, locked the door behind them and ushered her into the kitchen. He immediately went for the cabinet he knew housed her glasses and pulled one down, filling it with water from the faucet and taking a gulp before handing it to her.

Even wasted he was a gentleman.

Their eyes locked over the rim of the glass as she drank and she slowly lowered the glass to the countertop, eyes never leaving his. The silence was palpable, the tension in the room so thick she could cut it with a knife if she wanted to. She reached for him and he met her halfway, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss.

His hands were all over her as hers bunched in his shirt, their tongues tangling, and Lucy was reminded once again that she wasn’t as good at keeping things casual as she would have preferred. She wondered if he felt the same or if this was easier for him.

He trailed kissed down her jaw and neck, nipping at her skin gently and soothing over the spots with a flick of his tongue as she panted, a whimper escaping her as he sucked lightly on that sensitive spot beneath her ear.

He didn’t stop there. He pressed kisses to her collarbone and then her chest, moving lower until he was kneeling in front of her. His hands brushed against the skin of her thighs and slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes turning up to meet hers as he pushed the fabric until it was bunched around her hips.

She gasped as his lips pressed against her inner thigh, light as a feather as he trailed kisses upwards. In all the time they’d spent together, they hadn’t done this—they’d been more focused on getting straight to the point—and she felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.

Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, his eyes on hers once again as he began to drag them down her hips and thighs until they fell to pool around her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside as she gripped the edge of the counter in anticipation. She was already soaked.

His hand gripped underneath her left knee and he lifted the leg to hook it over his shoulder. His eyes finally left hers as he began trailing kisses up her leg from her knee until he reached the spot she wanted him most. There was a moment of pause as he seemed to take her in, before he leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her folds in one smooth stroke, ending at the bundle of nerves, which he circled slowly with the tip of his tongue.

Lucy gasped, one hand leaving the counter to thread her fingers through his hair. Her eyes fell closed as she relished the feeling.

He certainly knew what he was doing as he got to work, and before long she was moaning breathlessly as she clung to him. She canted her hips slowly against his mouth, and she wasn’t sure which she liked more: his tongue on her clit or when his tongue trailed further down and his nose rubbed against it just right.

Her right leg was shaking as it tried to support her weight as she verged on the edge, her body was on fire. She wanted to ask how he’d gotten so good at this, but she didn’t want to think about the women in his past too much either.

His tongue flicked her clit once more before his mouth closed around it and he sucked lightly. It was all it took to send her over the precipice with a whine. Her fingers tugged on his hair and she struggled to stay upright, and he gripped her hips to keep her standing as he lapped at her center and slowly brought her down from her high.

“Shit.”

Marcus chuckled against her, pulling away to look up at her once more; his face was shiny from her wetness, and he licked his lips before wiping his face on the back of his hand as he stood.

She reached for him, pulling his mouth back to hers for a kiss, tasting herself on him. That had definitely sobered her up. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip and although her legs were shaking, the release sent a thrill through her and she reached down to quickly undo his belt.

Perhaps he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, or maybe going down on her had sent him into a frenzy like some kind of shark, because he gripped her hips and turned her around to face the other way. As her hands landed on the countertop, she could hear his belt jingling and then the unzipping of his pants. Her teeth bit into the pillow of her bottom lip in anticipation, still amped up from her high.

The rustling of fabric told her he’d freed himself, and then his hands were on her hips; he pushed the skirt of her dress up higher and stepped closer, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down her spine. There seemed to be a moment of hesitation and then he asked with a raspy voice: “Is this okay?”

It was something she found she really loved about him—he had already brought her to orgasm with his tongue and they’d had sex numerous times, but he was still asking if it was okay to take her from behind. Anyone else would have laughed, but she found it to be very attractive.

“Yes.” She replied, barely over a whisper at the thought of what was to come.

He nudged her feet further apart with one of his and then she felt the tip of him brushing through her folds. She leaned forward over the counter more and angled her hips better and then he was pushing forward slowly until he was fully seated inside her.

She moaned softly at the feeling, pressing back against him.

Marcus pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he remained still for a moment as if he was collecting himself, or maybe gathering the strength to continue. Then, ever so slowly, he withdrew until just the tip was left inside of her. He paused again, adjusted his grip on her hips, and then thrust forward quickly to fill her completely. He repeated the motion several times until he was pounding into her.

She wasn’t quite sure how he managed to be gentle and rough at the same time, and the pace he had chosen surprised her; not that she didn’t think he had it in him, but that it was new. If it stole the breath from her lungs, she wasn’t complaining. He mouthed at her neck and shoulder, where the thin strap of her dress had fallen down her arm. The contrast between the gentle grazing of his teeth on her skin and the brutal thrusts inside her had her weak in the knees.

“Fuck.” She moaned, doubling over to press her forehead to the countertop, relishing in the cool surface against her heated skin.

Marcus’s hands were gripping her hips tightly, his own hips meeting her backside over and over and creating a delicious noise that echoed off the kitchen tiles, the grunts and groans spilling from his lips matched her own. One of his hands smoothed up her back and he gripped her shoulder, angling his hips on the next thrust and pulling her back against him.

Lucy’s breath left her again in a string of moans as the new angle hit perfectly every time.

“Stop that racket!” a voice shouted from the other side of the wall, along with a fist pounding.

She couldn’t help but laugh at her neighbor, an elderly man who made tons of noise but hated when anyone else made even a peep. She heard Marcus chuckling behind her, but the intrusion only seemed to spur him on and his hips smacked harder against hers. It had her moaning louder, and she realized that had been his intention all along.

Though she probably wouldn’t admit it, she liked that he wanted to antagonize her neighbor.

The hand that had been at her shoulder slid down her side and around her front, dipping between her legs to circle her clit with the pads of his fingers. As she reached to grip the edge of the counter, her arm knocked into the forgotten glass of water and sent it tumbling to the floor where it surprisingly didn’t shatter. Neither one of them paid it any mind as their releases approached rapidly.

The neighbor was pounding on the wall again, but it was doing him more harm than good as the sounds echoed louder against the tiles.

“I am going to call the landlord!” the elderly man yelled on the other side.

“S-So call them!” Lucy shouted back, just as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. If the neighbor hadn’t made such a big deal, she would have tried to stifle her moans, but instead she lifted her head from where it had been resting on the countertop and let him hear it just because she knew it would infuriate him.

Marcus’s face was buried in her neck and his warm breath huffed against her skin as he laughed at her reaction. His movements were frantic, desperate, as he chased his own release and it didn’t take long for him to stiffen behind her. He pressed his body close to hers and groaned into her ear as he filled her.

They were still for a long moment, panting as they came down.

“I don’t think your neighbor likes you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Lucy laughed out loud, knowing it would also annoy the man in question. “I don’t really care.” She shrugged the shoulder his head wasn’t resting against.

“I’ll leave earbuds on his doormat.”

“No, let him listen. It’s probably the most action he’s gotten in decades.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a Tuesday night two weeks later that it happens. She’s reorganizing her bathroom purely due to boredom and she stumbles across a box of pregnancy tests. She peeked inside and felt her heart race a little; there was one test left.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she pulled the test out and debated using it. They had been keeping up with their schedule, meeting at his place minus a couple of times when they really wanted to annoy her neighbor. Even though the three tests she’d taken two weeks ago had been negative, it didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant then. False negatives happened all the time if the test was taken too early.

Maybe now is the right time.

She ripped the plastic wrapper off the test and moved to the toilet, glad she hadn’t used the bathroom yet. As she finished and set the test on the sink so she could wash her hands, she glanced up at herself in the mirror.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Luce.” She whispered to herself. She knew if it came back negative, which it more than likely would, it would only hurt more.

She had to step out of the room because she knew it would only make the minutes go by slower. What was that saying? A watched pot never boils? So, a watched pregnancy test never develops? She moved to the kitchen to start putting away the dishes in the dishwasher. By the time she finished, five minutes had passed.

It was time.

“Shit.” She whispered to herself, shuffling nervously towards the bathroom.

What was she going to do if it was negative? Marcus didn’t have much time left, if it wasn’t going to happen then that would break both their hearts.

But what if it was positive? It was what they’d wanted all along, but she couldn’t help but feel her stomach flip with nerves at the idea that all their efforts had paid off. It wasn’t because she didn’t want a baby, but because she did.

The test was sitting upright on the counter, all it would take was for her to step forward and she’d know. One step forward. It was just one step.

Knowing if she didn’t do it now, she’d never do it, she stepped forward quickly and snatched the test up, lifting it to stare down at the tiny plastic window.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

It was positive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I didn’t add pregnancy on the list of warnings because I didn’t want to spoil it. But also, if you are reading a fic that is specifically about getting pregnant, that is kind of a given.

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[potteresque-ire]

This post is Part 5 of the five-part meta series on the Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) Incident, based on what has transpired up to 2021/08/22.

1) The 2nd Sino-Japanese War (1937-45) & the Yasukuni Shrine 2) Post-War Sino-Japanese Relations; “Every Chinese should visit the Yasukuni Shrine” 3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One 4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A 5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

As a highlight to the mob nature leading to Zhang’s downfall, please consider the timeline immediately before and after Zhang’s losing his endorsements on August 13th (or, why August 13th really mattered):

August 12th, evening: Zhang’s 2019 attendance of a wedding at the Nogi Shrine (乃木神社) went on Weibo hot search, and into public awareness. The Nogi Shrine (乃木神社) is of far less fame than the Yasukuni Shrine, but was named after a Japanese general of the Imperialist Japanese Army who was also the governor-general of then colonial Taiwan.

August 13th, ~ 2 am: netizens uncovered photos of Zhang’s 2018 visit to the Yasukuni Shrine, which were spread onto Weibo and made the hot search.

August 13th, 1:39 pm: Zhang posted his first letter of apology that began with: “Today, I’m ashamed of my once ignorant self, and furthermore, wants to apologise deeply for my past inappropriate behaviour.” (今天我為曾經無知的自己而羞愧，更要對之前不當行���深刻地道歉。)

August 13th, 2 pm: Nabuo Kishi, Japan’s current Minister of Defence, and a right-wing member of the House of Representative, Yasutoshi Nishimura, made an un-announced visit to the Yasukuni Shrine. The date was 2 days earlier than the 76th anniversary of Emperor Hirohito’s surrender speech (August 15th), as customary for Japanese officials to avoid visiting the shrine on significant anniversary dates of the war.

August 13th, 4:39 pm: People’s Daily (人民日報) published an online critique of Zhang’s apology. “… As a public figure, to be so lacking in historical knowledge, so unfeeling towards the suffering of the nation, it’s too inappropriate. On matters of righteousness of the nation, testing is not permissible, challenges are definitely not permissible. If knowingly committed, one would pay a heavy price.”  (。。。身為公眾人物，對歷史常識如此匱乏，對民族苦難渾然不覺，太不應該。事關民族大義，不容任何試探，更不容有任何挑戰。若明知故犯，就得付出沈重代價。)

August 13th, 5:05 pm: CCTV News (央視新聞) posted the video of Nabuo Kishi’s visit to the Yasukuni Shrine.

August 13th, 5:33: Zhang was dropped from his first endorsement. He would be dropped by all 27 of them within the next 5 hours.

August 13th, 5:35 pm: Zhang responded to People’s Daily’s critique piece, stating he shall repent and learn his lesson, and that as a Chinese, he loves his country and the CCP.

August 13th, ~6 pm: S. Korean news reported that the Korean Ministry of Foreign Affairs had summoned the Japanese ambassador in Korea to protest the visit of the Japanese Defence Minister to the Yasukuni Shrine.

August 13th, 6:26 pm: CCTV News (央視新聞) critiqued Zhang’s apology. “Whether to take photos in front of the Yasukuni Shrine, or to attend a wedding at the Nogi Shrine, Zhang Zhehan touched the wounds of history, hurt the feelings of the nation. It cannot be blamed on “once ignorance.” Just now, a Japanese Minister went to the Yasukuni Shrine for “demon worshipping” (Pie note: demon, from guizi 鬼子), China firmly opposes to this wrongdoing of Japanese high officials…” (無論在靖國神社前合影，還是到乃木神社參加婚禮，張哲瀚都觸碰了歷史傷痕，傷害了民族感情，不能簡單歸咎為「曾經無知」。就在剛剛，有日本大臣到靖國神社「拜鬼」，中方堅決反對日本政要這種錯誤做法。。。)

August 13th, 9 pm: China’s Ministry of National Defence answered press questions regarding the Yasukuni Shrine visit by Nabuo Kishi and Yasutoshi Nishimura.

Not only did Zhang’s incident happened in August, 2021, it happened on pretty much the worst day for him in August, 2021; the latest of his incident interleaved the unfolding news of the Japanese high officials’ visit to the Yasukuni Shrine.

What I’d like to call attention to, however, is this: Zhang’s endorsements didn’t begin dropping until *after* People’s Daily criticism.

If the companies had been genuinely offended by Zhang’s action, why was the wait necessary? If their Chinese feelings were genuinely hurt, why hadn’t they moved earlier, in the morning of August 13th, when Zhang’s visit went on hot search? Were these companies also ignorant about history, the significance of the the Yasukuni Shrine? The Chinese government has far more important things to worry about than an idol, but what about these companies that had paid good money for their spokesperson? That watch the public opinion, the market carefully?

Even if they didn’t care about the war themselves, why hadn’t they dropped Zhang based on the expected public opinion? What does that say about what these market experts believed, or knew about the public opinion? What does that say about their assessment of whether their potential customers would, as their actual selves, stop spending money on their products because of Zhang’s Yasukuni Shrine visit?

Were the act of dropping Zhang, then, more an act of performative patriotism than anything else? Once the first company started, the rest raced to follow for fear of being the slowest one, viewed as the least patriotic one. Hence, the 5-hour storm of endorsements abandoning Zhang. This herd ... mob behaviour, in which actions were either not taken or all taken at the same time, was also observed in the timing of different online platforms removing Zhang’s works, and fandom content with his name.

A “bingo card” for netizens to cross out Zhang’s endorsements as the sequential drops happened. Similar cards for Kris Wu had circulated in July. 

Were WoH and Zhang’s other group projects removed because Zhang was unpatriotic, or was it because the online platforms (and the tech giants behind them) were trying to protect themselves? Youku explained WoH’s first-time removal as a technical glitch but then, as reports of other platforms removing Zhang’s content poured in, the series was removed again.  

How much is real when it comes to the thunderous online declarations of love and betrayal against China? 

Related to this: turtles may remember the Xinjiang cotton incident in March, 2021, how Chinese netizens harassed anyone who used, endorsed Nike. One may assume, with that outcry, that rage, that anyone with a reputation to keep, with ties to the Chinese state, in particular, have severed their ties with the brand.

As it turns out, the teams of the Chinese Super (Football) League, for example, have kept their Nike kits. The Chinese Football Association (CFA), which, despite being officially non-governmental and nonprofit, is managed by the State General Administration of Sports (國家體育總局), issued a statement on March 27th on Weibo that only criticised Nike’s “wrong actions in choosing its cotton source” (對耐克公司在棉花原料選擇上的錯誤行徑表達了譴責), and reserved “its right to further deal with  contract with Nike” (保留進一步處理同耐克合同的權力). It never cut off the contract with Nike: a 10-year sponsorship,  signed in 2018, which amounts to 3 million RMB (463,000 USD) in funds from Nike for each football club every year. The CFA statement was later removed from Weibo. Photos of the football players have simply had the Nike Swoosh covered up, or photoshopped away. 

Photos from the Shanghai Shenhua football club, with and without the swoosh (Source).

Life is practical in China … and darkly humorous, at times. As a Mao-founded regime should be, perhaps.

I got Asks wondering then: will our non-Zhang-related favourite stars and CPs, dramas and fandoms get affected by the incident?

At the moment, my guess leans towards a no. My basis is this: in the critique piece against Zhang, published on 2021/08/16, by 中纪委 Central Commission for Discipline Inspection—the CCDI, by the way, is the highest anti-corruption, rules and regulations body in China—I believe the reason Zhang was disciplined was clearly stated:

對於所有「拜鬼」行為，中國都堅決反對。但如果我們國內的公眾人物去靖國神社都不被譴責和追究，我們又怎麼挺直腰桿要求外國人不去呢？

“Regarding all “demon worship” behaviour, China holds firm oppositions. But if our own public figures going to the Yasukuni Shrine get no reprimands, no investigations of responsibility, how can we straighten our backs and demand foreigners to not go?”

This has led me to think the state has no ulterior motives in targeting Zhang: Zhang’s “sin” was limited to his visiting the Yasukuni Shrine as a well-known, public figure, and/but that was enough. And the punishment had to be given in a heavy-handed, high profile manner, given the “news “of Zhang’s visit broke out on August 13, 2021. The following observation may be my being over-sensitive, but in the timeline above, Zhang was reprimanded, and his first round of the punishment in full swing (dropping of endorsements), before the China’s Ministry of National Defence talked to the press, which happened later than it had to be (compare the timing with S. Korea’s). Short of removing Zhang’s hot searches—which netizens would’ve noticed—this ordering of events was necessary; otherwise, the Chinese government issuing a formal complaint against Japan for their Minister of Defence’s visit to the shrine would’ve co-existed on the hot search with the report of China’s own celebrity visiting the same place. I therefore believe the state’s reaction had nothing to do with how Zhang achieved his fame, the past and present projects he was involved in, the CPs he was coupled with. Other state agencies and media would likely be careful about not attaching these topics to Zhang’s case as well, so not to distract from the central message of the government that … the Japanese are very bad people in the summer of 2021.

(Whether they’ll attach them to the Clear and Bright campaign is another matter.) 

Another Ask ~ Will Zhang be able to make a comeback? In five years? Ten?

Looking that far ahead is difficult, but one thing has to happen for Zhang to return—the Japanese have to stop being very bad people according to the Chinese government, which isn’t likely to happen soon. The Japanese government has shown few signs that they shall soon revise their attitudes towards their World War II history  (Yasutoshi Nishimura, who went to the Shrine with Japan’s Minister of Defence on August 13th, is associated with a historical revisionist group), while China’s escalating military aggression in the Indo-Pacific region will be seen as a growing threat to Japan, likely push the country towards the right. 

And 5, 10 years later, Zhang will be 35, 40 years old. Even if he’ll be able to work in the industry again, it’ll be difficult for him to achieve the fame he has before. Also, just because the government no longer bans him doesn’t mean production companies will be willing to hire him; he’ll be considered high risk—policies of China are volatile, after all, and the decision to un-ban can be easily reversed.

(I’m so sorry, Anon, I wish I have a better answer for you.)

And... here’s a thought I’ll finally end this meta series with. I don’t see Zhang as the only loser in this incident. I don’t really see any winners in this incident at all. An industry is dangerous for its every worker if its narrative, its list of guilty is penned by cyber mobs and in the name of patriotism; if the accused cannot speak for themselves, aren’t allowed to grow; if its rules of appropriate conduct are every-changing (The Reporter in 2017 = OK; Zhang in 2018 = Not OK); if its workers are penalised not by their own deeds but their associations (the rest of the cast and production team of WoH and other Zhang-associated projects).

The think tank for the National Ratio and Television Authority (國家廣播電視總局; NRTA, ie, the Chinese visual media censorship board), in their criticism piece about Zhang, hinted at even rougher waters ahead, in light of Zhang’s (and Kris Wu’s) transgressions:

明星頻頻「犯事」，說到底還是行業內對明星藝德約束不夠嚴格。據瞭解，電影行業正在籌備全國電影界道德委員會，將對電影從業人員道德規範提出更高要求，並提出，要將明星藝德納入法治化的軌道中來���給明星藝德約束加一道法規之鎖，明確明星的責任和義務，將明星的個人行為與職業利益掛鈎。 “The ultimate cause of stars “getting into trouble” frequently is that the industry has not tied a sufficiently severe bind on the stars’ artistic virtue (Pie note: roughly, = professional ethics). Based on reports, the film industry is preparing a National Film Industry Morality Committee that shall raise the moral requirements for film industry workers. The industry has also suggested that the stars’ artistic virtue shall eventually be governed by laws, to add a lock of legality to the bind of artistic virtues for the stars, to make clear the stars’ responsibilities and obligations, to couple a star’s personal behaviour with their professional (monetary) gains.”

My interpretation of this: should the suggestions become reality, it shall be written in future film contracts that a star who commits an act that the state considers immoral will have to pay the investors the production cost of their projects, and possibly, the projected profit. 

To put some dollar signs to this interpretation: a high-profile star may work on one or more projects with a price tag in the order of 100 million RMB (~15 million USD); box office, merchandise sells, and long term profits expected from online streaming can raise that number by several fold. This is a sum that even the most affluent stars will have a difficult time affording—and that’s before considering the endorsements, for which current contracts already require the stars to pay the damages.

The key word here is that the offending act only has to be considered immoral, not criminal. Immoral acts range from not liking the CCP enough—an easy-to-understand offence—to deviation from the society’s 公序良俗 (“public order and fine customs”), which includes just about anything that disagrees with the state-defined mainstream values.

Stars are stars because they invite the imaginations of their audience, because they break boundaries: from the seemingly insurmountable humdrum of daily life, to something that can be much, much more.

Stars should, of course, be law-abiding; they should be patriotic. But a star who’s mainstream in every way? Are they still a star, something we regular people wonder about, dream upon?

Bind and lock, the NRTA think tank referred to these suggestions. It reminders me of a quote by the famous Chinese director, Feng Xiaogang (馮小剛), who, in 2014, complained to BBC—perhaps in a slip of tongue—that Chinese directors could be like “dancing with fetters” (戴著腳鐐去跳舞) when working with the country’s censorship system.

Yeah. It’s kinda like that.

===

The Zhang Zhehan Incident Meta Series:

PART 1  PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 <- YOU ARE HERE

[oumaheroes]

Stargazing

Word Count: 2030

Characters: England, France- FrUK

---

‘If you could go back to any era, which would you choose?’ There is a stone in-between France’s shoulder blades, something that finally tips the scales from being comfortable into not, so France rolls onto his side, cradling his head in his hand.

