#( thread

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 13.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 6.7K

Summary: flashback three - a look at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, then finally - your eighteenth birthday, when everything changes

Warnings: depictions of violence, sparring, furlan is my baby boy, isabel is my light, alcohol, partying, mention of vomiting (doesn't happen), hurt/comfort, pinning, sensual themes, levi's in deep shit now

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CHAPTER 13 - FLASHBACK: THREE

note: the next couple of chapters will be heavily influenced by the ova 'no regrets'. they are my interpretations of the material. please watch those episode first, otherwise you will get spoiled on elements revolving around levi's backstory.

“All those years of street fighting and that’s the best you got?”

“Oh shut up, Ackerman.”

You’re getting pretty sick of tasting an invasion of dirt in your mouth every time Levi Ackerman harshly slams you into the ground, demanding surrender. Forget seeing stars — you’re mapping constellations every time you go toe-to-toe in his sparring sessions.

Whether it’s from a sweep of your legs, an arm popping behind your back, a head-butt out of a grapple, this hurts.

Yet you still show up during downtime anyway.

Maybe the years of running recklessly with Furlan’s crew has helped you lose a couple of brain cells along the way.

.

.

.

.

Fifteen comes and goes in a flash.

That first night, the choice to escape the clutches of your adoptive keeper, was met with little to no thought.

Levi held out his hand to you, and you chose to never look back.

When you arrived at Levi's apartment, you're surprised to find an unassuming apartment with a set of stairs leading to the second floor where he lives with Furlan Church. You carried burdensome baggage through the building’s threshold, as the only things you had to your name were the clothes on your back and the bruising on your skin.

Eventually the bruises lightened, and Levi keeps his promise:

No one comes after you.

No one dares — not when you were under his wing.

Much to your surprise, Furlan Church was excited for your arrival. Thrilled, even, that Levi could get you to agree to joining their budding heist team.

When you first stepped into the apartment, you were greeted with the presence of a lanky boy sporting a lopsided smile and soft, spiky ash-blonde still wet from an evening shower. He wore similar clothes to Levi: a button-down hung wide open to display his chest and slacks a little too big for his frame.

Furlan was so much different than what the streets claimed he was: most suggested he was cunning and angry, a force to be reckoned with, but what stood in front of you that night was simply a teenager just like you looking to change the hand that starves him.

While bringing someone else into the mix meant the apartment lost a little space, it was more comfortable than anything you had ever experienced in your life.

They gave you your own room. A bed to sleep on. A small dresser for the possessions you don’t own. Towels. Food in your belly.

Given his smaller frame, you were forced to rely on Levi’s old clothes until you were able to find — more like steal — threads of your own. The only gotcha was the promise to keep them clean, neat, pressed and folded.

He wouldn’t let you abuse what little he owned, and you learned quickly just how much of a clean freak this mirage of a boy really was.

Spotless. Pristine. Scrubbing here, sweeping there—

Every day and every night.

And you were expected to contribute, so you did.

For weeks the three of you coexisted under the same roof.

Furlan was funny. Levi won every card game.

It felt like your own version of family.

(Something that wasn’t twisted, gnarled, from darkness.)

After some time had passed, the boys would finally let you in on their most precious secret:

The reason Levi Ackerman and Furlan Church were so successful in comparison to the other gangs floating around this godforsaken city.

“So it’s true.”

You sit on the dilapidated couch while you watch Levi clean the nooks and crannies of the boxy silver gear lying on the table.

Furlan beams on the opposite end of the table, arm lazily draped against its surface.

“Ch’yeah. Kind of amazing, isn’t it?”

Omni-directional Mobile Gear.

The shit you can only get from the military.

Your brows knit with curiosity. “How’d you manage that?”

“Ha — it wasn’t easy,” Furlan tells you, re-crossing his legs. “Took weeks to plan.”

“And you know how to use it?” you ask, but it’s not to him.

Levi never pauses his motions, but his eyes flicker up when he detects your vocal direction. “Well enough,” the dark-haired boy provides. “If the pigs can learn how to use it on the surface, then it wouldn’t be so hard to teach ourselves.”

“Damn…”

Leaning over, your forearms press hard into the tops of your thighs.

“When people said they thought they saw some of our own zipping around the Underground, I thought they were maybe drinking from sewage.”

“Sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner,” Furlan laments, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing against you—”

“But it’s a big secret,” you finish for him, nodding in understanding. “I get it. It was smart.”

“And now we’ll teach you.”

Furlan glances to his left when Levi speaks with certainty.

Levi takes a minute longer to linger his eyes on you before going back to the gear. He continues to address you.

“We needed a fighter who knows how to stay on their feet.”

“Ah, so that’s why you got the shit beat out of me — to see if I can handle ODM gear?” you ask sarcastically, directing your gaze to Furlan. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“What? It was only fair, code is code. I couldn’t give you special treatment!” Furlan yelps. “C’mon, just because Levi endorsed you—”

“Oi,” Levi interrupts, narrowing his eyes to the other boy.

You slowly grin. “Endorsed? This is news to me.”

“Drop it,” Levi warns.

“Dropped,” Furlan promises.

You want to keep pushing, but instead you stand to your feet and walk to the table where the stolen ODM gear lay.

You run a finger over a metallic edge, noting just how hefty the equipment must actually be.

“What’s so tough about this shit, anyway?”