From his spot in the grass next to him, England turns his head lazily, the movement long and slow. His eyes are the last to move, fixed on the stars, and they find France’s with a sharp flick, ‘What?’

‘Are you too drunk to listen?’ France lifts a heavy arm and reaches across the small distance between them to brush some errant hair away from England’s forehead and lets it stay there, tangled in his roots. France himself is wine soft and slow, warm in his stomach and chest from both the day and the drink which settles within him.

England huffs, ‘More like drunk enough that I can stop pretending you’re worth listening to.’

France hums indulgently, far too jovial at the moment to search for any unintended offense, ‘oh, the lies you tell yourself. They do amuse me.’

England frowns, head still facing France and cheek pillowed in the grass.  Wine is not enough to soften him entirely, it seems, ‘that is rich, coming from you.’

France brings his hand down from England’s hair to lay it across his mouth, ‘I’m not starting anything with you this evening, I’m too full.’

England opens his mouth and, very gently, bites the meat of the pad of France’s hand. Just to show that he could and to be difficult, showing that he won’t go down without a fight. France’s small input in the ridiculous battle is to leave it there, refusing to give in. Eventually, England lets go and moves his head away, although not before pressing his teeth down just that bit harder. France reclaims his hand and allows him escape without protest.

‘What drivel did you ask me?’ England looks back up at the sky again, high and cloudless above them.

‘If you could be in any era again, any that we have lived through,’ France repeats, ‘which would you pick to go back to?’ He has caught England in a good mood, one where he has allowed himself to be seen, for a time, without anything sharp covering him. Drink has made him pliant and loose tongued and France, in a similar mood, is keen to make the most of it.

England rolls his head slightly back, considering the question, ‘How long do I get in the era?’

‘No, don’t do that, don’t make it technical. It’s not a difficult question.’

‘It most certainly is, running water always influences things,’ England’s mouth twists in a wry hint of a smile, ‘and it’s one thing to pop back to the Tudor times for one of the court parties and quite another to have to spend more than a week there. I do not lament the loss of hose and codpiece.’

‘I do, they made my legs look fabulous.’

England snorted and rolled his eyes, ‘Why am I not surprised.’

‘You’re avoiding the question,’ France twists away from him briefly to feel for the wine bottle they’d been drinking from. It had rolled away slightly, the slight incline of France’s garden causing it to move easily as they shuffled about and he takes a long swing of it before laying it between them, neck resting on England’s stomach. He’s past beyond the point of using glasses now.

‘I’m not avoiding the question, I was trying to-‘

‘No stop, you’re ruining it; I’ll go first,’ after brushing the grass underneath to clear it of stones, France returns to lying on his back, arms behind his head, and ignores England’s tut of annoyance, ‘I think I’d actually want to go back to the days under Rome, just for a visit.’

England sits up on his elbows and takes a sip from the bottle himself, ‘I hadn’t expected that of you.’

‘No?’

‘God no. I would have thought you’d want to go back to one of your King Luis. You know, peak opulence, decadence- all that faff. You still love the fancy balls and the clothes, and the needless tat that came with it,’ England takes another sip of wine and runs his tongue over his teeth, ‘the dances and the jewels, the silly little court rules of behaviour. The gossip.’

France chuckles, ‘you were so funny every time you were dragged along- so out of place! You couldn’t go more than an hour before letting your true colours slip free.’ England was never truly refined for very long, especially when it came to the Versailles’ court standards.

‘Anyone with a lick of sense was immediately out of place,’ England quips drily and lays down again, placing the cork back in the wine as he goes.

It sounds nearly empty- shame. It was a nice year and the last of the bottles that they’d brought out to the garden. Dinner had been a late, informal affair in France’s kitchen- homemade bread and creamy, locally made cheese with chicken. Simple and filling, comfort food for the both of them. The summer heat made them both unwilling for anything too excessive and the entire day had been spent doing lots of nothing much at all; England lounging about in shorts that France refrained from teasing him about lest he stop wearing them.

‘Yes well,’ France lifts his head and clumsily bats him in the stomach with the top of his hand, ‘despite that indeed being extremely enjoyable, I do mean it. My choice of era, I mean.’

England makes a soft noise that gently demands elaboration, a low rumble in the back of his throat but France needs no prompting. He presses a knuckle into the softness of England’s stomach and feels him breathe in deep and slow.

‘I’d love to have nothing to be responsible for again. Everything was done for me, as a colony- the way my cities were built, the improvements made to my industries, the negotiations for trade and commerce, everything. I’d like to revisit being a child, in the closest sense of childhood our kind has,’ France pauses, mulling that over, ‘Imagine that again, being small but without fear of being so. No politics, no money driven economy, no push for growth. We have spent so much of our lives racing to get somewhere, striving to be more that I can hardly remember what it was like to be nothing more than an idea, existing just to speak for the lives that called themselves mine.’

France turns and catches England watching him, eyes searching and heavy, ‘Does that make sense?’ he asks him.

‘No,’ England’s answer is immediate, ‘no, and yes. The desire to be I understand, but I detested that age.’

France smiles at him, understanding masked by the dark. England does not, and never did, like being anything other than in perfect control of himself. Relinquishing that to someone else, even for his own benefit, has never been anything more than a horror.

‘Well,’ France says, ‘that is my choice. I liked being looked after and I have so much to do nowadays that it would be nice to have nothing to do once again. Nothing more than wander about my fields and see my people, or visit a northern barbarian across the sea.’

‘Don’t talk about Scotland that way, you’ll hurt his feelings.’

France laughs and reaches down to find England’s hand, open palmed and curled fingers by his side. He intertwines his own with it and brings them upwards, watching as together they cut across to block the light from his house and silhouette into a tangle of them both.

‘So,’ he says, running a thumb across the skin of England’s knuckle, ‘what era would you choose?’

England sighs, a light thing but France can hear a yearning there, ‘Any of the years I was at sea. The 1500’s when I was first starting out and even up to the 1700’s when things became more regimented- any of them. To be able to just get in a boat and go, no one knowing when I would come back or even where I was going.’

France shudders, the idea of being out in ocean that deep and so alone chilling him. For creatures that revive after death, who can wake again and again and again as long as there is a body to return to, the ocean is a lonely, painful place to die. To sink lifeless into murky depths, only to reawaken there in the dark press of salty sea; most nations avoided it as much as they could, wishing to avoid the long, drawn out death choked by waves and forgotten on the seafloor.

England never had such a healthy fear of the oceans. He went out into thunderous storms and monstrous waves as if enchanted, unable to resist the pull of something untamed. England sailed off as soon as he was able, going out for further and longer than anyone else dared and losing himself in the harsh life of the brine. He was a different creature far out at sea, something so strangely alive and perfectly at home for a man made from the soul of the mountains and land.

‘You always were a strange one for the macabre,’ France drops their hands back down and finds England once more looking at the sky, the reflection of stars glinting in his eyes.

‘The seas never change,’ his voice is quiet and distant, ‘some things do change, of course- the boats we sail on, how we do so. Things shift on the sea, the lands we travel to and from are washed away and changed with time but the sea itself is always the same. I appreciate it for that, it is predictably unpredictable. Constantly refusing the press of mankind by being the one thing we can never truly understand, for all of mankind’s new fancy gadgets.’

England gives a sudden, dry laugh, ‘I used to navigate the world by constellations, now I have to travel just to find some stars. To the highest peaks I have, or deep in my countryside to avoid as much light pollution as I can. But out at sea they are as they have always been, the same things I have watched and tracked for thousands of years. That is when I can just be as I have always been.’

The sky hangs overhead, speckled and bright and now, France notices, startlingly empty, ‘I often forget that they’re there,’ France speaks to the sky, ‘Funny, isn’t it? How something so fundamental can disappear and mankind not even notice. How odd to forget that stars are there, then to not notice they’re gone.’

‘We are cursed or blessed to remember what’s past,’ England offers, ‘which one depends on who we remember for.’

They lay in silence for a moment. France feels the collected years sit with him openly, laying on his chest and heart like tiny weights. The ground pushes against his back, firm and unmoving, and he breathes in deeply, smelling the heat of the summer in the air. He is here. He is now. He is. Still, after all this time. He watches.

To exist is to change, to live is to evolve and move with the flow of time, but France understands the want for something constant in the flood, something that stays recognisable and the same throughout the years. The older he gets, the more he yearns for it keenly.

‘You’ve gone and made things serious,’ he lifts himself back up on an elbow, England looking at him without moving his head, ‘just like you to take a light conversation and ruin it.’

England raises an eyebrow, “Oh the lies you tell yourself; they do amuse me.”

His French is accented with a Norman dialect, a gentle dig and refusal to fully let France have what he wants and France laughs at it, at this one unchanging constant he is stuck with. He leans down to kiss him, hair curling into England’s face and hiding what remains of the night sky.

----

AN: Every time I try writing one of these small drabbles, I start out with a particular idea and tone in mind but gosh darn it they never go where I intend for them to.

Today we have ended up with this, two old men talking themselves in circles in the summer grass.

[astro-pioneer]

I can't stop thinking about knight!Dain only protecting one person of royalty that he loved and they both get cursed-

yeah, wrute it ❗😃

Your Sword and Shield 『Dainsleif』

The royals were the highest priority - "Protect the heir above everyone else" was his only direct order as the Twilight Sword. But yet, when the gods descended and destroyed Khaenri'ah while he did as ordered, both got punished. And now, both search the world for the other. | We Will Be Reunited spoilers | Angst to fluff (somewhat)

Oh lordy anon I just- ugh. This has been marinating in my thoughts ever since it was revealed all because I thought of ball dancing with him. Plus Dain is a beauty of a man who would treat you right and no one can tell me otherwise. This went a different way then how I thought of it but that's just because I can't properly write my thoughts lmao. Yikes I got tired of this for some reason lmao I'll do a part two that focuses more on (Y/N) travelling with Aether after the whole shebang happened so stay tuned for that (:

The Twilight Sword's job was to protect the nation and population of Khaenri'ah. But, at the same time, it was also to put the heir of the royal family first, as he was a royal guard first and foremost. It was so conflicting and, no matter which choice was made, there would always be a negative aftermath. Dainsleif was aware of that and told himself that he'd never allow his personal feelings influence his actions.

He lied to himself.

Soft music travelled through the big, barren room. Only two people were in there. They didn't perform any exaggerated movements like someone normally would doing a dance, but instead bathed in each other's company. "Darling, I feel as though there will be war in the near future with the gods and us. When that time comes, please put the citizens before me." If only the couple knew how near that future would be. Maybe he wouldn't have lied to his lover, too.

That following night, the blond watched as the curse bestowed upon him just moments ago spread from their back and up their neck. Just to spite Dainsleif even more, the gods made it spread down their left arm, the opposite of where it went on him. The pained screams of the other filled their heads, echoing whenever a moment of silence comes onto them.

Looking back at it while waiting for Aether to meet back with him from talking to Boreas, he realized just how twisted the incident was. He did his job as a royal guard; he protected the royal he was assigned to. After all, orders given by superiors always overruled the ones you originally had. And yet here Dainsleif was, donning a cursed arm and no luck in finding his lost eternal companion.

(Y/N) was somewhere in Teyvat - somewhere in Mondstadt, and the archons be damned if they don't expect him to tear apart this nation to find them. But, before all that, he has to accompany the outlander and his child companion to inhibit another one of the Abyss Order's plans.

"The first Field Tiller," a person donning clothes similar to those Dainsleif wears whispered to themselves, "forced to sit and face the reason it's origin was destroyed." They, too, turned to where the machinery was facing, gazing up to the floating island. "Celestia..."

The breeze erupting from the still harsh wind barriers of the ruins hit their face, causing them to close their eyes and enjoy the moment for a while. "Your creation was the topic of multiple people's conversation for a long time, Tiller, my family being no exception. I remember watching you in action; you flattened an area the size of these ruins with no damage. But, when mass produced after your success, the other machines were much weaker and less efficient. Perhaps that's why we fell under the threat of the gods." They spat out the title like it was venom. "If only they took more time with the future models and made it more like you, we would've been able to set them all loose into the battlefield.

"And yet here I stand in front of you, talking about all the 'what if's instead of a 'what now?' and acting like I can go back and change what happened to us. There are two other people from Khaenri'ah in this nation, but one wants to stop what has become of my people and the other is conflicted on the original orders given by someone I do not know of. While I do not know what to do. My darling is fighting the Abyss Order, and perhaps that is the rightful path. After all, this world has changed, and only a small few are not dependant on the Seven. That rules out trying to recreate Khaenri'ah. Besides, no one would react orderly to a nation without a god, and the citizens of that nation would refuse to work with the land ruled by the Seven. A war would break out all over again. Besides, my people have gone so far down into whatever madness they fell in that they probably do not remember what it originally was."

They knew nothing would be near to listen to their vocal thoughts, but yet they stopped in favour of silently reminiscing. The scent of despair, corruption, and bloodshed was nearing, and yet they didn't move. "Perhaps I've prolonged our reunion for far too long..." A smile that showed the pain of 500 years of torture appeared on their face.

Paimon held her hands to her face as the trio got closer to the Field Tiller, "Oh, Paimon's got a bad feeling about this..." And yet, they still went in, stopping at the Statue of the Seven before Paimon stopped them again. "Wait! Who's that person?" She gasped then, "Are they a part of the Abyss? Are they here for the eye?"

With one look, Dainsleif knew who it was. "I can assure you, that person is one of the last people you can expect to be a part of it." He tore his eyes off of them, turning to look at the concerned face of Aether and scared Paimon. "Well then, let us go check." To believe he allowed his front to drop just enough for Aether to catch. He clicked his tongue before leading the way up.

(E/C) eyes with primogem-shaped pupils revealed themselves to the world once again. The same as those of Dainsleif, Aether connected. "(Y/N)..." The taller blond breathed, forcing himself to not go over immediately. Who knows how much they changed in the 500 years they were separated?

"Hello, darling. I wish we could've reunited under less life-altering events, but..." The rest went unspoken but the two knew what they meant. "I do not know if the eye is still in here, but this is indeed the Field Tiller."

Paimon gasped, pointing a finger. "How'd you know what we were looking for?!" (Y/N) arched an eyebrow at the floating companion.

"An abyss mage left behind a talisman which was presumably meant for one of his superiors. It spoke of the Guardian of the Vortex and a "Defiled Statue" as well as the Field Tiller's eye. But yet, despite being reassured I'm not a threat, you still assume until given proof. That's good."

"'His'? I've never heard of someone use those pronouns for abyss mages. Or any, now that I really think about it." The smile was melancholic and filled with sorrow Aether only saw in the reminiscent ones of Venti and Zhongli. Paimon understood to drop the subject. "Anyway, use elemental sight to see if the eye is in there!"

Dainsleif's and (Y/N)'s capes waved in the breeze as Aether couldn't find the eye. It was on there, however. When it was extracted, (Y/N) couldn't help but analyze and compare it to the other tillers they themselves looked inside of. However, they didn't dare touch it or disagree with the decision to leave it with their significant other. A gem gleamed in the sunlight.

"Would you like to go with us (Y/N)?" For the first time Aether talked to them. "We're going to the place with the Defiled Statue if you were interested."

And just like how Dainsleif agreed to join Aether for any commissions with the Abyss, they looked into his eyes, "Sure." It was when they started the trek from the waypoint to the cavern that the two finally interacted fully. "I'm glad to see you're safe," their voice was the same tone they held when they spoke of the war of Khaenri'ah, going miles while their words only spoke of their feelings. Corrupted hands interlaced together for the first time.

[writingsbychlo]

fakers | alpha!void

word count; 13,813

summary; you just need someone. topretend to be your alpha until you can graduate, and unfortunately, the only applicate candidate is Eli, your best friends void twin.

notes; stick with me, okay? Void’s name is Noah in this, but he goes by ‘E’ or ‘Eli’ for his reputation. He’s Noah Eli Stilinski III, named after his dad’s grandfather since Stiles was named after their mom’s grandfather, just roll with it.

warnings; smut, a/b/o themes throughout, mating, marking, blood play, reference to harassment, reference to cheating.

The minute you took your seat at the lunch table, Scott’s nose was twitching, his eyes flicking to you as he politely tried to ignore the scent but it was hard, and you gave him a small smile in thanks. Your eighteenth birthday had been a curse, in your opinion. Only two months prior had you hit the big number, and you once reasonably diluted omega scent had shot up to incredibly potent, even betas being able to smell it.

By eighteen, most omegas had found an alpha, a relationship to be in and the scent of their mate would cover their own, their body reacting to the affection even if they hadn't been given a mark yet, but not you.

It wasn’t unheard of for omegas to still be single and unmarked at eighteen, it was becoming more and more common as the modern-day evolved, but it still sucked to be a high school senior and have almost every alpha within your vicinity leering at you constantly because their own pheromones decreed that upon sniffling out an omega who was ready for a heat that they should immediately jump on that.

Stiles slung an arm over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple and doing his best to spread his own scent all over you, not that it would help much, he too was an omega, but unlike you, he’d found an alpha. Four weeks before Stiles’ eighteenth birthday, alpha and deputy-in-training Derek Hale had shocked everyone by stepping up and asking Stiles on a date, the two still happily together

He did his best to spread his own scent on you as often as he could, but since your birthday the act had practically become irrelevant. Your friends did the best they could to protect you, shield you from the alphas that often tracked you through the corridors and attempted to convince you to go out with them, but you didn’t want any of them. What you wanted was to graduate, and go to college, and find someone who liked you for you, not because their genetic chemistry told them they did.

“You should get a fake alpha.” Isaac joked, your eyes snapping up to shoot him a false glare but Stiles shrugged beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“I hate to agree with the person who wears scarves in August, but it’s not a bad idea. Find someone who you can trust, and ask them to scent you until graduation.” Your gaze flicked to your best friend, eyes widening as you looked at him and he sipped at the straw fixed through his drink, his own stare unwavering as you studied him for any sense of a joke, your shoulders deflating under his arm.

“Yeah? And which alpha am I supposed to ask? Jackass Whittemore? Or perhaps that one guy over there who’s been undressing me with his eyes since I sat down?” Stiles followed your gaze, flipping off the boy with a protective scowl, a sigh sounding from him. The same sigh bounced all around the table, and Allison snickered, Scott shooting you a pitiful look as his girlfriend opened her mouth to speak:

“Isn’t Stiles’ brother an unbonded alpha?”

Stiles’ jaw clenched at the mention of his brother, and Lydia’s jaw clenched at the mention of her rival for highest GPA and grades. She worked her ass off every day for those grades, she studied and she showed up to every class, even when she was sick. Noah ‘Eli’ Stilinski skipped half of the days, was often put in detention for being caught smoking behind the gym, and got into regular fights.

Lydia hated that he so effortlessly managed to keep up with her and Stiles’ top averages.

Chatter then picked up once again as Lydia made a crude comment about the aforementioned boy, Stiles jumping in to defend his ‘evil twin’ - as Lydia so eloquently called him - and yet even Stiles couldn't help but cringe in the onslaught of bad deeds and acts voiced all around the table. Your mind drifted from the conversations though, a huff on your lips as you balanced your chin on your hand, the chatter becoming background noise as you got lost in your thoughts.

You watched as the blue jeep pulled up, silently cheering to yourself as you noticed two passengers int he vehicle instead of one, and you bounced over to the car, Stiles waving at you spastically with a wide grin as he yanked the key from the ignition, hopping from the car in unison with his brother. Your eyes locked with that of the second Stilinski boy, and he sent you a lopsided smirk, his eyes scanning over you slowly as he rounded the vehicle, slinging his bag up onto his shoulder.

“You smell fuckin’ fantastic today, sweetheart.” He shot you a wink, licking his lips as he walked past you and Stiles elbowed him in the ribs, a scowl on your face as the boy commented on your evident and alluring scent, but you took a deep breath, Stiles asking if you were ready to head inside, but you shook your head.

“I need to talk to your brother for a moment.” The pair stilled, your best friend looking at your cautiously and Noah glanced back over his shoulder, raising a brow at you and his usual cocky smirk was back as you shot him a pleading look, Stiles gasping beside you as he clicked in.

“No! You can’t ask him!”

“I have to!” You hissed, your fingers locking around the other boy’s wrist as you dragged him away, and he let himself be pulled along with a cocky look on his face as he followed after you, and you eventually released him, rubbing your hands together nervously as you avoided his gaze.

When you looked back up, he was watching you carefully, a coy glint in his eyes, and you swallowed thickly. “I don’t like when people talk about how good I smell. I don’t like being looked at all the time, I don’t like the attention.” His gaze moved over your face, his brows furrowing a little, and your eyes left his as heat rose to your cheeks. “I need someone to scent me and pretend to be my alpha, just until graduation. I trust you, I’ve known you since we were five, and who else understands the struggle more than someone who’s brother is an omega, y’know?”

You punctuated your words with a little laugh, shaking your head as you tried to steady your racing heart, your body feeling like it was on fire as you stood before the taller boy.

“I mean, it’s not like you want to settle down any time soon anyway, so y-” You cut your words off as you watched his fingers jiggle, his eyes directed over your shoulder, and as you turned to look, you noticed a beta from your English class gigging as she pouted at him, as though you weren’t even there, and your breathless laugh of disappointment was mixed with a scoff as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, never mind. This was a bad idea.”

His eyes snapped back to you as you spoke, his lips parted as you moved your bag back up your shoulder, one of his hands reaching out to grasp at your elbow but you jerked out of his reach. “Wait, what? I’m listening, I swear.”

“You can’t even give me your attention two minutes to have a conversation, Noah, h-”

“Don’t call me that here, someone might hear you.” He mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at his aversion of his first name. He dubbed it too old-fashioned and biblical for his tastes, choosing to go by his middle name ever since he started high school and you’d never bothered to get into the habit.

“Sorry, Eli.” The word was practically spat from your tongue as you held your hands up, taking another step away from him. “No other alpha would believe you were in a relationship anyway, it was stupid. I’ll find someone else.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply, choosing instead to walk away, looping your arm through Stiles’ as you walked into the school alongside him, never once bothering to look back.

The idea only festered in your mind, your embarrassment bubbling over as you thought about the conversation and the failure of the plan lingered in your mind all throughout your first to classes. It wasn’t long until Lydia had pried the information on your dull mood out of you, exactly halfway through first period English to be exact, and she’d given you a glare for bothering to talk to her academic archnemesis for a good five minutes before she caved and comforted you.

The rest of your classes were spent trying to decide between other alphas you could go for. Jackson Whittemore was ruled out immediately, he was a jackass and wouldn’t do anything to help you, and neither would any of the other goons on the lacrosse team. Other than the boys in your friendship group, they were all a bunch of sweaty assholes, and the alphas were the worst of them. The alphas you knew that were nice enough to want to be with were all with a beta and in happy relationships, and Stiles was the only other omega you knew of.

The search seemed to be entirely pointless, your options dwindling back down to none, and despite her attempts to cheer you up as she reapplied a layer of pastel-pink lipgloss in the mirror hung up on the inside of her locker, you were still in a dismal mood, and desperately trying to ignore the burning gaze of the blond boy down the corridor from you. As she closed her locker, she opened her mouth to give you yet another pep talk to help you get through the day, her freshly plumped lips sealing into a thin line as she glowered at an unknown source over your shoulder, and you turned in time to see the boy who had caused your morbid embarrassment of the day coming stalking down the corridors toward you.

His eyes locked with yours, his feet carrying him directly toward you without a sign of dodging or stopping, and your eyes widened as he got closer and closer to you. With heavy hands on your hips, he pushed you backwards and into the metal of the lockers, your body colliding with the cool surface as a surprised squeak left your lips, his nose running along the underside of your jaw, tipping your head to the side as you went pliant under his hold and the front of his body was almost pressed against yours, a wet kiss being placed to your jaw as he nuzzled into your neck.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your voice was practically squeaked out, and his hand squeezed your hips, before sliding around to sit on your back as he pulled your body flush up to rest against his, his arms snaking around your waist and his cheek rested against the top of your head. You were limp in his arms, shocking filling your body and he chuckled, the sounds rumbling in his chest and you could feel it pressed to your own as he dipped down, lips brushing the shell of your ear and hot breath fanning over your skin. “I said, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m scenting you, sweetheart. You’re not going to find anyone else to play alpha for you until graduation. Might as well be me.” You sighed, your eyes connected with Lydia’s as she wore an equally wide look of shock, and you lifted your arms, your hands holding onto his forearms carefully as you relaxed a little bit, and he rubbed his face into your neck one more time, before pulling back enough to look at you. “Lydia, you are burning holes into the side of my fucking head. Stop staring at me.”

His words were growled out, his eyes locked on yours and you swallowed thickly under his intense gaze, your lips sealed shut but your red-headed friend scoffed, the toes of her heels clicking on the ground in agitation, her retort being shot back without hesitation. “Stop leeching on my best friend and I will.”

He finally turned to look at her, the usual stormy expression he wore was plastered on his face and he rose a solitary brow at her, and she stared him down, unwilling to be the first to cower. “Why don’t you go on ahead, we have things to discuss. I’ll walk (Y/N) here over to the table when we’re finished, she won’t be alone. I swear it.”

Her eyes flicked to you, and you sent her a small nod, which she accepted, snarling at the boy still holding you tightly before she was walking away, her heels clicking on the floors as she left and the Stilinski twin turned back to you with a gleeful grin.

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” You narrowed your eyes at him, but gave him a lone nod in signal for him to continue with his words, and he nibbled on his lower lip, before jutting his chin out toward you a little as he held his head high. “I’ll act like your alpha until graduation.”

“You will?”

“You’re awfully surprised by my reaction. You did ask me, and you know how hard it is for me to say no to you.” He dipped his head down, taking a low sniff and humming happily under his breath, when you frowned.

“I don’t want you to say yes to this just because I’m an omega and it’s all instinctual for you to want to help me. I want you to say yes because you want to help me.” You mumbled, and he pulled back to look at you, his eyes studying yours carefully.

“I’m not doing it because an omega asked, I’m doing it because you asked. I do want something in return, though.” Your face crumpled as you blushed, pulling away from him a little as you stiffened in his hold, and he shook his head profusely as your mind spun. “No, not what you’re thinking. I’m a little offended at your reaction, but it’s not that.”

“Then what do you want?”

Your voice was cautious and unsure, and his grin dimmed into a small smile, his fingers reaching up to tuck loose hairs behind your ear. “I have a lot of college applications and interview letters. You have to help me apply, and proofread them all.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Your jaw dropped, before a wide smile took over your features and you searched his face for any signs of deceit, his features reading true and you dropped your forehead forwards to rest on his shoulder, a relieved laugh leaving you and you felt his hands smooth along your back reassuringly in slow circles. “I can’t believe that’s all you want. You’ve totally got a deal.”

He chuckled in your ear, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he pulled away, guiding you toward the lunch hall as you both thought over the bargain you had just made.

On your side, you had never felt safer than you did in this moment. Your best friend’s brother had his arm wrapped around you, his scent already lathered over you and for the first time in months, you didn’t have the piercing gaze of desperate alpha’s watching your every move. Unconsciously, you curled into his side a little more, the familiar smell of the boy you’d known ever since going for your first playdate at the house of the boy whose name a five-year-old you couldn't pronounce brought you a much-needed comfort. Noah Stilinski Jr had never treated you as a possession, or belittled you for your omega state. Perhaps it had been because his mother wouldn't allow it, or perhaps it was simply due to having a twin who was the only other omega in your year group, but he treated you with respect, even if he was a player, and it was only three months until graduation; you could survive until then.

On his side, he was holding you protectively close, the long-buried crush he’d held on you since he’d turned twelve and watched you bounce into the joint birthday party he and Stiles had while wearing a pretty and sparkly dress was beginning to poke its head up once again, and he brushed the tip of his nose against your temple, no idea what he was getting himself into, but he wasn’t willing to let any other alphas near you, whether the relationship was real or fake.

The next morning, you were anxiously waiting outside of the school building, Allison on one side of you and Lydia on the other as they chatted between themselves, the nail of your thumb caught anxiously between your teeth as you tried desperately not to bite it off, simply holding it there for reassurance. The scenting you had been given yesterday was superficial and had worn off the second you had changed your clothes and slept overnight, and you knew from experience with Stiles that it was a while before an alphas scent would start to really cling to an omega.

Eyes were back on you, watching you with steely gazes as both boys and girls alike around you watched don carefully, your heart racing as you waited for the blue jeep to pull up. When it finally did, minutes before the bell rang to signal homeroom, the dirt-smeared vehicle pulled up and haphazardly into a parking space. Your anxiety only seemed to spike as you watched both of the identical boys’ exit and make their way toward you. Stiles had a wide grin on his face. Practically bouncing along as his hands grasped onto the straps of his bag, and his brother walked along beside him, face pulled in a neutral expression, his hands clutching a small bundle of material as his own bag hung from one shoulder.

Your eyes were sealed on him, and he allowed the edges of his lips to flicker up in a barely present smile as he approached, his features softening just enough to ease your worries, and Stiles reached your first, his arms wrapping around you in a hug as he greeted you, before quickly moving on to chat to Lydia and Allison, shepherding the girls inside without even a glance over his shoulder as he allowed his brother to talk to you.

He stood closer to you than he ever had before, bar the previous day’s locker encounter, and he still for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, before he was making some form of grunting noise in the back of his throat, his free hand reaching up to take your bag in his hand as he slipped it from your shoulder, offering you the bundle of grey material he was clutching. “Put this on, and wear it until it doesn’t smell like me anymore, and then I’ll give you a new one.”

You took it from him, shaking it out and looking at the pale grey hoodie before you, and his brows raised as he watched you pause, before you were tugging the baggy material over your head, smoothing it down over your shirt, the oversized jumper hanging slightly loose on you, sleeves falling to the middles of your hands and you ran your palms over the front of it, smoothing it down and admiring the softness of it under your hand. Reaching over, your head snapped up when you felt his fingers brush along the back of your neck, scooping your hair out from under the collar so that it could fall freely down your back once again.

He checked his watch, fishing into his back pocket as he deemed the time to be appropriate, before producing a small and battered cardboard packet. Popping a single neatly wrapped roll from within, he balanced it between his lips, the lighter from within the box clicking a few times as he shielded the flame from the breeze before the end took up an orange ember and immediately began to burn down to ashes, glowing brightly when he inhaled. His hand dropped or yours once he had folded the packet back away, lacing your fingers together and pulling you closer to his side, the other hand with two fingers holding the cigarette on either side.

Letting out the deep breath he was holding, smoke curled into the air as he released it slowly, angling his head upwards as not to blow a mouthful of smoke straight into your face, and you were grateful for it, despite how much you may despise it. Instead of complaining, you chose to twist into him, burying your face into his shoulder and scrunching up your nose as the smell that clung to his clothes, knowing he must’ve smoked in the car on the way over here too, but his arm looped around your waist, holding you to him tightly and letting his fingers draw patterns on your back as you stood in silence.

It was odd, being so comfortable with him. You were well aware of his reputation, of all the bad habits he kept up, and perhaps it was just the fact that you were finally getting the physical attention from an alpha that your body screamed at you to get, but you were happy, and it didn’t feel wrong to let your own arms come up to wrap around his waist as you tried to cover yourself with his scent as much as you could.

You were grateful for the bell ringing, and you hadn't realised you were holding your breath as much as you were until you took a deep breath, watching as he dropped the nearly-finished cig to the floor and stomped it out, guiding you toward the building with slow steps. He could almost feel your hesitancy and nerves, choosing to squeeze your side in comfort to let you know that it was okay, and the action let a surprising amount of calm wash over you.

He walked you all the way to your first class, as he peered inside the classroom, glaring daggers at every pair of eyes hat scanned along your body lustful from within. “I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

“You will?”

He chuckled at your surprise, nodding down at you and shuffling to the side to allow other students to shuffle into the classroom and past the pair of you in the doorway. “I hate cafeteria food, but it’s curly fry day, so it’s not so bad.” He shrugged, dipping his head to press a kiss to your cheek before he was walking away, and you rubbed at the spot with the sleeve of his jumper on your body the moment he was out of sight, and you slipped inside to talk to sit in your usual seat beside Stiles, who offered you a pensive look, your thumbs up reassuring him that the plan was going well.

“I can’t smell you as much, the alphas probably still can but at least it’s not quite as..”

“Strong? Overwhelming? Irritating?” You offered, and he chuckled, leaning back in his seat as Coach Fistock walked into the room, scowling and setting up at the front, a coffee mug all but slammed down onto the desk as he mumbled to himself.

“I wouldn’t say irritating. You smell good, it’s just.. powerful.” He gave you a dazzling grin as you rolled your eyes at him, choosing instead to focus on Coach as he began to command attention with a range of vague insults and shouts into the room. Each of your classes had been a little easier, you’d found, as even when the alpha wasn’t with you, the jumper on your body offered you a little protection as he dulled your natural scent and mixed it with his own. Lunch was rolling around before you knew it, and you were adding an extra portion of curly fries to your tray as you lined up with your best friend, listening to his chatter about movie night and how last night him and his brother had told his dad all about the deal that had been made, so it wouldn’t be weird if anything happened between the two of you when you came over.

“You remember that this is just for the public eye, right?”

Stiles glanced over at you as he paid for his food, nodding at you with an expression on his face that read as ‘duh’, but he shrugged anyway, moving out of the way to let you pay for your own food.

“Yeah, but Dad said it might be a good opportunity to scent, you know? My dad also said he was proud of my brother - I know, I was shocked, too - he said my mum would be proud of him for helping you out, and I swear I heard him sniffle for a second. I called him out on it and he punched me.” That made you laugh, your friend glaring at you as the two of you walked back over to the table where your friends were waiting, and the second twin had stuck to his word, his face appearing in the doorway as he looked around for you, quickly weaving between the tables.

The seat beside you had purposefully been saved empty, and he sunk down into it with a slouch, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he glanced at your meal. “Hungry, sweetheart?” You rolled your eyes at him, pushing a tray of curly fries over to him as you shook your head, snapping the seal on your water bottle and lifting it to your lips, his brows furrowing as he looked at them. “You bought me fries?”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“We already have a deal. You don’t have to butter me up.” He mumbled, but didn’t hesitate in digging into the potato treat, and you followed suit, shaking your head at his words.

“I’m not, I just wanted to buy you some fries.”

He stared at you for a minute, his eyes narrowed on you before his shoulder sagged and his lips flicked up at the corners. “Thank you.” He paused, before leaning in, rubbing his nose along your jaw and running a hand along your back, making sure to be obvious for any onlookers that might see you. He sat quietly as you chatted with your friends, busying himself with his phone, texting and playing games, slipping outside for a while and coming back smelling of fresh smoke and burnt tobacco, before sitting with you for the rest of the lunch break.

Your days rapidly fell into a new routine that involved him, the days turning to weeks and the little things all became easier. Conversations came without effort to the pair of you, and he even made the effort to reach out to some of the others. Around week two, he started to talk and join in with the conversations at lunchtimes, and his number had become one of the most frequented in your texts list. The physical affection had become more natural, and despite how much he scowled about it, he no longer complained when you called him by his real name in public. It came to being after a very snappy “I have known you since we were five, I’m not calling you ‘E’ when your name is Noah!” to which he merely huffed, dropping his shoulders from their defensive position before allowing a small smile to break through.

To almost everyone's surprise, he’d managed to reign in his flirting to a few small comments that were let slip while aimed at you, and as far as you were aware, he hadn't been with anyone else since your agreement had begun. He was showing up to school more, and actually attending his classes, and the stress you had felt had been deeply relieved.

You no longer felt like you were being watched when you walked through the halls, or worried when you walked alone that a particularly brass alpha might make a move. Even when they did, as much as you hated it, Noah would step in at every opportunity he had, leaving you to frown at him and patch him up after he threw the first punch and started a fight, getting himself battered and bruised in your name.

His hand in yours, kisses being pressed to your cheek or forehead, became a staple in your life, and you quickly found yourself missing the touch, seeking it out as soon as you could, in every free moment. His efforts to scent you had become almost instinctual, even when the two of you were alone. You often found yourself with his hands on your shoulders when you sat at the Stilinski dinner table doing your homework with Stiles, or his body pressed up close to yours when he joined you to study.

When your month marker had rolled around, you’d had a hiccup in the fifth week of your agreement, one that had panicked you greatly for the future of your deal. You’d been waiting at your locker today, Stiles bouncing up to you with pure excitement as Noah fidgetted and stood stiff, a moody expression on his face. His hand had found yours and you’d leaned into his side, his body stiff and he didn’t look at you as you did, never returned the attention or made an effort to acknowledge them.

He had walked you to your class, but was still of a bad temper, his response short and gruff, growing in increasing frustration as he merely grunted and gave you one-word answers, and eventually, you had given up. Lunch was almost over when he excused himself from the table, going to swap out his books at his locker and you turned to Stiles, your eyebrows raised. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“He’s in an awful mood! What did you do?” You pressed, and Stiles pouted, sipping at his chocolate milk and frowning at you.

“It wasn’t me! Actually, it sort of was.” Your brows furrowed, and you pinched his arm as you encouraged him to keep speaking, a yelp leaving him as he rubbed at the patch, scowling at you. “I may have let it slip that you hate the smell of his cigarette smoke the other day, and he’s been on the patch since last night.”

Your eyes widened, and Stiles covered himself for the assault he thought to be coming, but your body slumped, eyes wide as you thought about it. Reaching idly for your bag, you swung it up onto your shoulder, abandoning your half-eaten meal as you jogged quickly from the lunch hall. When you found him, he was glaring into his locker, white-knuckled grip on the door making you think it may actually dent.

Placing your hand over his, he jumped in surprise, looking over you once before closing the locker door, leaning back against it and crossing his arms. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be having your lunch?”

“You gave up smoking for me?”

His body went rigid and tense, his lips pursed before he let out something between a sigh and a groan, shaking his head. “Fucking alpha instincts to look after you.” He was irritated by the action, and rubbed at his arm, your eyes closing in on the space as he lifted up his sleeve to show you the white patch stuck to his pale skin, and a smile found its way onto your face.

“You gave up smoking for me.”

He didn’t get a chance to respond, before you were standing up on the tips of your toes and pressing your lips to his cheek, your forehead bumping against his temple and he hummed, his arms wrapping around your middle to hold you as close to him as he could possibly get you. Your face ended up pressed into his neck, your giggle muffled by his skin as he squeezed at you, his hands holding you so you couldn't get away for him.

After that, the weeks rapidly flowed into months, the connection between the two of you only growing. Along the way, the lines between what you were and what you could be had become blurred, the affections you shared had spread to when the two of you were alone, even if you didn’t need to be scented. More and more of your trips to the Stilinski household had been to visit your alpha, as well as your omega best friend, and Stiles was still hanging the time he’d come home from Derek’s to find the two of you curled up together in a nap over your head as blackmail.

His kisses were now placed regularly on your face, his softer side coming out and only showing for you as he peppered you with affections whenever he could. At some point, you had shifted from your usual place between Stiles and the Sheriff on the couch to squeezed onto the lounge chair beside Noah, his arm wrapped around your waist. Stiles had smirked at you each time, until the week that Star Wars had been selected thanks to it being Stiles’ week to choose, and Noah had spent the entire movie mumbling jokes and comments into your ear, which you couldn't help but laugh at. Stiles told you to take the movie seriously, but you just couldn't.

An ever-revolving collection of his hoodies had begun to build up in your bedroom at home, and you regularly found yourself wearing them, just to feel comforted and closer to him. On the rare occasion, he would place a small kiss to your lips. Those times were rare, and the first time you hadn't even realised it had happened until a while later.

You had spent the day helping him write out all his application letters, one by one until they had all been sent off, the darkness having rolled in as the early hours of the morning ticked by, Stiles snoring loudly beside the two of you as he was surrounded by print outs and forms for GWU, the Sheriff walking through the door and staring at the three of you in your hurricane of sleepy yawns and envelopes, papers spread out around you.

He had offered you a lift home, choosing to wait out by the cruiser as you gathered your things and his son walked you to the door. It had been a simple gesture at the time, and neither of you had thought too much about it when his hand had cupped your cheek, his eyes dropping tiredly as he pressed his mouth to yours in a small peck, and you had eagerly returned the action, your body melting into his for only a moment.

At first, it had only happened again when you were alone. When you had been hanging out at his place, the two of you sitting on his bed and watching a movie on his laptop, or when he’d meet you at your lockers between classes when no one else was around. Scott and Allison were the first two to actually see you kiss, you hadn't even realised they were in the area when you had run up to him, waving a letter of invitation to an open day at one of your n his face before wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips meeting his for a split second before you’d caught Allison’s squealing near you.

Isaac had been next, and he was where the truth had really slipped out, because he had spilled the news to Stiles and Lydia, the former of whom had called you as he had dinner with his boyfriend and demanded you tell him whether Isaac was lying or not, and the latter of whom had simply started smirking at you each time it happened. Everyone else finding out had been a slippery slope, the two of you eventually having given up hiding on the occasional times you wanted to kiss the boy protecting you, or when he wanted to kiss you.

Some of the colleges you had helped him apply for had matched your own, and only two months after you had sent off all your applications, the time for open days and stay-overs at your colleges' choices had rolled around. You were nervous, to say the least. You had gone to elementary school, middle school and high school with Stiles, your best friend and your only omega support. The open days had been exciting, the parties thrilling and the people welcoming, and you’d found that even when you were alone, you weren’t looked on as an omega outsider. The fact that you were unmarked seemed to slip by without bother, and it only built up your excitement to go to college, to join the real world and find your place.

Your last college was the one you were looking forward to the most, and you were practically bouncing with joy as you held onto the hand of the alpha Stilinski, both of you having been invited down to this college for the look-around weekend celebration. Stiles had lent you the keys to the jeep, very reluctantly, and you’d driven down together, matching hotel keys tucked into each of your pockets to the room you were sharing, his fingers flexing around yours as he held you tight.

The activities fair was bright and colourful and loud, and you had already gathered a handful of coloured leaflets, most for you and a few for the man beside you, and he simply pressed himself up to you and stood protectively by your side as you socialised and talked to the owners of each booth, letting him place kisses to your temple and the sides of your head as he waited each time.

You had seen almost every stand as you made your way to the end of the rows, your eyes flicking over the last cluster to see if there was anything you were interested in, when you were suddenly jumping in excitement. “That one says ‘omegas’ on it, I want to know what it is!” You left his side, dashing through the crowds quickly and leaving him to follow, his chuckle barely reaching your ears as you disappeared into the swarms of people.

‘Single Omegas & Omega Support Group’

You swiped up a leaflet, flicking through the pages with a wide smile, immediately writing your name down on the ‘interested’ sheet and filling out your details. When you spun around to find your man, he was standing only a few feet behind you, his eyes narrowed on the sign as his hands stuck in his pockets, his once playful expression now twisted and sour, and he didn’t lighten up as you jumped back into his view with a wide grin.

“What’s up with you, grumpy?”

You leaned up to peck his lips, his head turning to the side as your lips met his cheek and you frowned, pulling away and looking at him. “Single omegas support group?”

“No, single omegas and support group.”

“Same thing.” He growled, and you stepped back, your eyes wide as you looked at him and you rose your brows, lifting a hand to rest on his arm but he jerked away from your touch. You couldn't understand his anger, and you swallowed thickly, tucking your collections of brightly coloured pamphlets into your bag, glancing around the two of you as you felt the tension between you build.