“Well, it’s…” Furlan starts to speak up, but he grimaces with an unspoken apology. The two exchange looks, both in the know — and you’ll soon be, too. “A little jerky.”

“In what way?”

“As in you have to use your core and keep your balance. It’s harder than it looks.”

Furlan’s not fucking kidding.

Your first attempt at harnessing into ODM gear is rough. Wall into wall into wall — the recovering shiner on your forehead now sports fresh purples and blues in the second try; the third, the fourth.

Levi uses the equipment seamlessly, flying around the cavernous walls of this hellscape like it’s a natural gift.

Furlan’s just about as good, consistently leaving you in the dust.

Day in and day out you follow their instructions and practice until every muscle is sore in your body; until the feel of the equipment on your hips, in your hands is an extension of yourself; until things just click.

Zipping from buildings, increasing velocity, landing on your two feet.

It brings you that much closer to a power so few Underground City citizens possess.

Little by little, you learn about the mirage of a boy with your life in his hands. Levi Ackerman is a fully actualized person, with quirks and aspirations and feelings — though you’d be hard pressed to know them yourself, as he keeps everything close to the vest.

He is stoic, calm in even the worst situations, and particular. He fights with clean brutality. You eventually find out that the man who trained Levi wasn’t his father, but Kenny the Ripper — a boogeyman you and your siblings had heard about in passing without fully realizing you’d ever crossed paths.

None of the scary stories about Kenny the Ripper involved a ward in his possession, so Levi is just as much of a ghost as you are.

Although the story of his upbringing passes through blurred lines and inferred details, you come to learn that most — if not all — of Levi’s swift tricks are passed down through meticulous training and trials by Kenny himself.

(No wonder he’s so ruthless.)

After a few weeks, Levi’s willing to show you some of his best hand-to-hand tricks himself.

Although you two possess completely different fighting styles — one erratic, the other calculated — it culminates and meshes somewhere in the middle, where ferocity and strategy marry.

Fighting becomes fun, whether either of you admit it or not.

A stress release after a long day.

A constant in an eternal night.

You never ask how Kenny taking him under his wing came to pass, but he never asks about your history with Mother, either.

It’s better that way. Not talking about it dissolves the impact Mother had on your life.

It lessens both of your former guardians authority.

(As for Mother, she never tries to find you. Even when you walk the old paths where street fights continue, you never see her face in passing. Rumors spread that her drinking problem got the best of her. You imagine Levi has something to do with her expiration, whether he'll ever admit it or not.)

Petty theft, money heists, intimidation — you rack up the offenses against your name and double the notoriety of your trio.

The citizens of the Underground look twice when you walk by. They never once try to touch or attack you again.

Church, Ackerman, James.

Always together. Always in sync.

It’s paradise.

.

.

.

.

  Sixteen is a slow burn.

Complicated heists mean complicated teams, and Furlan puts himself in charge of divvying up the goods while Levi investigates potential candidates. A team of two turns into three, three turns into four, and soon enough there is a network of reliable bodies willing to lay their lives on the line for a chance to work with the three of you.

Sometimes the job requires Levi to leave for days, but he makes it a point to come back to this cramped apartment with bags full of food and goodies for your hard-working gang.

(You’ve noticed he is particular about smuggling tea back home, particularly the leaves only available to purchase on the surface. It’s ballsy, but he gets it done.)

In a strange way, you miss when he’s away.

And when he's away, it's usually just you and Furlan — until it isn't.

Because Isabel Magnolia, a short and spunky ginger-haired menace, becomes an unexpected fourth addition in the leadership squad.

In a testosterone-fueled household, the younger woman is a breath of fresh air for you. Idealistic, brave, and bold above all else — Levi and Furlan stumbled into her while she was in the midst of an escape from Military Police.

Something about making unauthorized trips to the city stairwell, illegally ignoring the tolls to do some of the most ludicrous shit that only a teenager would do.

Like save baby birds from the surface, as if they’d somehow survive down in the Underground.

(That bird did. Furlan swears it’s the magic of Isabel’s optimism.)

Isabel ends up sleeping in your room in a makeshift cot on the floor, squawking your ear off in excitement to the point of a headache.

Still, it’s nice to have company, especially when the boys are recruiting or completing deals.

The four of you as a unit feels right. By now you’ve come to appreciate Furlan’s jokes, admire Levi’s seriousness, partake in Isabel’s dreams; they’ve each played a part in cracking your own hardened shell, shaping you into this —

Not the James your Mother created, but the James your friends accepted.

You’ve even told them your first name, the real name you were born with. They keep that name like a sacred oath, something special those three (and only those three) can say. It becomes something of a last name for you, something to be respected. The rest of the gang know you solely as James, yet you've grown to no longer loathe being called such.

(Not when it’s on their lips.)

And you like her — this person named James.

You like that she’s capable of being reliable to a team of people with their own strengths.

You like that Isabel gives her hope in the middle of her babbles at the stroke of midnight.

You like that Furlan discovers what her real laugh sounds like — straight from her belly and up to her chest — and it’s loud and obnoxious and genuine.

The sound even gets Levi to crack, if only for a twitch at the corner of his lips.

Shit.

Levi.

You like that he’s particular with his teas and trusts you enough to share the reasons why.

You like that he puts his hands on your hips when you’re practicing ODM gear.

You like that he isn’t afraid to touch your sweat-matted hair after a spar to tuck it behind your ear, like you’re nothing dirty to him.

And you realize the James you’re becoming will do just about anything Levi Ackerman asks.

.

.

.

.

  Seventeen is complicated.

Messy is a better word — Yinter’s massive fuck-up on the South Region heist puts a halt on any and all jobs for the rest of the year.

One of the newest recruits, Yinter, panicked in the midst of his attempt at robbery, causing the rest of his squad to almost get caught by meandering Military Police.

Cleaning up the tracks of an inexperienced team took several weeks of tireless labor and moving supplies around, but the gang managed.

What once ran as a worried whisper in the Underground is now loud and on the tips of the MPs tongues, placing a target on the backs of four cocky teenagers leading the charge.

All of you should have known navigating the crime world by the skin of your teeth was risky.

At the beginning, the idea of a lawless gang was beautiful.

However, Furlan’s a little more of a dreamer in the sense that he sees the unattainable and runs with it. Sometimes his head is so far up his ass that he thinks none of this will blow back onto any of you.

Maybe it can damage some of the runts, sure, but he thinks leadership’s plans and aspirations are fool proof.

You disagree. Loudly.

Now you’re certain Furlan’s sometimes pissed that Levi ever suggested they recruit you with your constant pushback of his ideas. Levi never seems to express any doubt towards you, but that doesn’t stop him from being the Devil’s Advocate thorn in your side.

Sometimes you and Levi Ackerman bicker.

Sometimes it's a lot of bickering — about the little things like team preferences and heist plans, times and locations.

Yet more often than not, the two of you always land in the same archaic loop: fist-to-fist sparring, taking out your frustrations in the most natural way you know how. Ducking and dodging until your tempers simmer and you run out steam.

Until frustration turns into playful, heated banter.

A secret language for two.

(You'll never stop fighting, you realize too little too late, but neither will he.)

You kick and you punch and you watch Levi slam you into the ground again and again and again — the scrawny teenager always ends up on top of you, wrists pinned to your head, declaring your surrender.

Glare to glare, out of breath and spent, the fight ends when you burst into laughter from how scrunched his nose gets when he’s hell bent on winning.

It used to be funny.

Yet with each passing week, each dying month, warmth surges through your belly when he pins you down.

It would be easy, you think, to do something stupid.

You can’t afford to be the stupid one of the group.

.

.

.

.

  Last week marked your eighteenth birthday.

A party is reckless, but Furlan wants to celebrate something after the Yinter accident with the spoils of the last successful heist: booze, food, rationed cigarettes, the works.

You aren’t naïve to what partying means, even if you’ve never partaken in the act yourself. The Underground is full of red-light districts if you know where to look: people piss away their money to eliminate their troubles in the arms of others, in the bottle of a stolen vintage whiskey, in the spices that can ascend far past the surface into somewhere better.

Levi is sorely against the idea.

Furlan, for once, pulls seniority.

Which leads to why Levi’s so damn determined to kick your ass right now — if he can’t vocalize how annoyed he is, then he sure as hell will exert enough energy to pass out before the event even starts.

“All those years of street fighting and that’s the best you got?”

“Oh shut up, Ackerman.”

A nonchalant boot digs into your side, bringing you back to the Underground.

“Get up.”

You grit your teeth, counting down the seconds. “Actually, I kinda dig it down here.”

“Seriously—?”

It’s enough of a distraction to earn yourself much-needed time to reset and win.

Pulling as hard as you possibly can, you use your core and sweep his leg. Levi makes a noise of surprise as he’s airborne, only to crash beside you in a nasty thud.

You crawl up the young man's body to press your arm into his windpipe, daring him to fight back. Your knees cradle his hips, trapping him beneath.

“Dirty trick,” he spits, gritting his teeth, but it doesn’t feel as if he’s trying to escape very fast.

(A phrase he's picked up from you like a bad habit.)

You shrug a shoulder, pressing harder onto his windpipe. He sputters, but his face remains just as neutral as ever.

“What’s got you so pissy today?”

“What?” Levi asks from beneath you. His hands curl around your elbow and fist, but he doesn’t push your forearm away just yet.

“You’re particularly moody.”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

He narrows his eyes. “And I’m letting you win.”

“Are not.”

“Wanna bet?”

Easing up on his windpipe, you crawl off of him and extend a hand to help pull him up to a seated position.

Levi begrudgingly takes it, hoisting himself up on the flat of his palm. "Thought we didn’t do draws."

“I don’t wanna look like shit before the party, so I’m calling a draw.”

“So you’re admitting I was winning?”

You roll your eyes into the back of your head, swatting his hand from yours. Levi uses the momentum to prop himself up with his palms behind him, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. You stay with your legs folded like a pretzel, hands idle in your lap.

“I’ve never drank before,” you murmur with an excited melody to your tone.

Levi grimaces. “It’s disgusting.”

“I won’t know until I try, right?”

“Can’t you take my word for it?”

“But your taste is so awful.”

It’s a lie, but the immediate scowl sent your way is worth the dramatics. You smile it off.

“I mean, Furlan seems to think it’s fun.”

“Furlan is a dumbass,” Levi replies. “I thought you already knew that.”

“I do, but I still want to at least try it. If I hate it, then you can tell me I told you so. Deal?”

“And if you love it, then that means I’m on babysitting duty.”

"Babysitting?”

“Yeah. I don’t need your drunk ass fighting new recruits.” His scowl deepens. “Or ruining the fucking furniture if you get sick.”