“I just figured it would be good for m-”

“Because you’re single?” Your jaw gaped, opening and closing as you tried to find words. You had never put a label on what you were exactly, but it hurt to hear him so quickly jump to that conclusion. In your mind, you were a couple, you had long since passed the time of dancing around your idle affections, choosing to indulge in them together, but apparently, your answer didn’t come fast enough for him as he scoffed, and he stepped away from you. “Right, I see how you feel then. It’s fine, ‘bout time I got my sexual freedom back anyway. Just in time for college.”

With that, he was storming away from you, your eyes watching him go as he slipped into the crowds, not looking back, and you merely shook your head, knowing he’d get over whatever he was hung up on eventually, and you could explain to him why you had actually been interested in the group. Instead, you pulled your itinerary from your pocket, unfolding the piece of paper and checking your schedule, choosing to give him time to cool down as you went about your day and continued with your activities. You figured he’d just catch up with you at some point.

Next up was taking a tour of campus living and sorority houses, and you had loved every second of it. You weren’t overly interested in joining a sorority, but it was nice to meet all the girls there anyway, and it was especially nice to get a real chance to look around the dorms you might be staying in. They were roomy, both the individual, pairs and group ones had a lot of space. Each building had large communal kitchens and dining rooms that were fully decked out, and they weren’t the well-worn and dirty places, but instead clean and stylish, they weren’t destroyed or gross but the sparsely furnished places were somewhere you could actually see yourself living in, and you were sad that the alpha you felt so deeply for wasn’t here with you to look around them.

A sweet girl in a green shirt with the university insignia was standing outside of the building when you left, handing out leaflets and chatting about a welcome party being held at one of the sorority houses, and you took one, smiling politely and stepping aside to check the time on your phone. Your notifications were empty, and you lifted the device to your ear after clicking on his name in your call logs, and it rang for a few beats before being cut off and sent to voicemail, telling you that he was ignoring your calls.

If he wanted to play that game, then fine.

Instead of lingering on the thought, you chose to check the address on the paper, making your way through the large campus and eventually finding where you were supposed to be, music pumping through the air loudly before you’d even finished walking up the front garden of the large house. You had sent him a text a while ago informing that you were going to a party, and where it was, hoping that he would come and meet you. Hours passed by, many drinks being consumed and many conversations being had but you never caught onto his familiar face. The lingering sadness of your argument faded away as you found yourself slightly tipsy, giggling with two omega girls you had found, before piling yourself into a taxi and slurring the address of your hotel to the driver.

The drive was short, or perhaps that was just what your drunken mind had left you believe, but you were soon leaning against the walls of the elevator and watching excitedly as the floors clicked up to your level, joy buzzing through you at the thought of crawling into the large double bed with the man you cared so deeply for, and putting this stupid disagreement behind you.

Your card swiped across the reader beside the frame, the door clicking open for you and the dopey smile soon fell from your face as you took in the sight before you. Naked, hot and sweaty was your alpha, buried deep within another woman, her legs wrapped tightly around her waist and his lips locked on hers as he pounded into her. The door slammed against the wall as you lost your grip on it while stumbling, and his eyes widened as he saw you there, but you were soon enough just backing out of the room, far too tipsy and tired to actually deal with what you were seeing.

So, that’s where your ‘relationship’ stood with him.

The door slammed shut behind you as tears welled in your eyes, and you blinked them away, not bothering to look back as you made your way back down to the lobby to request a second room for yourself. The morning brought a hangover and regret, sadness welling within you and the bed you were sleeping in alone felt cold and unwelcoming, when you should have been in the arms of the boy you had come with, but he’d been fucking another girl in your shared bed.

Eventually, you had dragged yourself from between the sheets, working yourself up to going to the original room to collect your things, and you thanked whatever higher power there was that he was still passed out in the sheets with his latest whore when you arrived, leaving you free to gather your belongings and sneak back to your new room in peace.

A hot shower had barely cleared your thoughts, and your eyes still stung from tears, but at least you were fresh-faced and ready for breakfast. You ate alone, in silence, choosing to text him and tell him in the simplest terms you could muster that you would meet him at the car at eleven for the journey home. Halfway through your food, Stiles had texted you, asking how it went, and you felt nauseated, abandoning your food in favour of calling him, breaking down in tears the second you heard your best friend’s voice over the phone as you spilt everything that had happened to him.

At ten forty-five, you returned to your room, gathering your suitcase and returning the keycard to the desk, thanking the attendee and making your way out to the car. The source of your emotional turmoil was already sitting in the vehicle, radio turned on with low volume as his fingers tapped on the steering wheel, and he made no effort to get out and help you when you loaded your bags into the back. He didn’t greet you when you climbed into the passenger seat, he didn’t even look at you, his jaw clenched as he kept his eyes on the road and turned the key in the ignition, silence filling the car.

His neck and jaw were littered with dark purple hickies, his hair still messy and he was wearing the same clothes he had been yesterday, the smell of cheap perfume still clinging to him, and you turned away, your body facing the window as your head rested on the door, and you chose to put your earphones in and crank up the music to drown out your feelings, not a single word being spoken between the two of you on the drive home.

Barely two weeks had passed since you had spoken to him, and your heart was aching for him, your body screaming at you to return to your alpha, but he was avoiding you at all costs. He was missing school again, getting plenty of detentions when he did show up, and the smell of him was wearing away.

It was clear that he was no longer your alpha, and others were beginning to approach you again, the freedom and security you had found when you were by his side was slipping away as you once again became timid and scared, nervous about the people surrounding you. Stiles was struggling to keep an eye on you more than ever as graduation closed in and more and more alphas began to desperately proposition you before you went to college, wanting to claim you and make you theirs, their natural instinct being to do so.

He was elated when his letter from GWU had arrived, and you had a small bundle of letters to open, including one to the college that you so desperately dreamed of attending, and he was busily setting up two glasses on the coffee table, takeout menus ready and a stack of movies loaded up for the two of you as he buzzed around, awaiting your arrival.

“What are you moving about so quickly for?”

“I forgot to set up!” Stiles snapped, glancing up at his brother who was dawdling on the stairs, and one lone eyebrow raised as the other stayed solitary.

“Date with Derek?”

“No, (Y/N) is coming over.” He stiffened at that, his glare fixed on his hyperactive brother as he scoffed, and Stiles looked up at him hands on his hips as he paused, an angry expression on his usually joyful face, and he tutted. “I’m not going to stop hanging out with my best friend in my home, just because you fucked up and fucked someone else.”

“Can’t fuck up something that never was!” He retorted, walking the rest of the way down the stairs and taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl Stiles had set out, and the former twin huffed, hands twitching by his side.

“You’re so fucking stupid, Noah.”

“No, I’m not, Mieczysław.” Stiles scowled at the use of his real name, watching his brother retreat back to the stairs, and though he knew it wasn’t his place to step in, he couldn't help but open his mouth, the words pouring out before he could stop them.

“She didn’t like the group because she thinks of herself as single.” His brother paused his ascent of the stairs when he was only two from the stop, and Stiles stood at the base of the stairwell, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m the only omega she’s known for her entire life, and when I went to GWU to check it out, I met this guy from an omega support group who was really nice, and it was an easy way to meet other omegas. She didn’t want advice on being single, she just wanted a chance to meet other omegas. I encouraged her to look for one of those groups too, because she’s going to need new omega friends when I can’t be with her, and you didn’t even give her a chance to explain that before you were hopping into the sheets with someone else.”

The news hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt as though he’d been winded, his body twisting to sit on the tops step as he looked at Stiles, not getting a chance to say anything when the door was suddenly being knocked upon, loud and frantic and Stiles disappeared from his sights to open the door.

“Hey, you made it a-” He paused, the door quickly slamming shut and he leaned down, peaking between the bannisters of the railing to see you clinging onto Stiles, his brother holding a hand to the back of your head as the other wound around your waist. “What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

When you pulled back you were shaking, and you didn’t notice the other twin lurking at the top of the stairs, too busy blinking back the tears that lined your eyes as you let out a nervous and relieved laugh.

“You smell like cheap beer, weed, and random alphas?” His nose scrunched up as he held you at arm’s length, and the hidden twin could smell it all the way from the top of the stairs, rage twisting in his gut as the word ‘mine’ played on a loop within his mind, unable to stop it from happening as biology took over.

“I was walking over and there was this group of alpha guys, they were sort of drunk and some of them were smoking pot and they just got a little confident, because my scent has been coming back stronger. They made a bunch of comments and came over to me, and they wouldn't leave me alone, so I ran the rest of the way here.” Your words were spoken through deep breaths as you tried to calm both your nerves and your racing heart, and both twins frowned, one filled with concern while the other filled with guilt.

“I should have come and collected you, instead of letting you walk.”

“Hey, what can you do? That’s just the life of an unmarked omega, right?” You joked about it, brushing off the incident as though it was nothing and it only made him feel worse, because he had abandoned you over his own impatience, jumping to conclusions and leaving you to fend for yourself. He watched as Stiles guided you to the living room, letting you put down your belongings as he spoke to you about getting a bath, and you never even noticed when Noah slipped from the house, boiling with rage and practically seething as he walked along, but Stiles did.

Your best friend ran you a bath, making sure to tip far too much scented bubble mix into it to ensure the smell would leave your skin, and he’d left a small pile of clothes out for you on the counter for when you finished as he threw yours into the wash to get them clean for you once again. You were feeling better, you felt fresh and rejuvenated and pure joy was flooding through your veins as the two of you poured over takeout menu options as Indiana Jones played in the background on the tv screen, the door opening and slamming closed shocking you so much you almost fell from the couch.

“You’re wearing my sweater.” You pinche the fabric between your fingers, having grown so accustomed to borrowing clothes from either of the Stilinski boys that you had lost track of which item of clothing belonged to whom, and your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a second, widening as you took in his bloodied knuckles, grazed cheek and a bruised jaw.

“My clothes will be done soon. I’ll give it back in a minute. I didn’t know.” Your voice was scratchy and full of emotion as you spoke, your gaze leaving him when he could only muster a nod in response, before he was taking the stairs two at a time and disappearing upstairs. Your jaw dropped as you turned or his brother, a smirk on his face and you slapped him on the arm for giving you the wrong hoodie, but your eyebrow raised too. “What happened to him?”

“Well, I think - I think - he got in a fight.”

Your face dropped at his sarcasm, and you scowled at him, flicking him on the tip of his adorably sweet nose and his face scrunched up at the action, his tongue flicking out to prod at the tingling tip of his nose, his eyes crossing as he pulled a face at you and the action prompted a giggle from you, but you whined at him as you encouraged him to tell you what happened.

“Fine! Fine. If I’m taking a wild guess here, I’d say that he wasn’t too happy about the fact that you got borderline assaulted by some random alphas on your way over here, and so he headed out and got himself in yet another punch up for your honour.” Stiles paused, glancing at you carefully, before continuing on; “He’s miserable without you, he misses you.”

“Oh.”

Silence sat between the two of you, and you picked at your nails, choosing to snuggle into the couch and watch the movie, ignoring Stiles’ burning gaze on the side of your head, before he snapped, pausing the movie and groaning loudly when five minutes of silence, bar the tv noise, had passed by and you still hadn't budged. “Oh, my God. This is killing me, please just go and talk to him?”

You looked over at him, your jaw hung slack and he fixed you with a stern glare, both of you knowing you wanted to, and eventually you were heaving yourself up from the couch, climbing the stairs slowly as you made your way to the bathroom. He was rifling through a first aid kit when you approached, and you clicked the door shut behind you, leaning back against it, and he swallowed thickly when he glanced up and saw you, pausing his search through the small medkit as he cleared his throat.

“Hey.”

He winced at the sound of his own voice, and you simply nodded, moving toward him and plucking items for the box, well experienced in patching him up after fights by now, and he simply allowed you, choosing to lean back on the counter until he was the same height as you.

“What are you and Stiles doing?”

When he eventually spoke again, you were in the middle of dabbing a fresh ball of disinfectant soaked cotton along his grazed cheek and cleaning it up, your movements pausing, and you dropped your hand to look at him. “We were opening college letters together. He got his from GWU and I got my top choice, y’know, the college we went to look at together.” He frowned at your words, but licked over his lips, nodding and putting on a fake smile as you went back to work.

“And how did it go?”

“We both got in.” You got caught up in your thoughts as you discarded the cotton wool ball, squeezing bruise cream out onto your fingers and holding his face, tilting it to the side so you could smooth the paste across the skin and rub it in gently. “It’s great, actually, it means I’m only a two-hour drive from Stiles, so I won’t be quiet as alone as I would have been at any others, y’know? He’s there if I need someone.”

“You never would have been alone.” His words were whispered, and you paused, silence falling over the two of you as you rubbed healing gel onto the cuts and scrapes on his skin, and you packed away the kit, putting it back in the cupboard once the box was sealed shut and the anticipation was killing him, his mind spinning as he tried to find words to get you to talk to him, to talk about what happened, anything. “You didn’t tell me why you wanted those leaflets.”

Your eyes narrowed on him as his eyes widened, your eyebrows pulled together as your jaw ticked in anger. “You didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, well, you didn’t come back to the room for hours an-”

“Oh, so it’s my fault that you slept with someone else in our bed? I’m so sorry you were forced to have sex with the hottest whore you could find because I was trying to give you space after you stormed off and ignored my calls and texts.” You were growling at him, his alpha instincts kicking up in both rage and lust at your feisty attitude, and yet he hated the way it was making him feel, because he was further fucking up what he had already fucked up, just because he couldn't find the right words to say. “You couldn’t even wait one night during an argument before needing to get your dick wet again?”

“I thought we were breaking up, or breaking off whatever we were..”

“Couples don't just break up after one fight! No relationship would ever last if they did!” His breath felt punched from his lungs as he stared at you, eyes wide as you huffed, cheeks flushed from your shouting and you ran a hand through your hair, because you had confirmed it for him, and he couldn’t help the smile that was forming on his face.

“We’re a real couple?”

“Well, I thought we were, but then I came back to find you in bed with another chick, so..” You prodded at his chest, and he couldn't find it within himself to be angry because his hands were finding your hips and he was pulling you closer to him, even if your hands did flatten against his chest in a very weak and rapidly abandoned effort to push him away. Your arms ended up crushed between the two of you as he pulled you in close, raising a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, the tip of his nose bumping against your own.

“I want that for us. I want that to be us. I want us to be a real couple.”

You sighed, your anger slipping away as you looked up at him, shaking your head fondly, the word ‘dumbass’ slipping out under your breath, as you leaned in, resting your forehead on his shoulder and laughing under your breath. A muffled voice came through the door, smug even through his warm tone, as he told you he was going to go over to Derek’s for a few hours, and congratulating you for working it out.

Once the front door clicked shut, the sound of the jeep starting up, his fingers found yours, lacing your fingers together, he pulled you from the bathroom, guiding you along the familiar route to his bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind him, he picked up a torn open envelope from the desk and waved it at you, your eyes taking in the logo, flicking back up to him, filled with hope. “I got in, too.”

You jumped into his arms, his arms wrapping around your waist as you squealed, his arms wrapping around your waist as he laughed into your ear, spinning you in a circle before placing you back on the ground, ideas and thoughts already spilling from your mouth. You still had all the brochures for clubs you’d thought he might like, and you were waving excitedly as you told him all about the tours he’d missed, that there were joint dorm rooms, and how maybe the two of you could get one together.

Slipping a hand into your hair and one on your hip, he silenced you, his mouth closed over yours mid-sentence and cutting you off as he pressed a loving and passionate kiss toy our lips, his finger straightening in your hair and on your hip when your lips pressed back to his with just as much vigour. Your arms wrapped around his neck, stabilising you as the depth of the kiss made your legs shake, his tongue tracing the seam of your own and you happily parted them for you, his head tipping to the side to allow himself deeper access to your mouth.

“You’ve never kissed me like that before.” Your words were spoken breathlessly, your eyes still closed, his too, his lips barely brushing against yours as he took a deep breath, and he hummed lowly, the sound rumbling from his chest as he squeezed at your hips. He licked over his lower lip, catching against yours too, and you chased his lips a little, a chuckle on his lips as he gave you a sweet but short kiss, indulging you just enough to gain a little sigh from your lips as you rocked back from standing on your tiptoes to on the flats of your feet. “Why have you never kissed me like that before?”

“It’s not for a lack of wanting to.” He teased, and your hands slipped down from his shoulders to grip at his waist, tugging needily on the edge of his shirt to pull him closer to you, a needy whine on your lips as he indulged you, pressing the front of his body up to yours. “People who are faking it don’t kiss like that.”

“I really wouldn’t have complained.”

“Good to know.” He smirked, dipping back down to once again kiss you, his tongue slipping straight between your lips to toy with your own, your body going pliant in his hold as the slow kiss took your breath away. Your feet were moving beneath you in stumbling steps, until the backs of your legs met the silky fabric of his bedsheets, and you tore your lips away from his, taking a deep breath as you did, lips wet and slightly swollen as you looked between him and the mattress. You’d been on his bed before, laying across it with books and laptops spread out around the two of you. You’d been in his bed before, his arm looped around your waist and your back pressed up to his front as you took a peaceful nap, and yet this context was entirely different.

His hands slipped to your jaw, guiding your face back to his, and his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks as dark eyes stared into yours lovingly. “Tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

You licked your lips, looking down and nodding as you tried to clear your thoughts, your hands tugging the ends of his t-shirt and lifting it up, your hands slipping under the thin fabric to brush over his skin, his muscles tensing under your touch, rippling as your trailed your fingertips from his sides to the happy trail covering the loosely defined abs under his shirt. “First of all, I really want you to take your shirt off.”

He grinned cheekily, his head tipping to the side and he let you push the material up his sides, before he was reaching behind his neck and peeling the top from his body, dropping it to the floor and letting you smooth your hands over the hard planes of his chest. He flexed the muscles under your touch, your lips clamped between your teeth, and his hands found the edges of the jumper that belonged to him, hanging around your mid-thighs and he tugged it up to your waist, catching your eye as he looked for confirmation from you. Lifting your arms up above your head, he dragged the material away from your body, a growl sounding from him as your body lay bare beneath the fabric, his eyes darkening and he skimmed his hands over your sides, a short pant leaving him as he watched your nipples pearl in the cold air, standing taut for him and just begging to be licked at. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“What I want.. like, really want, is to not go to college as an unmarked omega.”

A sound you had never heard him make before rumbled from him, the vibrations of it practically carrying in the air as the deep sound shot straight to your core and your whole body shivered as his face flicked with a range of emotions. It was borderline pornographic; the possessive, aroused and purely desperate noise he had made and your knees buckled under you in submission, his arm catching you around your waist and pulling you in close to him as he used his other hand to tilt your head to the side, allowing him to nip and bite along the flesh of your jaw.

Licking a wet stripe along the skin at the base of your neck, goosebumps coated your skin at the feeling and he took a deep breath, holding your gaze on his once he pulled back. Placing a sloppy and frantic kiss to your lips, he pushed you back onto the bed, crawling over you quickly and caging you in on the mattress, the tip of his nose bumping yours. “You’re my omega.”

Everything possessive in him made everything instinctual in you needy, your hips rolling up into his, your breath punched from your lungs and he met your rolls thrust for thrust, his cock hardening in his jeans, a hand on one of your thighs, lifting your leg up so he could slot himself between your legs. “Going to mark you up, make you mine so everyone knows. My pretty little omega, all mine.”

“All yours, alpha. Make me yours.”

Some kind of cross between a whimper and a groan from him was muffled by his lips on yours, and he trailed his kisses along your jaw, sucking and lapping at your skin as he went, ensuring that he was leaving hickies dotted along your flesh as he went, taking his time and holding you softly. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, your back arched up into his mouth, the rough pad of his tongue swirling over it, pleasure jolting through your body at the stimulation, one hand coming up to lace into his hair, tugging a handful into a fist.

Giving the other the same stimulation, his fingers danced over your ribs and sides as he moved down to slip his fingers under the elastic of the large sweatpants on your hips, wet kisses moving along your navel before he paused, blowing cool air streams over the shining trails left on your skin.  

“You’re not wearing any panties are you?” He grumbled deep in his throat when you shook your head. “I can fucking smell you, baby, I bet you’re just dripping for me.” Placing a light at the outside of your thighs, your hips lifted for him, feet planted flat on the mattress as he peeled the fabric away, dropping them to the carpet to join your top and his already there. With a hand on each knee, he parted your thigh, inhaling deeply and kissing at the inside of each thigh, fingers massaging your flesh as he worked his way up to your dripping core. “You want my mouth, baby?”

“Yes, please.”

“Anything for you.” With that, he dragged the tip of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, sealing his lips around the bud and sucking harshly, a squeal leaving you as your back arched. He repeated the action, twice, before he was settling more comfortable on the bed, his arms wrapping around the backs of your thighs to hold you still as he lapped at the delectable taste of your juices sliding from you.

He was taking his time, teasing your entrance and occasionally dipping his tongue into you, his teeth scraping over your clit and your toes curled as he slurped and sucked, your walls squeezing around him as his fingers dug into your skin. Slipping one hand up, he pushed the pad of his tongue down on your clit, rubbing slow and delicate circles into the bud and you tugged at his hair, moans spilling from your lips as the languid stroked of his tongue sparked a fire to start curling on your stomach, a climax slowly beginning to build as your muscles began to tighten.

With a particularly harsh suck, your toes curled, a whimper leaving you, your hips rolling into his face and he picked up his speed and force, your thighs clamping around his head, his hair tickling against the skin and you could feel his sharp jaw moving quickly, before he pried your legs back open as far as he could get them, growling into your pussy as the vibrations shot along your nerves.

Raising one of your own hands to paw at your tits, you tugged on your nipples, groping at the mounds as you dragged yourself into a climax, your back leaving the bed as you rolled your hips into his face, his name leaving your lips in a mantra, body shaking and tensed as your eyes squeezed shut. He continued his ministrations, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could, until he was pulling back with shiny marks on his chin and a filthy smirk, wiping his chin on the back of his hand before leaning over you and planting a hot and open-mouthed kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his tongue.