“So pessimistic,” you tease. “Levi, you don’t have to take care of me.”

The conversation dissipates.

Levi keeps his eyes on you for a second longer before turning a chin to stare straight ahead.

You continue to watch him, taking in the sharpness of his nose on his profile.

At nineteen years old, he’s grown into his once sullen face with high cheekbones and a sharp chin. His thin arms are toned under the white button-up he sports, torso cinched by the auburn vest. His fingers have small cuts, but they’re slender. Strong.

You see the way girls look at him when he passes.

He never seems to notice.

.

.

.

.

      “Ja-haaaames!”

A shrill and slurred attempt at your last name brings you back to the rowdiness of the room.

Despite Levi’s best efforts, the party goes without a hitch. A dozen, maybe two, have shown up to enjoy the spoils stolen by the Military Police: at least a crate of wine, a few half-polished bottles of whiskey, and a multitude of cigarette cartons pass through the hands of the hard-working legion that made it happen.

The lack of food in this area makes it easy for people to get sloppy on next to nothing. Within a shot or two — cheered to your name, as if eighteen years of your life in the Underground mean anything at all — half of the crew is loud and rowdy.

Laughing.

Horsing around.

Kissing.

You don’t remember when it is you dissociated from the noise, but it’s Isabel’s voice that guides you back to this cramped little apartment full of people.

“Hello, welcome back,” she greets with a giggle, handing over a tiny medicine cup of a clear liquid. “You’re out, and I need you to be on my level.”

Except you are on her level — where Isabel gets louder and more rambunctious on alcohol, you’ve become quiet, contemplative. You haven’t been able to feel your nose in at least an hour. Everything is warm, deliciously so, and your muscles don’t ache like they usually do.

“Should you even be drinking that stuff, Isa?”

“What, this? Yeah, I’m good.”

“But you’re only—”

“What do ya think about the party so far? Here.” Interrupting her own question, she places the tiny cup in your hand and taps it with her own. “Cheers to you, oh fearless one.”

“Oh stop,” you moan, taking the tiny shot with ease.

The first shot almost made you spit up the drink before it could pass down your throat. The second you forced down, clenching your teeth to air out the burn on your tongue.

Furlan was right: it gets easier every time.

“How many is that?” Isabel asks, flopping back at the wall you lean against.

“Four. Five. I don’t know, I lost count,” you answer honestly, peering down at the empty cup with scrutiny. “I feel like this is going to bite me in the ass.”

Isabel cackles, bumping her shoulder with yours. “That day is not today! C’mon, sis, don’t hide. We already have a party pooper, so you can not join Levi.”

“Levi?” you ask, blinking over to her. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Exactly. Bro’s avoiding everyone like a scaredy cat. God… Levi and James. James and Levi.” Isabel groans into her cup, sipping in contemplation. You already hate where this might be going. “That’s a topic I have wanted to—” She hiccups, taking your medicine cup. “—bring up for a while now.”

If you weren’t so preoccupied at the sound of Levi’s name, then perhaps you’d have sobered up from the neon red sign telling you to avoid this conversation at all costs.

Isabel talks over the volume of the room.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” you repeat.

“You’re going to make me say it?” For a second, your blood returns to your body. It’s spiked with an anxiety you cannot verbalize. “You two were gone for pret-ty long time this afternoon.”

“Yeah,” you quickly solve. “It was sparring hour. We always do that.”

“Not usually for that long, though.” Under a curtain of eyelashes, the redhead blinks up at you with a hope that seizes your head. “So….?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“We’re friends,” you blurt. “Colleagues, actually, which is a step below friends.”

Isabel blows disappointed raspberries. “Furlan said you two go way back.”

“We do, but—”

“Levi hand-picked you to join the gang.”

“Not really, he—”

“All he ever does is hang out with you.”

“That is not true,” you snip, itching to run. “I mean — okay, some of it is true, but I’m not the only person he talks to. Shit, Isa, I’ve known him since I was a kid. He pulled me out of a bad situation and we — no, it’s nothing like that.”

“Uh-huh.” Isabel mimes zipping her lips closed with her thumb and index finger, only to toss the invisible key somewhere in the crowd.

“Isabel.” You turn towards her, eyes widening in a desperation that even surprises your drunken state. “Get the — get that fucking key back, we aren’t—”

“We aren’t what?”

A deeper voice breaks the moment of insanity, causing Isabel to stare behind you with rounded eyes and a dropped jaw.

You stare back at her, cursing her stupid ginger mop of a head with every crude word under the sun.

Then she does about the worst thing she could do at a time like this.

“Hi, bro! Gotta go!”

“Isa—!”

Too late.

She piles in with the rest of the sloppiness, leaving you to deal with the man over your shoulder.

When you turn, Levi is there — eye-level in height and frowning, brow quirked with mild interest. The shirt he usually has so neatly aligned is popped at the collar and buttoned down to his sternum.

“You’re drunk,” is all he greets with, and the tinge of red on your face only increases.

“A little,” you admit.

To your horror, you see it: the way his lips part while he waits for an explanation, the fall of black strands over his eyes, his expanse of his naked chest—

You’re friends. You are two people who found each other in one fucked up place. You work together, live together, survive together.

So why would Isabel feel the need to open a door that you had no clue was unlocked?