“You taste fucking delicious.” He whispered the words to you, bumping your noses together and running his hands gently over your body, your own finger catching around his wrists to still his movements and he looked at you curiously, a brow raised. Leaning up, you caught his lips with your own, nibbling on his lower one and he growled, pulling back to give you a mock glare as he took your hands, pinning them to the bed above your head and chasing your mouth, your lips meeting in a rough collision. “Such a pretty girl for me, all flushed and fucked out.”

“I’m not fucked out yet, you’re taking too long.” You retorted, and he huffed, pinching at your side as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, wrapping with your own as they visible played between your quick and needy kisses, your body already building back up as he slipped a hand up to swipe at your core, chuckling at the wetness that was already building.

“I’m trying to be a good alpha and look after my beautiful omega.”

“Well, could you look after your omega by fucking me senseless until I’m screaming?” His jaw dropped, a loud and unashamed moan leaving him at your words, his eyes only getting darker as he gaped at you. Lifting a hand from where it supported him above you, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tugging down your lower lip from a second as he licked at his own and thought about his actions.

“Since when did you have such a filthy fucking mouth on you, sweetheart?” You grinned, shifting just enough to suck the digit between your lips, a breathy sigh leaving him as you swirled your tongue around the pad, sucking lightly and grazing his finger with your teeth, winking at him and his eyes glazed over and went half-lidded as your actions. “I thought you were cute and innocent, huh?”

“I could be dirty just for you.”

“You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, and you raised a brow, taking one of your hands from the spot he pinned them too and dragging your nails across his torso lightly, before cupping at the prominent bulge in his jeans and squeezing tightly, his hips bucking down onto your palm.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” You teased, and he grinned, kissing you quickly before rocking back to kneel between your legs, popping the button on his jeans and tearing the zipper down.

“Tell me how you want it, baby. Tell me what you want from your alpha.” Standing up, he dropped the denim, palming at himself through the black cotton of his boxer-briefs and kicking the restraining material from around his ankles.

“I want it hard, and rough. I want you to fuck me so good that I’m seeing stars, and so I know nobody will ever be as good as you. I want you to mark me, make me yours.” He bit on his lower lip, dropping his boxers and stroking at his length, wandering across the room to snatch a condom from the top drawer of his desk. Tearing the top of the packet open with his teeth, he rolled the rubber along his impressive shaft, his cock bouncing in its stiff position as he made his way over to you.

“Nobody will ever get to know, because you’re all mine, for the rest of your life. You’re mine, baby, my omega.” Rolling his body back over yours, your arms looped around his neck, a quick peck being pressed to your lips before he lined himself up, sinking into you quickly and his jaw dropped as your wet warmth encased him, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“I think that’s just the fact that you have a massive cock.”

His arms shook at your words, a loud laugh leaving him and he fixed you with a loving look as he settled still, the environment around you being somewhere between playful and intense, hot and still relaxed, and you’d never felt more loved. Pulling his mouth down to yours, you kissed him deeply, your walls fluttering around him as you conveyed everything you felt, a sweet noise of approval sounding on his mouth. He returned the gesture enthusiastically, before easing his hips out of you, his mouth open against yours as he gasped at the feeling of your walls trying to pull him back in.

Leaning away, he smirked at you, pushing a hand up over your body as he pressed you back into the mattress, his fingers sealing around your throat just tight enough to excite you, flexing against the column of your throat, the edges of your lips tipping up in a grin, flashing your teeth to him as he rocked his hips back into yours, joint moans leaving the two of you. The pace picked up rapidly, the fingers of his other hand clenching in the sheets as he rammed his cock into you, the breath forced from your lungs with each slam he made into you.

Your walls squeezed around him, cursed hissed out between his teeth as his jaw clenched, a whimper falling from you as you watched the man above you pound you into oblivion. His eyes were locked on yours, a thin sheen of sweat on your skin as your name fell from his lips on repeat, your back arching up and chest rubbing against his as he fucked you.

Hiking a leg up higher onto his waist, he sunk into you further, quickly dropping himself down from his palm to his forearm, his nose bumping against yours, hot breath from his pants washing over your skin and you dipped your tongue from your mouth, licking at his lips teasing and he growled, his mouth slanting over yours as he slowed his pace.

Scooping you up under your shoulder blades, he pulled you back, until he was sitting back on his heels and you were perched in his lap, his pulsing cock buried within you deeper than ever as you sat on his thighs and your hands tightening in his hair, pulling on fistfuls. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your chests pressed together tightly as slick skin slid against slick skin, and his hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold as he bounced you on his cock, your eyes rolling back. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Tight and wet for me.”

Once the pace was set, your legs tightened around him, and you did your best to meet his movements, one of his hands slipping down to palm at your ass, short nails scraping over your skin. Pulling his hand back, he slapped down on your skin roughly, your hips jumping into his and you whimpered, pushing his palm smoothing over the stinging flesh and you pushed back into his hand, a breathless chuckle released against your mouth as he groped at the flesh, repeating the action as your skin burned and flushed red, the sweet sound of his name in a cry leaving you, and he moved across, kissing down your jaw.

Tipping your head back, your hair fell away from your shoulder as you exposed your neck to him, your stomach twisting when he licked over the slightly sweaty patch, scraping his teeth over the place he would mark you. The high inside of you was building, your hips rocking down into his as he assisted you. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

He swallowed thickly, slamming you down onto his cock and holding you there tightly as he bit down onto your skin, your body flashing with heat and pure bliss as you exploded around him, shaking in his arms as you came, your eyes rolling back in your head and the dull and throbbing pain of the bite mark he gave you was overruled by the feeling of pure love coursing through your body. He dropped your bed back to the mattress, an animalistic sound leaving him as he hiked your leg up onto his shoulder, loud shots and grunts spilling from him as he fucked himself into you so quickly that your eyes were rolling back and you were seeing stars.

Licking the pads of two fingers, he dropped them to your swollen clit and rubbed harshly, screams tearing from your lips as you trembled in his hold, your eyes rolled back as you came from a second time, your core flooding his cock with arousal, ecstasy flooding your veins and walls clamping around him. His body dropped down onto yours as he came, thrusting weakly into you to prolong your peaks as much as he could, your body quivering under him as you caught your breath.

Your arms wrapped around him tightly, holding his body to you despite the fact that his weight was crushing you and he made a happy sound, nuzzling into your neck and kissing over the mark on your neck, a deep sigh being let out before he pulled out of you, a groan on his lips as he got up from the bed, tying the condom off and dropping it into the bin before grabbing a handful of tissues, kneeling beside you as he wiped the stray blood from the bite mark on your shoulder.

He trailed a finger around it, a smile on his lips as he looked at you. “You have my mark.”

“Yeah, I do.” He chuckled at your words, and tipped your neck to the side so he could admire his work, and you shuffled backwards up the bed, his body following you, your head finding the pillow as you snuggled into the plush cushions happily.

“You’re perfect, absolutely perfect.” Dropping down beside you, his fingers brushed through your hair, smoothing it away behind your ears and you grinned at him, letting him adjust you carefully as he tucked the covers around you, a giggle on your lips as he fussed over you. “What are you laughing at?”

“You’re in alpha-overdrive.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, scowling at the smile on your lips as you let him fuss over you. “I’ve been suppressing my urge to go ‘alpha-overdrive’ on you for fucking months.” He settled himself under the covers beside you, his arms wrapped tightly around you, a yawn on your lips as you nuzzled into his body.

“I wasn’t complaining, I like it.”

“Good, because I’m going to be looking after you for the rest of our goddamn lives, little omega. I’ll be the best alpha the world has ever fucking seen.” He kissed at your cheek, arm tightening around you more as the two of you laid back, bodies aching and tired but thoroughly satisfied. “So, why don’t you tell me all about those college dorms, hm?”

“You’re going to absolutely love them.”

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 7:  Subversion

AN:  I’m gonna admit, I was half asleep writing the first half of this cause the fatigue hit me HARD once I got home.

Also, I forgot to put this up a few chapters ago, but this story IS on AO3.  The link is on the AOT Vampire Masterlist, but also right HERE.

I felt like I was missing something, but no matter how many times I looked at it, I couldn’t think of what it was...If it occurs to me, I’ll probably just find a way to work it into the next chapter, lol

Also if you want a good soundtrack for this series, honestly, all you gotta do is listen to the Forgotten Odes album by Eternal Eclipse, I always pull it up when I’m writing these XD

Characters:  Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin

Pairing:  (Eventual)  Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings:  Language, Blood, Death, Dead Bodies, ummm...idk, Vampire Legends?  Is that a Warning?

Word Count:  5391

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

"I've been trying to catch her sneaking out for weeks, now, Erwin, but it's like she knows when I'm awake and watching for her.  I can never catch her when she's leaving, it's always when she comes back."

Levi paced slightly in front of Erwin’s desk out of agitation as he stressed why, after all this time, he still hadn't managed to follow her into the Underground and see what she was doing.

"Do you at least know when she usually sneaks out?  The time, or the days?" Erwin asked calmly.

"It's always when everyone's asleep...and it is fairly regular.  Every week, I think, though the exact day varies."

"If you can't follow her, then you'll need to get ahead of her. Get down there before her. You know the window of time when she'll be down there, and you know the Underground."

"But I have no idea what she's doing down there. It could be anything--and the Underground isn't a small place where I can wander around and /hope/ I run into her."

"Then narrow down your search based off your theories.  We considered she might have family down there, so you would be looking at residences, or asking around about a woman of her description.  And your theory of the worst she could be up to--"

"Murder or treason.  I know the places you'd go for that--more so than normal, anyway," Levi murmured, mind already conjuring the worst areas in the underground, the places where the Underground's worst elements like to stalk the streets, the areas of the highest risk, the worst gangs, the shadiest deals.

The residence search could take months--no one was going to want to talk to a soldier, a surfacer, even someone who had once been a part of the Underground.  Not to mention, they had no idea what Y/N Frazier looked like, or what name she was going under while she was hiding in the Underground--if she was, in fact, hiding in the Underground.

Besides, shouldn't he rule out the worst, first?

"I know where to start," Levi said decisively.  "It's still going to take some time, though, because she's still aware I'm watching her, and she's good at shaking tales and evasion.  Not to mention part of it is going to be based on luck--that I manage to go to the right place at the right time without knowing where she'll be."

"You're good at what you do, Levi.  You'll find a way."

So began the unpleasant ritual of Levi going down into the Underground every night of every other week, all in the name of hopefully, eventually, managing to find L/N.  All it would take was one glimpse, one time seeing her, and he could follow her, learning from the mistakes of last time to make sure that he didn’t lose her this time.

And he could finally find out what was happening below ground--what had been happening for years since she’d suddenly appeared on the surface.

While Levi had made a name for himself Underground, enough so that it became general knowledge not to test him, he hadn't gone around looking for the kind of trouble that would have brought him to the places he found himself in, now.  He’d always been aware of these dark holes in the Underground, and on a few unpleasant occasions had to make a trip to one of them.  The worst elements of the Underground were found in these holes--she shadiest deals, the scum of the earth, the darkest corners with the most blood and carnage seeped into and tainting the earth around them.

Levi’s every step in these places was careful and quiet, his guard always up, his hood always drawn to hide his face.

Even with the name he'd made down here, he was cautious to use it as a warning sign to keep danger at bay.  Not only did he want to avoid sticking out and alerting L/N to his presence if she was down here, but there were always going to be the idiots who wanted to challenge someone who'd made a notorious name for themselves like he had.  There might be more than normal who wanted to test him if they knew who he was, people who thought that he was a prime target because his name still stood, but his time above ground might have made him soft.

A terrible, foolish notion, really, since his time above ground and part of the Scouts had only made him more dangerous.

He'd been coming down here regularly since his talk with Erwin, scouting the area and looking for any signs of L/N, whatever they may be.  Not many people down here were the talking type, and those who were couldn't give him anything about any surfacer woman prowling the streets.  The only thing they could tell him was to not wander these more dangerous parts of the Underground alone because people who did tended to turn up dead or go missing.

That wasn't news to him. He was already well aware of the dangers of these parts of the Underground that had spawned chilling legends even for the people who saw the darkness of the Underground daily.  He knew what he was doing was dangerous, which made L/N's presence here all the more questionable if he did manage to see her.

Levi glared fiercely at a man who'd been giving him the target sizing look after glimpsed his clean surfacer clothes.  The man slunk back into the shadows and Levi's skin prickled, his senses on high alert for any kind of ambush someone might be tempted to spring on the man leaning against the wall at a four way intersection.  He was keeping his head down to keep his face well shielded, but his eyes were constantly flickering around to take in his surroundings, to watch every figure that passed or came down one of the alleys, tense and ready for a fight every time someone came close to him.

This search was slow work, but with no hint to L/N’s motivations for being down here besides the scent of blood on her cloak, it was the best option he had.

A familiar, dark robed figure flashed by the opposite end of the alley on his right, and Levi straightened, disbelief flashing through him.  Surely that hadn’t been…

Before he lost her in his disbelief, Levi moved quickly through the alley to at least get her within his sights, being mindful not to get too close, even though he needed to at least be able to confirm that it was her.

Sticking to the shadows, Levi peered around the corner of the alley, just enough so he could see the cloaked figure and watch them as they continued down the path at a fairly leisurely pace, as if they were strolling along the lakeside instead of through one of the most dangerous parts of the Underground.

He was fairly certain that was her cloak.  It was the right color, and a quick glance down revealed that yes, it was long enough to drag along the ground like hers did, but at the moment it was gathered and tucked into the waist to keep it from dragging through the filth, keeping it just above the ankles instead.

And those boots were dark brown, leather, suspiciously similar to the Scout’s uniform--even though he couldn’t see the rest from this angle, he was willing to bet they went up to the knee.  The height was right, the posture seemed militaristic--it was a hard thing to shake, especially when still in active duty and so soon after graduating from the cadets, to boot.  Levi held his breath, watching intently and hoping for something a bit more defining that could give him one more bit of evidence to convince him it was her, besides this gut feeling of his.

She took a turn, and while she kept her head down, hood hiding her face, he saw a flash of hair, and glimpsed the civilian clothes underneath--

Civilian clothes he knew were hers because of the day he’d gone through her stuff and saw what she had.  She didn’t have much, so it was easy to tell this was one of the four pairs she owned.

Not wanting to lose her like he had that first night, Levi hurried forward, keeping his steps as quiet as possible.  He had to give her more space then he was used to giving someone that he tailed--he hadn’t forgotten how during the expedition, she seemed to have immensely attuned senses, with how quickly and easily she could pick up on what no one else could see.  He still didn’t want to lose her because he fell too far behind, but he had to be careful--something kept tipping her off to his presence, and while he didn’t know what, he had to control everything he could and make it harder for her to notice his presence.  Distance was his friend, right now.

It was hard, trying to trail someone while having to put so much distance between them that she frequently turned out of sight, but he kept it up, heart pounding in anticipation as his mental map of the area tried to come up with where she was heading.  Right now, it just felt like she was aimlessly wandering, like there was no real direction to where she was going.  What the hell was she doing?

After several minutes of following her around like this, Levi started to grow impatient, wondering if she was aware he was following her and was just walking random places until he got bored and left.  If anything, it was more likely to make him confront her.

Except he needed to see what she was really doing down here, and if she was aware he was following her, that wasn’t going to happen.

Another shadowy figure entered their line, in front of Levi but behind L/N.  It was a man, staying far enough back that he clearly wasn’t walking with her--another tail.  Someone with more sinister intentions, too, Levi would guess, by the way he seemed to be stalking her.  With how far back Levi was, he hadn’t been noticed by this new party, but he was close enough that Levi was certain L/N had noticed them.

Except...she wasn’t trying to shake them.  She should have been able to do it with ease after she had lost Levi so easily that first night, but she didn’t do anything differently.  Her pace remained the same, unhurried and with no real direction, even as the intruder got gradually closer.

What the hell?

Was he wrong?  Was it someone she knew that she was meeting up with?  No, that looked like something else, Levi knew exactly what this was, he’d seen it enough times to recognize when someone was about to get jumped.

On the other hand...this was perfect for him.  Horrible as the initial thought might have been, if he tailed her tail, it put plenty of distance between himself and L/N, and as long as her tail didn’t lose her, even with her completely out of sight he wouldn’t lose track of her.  And if something went wrong, well, he was right here.

Levi shifted his cloak aside at the waist, turning slightly and waiting a few moments before he fired the cables into the nearest building, using it to get onto the roofs and nothing more.  The rest could be on foot, no more use of the gear.  ODM had a very distinct sound any soldier who had been around them as long as L/N had would recognize instantly, so he didn’t dare use it any more times until he’d found what he was looking for.  He didn’t know how keen those remarkable senses of hers were, if it was her hearing or her sight or hell, even her nose like Miche, that had allowed her to spot those Titans.  Because he didn’t know how, he couldn’t risk it.

Now with the advantage of a higher vantage point, Levi followed L/N’s tail from quite a distance, able to see him further and more comfortably from so high up, his footsteps still light and silent even though he was alone on these rooftops.

Being up here reminded him of several things he hadn’t fully realized when he’d lived down here, or that he’d learned to ignore or had forgotten in his time above ground.  How there was no wind down here, which was disconcerting after so long above ground with fresh air and cool breezes.  How dark it really was, even with the orange glow of firelight from homes, impacting his visibility and making it hard to pick out details from a distance.  And the stench--he’d been blocking it out, something he’d trained himself to do down here when he wasn’t in his own space that he could keep clean, but now that he was higher up and not in the thick of the shit, the air wasn’t quite as thick with it.

Slightly.  Just barely.

The man he was following sped up and took a sudden turn into a narrow alley, causing Levi to speed up his step as well, keeping an eye on the opposite end of the alley in case he exited the alley before Levi could reach it.  Crouched low so that he wouldn’t be spotted if someone happened to look up, Levi reached the edge of the building before the alley, his hand placed lightly on the dirt-covered edge as he peered over with care, trying to lean far enough he could see but where he couldn’t be seen, or at least would hardly be seen.  L/N’s tail hadn’t left the alley, so they should be--

Before the alley became visible, Levi realized there were no sounds coming from the alley--no sounds of a fight, no drip of blood, no talking, nothing.  If her tail had caught up to her, there should have been /something/ coming from the alley below.

A few seconds more, and he had visual confirmation that the alley was empty, even though he hadn’t seen anyone leave it from either end.

Levi kept himself calm, not allowing himself to even worry about losing sight of them--he didn’t have the time for that.  Clearly he’d been far enough behind that he’d missed something that had happened.  Maybe they had cut through the building opposite the one he was standing on.  There were no sounds coming from there, either--it was silent as the grave in this part of the city, unsettlingly enough.  But it let him know they weren’t simply hiding in one of the buildings beneath him.

He knew this area--he knew the Underground, had grown up here, walked these streets or at least mapped out in his mind the best and worst places for all kinds of situations.  He could figure out what had happened.  Whether she got the drop on her tail or her tail had successfully jumped her, if they weren’t here they would have gone somewhere discreet, somewhere private that was also nearby.  Not a residence, and anything that was dilapidated beyond even entry wouldn’t work.  What was the best spot for that criteria that was also nearby, close enough it could be quickly ducked into without anyone noticing?

Levi jumped over the edge of the building and dropped back down into the mud, knees bent to absorb the impact before he quickly shifted, navigating the streets quickly and with a purpose as he closed in on the building that came to mind.  He was still careful to be quiet and stealthy lest he spook L/N and lose his chance, but he was now running out of time--the longer they were out of sight, the greater the chance he would fail to see what was happening.  And he’d come so close, he couldn’t let the opportunity slip past him again.

Her being in trouble didn’t even cross his mind--he knew she could have shaken that tail if she wanted to, and she had beaten him in a sparring match.  Even if that tail jumped her, he doubted she would be the one in trouble.

*Reader’s POV*

The one thing you hated the most about coming to the Underground to hunt was the smell.  With how sensitive your senses were, it was absolutely horrid for you.  It had taken all of your focus and much of your time when you’d first come down here to learn how to block that foul smell out, though usually it involved handicapping your sense of smell altogether--except for with blood.  Blood always pierced through any mental block you’d constructed for yourself.

Still, you were down one sense when you came down here to hunt, refusing to breathe through your nose so you wouldn’t become nauseous, sickened by the stench in the air.

The only time that changed down here was when you fed--when the scent of blood filled your every breath with your teeth latched into your most recent kill, warm at first but growing gradually colder as you drained the life from them, a hand over their mouth to muffle any sound or screams until they could make them no more.

Of course you had known about the shady individual tailing you--you had wandered aimlessly in one of the worst parts of the Underground specifically so you could draw someone out, could lure in one of the many victimizers that lurked in these dark corners and turn the tables on them, making their chosen path of victimizing and terror a fatal one.  As soon as he entered the dark, isolated alley that you had turned into, you had grabbed him and dashed away with that inhuman speed of yours, pulling him into the nearest abandoned, unowned building where you immediately sank your teeth into him to satiate the hunger that had started to claw at you once again.

Hidden in the darkest corner of the abandoned building, the man had stopped moving beneath you, body turning cold, though from experience you knew he still had more blood to give.  You were going to take it all, so it would last you just a little while longer before you had to delve back into the Underground’s cesspool for a fresh kill to satiate the hunger again after it returned.

By now, this was normal for you.  You had been doing it for decades, and had long worked out your feelings over the moral implications of it all.  This was just your way of life, how you survived.  And it would continue to be for years and years to come.

One thing about scents down here--there was no wind to carry them away or towards you.  So when you picked up on someone’s scent, it usually meant they were close...very close.  Especially since you went out of your way to block scents down here unless you were in the middle of a feed, like right now.