“Oi.” Squinting, Levi leans in to study the drain of color from your face. “Are you—”

“I don’t feel so good.”

You don’t wait for Levi to register your interruption, instead curving past him towards the open door leading to the dead air of the Underground City.

Walking until there aren’t any bodies to stifle your next breath, you round the corner for a sense of privacy and breathe in deep through your nose.

Drunk. That’s all Isabel is — babbling and silly and drunk.

“Maybe pull your hair out of your face if you’re going to puke.”

Shit, did he—

Craning your chin over your shoulder, your worst nightmare is confirmed: Levi Ackerman stands a mere few feet from where you’ve hidden yourself, facial expression dripping with annoyance.

His arms cross over his chest once your eyes connect.

“I’m not doing it for you,” he adds when you say nothing.

The nausea dissolves in an instant, leaving you with a very heavy weight on your shoulders.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I just…”

Unable to find the right words to explain yourself, you twirl and smack into the cobblestone wall. Inch by inch you drop in height, dragging down its cold surface until you’re seated on the ground. Levi’s brows fly high, but he doesn’t move.

“This is all really surreal right now.”

Levi bites. “In what way?”

“As in I never thought I’d make it to my tenth birthday, much less my eighteenth birthday, and here we are celebrating it. No one in our house actually knows it’s a real accomplishment,” you admit in the haze of the liquor. “Everyone is happy to have us, and I’m happy to have us, but I feel this… this butterfly anxiety in my stomach every time someone says 'to many more years' like we have guaranteed years and it’s—”

The sound of his boots gently tap closer until something presses against your arm. When you lull your head to look in the direction of the sound, it’s Levi sitting beside you.

In the dirt.

A beat passes.

“You’re gonna get dirty,” you mumble.

“Don’t remind me.”

Drawing your knees to your chest, the two of you sit in silence for what feels like an hour.

You can’t pretend to know what’s going through his head — if he heard an ounce of what Isabel said, if he can hear your heart beating wildly in your chest, if he even understands the gravity of what he did.

What he’s done through these last few years.

“Why did you do it?”

The question is barely audible, but you feel Levi shift to watch you.

Head bowed to your knees, you catch your wrist between your thumb and finger and squeeze.

“Do what?”

“You gave me a second chance, Levi.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did,” you argue firmly, “and I never understood why. I’m glad you did, because I thought— I didn’t even see myself ever getting out of that hell, but it—”

“James.” You quiet at the soft snip of your name. “Don’t spiral. It’s the alcohol talking.”

“It’s me talking, Levi,” you argue firmly. “We always skirt around this shit. We… fight it out or whatever so we never have to bring it up. Someone has to finally say something.”

“If I give you your present early, then will you knock it off?”

You perk, chin lifting from its perch on your arm to stare at the other boy like he’s grown a second head.

He scowls, hand buried deep in his trouser pocket.

“My what?” you softly ask, and for the first time, Levi deflates.

At first it’s physical: inch by inch his body lessens its typical intensity, from shoulders to chest, arms to legs. He slumps beside you, head bowed with cascading black bangs covering his eyes.

He continues to fish around in his pocket before producing his open palm to you.

In the center lay an unassuming box, brown and thin, without labels or bows.

“Your present,” he reiterates like it’s painful.

“You got me a…”

“It’s your birthday.”

“I know it is, but you didn’t have to—”

When your eyes connect, you see it: the nerves that settle in his eyes, at the corners of his lips, as he waits with this damn box in his hand.

“What?” he asks, flat.

The walls start to build brick by cautious brick.

The window of vulnerability is closing.

Abruptly you lean forward, grabbing his hand to keep him from retreating.

Levi sways with the sudden movement, breath hitching at the way your other hand closes on top of your joined hands, trapping it.

“Don’t.”

Don’t run, is what you want to say.

Don’t hide, when you know it’s what he wants to do.

Levi stills at your command, and you slowly slip the box from his palm.

“What is it?”

“Isn’t the point of a shitty gift to open it as a surprise?” he rhetorically snaps, throat bobbing with a swallow.

Eventually you loosen your grip and free his hand. He draws it back into his lap before his hand can touch the dirt below.

You sit straighter, mindful of the way you remove the lid of the rectangular container.

Fragile, because you have no idea what Levi could possibly—

“Oh.”

Silver.

Dainty and small but more beautiful than anything you’ve ever witnessed in the Underground, you stare slack-jawed at the silver necklace nestled in a blanket of tissue paper.

Even in the forever night of the city, the jewelry gleams — and at its sloped apex sits a gemstone, smokey and small —

“If you hate it—”

“Hate it?” you interrupt in a gasped bark, stunned Levi would suggest anything of the sort.

For once, emotion shows: his eyes widen, lips parted with an apology he cannot find as you rip the necklace out of the box to hold it to your chest in a balled fist.

“How could I hate it?”

“I didn’t know if you liked silver,” he admits lamely, caught off guard.

“How the hell did you get this?”

“Bought it.”

Now it’s your turn to stare like a deer caught in a lantern’s light.

“I knocked the guy’s lights out after, so don’t look at me like I’m some fucking saint.”

He didn’t steal this.

With his own earnings, he bought this — for you?

“Why go through that trouble? This is… it has to be surface made, right?”

“A while back, you said you don’t own anything,” Levi explains, the tips of his ears turning a shade of pink. He reaches to smooth rogue baby hairs away from his face and settles his elbow on a raised knee. “Nothing proper, anyway. Now you do.”

You don’t own anything.

He’s right. You hold the necklace like stardust in the palm of your hand, studying every centimeter of its gleam.

It’s such a thoughtful idea, such a beautiful gift, that your throat closes up with budding emotion.

All of this trouble — for you.

“I might cry,” you tease, but it isn’t entirely untrue.

Levi groans like he saw that inconvenience coming.

“For fuck’s sake, do not cry.”

Then something otherworldly happens.

You both stare at the other and smile.

Although his is microscopic, it’s there: upturned corners and a crinkle in his eye, face exposed with his hair out of the way. You bite your lower lip to avoid grinning too hard, enamored with the sight before you.

The party feels so far away when Levi’s looking at you like this.

All you hear — all you see — is him.

“I might need help,” you murmur, pinching the chain between your thumb and index finger to hold out the small piece of jewelry to him.

“You think I know how these things work?”

“You’re smart. Figure it out, Ackerman.”

You hold your hair higher and turn your back to him, mimicking the things you’ve seen women do in the illustrated books Isabel’s smuggled from the surface people.

It feels right, especially when his fingertips brush along the slope of your neck.

Before you can stop yourself, a small gasp bursts from your lips. Levi either doesn’t hear or ignore it, because he’s reaching around to lay the necklace lightly on your collarbone without comment.

His fingers continue to touch the nape of your neck, careful not to pinch or scratch.

(To think hands like his can be soft.)

“That okay?” he asks behind you, his hot breath peppering your skin.

You glance down at your chest, touching the tiny gemstone with adoration.

“Perfect,” you say.

It really is.

(And it's yours. It's all yours.)

When you turn your chin to look at him, you don’t expect the proximity of his face — Levi’s nose is so close that you can see the gentle faded freckles that would have thrived with the sun.

He doesn’t slink away, doesn’t move a muscle, and you’re trapped staring at his mouth expecting an insult, a name, anything.

Nothing comes.

Instead you both remain here in the heat of two beating hearts, too afraid to run.

(Too afraid to ruin.)

Furlan said you two go way back.

“We should go inside.”

Levi, albeit strained, murmurs between you. His breath tickles your lips.

The silver around your neck shifts when your head gently shakes.

“It’s too crowded in there,” you argue without much fire.

From this angle, you can’t see his eyes. He’s too busy staring down at your mouth.

“It’s cold.”

“I’m not cold,” you tell him honestly.

“No?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Must be the alcohol,” he surmises.

“It isn’t.” You’ve never been so serious in your life. “I feel sober now. Just…”

“Just what?” he asks a little too quickly.

You miss his gaze a second too late — when his eyes raise, yours drop to his lips.

His boots become one with the ground beneath you, stuck in place. You swear you hear his breath grow heavier, contemplative, and you know — know that you’re about to do that one stupid thing you’ve thought about for years.

“Tell me."

He whispers, and it shatters the glass barrier between you.

You bridge the gap and press your lips softly to his.

Levi's stiff as a board, as if his brain realizes what you've done before his body has. Eventually his chin dips forward, his lips fluttering across yours as he finds his breath.

Then he moves like a starving man that’s found his oasis.

His knee knocks into yours when he pushes, deepening his mouth’s position on yours. You fumble backwards, shoulder blades hitting the wall with a gasp. Both of your limbs fumble to grab the other’s face first, but his reflexes outshine yours.

Slow and deliberate, experimenting with the sensation, Levi kisses you. He kisses you.

You match his exploration, trembling with your hand curled around the back of his neck. He inhales sharply when your nails scratch gently against his skin, causing him to push against you more.

Like he’s drowning.

Like he doesn’t care if he ever breathes again.

Your body burns when his left hand drops from your cheek to lightly run along the gemstone at the cusp of that glittering silver necklace.

You gasp for air as your noses knock together, both silently eager to find a rhythm you can both sing to. A whimper escapes your throat when something wet runs along your lower lip. His hot breath mingles with your tongue, the sensation shooting straight to your lower belly.

Then Levi pulls away like he’s somehow hurt you, gray eyes wide and — scared.

Fearful, like he’s crossed a line.

Delirious from the high, you shake your head and run your hand through the buzzed undercut at the nape of his neck. “I wanna keep doing that.”

As if his eyes could get any wider.

Levi looks wrecked. He opens his mouth to say something, as if to find any good reason to dispute your request but closes it.

He simply nods.

Inching forward, Levi captures your lips with a tenderness you’ve never considered he could possess. He’s careful, caging your head in with both of his hands now and thumbs lazily stroking your cheeks.

You hate that you must taste like the very thing he despises.

Except Levi groans, body shuddering, and when he shifts you feel something hard against your hip. It’s fleeting, but it snaps your eyes open in surprise.

Levi’s eyes are squeezed shut. Focused.

(He doesn’t even look this determined when he’s flying around on stolen ODM gear.)

You sigh when he presses further into you, eliminating the space between, and kiss back with feverish intent. Levi drops a hand to steady your hip — whether to keep you still or to keep himself from suffocating you, you’re not sure.

Then your tongues accidentally touch again, and you can’t help but moan. “Levi.”

He grits his teeth, pulling away. “Don’t say it like that.”

Your heart seizes with uncertainty. “Say what?”

He must be in pain. His eyes are screwed shut. Then he shifts again, gliding his thigh between yours, and you know now.