As such, you stiffened when you caught the beginning traces of a familiar scent, one that was usually carried towards you on a breeze and let you know you were being watched.  Tea leaves, cleanliness or cleaning products, hints of mint that might have just been a figment of your own imagination because it was something you associated with a clean smell.

Levi.  And if you were catching his scent strongly enough for it to pierce through the blood you were feeding off, then he was dangerously close.

Immediately, you tried to gulp down every last drop you could, wanting to still finish so you wouldn’t have to come back down here so soon, even though your instincts were yelling at you to get out of here before he found you.  As a result of your suddenly rushed attempts to finish your meal, you made a bit more of a mess than you usually did.  Blood smeared across your face and dribbled down onto your shirt, some unfortunately falling to the ground below as your teeth tore into the man’s neck in an attempt to get this last bit to gush out.

You could hear him, he was just outside the building, you couldn’t wait any longer, you’d already waited too long.

How much had he seen?  How long had he been onto you?  How had he found you?

You could worry about that when you were safely back at the Scout’s headquarters and in the process of cleaning up any evidence you’d ever been to the Underground, right now, you had to leave.

Now you didn’t even have time to try and hide the body.

Teeth unlatching from the man’s neck, hood pulled low over your head to hide all of your features, you finally bolted, heading for the opposite side as you heard the door open, worried that you still had been too late, that he might have seen your hasty exit, or at least a flash of your cloak disappearing around the corner of the open doorway.

There was no chance to take it back now.  The best you could do was damage control and dig in your heels.  He might have seen your cloak, maybe, but as far as you knew, he had no way of knowing it was you.  No definitive way, anyway.  He hadn’t seen your face, hadn’t seen any defining features.  As far as you were aware, he’d only seen your cloak.  You still had a chance.  Especially if you cleaned your clothes fast enough and thoroughly enough there wasn’t a trace of blood or the Underground on them.

Heart pounding as you attempted to keep yourself calm so you could act rationally and not tip your hand and give yourself away by panicking, you raced back to the surface to start disposing of evidence in the safety of your quarters.

*Levi’s POV*

Levi tried to be quick when he opened the door, intending to catch L/N in the middle of whatever was happening in here and then act accordingly.  As far as he was aware, he’d acted fast enough and quietly enough he should have gotten the drop on her, even with that apparent sixth sense of hers that had allowed her to avoid him thus far.  The door swung open, and he saw a blur of motion--a blur he tried to write off as simply his eyes still adjusting to the scene at first--and the flash of a dark cloak disappearing around the corner.

Levi’s eyes widened at the realization that blur or at least the cloak was L/N fleeing from the scene, a ‘Tch!’ escaping him as he dashed across the abandoned building to try and make it out the other side before she could disappear again, hand on the edge of the doorway as he slid out into the alley on the other side.

Nothing.

He rushed to the mouth, hoping that maybe she had just turned out of sight, that he wasn’t about to lose her again like he had the first time he’d followed her.

Again, nothing.  Not even the sound of retreating footsteps.  She was just...gone, like the first time.

“Shit!”

Swearing loudly to himself, with the sound surprisingly disconcerting when it was thrown out into the silent streets, Levi turned back to the abandoned building, the only thing he had now that L/N had fled.

She had fled, which meant that this time she might have left something behind for him to find in her haste to leave.  People got sloppy when they were in a rush, and he was going to take full advantage of it.

Giving one last frustrated look down the deserted street, Levi doubled back to the abandoned building she had been inside, standing in the middle of the room as his eyes did a quick roam over his surroundings, looking for anything out of place, anything out of the ordinary.

Over in a dark corner, there was a mass, some kind of shape that looked distorted and unlike any kind of furniture or item found in an abandoned building like this.  It wasn't moving, but Levi still approached with caution, the dark shape slowly taking form as Levi approached, gradually becoming clearer as Levi silently came closer.

It was a body.  The tail he'd been following, from the looks of it, though Levi still didn't have a cause of death.  The body was distorted and lying unnaturally, head bent at an odd angle--not broken, just left in an odd position--and it was lying face down, as if it had been dropped in a rush.

He had interrupted something.  The question now was what had he interrupted.  His gaze had already darkened with the realization she'd left a body behind, but whether this had been intentional or self-defense remained to be seen.  The motive, her intentions, were largely going to affect how he reacted.

Levi turned the body over with his foot and froze, staring at the man’s throat.  It was ripped out, like an animal had sunk its teeth all the way in but had been startled into tearing away before it was ready, bringing half the man’s throat with it.  Yet, despite the gruesome sight, there were only a few drops of blood on the ground beneath the body, a couple light smears around the wound itself.  When Levi crouched down to touch the body, it was ice cold against his fingers.  Algor mortis shouldn’t have even started yet, the man had hardly been dead for a few moments, but there was next to no blood despite his manner of death, the body lacked all warmth--the warmth shouldn’t have drained from him for at least a half hour.

There should have been blood all over this place--should have still been some blood in him draining to the parts of his body lying on the ground.  And yet…

A memory was making its way unbidden to the front of his mind, whispering sinister, impossible, dark thoughts into his mind as Levi stared at the dead man's throat.  A memory of a legend Kenny once tried to scare him with, one he had dismissed as nonsense and scoffed at the impossible tale.

A tale about an immortal creature that plagued the Underground as long as there had been an Underground, choosing the miserable place because of its darkness and isolation from the sun, and its plethora of people that no one would even care if someone went missing every now and then.  An undead demon with glowing red eyes, the last thing a man saw before it feasted on his blood and drained the life out of him, leaving his empty body lying in the street with his throat ripped open.

Kenny had told it to him once to scare him, to keep him from getting too cocky and thinking he was untouchable.  And Levi had called him out on it, called it the bullshit he'd been so sure that it was.  There was no such thing as demons or bloodsucking monsters.  There were real monsters in the world, but not of this dark, fantastical variety.

And Kenny had taught him the lesson that had led him here.  And made him a bit more wary of the darker corners of the world.

"Maybe not demons...or maybe there are. There's Titans above ground, right?  Why wouldn't we have our own brand of monster down here?"

Kenny scratched his chin.  "Whether you believe in the demon part or not, there's always a little truth to every legend.  At the least, there's probably a killer somewhere down here with a signature like that who caused the stories."

Levi looked dubiously at Kenny. "Yeah?  How do I know they're not just legends about your murders."

"Because, Runt.  I slit throats, I don't rip 'em out."

Levi felt his blood run cold, chilling him to the core.

What he’d witnessed...she had not been a target, she had never been someone’s prey; she had been the hunter luring in an unsuspecting victim.

How long had she been doing this?  A couple years at least, going off how long she'd been sneaking out to the Underground, but it probably went on before that, before she joined the military, before she even showed up on the surface.  When he'd caught the smell of blood on her cloak he hadn't expected this to be the source.

“I...conduct blood rituals to achieve perfection.”

That deadpan delivery at the table in the mess hall--had she been secretly mocking them?  Or, more accurately, secretly mocking him, the one trying to figure out what she was hiding?

Was she...even human?

It was insane, but so was the thought of the empty grave before he’d opened that coffin.  It was madness, but it fit, it made things that had seemed alien suddenly belong in this greater picture.  Where else would all this blood have gone, especially with how quickly she had to leave because of his interruption?  How else would she have these senses that told her when Levi was near--that allowed her to know when she was being followed when it should have been impossible, that allowed her to see him in detail in the shadows from a distance yet still draw a perfect portrait, and had made her aware of the Titans before anyone else?  That strength and ease in all of her physical requirements as a soldier had to have come from somewhere, like Levi’s, but this hadn’t been what he was thinking.

And then there was the undead thing, the immortal thing, from the story he’d heard as a child.

No, no that was pushing it too far.  That she might not be human was a hard enough pill to swallow, even when he had his own superhuman abilities and lived in a world of Titans.  He was not a superstitious person, and this was a hard thought to even entertain, let alone to take seriously.  Even when he was staring at a corpse that strongly suggested the truth of the tale.

Even if it would explain how Y/N Frazier crawled out of her grave when it was supposed to be humanly impossible.  Even though it smoothed away the question of how Y/N Frazier and Y/N L/N were connected by suggesting they were the same person.

No matter what the full truth was, he was at a point where he had to confront her either way, for everyone’s safety.  He might be the only one who could match her, physically, and even then he’d have to be extra careful about his approach, because she could still overpower him if he wasn’t careful.  At the very least, she was a murderer, a serial killer who hadn’t stopped even after joining the Scouts and was still regularly killing, and somewhere he used to live, no less.  He had hated living down here, but part of him still took that personally.

At the worst, though, she was a monster of shadowy legend.  One that preyed on humankind, like the Titans.  A true enemy of mankind that it seemed almost no one was aware of.  Now he knew, and he had to do something about it.

But first, the confrontation.  And he better make sure he had her cornered and that he was ready for a fight.  It was likely she would lash out, and he needed to be prepared for a fight for survival.  He needed to be ready to handle the situation as soon as he had the truth, because whether she was a murderer or monster only affected how the fight would go and the severity of the stakes.  If she was a legitimate monster as well as a murderer did not affect the fact that a fight was inevitable--it just decided how deadly it would actually be.

And he needed a contingency in case the worst happened, so the truth wouldn’t die with him.

The Scouts needed to know what lurked within their ranks.  Erwin needed to know.  It was all a front--something deadly was masquerading as one of them, and it needed to be stopped before it could do irreversible damage.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea​

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

[dragonsinkwell]

Ward of the Mountain

Usually, dragons kidnap princesses when they're 'needed', but you find that it's a status that you need more than the dragon you've come to beg it from.

You must admit, storming off on an impulse last week probably wasn't the most intelligent move you've made in your life so far, but what else were you supposed to do? No one will listen to you back in court. No swordplay, father said, along with no magic. A princess doesn't need to study linguistics, your mother repeated. Why not? Why ever not? You absolutely fail to see how that wouldn't make you more appealing. As if that ever mattered. Being the youngest of five, you're not much more than a bargaining token, or at least that's how it always feels. Something to just get sold off to make good with another family. Why then can't you learn whatever you please? You have no country to rule, and you know how to make your way through social situations. Why do you have to be useless in every other aspect?

A quick sigh leaves your lips as you kick a pebble in your path as hard as you can to vent the feelings of frustration brewing inside you. You don't know why. You never have, and it's always upset you. What about you being a woman makes it impossible? Or is it merely a flaw of your own self? No one's ever told you. You don't think they ever would, had you stayed.

Which brings you back to the present, trekking through this forest and up the mountain that bears it on a faint chance you can find a better future. You don't have much with you; it was hard to pack for such an impulsive runaway, especially when your very presence around the castle is difficult to mask, but you think you have enough to get you somewhere, anywhere friendlier than there. Time, too, is a precious thing you don't have much of; the second you were noticed missing there is no way the entire castle wasn't up in arms looking for you. Are they hot on your heels? That you cannot tell, but you aren't prideful enough to believe you aren't in danger of being caught.

However, you think of all your first stops, this is the one that has your best chances. Having been told this was a dangerous area, and for the very reason you seek, you believe this won't be the first place anyone searches for you. If you are correct, they will scour the city first, from the depths of foundation to the highest roof, and that will take days still at best to get full results, and with the luck of being able to 'borrow' a horse from the stables you made wonderful distance in the beginning of your run. Although, you also don't doubt there are people on the roads by now, expanding the search. How long it will take them to consider investigating this forest you do not know, but you pray deeply it is only after your attempts here succeed, or long enough after you have failed that you've escaped from here, too.

Where you will go if this doesn't work, you... aren't certain at all, if you are being honest with yourself. You can't even agree with your own decision to try this, to infringe on the domain of a dragon who's lived longer than your own bloodline, begging for sanctuary, but it is the only true idea you had at all. What town would shelter you,when to present you would earn favor? What home would hide you under their roof, knowing that to be caught would be treason? You know nothing at all about how to make a life for yourself, no skill or trade knowledge in the slightest. Even this week of travel has been misery, uncertain in all aspects if you'll make it another night here in the wild, or what will you do in a few days when your provisions are gone. Do you scamper home, broken and with your tail between your legs? Or do you give up, letting the earth take back its due early?

You truly don't know. You can't say you want to think about it.

This new wave of thoughtful burdens makes you want to stop and rest. You're tired, in every sense of the word. It's been a long journey, and even on this worn path through the trees and brush, it is far more walking than you've done in your whole life before this. At least you thought to steal this outfit, or 'buy' perhaps, having left the servant you took it from a handful of coins to replace it, tunic and trousers both, far easier to move in than any of yours. Not to mention the boots which, definitely too large to call fitting, help tremendously in making your way. Heavens help you at even the thought of if you'd tried to do this in your own shoes, dainty and frail as they always are.

But, for as exhausted as you are, physically and emotionally, you still have this final stretch to reach your destination and you cannot afford to stop yet. You've come this far, you can make it the rest of the way. If you weren't in such a desperate hurry, you might enjoy the scenery that surrounds you. The trees are tall and majestic, forest crown dappled with sunlight breaking through the leaves. A refreshing, cool breeze blows through, rustling the greenery and carrying the sounds of all sorts of life. Had you the time, and could find a spot without too many bushes and not directly on the dirt, a nap out here would certainly be lovely.

What would a house out here be like? Neighbors with nature in its entirety? Maybe it'd be nice, though you have to admit you already miss being able to have conversations. Perhaps just a house close to a forest like this would be pleasant enough. You continue musing on what a life on your own might be like, one day. Where might you be able to end up when all is said and done?

Soon enough, however, you find yourself at the path's end, and the soft-edged dreams of your future are shattered. Nervousness rushes through your body and ice takes over your veins. For all your bold nature, you've never dealt with a dragon before, much less with one so renowned. 'Negotiating', also known as arguing, with your parents is one thing. Negotiating with a dragon will be an enormous difference. Can you trust yourself to pull it off?

There's a long, silent moment where you stand here, looking cautiously at the cave entrance in the clearing before you. The stone is torched and carved, decorated in a way you've only seen at palaces, a testament to who lives within. It's a long shot, what you've come here for, but dragons take princesses on a fairly regular basis, correct? And though you are the youngest, your blood is strong and your family name is one of the oldest in the area, so your presence must have some value. Yes, you assure yourself, trying to talk yourself into a calmer state of mind, and even if he does not agree, you cannot imagine he would harm you recklessly. You've heard legends of him, the tales spanning back centuries, and while exceptionally proud, and wrathful at times, he's known to have grown more solemn over time. Quieter, more reserved.

You take a deep breath, holding it for an instant longer than usual, letting it out slowly. You've come all this way, you might as well stick to your plan. Yes, the worst case is death, but perhaps even that would be better than the life of gilded shackles you've run from. He'd make it quick, at least. You search around the clearing and notice a small alcove of rock at the edge, not large, but big enough for you to have some cover, and make your way over as quickly and quietly as you possibly can.

Once you make it there, you gently put down the small rucksack you have and begin stripping. Though you've honestly enjoyed the simpler garb that you've worn getting here, you doubt it would be any help in the upcoming conversation. Despite personally having no genuine interest in your birthright, if you are going to bargain with it, then you must come prepared.

Rifling through the handful of possessions you have with you, you remove a rich green dress that you stuffed in the bag. It's a simpler one, easy to put on alone, part of why you picked it at all, but with a delicate veil of fine black lace over the shoulders and the skirt, mimicking butterfly wings. Next, you slip into a pair of tights and some matching shoes. They're extra uncomfortable after the boots that carried you this far, but you can tolerate them for now. Last, but perhaps the most important, is the couple pieces of jewelry to finish off the look. A simple necklace, woven gold and silver, and a small tiara crowned with diamonds and emeralds.

Certainly not your best look, when you think about it as you repack your bag. The dress is wrinkled and no amount of smoothing it with your hands helps, your hair is a little greasy and poorly combed, your face is entirely unpainted, and you have no perfume, but it is the best you can do out here. Hopefully, it happens to be enough.

Before your rationality and fear convince you to do the smart thing and leave, you pick up your rucksack and make your way over to the cave entrance. Trembling hands tighten around the strap of your bag while your tongue tries to moisten your lips. You were crazy enough to think this was a good idea in the first place, so you're certainly crazy enough to try it for real.

Right?

After a sharp breath, you announce your presence, name and title both, cringing at yourself for the way your voice cracks. "Watcher of Sky and Ruler of Forest," you say loudly, trying your best to earn the attention of the dragon who lives here, "Elder Satanael, I would like to speak with you. I beg for a chance to negotiate with you and to offer you a deal. Please, what do you say?"

Once you're done, all you can hear is the birds singing in the distance and the rustling of leaves and greenery. Nothing at all. Is he no longer here? Is Satanael gone, for now or for good? Or are you not even worth a conversation? All of these ideas are equally optional, so it is hard to tell.You shift in place, wondering if it's even worth staying. If he is not interested, or is gone for who knows how long, then there is no place in trying over and over. Time to try a new option on where to go from here.

"Agreed." A deep voice rolls out, snapping your attention back to the current situation as you turn your attention back toward the depths of the cave. "You may enter, Princess."

Your breath hitches. You... You really didn't expect him to answer after such silence, but now he will speak to you, and perhaps even allow you to strike a deal. Honestly, you weren't entirely certain you could ever make it this far, so the idea that you've succeeded even this far is something special. Slowly, you carefully step forward, one by one, into the dim, cold cave.

It becomes hard to see as you go deeper in, but you don't have a torch and have no magic to conjure a light at all. The idea of being ambushed flares up in your mind, and you have to bite your own tongue to keep yourself from allowing your mind to wander. The worst he can do is kill you, you remind yourself, and if he wanted to do so, then you couldn't save yourself even outside. He must certainly be willing to speak at least some, if he would invite you inside.

"Halt."

As if your body is beyond your control, you cease moving immediately. You can't help but gasp all the same. Before you can react further, a bright surge of flame appears over your head and you instinctually cover your eyes with an arm, shrinking down, wondering if this is it, if you will be burnt to ashes. A sudden scream escapes your lips as you brace yourself, waiting for the final moments of your life. But one second turns to two, which turns to three, and as you realize you are both alive and unharmed, you open your eyes once more, curious to see what has happened.

And the sight in front of you answers every question that crossed your mind. The cavern is brightly lit, something above you holding the fire, but there is only one thing that grabs any of your attention. Before you stands Satanael, the largest and oldest dragon known to your kingdom. He is massive, even in such a large cave his own presence overwhelms it all. Black scales, bleeding into a rich blue around his wings and talons, coating his body, stronger than any armor known to man. Said talons are bright gold, as are his horns and the top half of his face, appearing almost like a mask of sorts, gracing his head like a crown. You've only seen artistic renderings of him, from ages past, and now you cannot at all call them accurate. He is beyond words.

"G- Greetings, Elder," you manage to stutter while curtsying, once you realize you aren't breathing. You know it's most polite to speak in Draconic, but you've only been left to sneak any learning yourself, and in the current moment you cannot recall how it is pronounced.

Satanael shifts, moving his head down slightly to look at you better. It makes you realize how big his head is, larger than you yourself are. "Greetings, Young One," he replies in Common, though his mouth does not move at all. It takes a second to realize he is speaking through magic. "Why have you come here, alone at that?"

You lick your lips again, trying to maintain your bravery, even if it is merely a front. "I seek to strike a deal with you. May I present to you my offer?"

"Hm." Satanael takes another long moment to look at you, clearly thinking. Now, more than ever, you wish you'd been able to dress yourself more appropriately. Even like this, you feel pathetically under-dressed. "Does it have to do with why your people seek you?"

"W- what? I-" The realization that he knows you're a runaway causes you to choke. Have knights beaten you here? Do they know where you are? Were all of your efforts worth nothing in the end? Then, there's no point in pretending otherwise, you suppose. "Yes. Yes, Elder, that is why I came here."

You brace yourself, expecting to be told off, but you manage to keep your gaze on Satanael. If you've made it this far, then no point backing down now. "I see," Satanael murmurs, nodding gently. "Speak, then. I will hear your offer."

His answer stuns you for a moment. After learning that he knew your situation to some degree, you expected him to turn you away, but your admission only seemed to encourage him. Maybe... Maybe he will be more interested in what you have to present than you expected at first. "Ah, well. I came here to negotiate a trade. A week ago I left my family and palace because they would not let me learn anything beyond what they think a princess should know. I seek a place that will help me figure out these things and, um, there really is no place that I can reach which will do so without being caught."

"So you seek my help traveling?" he asks, shifting, and in doing so you can see the light reflecting from his scales. They remind you of fully polished knives and obsidian.

"No, Elder," you reply, shaking your head lightly. "I know dragons often take princesses as their own from time to time, and I have heard that you have not taken one in many decades. In exchange for you being my mentor, and providing me sanctuary from my family, I would offer myself."

Though you can't accurately read a dragon's body language, Satanael's reaction is one you can only describe as curious. He shifts suddenly and his head dips closer to you than you'd ever expect. "Oh? You would volunteer yourself instead of being kidnapped? With no knowledge of what would be required of you?"

You swallow thickly, extra nervous with how near his face is to you, nodding a couple of times. "I have heard some stories of what princesses do when taken by dragons. I would help maintain your cave here, yes?"

"That is part of it, in most circumstances. There is far more than that, however. Depending on her bloodline, princesses are good for status, as little more than pets. Many bits of magic require or simply do better with king's blood. Princesses of all races are valuable in this regard." Satanael lets out what sounds like a sigh and retreats to his previous pose. "You are also correct, in that I have not taken one in some time. To care for a princess is an endeavor, and sometimes more work than it is worth if there is no good reason to. As you can picture, most are not keen to behave when brought to a cave against their will."

"I can imagine why." If it's this scary when you want to be here, then the idea of what it would be like if you'd been kidnapped, taken as a pet and made to await being rescued, fills your body with dread. "But I am here by choice."

"Indeed," he agrees. "A curious decision. I have never seen a princess make such an offer. How many years will you agree to, in exchange for being under my care and tutelage?"