Levi Ackerman is rock hard, fighting every demon in his body.

“My name,” he croaks, finally opening his eyes. His pupils are practically blown black.

“But I like your name,” you reason innocently, and he drops his forehead onto your shoulder.

“Fucking shit…” He must feel you expand your lungs to ask a question, because he stops you before you can start. “I’m fine. Just… give me a second.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, hand still buried in his hair.

His head instantly picks up, searching for your face. Studying. “For what?”

“That.” His brows move a microscopic fraction higher. “If you didn’t… I mean, I haven’t…”

“I haven’t either,” he confesses without ever explaining what he means.

Now it’s your turn to widen your stare.

Your first kiss was his first kiss, too.

Something giddy floods your system. Something stronger than any hard liquor can conjure.

“Do you regret it?” he asks under a murmur.

You adamantly shake your head. “Do you?”

It takes a breath, but he shakes his head back.

Your mouth burst into a bright smile, high on the adrenaline of the point of no return you’ve both crossed in the midnight.

Cheeks tinged with a pink hue, all Levi can do is stare — then he chuckles, breathless and bewildered.

His hand drops to take yours, tugging the both away from the wall. You follow with little resistance, squeezing his palm.

You both linger in the dark for a second longer.

Then he lets go, taking the lead back to the apartment.

You follow.

(Door, now and forever, unlocked.)

.

author's note: imagine sitting on this exact chapter since march 2023. i have been dying to post this shit. chapter 14 is taking a lil longer to write so i'll keep you posted if itll be next week or in 2 weeks.

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami @voidszoro @tanyeonn @chishiyasan @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @vigilancio

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Alec and bracelets

idk why, but i can imagine Alec wearing bracelets in his non-dominant hand all the time. Like, he never buys them. They are given to him by people who are important to him, and he chooses to wear them and never take them off.

Robert and Maryse probably won't like them at first, because "Honestly, Alec, it's a girly piece of jewelry! You're a man!" but Alec won't care, because people gave it to him because he meant something to them.

For a pre-teen or a teen Alec, he was always in the shadows of Jace, and he did get used to it, but knowing that his family or friends thought of him when they made or bought their bracelets, made young Alec feel like he mattered to someone.

His first bracelet was given to him when he was seven, by a five year old Izzy. It would be mismatched colors, but strong enough to not break unless sliced by a blade.

"Alec! I made you something!"

"What is it, Izzy?"

She took his hand and slid a mismatched colored bracelet onto his wrist. Alec stared in amazement, a little teary eyed at the thought of his five year old sister making him something.

"It's a sibling bracelet! See!"

"A - a sibling bracelet?"

"Yeah! It's a bond that means that we will never leave each other and always love each other!"

Alec wrapped his younger sister in his arms. He was not used to show a lot of physical affection to anyone. His parents had taught him that it made him look weak, and so, he avoided showing any sort of emotion. But, his sister had made him something, and he was not going to not show his sister that he appreciated it.

"Thank you, Izzy."

His second bracelet was given to him by Jace.

The boys were sitting on Izzy's bed. Isabelle had had a nightmare, and Jace and Alec had promised her to stay with her. Izzy never asked for help. She believed that it made her look like she was not strong enough. But, she knew she could always rely on her brothers.

Jace and Alec were bored. Jace had started messing around with some bands and threads that Izzy had. Alec had stayed quiet, and occasionally closed his eyes, listening to Izzy's breaths, and Jace's irritated sigh, and the creaking of the wood.

"Alec?"

Alec opened his eyes and looked at Jace. Jace avoided looking at Alec in the eye, and for the first time since Alec had met him, Jace looked shy and insecure.

"Yeah?"

"I made you something."

Jace handed him a bracelet made of black and gold threads, woven together. Alec understood that the black represented him because of his hair color, and the gold represented Jace, because of his hair color.

"I just noticed that you wear a bracelet, and Izzy told me that she made it for you when you were young. I just thought, that this could show that you will always be friend and my brother. And I hope that one day, we can be parabatai. I mean, you're the first person who doesn't eat up all the bullshit that I say and -"

"Jace. I like it. Thank you."

The smile that Jace had given Alec that night, had been the widest and most genuine smile he had ever seen on the boy's face.

Max had given him a bracelet before he left for Academy. Alec had been surprised, but forever grateful to have something that his little brother had given him.

"Alec?"

"Yeah?"

Alec was gearing up for a mission, but paused, when his brother had called for him. Wordlessly, Max handed him a bracelet made with a blue that matched their eyes, and a silver that just looked so pure with the blue.

"This is for you. I know that everyone thinks that Jace is my favorite brother, but he's not. Jace has a lot of stories to tell, and is more interesting. But, Alec, you've always been my favorite brother."

Alec had slid the bracelet along with Izzy's and Jace's, and choked out a "thank you". His brother had nodded, and then, ran out in search for his father, or maybe Izzy.

Max's words replayed in his head. You've always been my favorite brother.

It was a few weeks after Clary had come back from the Alternate Dimension, when he got his next bracelet.

"Hey, Alec?"

Alec looked up from his documents, "Yeah?"

Hesitantly, Clary moved forward, and kept a bracelet on his table. The bracelet had threads that were woven in an intricate pattern. It had six colors of thread on them, and he knew it formed the Pride Flag colors. Magnus had introduced him to the LGBTQ+ community.