That was something you never considered, honestly. Truthfully, you didn't even quite believe it would work at all, so how long wasn't planned. You take a moment to consider it. How long would it take you to learn enough to support yourself? How many years will your family be looking for you? You aren't sure about anything. "I... I honestly don't know..." you have to admit quietly. "I did not think you would agree."

Satanael chuffs, eyes narrowing, and despite how frightening he looks, his voice is warmer than before. "A bold little thing, you are. You came here on a whim, then?" Ashamed, you nod, unable to meet his gaze for the moment. "Humans are fascinating things. For you, I shall allow you a year, then, and on the anniversary we shall discuss a renewal. Does this sound acceptable to you?"

You sit and ponder. One year under Satanael's care, an entire year as a dragon's princess, but one who would teach you more than you have ever learned before. Being a 'maid' is certainly work you've never done, but it seems like easy payment, and to offer some blood if needed doesn't sound awful. If he has taken no princesses lately, then surely he isn't likely to need any at all. It seems like a reasonable agreement to you. "It does. For a year I will be under your rule and care, and you will teach me things I seek to know, and at the end we can consider repeating it for another."

As soon as you finish, Satanael moves, one of his legs lifting up and carefully moving toward you. It takes a massive amount of fortitude to not shrink back as a talon approaches your face, though you can't help but screw your eyes shut, arms wrapping around your torso, definitely unnerved. With a delicacy that is absolute, the tip of his talon taps your forehead and a jolt of power strikes through you. "We have a deal."

[yostresswritinggirl]

Scholars’ Chit Chat Prologue Submission

XXX

Cyno x Reader (Platonic, possibly romantic in the future)

*Lore dump warning

*Spoilers for all the Archon Quests and speculations of Teyvat

*Really it’s all serious talk

XXX

This is basically how you and Cyno met

XXX

The libraries of Sumeru are quiet, like how they’re suppose to be.

It is a new semester after all, the freshmen are still getting a grasp of the large campus, though Cyno does guess that soon enough they will be awed of this place.

Walking among the tall shelves, he tries to locate the section he had been researching on, but a voice calls out to him, breaking his concentration.

“Hey, you ever thought of why were you given a Vision?”

He turns to the source of the voice, only to see you there, sitting on top of one of the book shelves as your legs dangled from it.

“I would say that it is a question worth discovering with my entire life.”

“Huh, to think that you would answer so naturally… Wouldn’t one first ask who I am or ask why would I want to know that?”

“Because, first, I know who you are and second, those who come to this place seek knowledge.”

“Oh, so I had become the talk of school despite me being here for the first day?”

“Indeed, you were known as one who had declared to not take part in any sort of Mysticism studies yet aim to unveil the mysteries of this world. They called you naive yet you had earned the highest scholarship obtainable. It’s kind of hard to not let such news spread out.”

“Well, there are certainly advantages and disadvantages with this commotion, but that’s not my main focus anyways.”

“And may I ask what that would be?”

“To search for answers to fulfil my contract with the God of Wisdom.”

“Contract?”he questions, not capable of following your conversation, you slyly smiled at this.

“Unfortunately, this upcoming topic requires a fee to unlock~ I don’t mind sharing my findings to others, but when it comes to something as rare as words from an archon….”

“You get the idea, a price is required for everything after all.”

“…”

Cyno stared at you as if you were pulling his leg, but his reaction made you smirk even more.

“Oh, I won’t be asking for much, something like… Your name, perhaps?”

Suddenly realising that he hadn’t introduced himself yet and was reminded in such a playful matter, Cyno couldn’t help but let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“My apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Cyno, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hmm… You know that one’s name is important, right? Names hold power, not necessary the one given by your parents but the one that defines your soul. There are quite a few stories mentioning that giving your name to someone is the same as giving a part of their soul to them.”

The male however lets out a laugh at your advice.

“Thanks for the warning, I’ll keep that on mind.”

“It was nothing, and to the end of my bargain, yes…’ you began as you jumped off the shelf, landing right in front of him. “Well, it’s more like a bet than a contract if I’m being honest.”

“Which is?”

“To find out the truth behind Khaen-riah’s fall, or more specifically, the reason behind the alchemist Gold’s fall, before I graduate.”

“?!”

The kingdom that had technology and Mysticism developed greatly even without an archon, then was destroyed five hundred years ago.

Not much is known about Khaen-riah, and yet...

Cyno, was shocked, no, shocked isn’t enough to describe how he’s feeling.

“That’s... nearly impossible, isn’t it? Just what sort of offer did he gave you to tip the scales-”

“If I succeeded, he would answer me anything I want to know about.”

“A-Anything?”

“That’s right~”

...

“What happens... If you fail?”

Everything comes with a price, as you had said.

“Then my life would be in his hands, for him to decide my fate.”

Despite only knowing you for not long, Cyno cannot believe what you had risked.

“Are you out of your mind?! What would you possibly want to know that you’re willing to-”

“To understand the laws of this world.” You answered one a simple matter.

“It has been so long that the human race had been existing and yet none of us came close in finding the truth of the world...”

“Or perhaps someone did, and they failed to tell anyone?”

“Even Khaen-riah itself is advance with Alchemy, history tells us that their greatest alchemist Gold fell and became quite a threat... But why...?”

“...”

“What I’m trying to say is that we’re too trusting towards the gods cause we’re told to do so since we were born, you know what I had learnt after being tricked once? Doubt everything when you first see it, question it’s existence and see if you can use another point of view to perceive it.”

“Why do you doubt the gods?”

“That’s because I believe in humanity’s wisdom. I believe that even without the gods, humanity can still take care of themselves as fine.”

“If you need to rely on someone else in order to live, then what’s the meaning of living in the first place?”

“This is... quite a lot...” Cyno mumbled.

“It is a lot to take in, I agree.” You nodded as you leaned against a shelf.

“Our senior Lisa left this place after mere two years and went to Mondstadt to be a librarian despite her being a genius the Academia hasn’t seen for 200 years... Is it because she saw something that nobody else realised?”

“So what you’re saying is... There’s more to the bigger picture?” Cyno guessed as you snapped your fingers. “Bingo.”

“But that being said, questioning the gods is the same thing as raging treason against this world... “ Cyno pointed out with worry. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Indeed, *I’m trying to understand the rules of this chess game, so that humanity, the supposed audience of this game gets the chance to participate in it.”

“And if we can win this chess game or not, is entirely up to our legacy...”

“You have too much belief in humanity... Or should I say you have no intention of losing in the first place?”Cyno predicted with a sigh.

“Hm, seeing that you’re being so interested in our bet, perhaps you would like to become my partner in crime?”

Hearing this, Cyno finally realised that he was tricked at the point when he answered your question about his Vision.

“So that was what you were going after for all along, huh?”

“Haha, yup~ I mean, our archon didn’t state anything about not able to team up with others, so why not?”

“Able to ask anything from the God of Wisdom himself, what else more can a scholar wish for?”

Cyno understand that your words are trying to lure him, but in truth, who can give up this opportunity?

“I mean, even if we fail, I’m the only one who would lose anything so it really sounds like a pretty good deal to me~”

“And would you mind me asking for a warrant from you for the time I would be spending on this?”Cyno requested, surprising you for a bit.

“Well, how about my name? You’ve heard about me but haven’t known that yet, correct? With a part of our souls in each other’s hands, no one can run off easily, don’t you think so?”

“Alright I accept the of your con-”

“It’s a promise, not a contract.”

Cyno pauses at your sudden seriousness, he then takes notice of the frown on your face.

“...”

“You want this partnership to be built on trust and not just a piece of paper?” He guessed.

You softly nodded, trying not to meet him in the eyes.

But there’s no way that he would accept that, you two only just met after all-

“Then I promise, that I will be your partner in crime upon this bet against the Dendro Archon.”

Wha-?!

Cyno offers you a small smile. “Everyone has their own reasons, I too wish that I can understand you better within these few years... That is if you wish, of course.”

I’m glad.

“Yeah, likewise, Cyno.”

“I also by offering my name, promise that we will find out the laws of this world and allow humanity to earn the chance to be a part of this chess game.”

���My name is-“

XXX

*The chess game is referencing The Feynman Lectures on Physics, it is also referenced from Honkai Impact 3rd (another game of MiHoYo) Honkai Quest event by the character Delta, it is possible that it works as well for the world of Teyvat.

(One way that's kind of a fun analogy to try to get some idea of what we're doing here to try to understand nature is to imagine that the gods are playing some great game like chess. Let's say a chess game. And you don't know the rules of the game, but you're allowed to look at the board from time to time, in a little corner, perhaps. And from these observations, you try to figure out what the rules are of the game, what [are] the rules of the pieces moving.

You might discover after a bit, for example, that when there's only one bishop around on the board, that the bishop maintains its color. Later on you might discover the law for the bishop is that it moves on a diagonal, which would explain the law that you understood before, that it maintains its color. And that would be analogous we discover one law and later find a deeper understanding of it.

Ah, then things can happen--everything's going good, you've got all the laws, it looks very good--and then all of a sudden some strange phenomenon occurs in some corner, so you begin to investigate that, to look for it. It's castling--something you didn't expect.)

And welp, Exiled, mind me adding this?

-To their future child(ren)

And this is how your parents met//slap

With the Gnosis shaped as chess pieces and with MiHoYo’s other games referencing this...

Well theories will be theories until they’re truly revealed.

Until then Snowdrop’s gonna freak out on what the heck I just wrote

There will be continuations... Just please don’t look forward to it... OwO

Oh I do NOT mind AT ALL, Snowdrop. CONTINUE. This series looks so freakin cool and refreshing even!

[cactuskate]

Chapter 2: The Offer

the perfect gif doesn't exi- (gif by @yodaprod)

AN: here is chapter 2! sorry for the delay :)

Summary: Poor Y/N is just looking for an easy day after a night full of fighting stormtroopers. Unfortunately for her, the fight is not quite over. Besides, an annoyingly handsome Han Solo just seems to keep showing up wherever she's at... and this time with an offer she might not be able to refuse!

Warnings: another stormtrooper fight, blasters, bruises, Chewie swearing

word count: 2,484

____

The next morning you wake up sore. Your side is starting to turn an ugly shade of green, but you welcome it. Green is your favorite color, and you don’t get to see much of it in the desert. After spending the morning at the daycare, you are instantly in a better mood than the previous night. Something about being around foundlings has always made you feel at ease. Your day is wide open until later in the evening -- when the Union meets.

Walking down one of the main streets, you figured you would stop at your favorite bakery for more bread. Baba is an older woman who has owned the store since she was your age. Everyone loves Baba, but to you, she is like a grandmother. Every day, you walk past her booth and she yells at you for not eating enough, offers you bread, and refuses your payment. It is quite an honor for her to treat you like this. She isn’t kind to everyone, despite being one of the highest esteemed community members on Tatooine. As you turn down the path that leads to her storefront, you stop cold in your tracks. The trooper from last night. Harassing Baba.

“Where is she?! Huh?! Tell me, you old bat, I know you know who I’m talking about!” he shouts at Baba, who is huddled behind the kiosk countertop. Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline overcomes you and you start sprinting towards the trooper.

----

“Hey, Chew, look it’s your friend,” Han says, as the pair turns the corner in search of a junkyard for some parts. There you were, sprinting down the street.

“Hey, loser! Leave her alone,” you shout, crouching down to help Baba up and into the store where you instruct her to lock the door. The rest of the street comes to a silent hush as other storekeepers and customers follow suit and hide in the buildings.

“Can’t seem to get enough of me, huh?” you taunt the trooper. “Seems like I did a real number on that handsome face of yours last night, you sure you want a second round?” The trooper grunts as he lunges at you.

“Leave her be!” Han shouts. Chewie growls, pulling Han back before he can insert himself in the situation.

“Solo, go away, this isn’t your fight,” you shout back, annoyed that you now have an audience. You swerve the trooper’s advancements, sweeping his legs out from underneath him causing him to land on his back.

“It’s embarrassing how bad you are at this,” you huff at the trooper. “I have no tolerance for men that harass innocent people. You’ve picked on the wrong person, soldier.”

The trooper reaches for his blaster, aiming to shoot at you. Before he can even turn off the safety, you’ve kicked it out of his hands. The trooper lunges for it, regaining whatever was left of his balance. You reach for it too, sending it flying down the street without even touching it.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a fair fight,” you say as you bat your eyes.

“Jedi scum,” huffs the trooper, standing now, ready to charge you.

He hits your side - in the same exact place he struck you last night - and you topple to the ground. Okay, that time I definitely heard a crack. Without a second thought, you spring back up to catch his fist, flipping him to the ground and pinning him down with all the strength left in your body in one motion.

“I’m no Jedi. A Jedi would show mercy. You won’t be getting any of that from me. I know who you are, TK-079. I know everything about you. You’re a bully. I hate bullies,” you sneer at him, fear growing on his face.

You reach for the blaster again, and it comes flying into your hand like a moth to light. You slam the butt of it up onto his chin, in the same place as last night. An eye for an eye, you think, as you start to feel the pain bubble up in your side, this time at a higher intensity. The trooper is knocked out cold. For a moment, you feel peace.

Han and Chewbacca come running up to you. Shit. How much of that did they hear?

“Seems like he came back for round two really thinking he would win,” Chewie chuckled. You look up at him, noticing the noise beginning to resume on the street as people come out from their hiding.

“Can you pick him up for me?” you ask Chewie, not wanting to draw any more attention to the fight that just played out. Chewbacca hoists the trooper over his shoulder. “Through there,” you point at the tunnel leading to an alley. Han stays put, still processing what he just witnessed. “Solo, come on,” you urge, picking up the trooper’s blaster and tugging on Han’s sleeve.

----

“Well, I’m starting to think I need to practice my combat a little more, what do you think Chewie?” Han dramatically announces as the three of you and the unconscious trooper enter the alley.

“You can put him down right here, thank you,” you tell Chewbacca, ignoring Han’s comment. “Solo, destroy the blaster, down there,” you instruct, handing Han the gun and pointing further down the alley. He looks at you with a face of bewilderment.

“You want me to destroy this perfectly fine blaster? No. No, I can’t do that, that would be sacrilegious. Clearly, you won that fight, you should keep it,” Han rebuttals, extending the blaster to you.

“No, I don’t want it. I don’t like guns. Destroy it, or keep it - whatever, I want it out of my sight,” you grunt, as you try to figure out which door in the alley belongs to the Resistance.

You know the mission already went sideways, it would be too risky to let the trooper get away again. Just deliver him to Resistance officers to arrest, and then deal with whatever consequence the Union is sure to dream up.

“Wha- You don’t like guns? I don’t get you. You go and pick fights with stormtroopers and then won’t even use a gun? That’s all they know how to do -- point and shoot!” Han says, bewilderedly. He shudders. “I don’t want to keep the blaster of a dead stormtrooper.”

“He’s not dead!” you whisper-shout at him. “Look, I don’t know what you think you heard, but I do not go picking fights with stormtroopers,” you huff. “Chewie, can you destroy the blaster?”

Chewbacca and Han move further down the alley to deal with the gun as you knock on the door of the Resistance office. You explain what happened to the Resistance officer and they gratefully take the unconscious man into custody. Venturing down the alley, you find Chewbacca and Han hovered over the smoking blaster.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” you huff, as you squeeze past them to reemerge on the main street.

“A perfectly good blaster,” Han mumbles, following you to the street with Chewie right behind.

“What were you two even doing over here, the cantina isn’t remotely close,” you ask annoyedly, wondering what stars-forsaken reason you had company on a botched mission. Not botched. Just... improvised.

“We’re looking for a new junkyard to find parts at. Han got us banned from our usual dealer,” Chewbacca growls, clearly annoyed with Han.

“It was not my fault! That guy was a lunatic. Trying to upsell pieces of junk,” Han argued back.

“My roommate’s friend owns a junkyard near my house. I’ll show you. I can probably get you a good deal… a sort of thank you for helping me back there,” you offer, genuinely thankful there was at least someone with the muscle power to help bring the trooper out of the street. Even without an injured side, you would have struggled to do it yourself.

Argh, my side. The pain swells up. You look down to see the exposed skin peeking out of your top become even more discolored, and hope that it will subside in a couple days.

----

The three of you walk up the street leading to the junkyard in silence. Estrella, although part of the Union, seems to take the attachment rule with a grain of salt. She has been secretly dating Brendol, who owns the junkyard you are taking Han and Chewie to. Brendol is a piece of work. You can’t fathom why Estrella would break this rule for him.

“Hi Brendol, I brought you some business,” you announce as you enter the shop, the bell above the door chiming. Brendol looks up from his book, underwhelmed. “This is Chewbacca and Han Solo. They’re looking for some parts.” Turning to Han and Chewie, you gesture to the yard. “I’ll leave you boys to it.”

“Do you speak Wookiee?” Chewbacca asks Brendol, who looks somewhat more enthusiastic.

“Yes,” Brendol responds, somewhat relieved when he realizes he’ll only have to deal with Chewbacca as Han stays back in the shop. Word seemed to have gotten around about Han’s scuffle with the other junkyard owner.

Making your way to the opposite side of the shop from Han, you begin tinkering with parts of a droid that needs repair. Han’s gaze is steady on you as you work with your back to him. You feel him just standing there. Watching you.

“Enjoying the view?” you ask annoyed, as you turn to meet his gaze from across the shop. He continues to stare as you work with the parts in your hand. You walk to the counter where he is leaning, purposefully placing yourself with as much distance the tiny shop will allow between you.

“What do you want?” you finally huff, placing the parts down on the counter with a clang. You don’t dare meet his eyes. He’s already gotten to know you enough in the past 24 hours than anyone else has.

“Just… thinking,” Han responds coyly. “You know, Chewie and I were talking. You’re a great fighter. You clearly know what you're doing around parts,” he says, gesturing to the droid you’ve nearly fixed. “Chewie told me a few other things about you, too.”

“Like what?” you ask, trying to sound bored rather than panicked. You finally turn to meet his gaze. He hasn’t stopped looking at you since the three of you arrived at the junkyard.

“Like how you’re loyal, how you have so much more to offer than what this crummy planet deserves...,” he trails. “How you should join us on the Falcon’s crew.” You freeze. He can’t be serious.

“You’re crazy, Solo. You don’t even know me and you're asking me to fly away with you?”

“With us. It was Chewie’s idea,” he clarifies. “You’re right, I don’t know you. But Chewie knows you enough to trust you and that says a lot to me.” He pauses for a moment, contemplating what to say next. “I know you don’t know me, but Chewie trusts me. So that must mean something to you, too,” Han argues. You search his gaze for some sort of sign as to why he’s asking you. You come up with nothing.

“What do you do?” Han asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“What?”

“What do you do for a living? Here on Tatooine. What do you do?” Han asks.

“I’m a daycare teacher,” you respond. He laughs.

“Right. I’m supposed to believe you're a teacher? None of my teachers ever knew how to throw a punch like you do,” Han says, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I learned how to fight when I was a waitress a few years back,” you say, not completely lying. Maz thought it would be good for you to know how to fight when you got your first job working in the cantina. “You don’t have to believe anything I say,” you continue, “But of all the jobs I could lie about having, why would I choose being an underpaid teacher?”

“Fine,” Han says, putting his hands up in the air as a surrender. “I believe you. I just don’t think you’re telling me the whole truth,” Han falters, as if he’s considering whether or not to say what he says next. “I just think someone like you is wasting your potential staying here. Come with us or don’t, that’s up to you. But this planet… this planet doesn’t deserve you.”

Han holds your gaze, a little longer than you would like. The shouting match between Chewie and Brendol ends the moment as quickly as it came.

“Y/N, would you tell your friend the Wookiee that I will not go lower than 400 credits for these parts,” Brendol whines as he returns to his spot behind the counter.

“Y/N, you tell this puny man that he knows that price is bullshit,” Chewbacca cries, carrying a load of parts in his arms to the counter. Han leans himself against the doorframe, entertained that you are put in the middle of Chewie’s bargaining negotiations instead of him.

“Brendol, come on. 400 credits? Cut it down to 200, I’m cashing in on my favor,” you say firmly, planting your hands on the counter so you face him square on.

“What favor do I owe you for exactly?” Brendol sneers, certain you have nothing of value for him to fold on.

“Two months ago, you told Rella you were going to visit your mother on Corellia, but I know for a fact and have evidence that you went to Canto Bight and spent all of your savings on gambling. I haven’t told Rella because I care too much about her, but I’m starting to think it might be better for her to know…,” you counter, knowing this is enough for him to fold.

Brendol pauses, seeming to process the information you just told him. Han and Chewie exchange an entertained look.

“Fine, 200 credits,” Brendol grunts.

“150, I just fixed this droid,” you shoot back, hitting a wire that makes the D-O unit reel to life. Brendol looks defeated but agrees. Chewie cries a coo of delight, happily paying 150 credits for the parts he needs.

“See ya later, Brendol!” you sing, as you leave the shop, passing by an impressed Han Solo on your way through the door.

As the pair meets you outside of the shop, you know this is goodbye. As tempting of an offer Han made, it is not enough to get you to leave Tatooine. Not wanting you to decide so quickly, Han places a hand on your shoulder.

“Just think about what I said. We leave tomorrow at sunset.”

You nod, with your mind already made up and turn to give Chewie a hug. You watch for a moment as they walk away, back through town and to their ship. You sigh, as you know your day is far from over. Rough day.

//kp

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Prologue: Well, Fuck Me!

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Intro: The Losers infiltrate a child sex trafficking operation based in the Middle East thanks to their new inside woman...only she isn’t new to all the team.

Warnings: Bad Language. Smut (NSFW, 18+) Mentions of child slavery

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The mission was simple, well, on paper. Clay and the rest of his specially selected Black-Ops team were charged with bringing down a child sex trafficking ring being operated by a number of corrupt US and UK Soldiers who were currently stationed in Iraq. His person on the inside had successfully infiltrated the ring following a 6 month period of being undercover and thanks to them they now knew how it was being operated. The kids targeted were orphans, so there was no one there to make a fuss or protect them. They were taken from the streets, refugee camps and then smuggled into Turkey (not Syria as they had originally thought)  where they were transported to Hakkari before being auctioned off and handed over to whoever it was that had bought them for the evening, ready for whatever disgusting fate awaited them. This process was repeated several times over a week, before the kids were then disposed of before a fresh new bunch brought in for the next auction in three months time.  It was slick, well organised, and fucking disgusting. But Clay knew he had to keep that disgust at bay, if he had any chance of keeping his cover. Earlier that day Cougar had successfully taken out one of the original players who would be attending the auction, thanks once more to the info their insider had passed on, and Clay had taken his place. He sat in the plush, velvet arm-chair which surrounded a dimly lit stage, a glass of scotch in one hand, cuban in the other. Coupled with his dark suit and open collar white shirt, he looked to be a seamless copy of the the rest of the perverts lounging in equally opulent seats around the circle.  A literal paedophile ring.  "In position..."   Roque spoke into the tiny ear-piece Clay was wearing. He had no microphone, nothing. Wearing anything like that was far too big a risk, but the ear piece as designed by Jensen was far too small for them to have noticed. It meant he could still hear what was going on, and once he gave the signal his team plus the rest of the CIA officers waiting outside would swamp the place. And if a few of the perverts happened to hit a few steps or fists on their way out, no one was going to cry about it.  "We have visual on you Colonel..."  Pooch spoke again "Jensen hacked the CCTV and is now about to cut their comms..." "Easy as pie..." Jensen muttered  "And as I am a genius, they are now officially unable to contact the outside world..." "If you're a genius then they seriously need to rethink what they call Einstein..."  Pooch retorted. “Shut up Pooch, not my fault you can't even figure out how to work a laptop..." "Enough!"  Roque cut across the banter, Cougar's chuckle hitting Clay's ear as he watched a pretty, slim blonde Woman striding onto stage. "It's starting. Keep comms clear until further instructions received." Clay looked at the woman, her black dress was tight leaving little to the imagination. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail and her lips were painted a blood red. Dark eyeshadow adorned her lids and her calculating blue eyes scanned the room, falling on him for a second before she continued looking around, a smile curling across her face. She looked the part of a Gentlemans Club owner. Pristine, perfectly put together, but she was a female pimp- nothing more, nothing less.  "Gentlemen, welcome." she spoke, her soft American accent cutting across the rooms and Clay noted the slight New-England twang she had. "The Auction is about to begin but I must first of all run down a few rules with you. You will find to your right your bidding pads. Should you wish to bid, tap the button. Simply put, highest bidder wins. Once your purchase has been made and the monies have been collected from your specified accounts, you will be invited to meet with your latest acquisition in the specially provided rooms. They are yours to do with as you wish until 9 am tomorrow morning upon which time they will be collected from your rooms and your personal effects will be returned. All we ask is that you do not kill them. It becomes messy and attracts unnecessary attention to the club from the outside." She turned and barked something in Turkish to someone and a door to the back of the room opened. The woman moved to another smaller plinth at the back of the room as a man dragged a crying girl, that can't have been older than 9 years, dressed in nothing but her underwear onto the circular plinth under the spotlights. "Fuck..."  Clay heard Pooch's disgusted voice in his ear. "This is sick." Jensen muttered. And it was. But Clay had to remain still, and silent. The play was simple, he put in a few bids and hung back. But at some point, when he was sure they had enough evidence, he would enter a bid of a million. That was the team's cue to move. He let the first girl go, much as he didn't want to. But seeing her being dragged off the stage was enough to make him decide he was ending it with the second. He couldn't take watching another kid go through that, they had to have enough to bust this wide open, surely.  The next was a small, dark haired boy. He was pulled onto the stage by the burley guard, trembling, his brown eyes wide in fear. The bidding began. 10, 12, 15 thousand... at that point Clay hit his button, submitting his bid of 20. It was beaten, so he entered another and was beaten again. "Bidding stands now at 40 thousand." the woman spoke. "Any further bids?" Clay pushed his button "1 million." he spoke clearly. The woman cocked her head to one side, her eyebrow raising but before she could say anything the doors to the back of the room blew off. Jensen, Cougar, Roque and Pooch flew into the room, flanked by a number of CIA agents and army officers as there was the usual pandemonium associated with a raid. As Jensen sprinted off down a corridor to the left in search of their Offices and computers,  Pooch tossed a gun to Clay who joined the fray. He looked up in time to see the woman who had been running the auction sprinting out of the room down another corridor, but before he could say anything Roque was after her. "You sick, fucking bitch..." Roque mumbled as he sprinted down the winding corridors in the depths of the club almost tripping over her discarded heels as he went. Eventually he caught up with her, just as she raised a gun that she seemed to have produced from nowhere, shooting someone in front of her. Just as the shot rang out, Roque threw himself onto her, taking her down. She struggled a little in his arms, her strength taking him by surprise as they tangled together but eventually his strength won out and he pinned her on his back. His hand reached up to grab the wrist of the arm she held her gun in and he banged it sharply on the floor a few times until she dropped her weapon.  He looked at her face for a second, and something flashed in her eyes. Almost relief and she let out a breath. "I'll come quietly" she said and Roque shook his head. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here, right now." "Because you need me." she shrugged "I'm your key to busting this whole thing wide open." "Get up..." Roque snarled, as he hauled her to her feet, secured her wrists behind her back with his restraints. He looked her up and down and noticed that her dress had ripped slightly, exposing her right thigh flashing the hold-ups and garter straps he was wearing, into which was tucked another pistol. He ripped it from the strap which ran up and over a large, floral tattoo before he spun her round and with the gun jabbed into her back, he pushed her in front of him back the way he had come.  "Can I at least get my shoes?" she asked. Roque looked at her, incredulously, but let her slip the heels back on before they continued, emerging into the large cavernous room containing the stage. The plush velvet chairs now scattered all over the place, shreds of fabric still in the air as they were riddled with bullet holes and Clay was barking orders to someone in an Army uniform who nodded, and started to instruct his men to move out the prisoners they had taken to the waiting vehicles. Pooch and Cougar turned to face him first, before Clay spun round. The woman Roque was holding looked Clay in the eye and arched her eyebrow slightly as she raised her chin in defiance.  "Caught her in the back, she shot one of the other operators." Roque said, his gun nudging her forward another step "Probably to stop him talking." Clay eyed her for a second, before a wide grin split across his face and he looked at Roque "Let her go, she's one of us." "What?" Roque blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Behind Clay Pooch and Cougar exchanged a look. "I said she's one of us." Clay said, "She's my person on the inside." Roque paused for a moment, looking at Clay then to the woman who turned to face him, her shoulders shrugging slightly "I told you I was your key to busting this wide open." Roque uncuffed her and she moved her arms, rubbing her wrists slightly. "Sorry." he said gruffly. "It's fine, you didn't know..." she said, cocking her head to one side "But can I have my guns back?" Roque fished in the waistband of his jeans and handed her the two pistols which she slipped back into her suspenders, giving a little moan. " You ruined my dress..." Pooch and Cougar gave a little snigger each and Roque glared at them both. Clay, however, ignored the 3 of them completely and looked at the woman. "Did you get him?" She nodded "Bullet straight through his head. I never miss."  "Through the head?" Pooch looked at her. "It was a shoot to kill order." she shrugged "So I shot and I killed him." Cougar tipped his hat slightly in approval as Pooch looked at him, then to Clay, then to Roque. Clay let out a huff of a laugh before he turned to the team. "This is Stella Stevenson, aka Arty..." "Like Artrois...that's clever." Pooch chuckled.Arty grinned at him as Roque looked at Clay "Emma's replacement, right?"

Clay nodded. "She's slightly less volatile..." 

Arty raised an eyebrow "Until I'm pushed...although leaving a bomb in someone's car is far too crude for my liking. You wouldn't see me coming, Clay." Clay snorted "Losers, treat her well. She's like a daughter to me, we go way back."

She smiled, and then looked around before she nodded to a door at the back, gesturing at them to follow her. "Everything you need is on the systems. I buried it as deep as I could to stop them deleting any of it. You got names, dates, transactions..."

"They kept transactions?" Pooch frowned as they walked down towards the offices she was indicating.

 "Key blackmail opportunities." Clay took a deep breath.

"Which I daresay we'll uncover as well." she spoke "This goes deep Clay. Deep. And it's not the only one. They're operating out of Syria and Afghanistan too." "Ok." Clay nodded, "Let's see if Jensen is done retrieving the intel off the systems and then we can-"

"Jensen?" Arty blinked at the mention of the familiar name and Clay turned to her grinning "You son of a bitch..." she laughed, shaking her head.

Roque, Cougar and Pooch exchanged a look.

"What did we miss?" Roque asked as they stopped outside a door.

"You're about to find out..." Clay said, pushing the door open. 

The five of them stepped inside and Clay looked at Jensen who had their back to them  and was leaning over a screen, his nose almost touching it. "You get what we need?"

Jensen didn't look up. "I was right, they had an automatic virus in here that can be remote operated but the stuff was buried deep, by someone who wanted to make sure it didn't get wiped, they clearly knew what they were doing..." he mused, and Clay glanced at Arty who raised an eyebrow "Just transferring it back to base now. We got names, dates, transaction history...and there are a few very naughty senators who are gonna be getting their collars felt. Which is better than them getting their balls felt by twelve year olds..." "Shame you weren't this good at Mario Karts JJ..." Arty spoke and Jensen stilled slightly before he whipped around in his seat.

"Stel?" he spoke, utterly astounded as he stood up, his dark green t-shirt rippling over his chest. She looked at him for a second.

"I thought you were in Afghanistan." she cocked her head to one side, taking his appearance in. He hadn't changed a bit in the year or so it had been since she had seen him last. Same cheeky and boyishly handsome face, same spiky blonde hair, same broad shoulders which tapered into a slim waist."

I thought you were in Iraq." he shot back, eyeing her up and down. She hadn't changed a jot either. Same curvy figure, same long legs and he let out a moan as he saw the guns strapped to her thigh through the rip in her dress. "Are you wearing suspenders?"  His eyes widened before they worked their way up her body.

"Always were observant Jakey." she grinned as his eyes locked onto her own, those crystal blue orbs shining slightly in the light of the room.

"Alright quit perving and for your information she was in Iraq." Clay said, "Under my orders." "Ok, what's this all about? You know each other or something?" Roque asked, gesturing between them with his hand.

Pooch rolled his eyes "Good call Roque, you think?"

"She's my best friend..." Jensen grinned, "All the way through middle and high-school..."

Stella barked out a laugh "So that's what we're calling it now?"

"Ok, best friend with...certain benefits.. if you get my drift." Jensen shrugged, his eyes twinkling cheekily. A that, Pooch let out a groan whilst Cougar smirked "Nice..." he said, tipping his hat, speaking for the first time since Arty had met him, a low chuckle escaping his mouth. Roque blinked and turned to Clay "And you knew about this?"

"I told you, she's like a daughter to me..." Clay shrugged. Jensen and Arty stood still, not really paying attention, simply looking at one another, until Jensen grinned and threw his arms open.

"Come here!"

With a grin she threw herself at him and he hugged her tight, arms wrapping around her back as he lifted her off the floor slightly and kissed her cheek.

"It's good to see you Stel”

“You too Jakey" After an hour or so, Clay signalled to the team that it was time to depart and they headed to the chopper that was waiting to take them out of Turkey and to the UN Base in Damascus where their handler was waiting to talk to them. The man, known only to them as David, took all the information down, told them what was likely to happen over the next few days and informed them that they would be ex-filled back to CIA HQ in DC in the next week or so, for full debrief. They were shown to their quarters for the next few days, which were all private rooms in the officers' lodgings, thank God, and they all retrieved their kit bags from the piles that were waiting for them, Arty's own pack being significantly smaller.

"Hope it's all the right size." Clay nodded towards it.

She smiled and took it from him with a thanks. "Sure it will do...hang on, did you buy me underwear as well?"

Clay shrugged.

"Ok, that's kinda gross..."

"I said I was like your dad..." he arched an eyebrow, "Not that I actually was. The rest of your stuff from the base will be shipped back, most likely waiting for you by the time we exfil."

"Thanks Clay." The team bid each other goodnight and Arty, once in her room headed straight for a shower. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and stepped under with a light groan, scrubbing her body and hair down as if the soap and shampoo would wash away the last 6 months. It wouldn't, of course. Some of the things she had seen and had to do during her stint undercover had been vile, and she knew would stick with her for the rest of her life but she had known that it wouldn't be easy. She needed to compartmentalise, decompress, which was the whole point of the debriefs and psyche evaluation she would be subject to when she got back to DC, just like any agent returning back into the fold after a mission. Arty knew the drill, it wasn't the first undercover op she had been involved in, having been a part of Delta Force for almost 2 years now, but it was the first one during which she had been directly undercover herself following recruitment into the CIA Special Ops Group Ground force. She knew that you never stayed in Special Ops long, it was a short term thing few people were lucky enough to be chosen for and could be cut even shorter if one of the missions left your face too easily recognisable, so Stella was intending to make the most of it even though she knew already it was gruelling.  And then there was Jensen. She had no idea he was working for the CIA but then, why would she? That was the point of Black Ops. Covert. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little upset at how far they actually had drifted since they had last seen each other 12 months ago. When they both went their separate ways after completing the ROTC, they'd promised to stay in touch, and to be fair for the most part over the past 8 years they'd done just that. Phone calls, emails, and then spending any time they could when they both had leave at the same time together, but it had certainly waned over the last year and, well, now she knew why.

Turning off the shower she dried off and dug out the night wear Clay had provided her with. Pleasantly surprised and pleased to find a pair of pale yellow pyjama shorts and matching tank top she shrugged them on before she flicked on the small TV that was attached to the wall, and just as she was about to throw herself on the bed there was a knock on her door. Knowing full well it would only be one person she padded barefoot over the clean, but clinical flooring and opened it. Jensen leaned against the door frame, barefoot and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white tank top, his handsome face sporting his trademark grin as he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Me and my friend Jack were just takin' a stroll, thought we'd pop by for a catch up." He watched as she smiled, and stepped back to let him in. His eyes slid up her bare legs to her shorts and over her ass for a second before he shut the door behind him.

"Not gonna lie Stel, was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress and those damned thigh holsters."

"They only come out for special occasions." she quipped, heading over to the small kitchen area at the back of the room and waving 2 mugs. "You want one or we doing it straight from the bottle?" "Why change the habit of a lifetime?" he snorted, twisting off the cap and taking a mouthful. She crossed towards him and he handed it to her and she took a loud mouthful, swallowing it as it burned her throat a little. "God it's hot when you do that." 

She shot him a look as he took the bottle from her, placing it down on the side before he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer

"Fuck, I missed you Stel."

"What happened to no strings attached?" She looked at him, her hands falling on top of his.

"I still really missed you. Not just the sex, but you..." he shrugged. "You know I have..."

"That why we've hardly spoken in 12 months?" she looked at him.

"I emailed..." he frowned, one hand moving to run through his hair "You're the one that went silent 6 months ago."

"I was undercover..."

"You can be under the covers now too..." he grinned and she scoffed, shaking her head. "Is this really wise if we're gonna be working together?"

"Since when have I ever done anything wise?" he shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose slightly.

"You should try it sometime..." Stella said, patting his chest. She stepped back out of his hold, grabbed the bottle and took another drink before she walked to the bed and flopped down on it. "Assume the position JJ." she instructed him and he grinned, dropping down beside her and she handed him the bottle. Neither of them spoke for a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, having been in this situation many times before. Lying side by side, drinking, and just being close to one another. Jake took another mouthful of the liquor, stealing a glance at her, her damp hair pulled into a braid, the spattering of freckles that adorned her nose and cheeks evident following her being fresh from the shower, the trace of her jawline down her throat to the slight swell of cleavage he could see thanks to the neckline of her tank top... 

As she made a gesture for the bottle he handed it to her, and she took it, her eyes still fixed on the TV, and she grimaced, nodding towards the screen. Jake followed her gaze as it was cutting to a News flash.

"I said there would be some very nervous senators..." he quipped, as Stella shook her head as the footage of Capitol Hill rolled, the news reporter carrying the story about a number of arrests linked to a suspected Military Raid earlier that day. They both knew, however, that any arrests would have been made hours previously, as soon as the information they had syphoned had hit the CIA base. The entire operation was timed to a tee.

"Hope they throw away the key. Sick bastards." she muttered "Honestly Jakey some of the stuff I saw...it was fucking disgusting." Jake looped an arm round her shoulder and she lay her head against his chest, her arm looping over his stomach as he gave her a squeeze before she sat up again, taking the bottle. She took a large gulp, larger than her previous ones and pulled a face as she swallowed, her throat bobbing and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants. She looked at him for a moment, their eyes locking and his gaze flicked down to her mouth before it moved back up again as he took the bottle off her and blindly reached behind him, placing it on the table besides her bed.

"Wanna fuck?" he asked.

She shrugged "Sure, why not?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, his lips crashed to hers in a bruising kiss and he smirked against her mouth as she straddled him, his hands falling to her hips as her mouth hungrily worked against his. Their lips moulded together in a well-known practice, her tongue teasing against his own before she pulled back, gently biting his bottom lip as she went, drawing a groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his eyes flickering open to lock onto hers. 

“You know…” Stella sighed, drawing back slightly to cup Jake's face in her fingertips “I'm liking this..." she traced her fingers lightly across his goatee, and he smiled at her as she reached up and took his glasses off, dropping them carelessly next to the bottle of Jack by their side. 

“It's supposed to make me look meaner…” he murmured, his lips gently brushing hers as their noses bumped together.

"Doesn't work, especially not with the bleach in your hair." she mumbled as his mouth trailed a path across her jawline and down the length of her neck "You're still that adorably yet slightly dorky 18 year old that took my cherry." "You took mine too Stel." he mumbled and her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "How could I forget?" her voice was nothing more than a whisper as his fingers flexed on her hips, his groin pushing upwards, his hardness pressing into her core through their clothing. "I'm glad to report you got a lot better at it since then..."

 "Well, you'd know..."  he said, his tongue licking a line back up her throat as his hands grabbed at the bottom of her tank top. She moved to allow him to take it off and Jake looked down at her bare chest as she reciprocated the favour, pulling his top over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raising his head he gently nipped at the base of her neck, his hands sliding up her bare sides, calloused fingers ever so gentle over her ribs as his tongue flicked at her nipple as he took it in his mouth, drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation. 

God it really had been far too long

.Unable to take it anymore he flipped her over so she was on her back, his body sliding downwards as he dispensed of her shorts and then his own, before he kissed his way back up from her ankle all the way to that thigh tattoo which was ingrained in his memory forever. Well, most of it was anyway...

 "This...this is new. " he said gently, his fingers tracing the outline of the large, pink flower that sat at the top, almost in the crease of her hip.

"Go Petunias." she looked at him and he let out a bark of a laugh as she snaked her right leg in between both of his and using a well-executed move she threw him on his back drawing a loud huff of surprise from him.

"Jesus Stel, give a guy a warning" he mumbled as she slid over him. "Where's the fun in that?" she whispered,  brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other as his eyes fully closed in pleasure, large hands gripping at her thighs, then her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down, her warmth engulfing him entirely.

."JJ..." she mumbled,  her hands falling to his chest as she held herself still "Jakey, look at me...wanna see you." He opened his eyes, locking them onto her own which were half-lidded with desire as she began to move. Her hips rotated as she ground down again, and again, his own rising to meet hers as she did.

"Fuck, Stel..." he sighed, "Still feel so good baby girl..."

She grinned, and bit her lip as her hips moved again, his hands sliding down to grab at her ass as she pushed down harshly, causing him to grunt as she ground down against him, tilting herself forward finding that angle that always got her off. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move slightly faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every roll of her hips, Jensen's eyes which were still locked onto hers grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her onto him, grinding upwards further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands moved round her back, pulling her close to him as he kissed and sucked at her neck, biting at that spot beneath her ear whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Stella rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him, pulsing strongly as her orgasm washed over her and he let out a groan of his own as her head fell forward to his shoulder, her groans soft in his ear. . .“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, and without giving her a moment to recover he flipped her onto her back, his hands lacing with hers at the side of her head as he began to thrust into her, his pace harder and faster.

"Jake..." she gasped, as his lips crashed onto hers, swallowing her cries as her nails dug into the back of his hands whilst he thrust into her with deep, powerful strokes. The sweat was beading over his brow as he broke the kiss, his head falling forward slightly as he felt his own relief beginning to creep up on him. He tugged his right hand free, sliding it down between them to rub at her sensitive nub as he pounded into her voraciously and she gave a loud wail her head tipping back into the pillow, her breathing ragged.

"Come on Stel..." he gasped, "Come on baby, give it to me..." And give it she did, her body shook underneath him as her mouth dropped open and she let out a loud noise which bubbled from her throat, as she once more succumbed to the wave of pleasure washing over her. The feel of her clenching around him was enough, and Jensen followed her right over the edge into delirium, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppy, riding his own orgasm out before he collapsed down on top of her, completely and utterly blissed out. They lay in silence, both struggling to gain control of their breathing in the aftermath, not a sound being made by either of them bar gasps for air as the TV continued to play in the background. Stella gently moved her hands up and down the expanse of muscle on his back, his skin slick to the touch and Jensen laid still, relishing the touch of her fingertips as they danced over his body.

Eventually he raised his head, propping himself up on his elbows as he gave her a lazy grin which she reciprocated. His hands cupped her cheeks, his lips seeking hers out once more for a kiss that was this time soft, gentle, a stark cry from the ardent ones they'd shared before. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, gently brushing their noses together before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy from the exertion of the last 15 minutes or so. 

"Welcome to The Losers, Stel" he grinned.

**** Chapter 1