"The Alec that I met in the Alternate Dimension was openly gay. And everyone around him accepted him for who he was. He was really confident and comfortable. He was happier, Alec."

Alec stared back without a word.

"He was wearing a bracelet like that. I drew it from my memory, and pulled it out, like with the Mortal Cup. I hope that one day, you'll be as happy as that Alec."

Alec stood from his chair, and wrapped Clary in an awkward hug. He had not realized how much it would mean to him to hear that there was a universe out there, where he was accepted for his sexuality and wasn't forced to change himself, until Clary told him.

"Thank you."

Clary smiled and nodded at him, before she turned and left the office. Alec stared at the bracelet for a few seconds, before he slipped it on his wrist, behind Max's and smiled softly at the colors.

Magnus had gotten him one too. It was a few months after Alec had gifted him the omamori charm, that Magnus carried with him everywhere.

Magnus had been so nervous. He did not understand why. This was Alexander! His boyfriend, Alexander!

"Alexander?"

"Hmm?"

"I got you something."

"Is it my birthday?"

"No. I just saw something and I thought of you and I bought it."

"What is it?"

"It's a bracelet. I was with a client today, and he was making these, and it just reminded me of you. So, I asked him if he would make one in Warlock blue and Shadowhunter gold."

Alec took it in his hand delicately, and stared at it.

"He said that he puts these charms or something, that was supposed to bring protection and good fate. You know, a little like the omamori charm that you gave me. And I thought that you could get a little more protection, because I mean, you kill demons for a living, and -"

Alec kissed him. He didn't know how else to shut him up, and show how much he appreciated the gesture at the same time. So, he kissed Magnus, pouring all of his emotions into it, begging Magnus wordlessly to know how thankful he was.

"So, I take it, you liked it?" Magnus asked, when they pulled back. Alec laughed.

Simon had given him a bracelet before Asmodeus took away his memories.

Alec was supporting Magnus, when Simon approached him. Asmodeus was waiting for Simon, ready to take away his memories.

Simon took off the bracelet he wore. His father had given it to him when he was a child. It had three brown threads on it, and the center thread had a silver arrow on it.

Simon handed it to Alec, and said, "My father gave it to me when I was a child. I know that I won't have any memory of any of you, but I know that I will remember that bracelet. If I ever see you guys again, at least, I'll know that I knew you, and that your family - this family - and you were someone important to me. Thank you, Alec."

Izzy and Clary were sobbing behind them. Alec was stunned. Simon and him were never close, but they had a mutual respect for each other.

Asmodeus took Simon away, and the rest of them returned to New York. Alec had added the bracelet to the collection he had on his wrist. Clary had explained to him, that Simon's father had made it for Simon at a fair, and had told him that as long as Simon wore it, his father would always be with him.

Alec had cried that night. He hated to admit it, but he missed the nerd.

It was a few years later when Alec got his next bracelet. Magnus and Alec had adopted their second son, Rafael. It had taken some time for him to warm up to Alec and Magnus.

"Daddy?"

Alec looked up from his work. Rafael was sitting on the couch beside him. He looked at Alec with wide, innocent eyes.

"Yes, Rafe?"

Rafael pulled out a bracelet from his pocket. Alec and Magnus knew what it was. It was the only thing that Rafael had from his biological family. It was a single thread, with one bead on it.

"My real daddy used to wear this. But, now, you're my daddy. So, I want you to wear it."

Alec held out his hand, and Rafael tied it around his wrist, behind all the thin bracelets he wore. When he was done, Alec ruffled his son's hair, and smiled at him. Rafael smiled back, and leaned against his father.

His younger son, Max, had made one for Alec, like Izzy, Jace, and Max had.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

Alec laughed, and picked up his three year old son in his arms, throwing him in the arm. Max giggled loudly, and Magnus and Rafael followed Max to where he was greeting Alec at the door.

"Hi, Max! How was your day?"

"I made you something, Daddy!"

"Really? What is it?"

Max held a small black thread with colorful, glittery beads on them. He put it against Alec's neck, and said, "I made you a necklace, Daddy! Like, Bapak has!"

"But, Max! This is so small for my neck! Why don't you tie it around my wrist? With the other ones that I have?"

Max pouted for a moment, before nodded. Alec held out his wrist, and Max tried to tie it around his wrist. Magnus, magically, tied the thread around Alec's wrist. Max beamed at his father, who beamed back at him.

Alec put his son down, and greeted the rest of his family.

But, he won't wear all of them all the time. There were too many of them, and after he would become Consul, he would have to look professional. Eight bracelets won't make him look professional, and he knew that.

So, he would ask Magnus to charm them, that if he ever lost one of them, they would magically return to his pocket.

He would wear the bracelet that Magnus gave him all the time. The others, he would tie them together, and attach it to his set of keys or slide them on his belt, so that they were hidden by his blazer (formal jacket).

Eventually, when he would become an uncle, or a grandfather, he got more and more of them. He would tell anyone who asked how he got the bracelets he had, and who gave it to him. All the little kids would listen to him, with wide eyes and fascination.

And when Alec would die, Magnus would made sure that Alec was wearing all of his bracelets, laughing through teary eyes as he recalled the stories of how he got the ones from his siblings or from Clary, or Simon. Rafael and Max would stand with their Bapak, and would cry with him at the amount of bracelets Alec had gotten from his family, and friends, and nephews and nieces, and grandchildren.

Anyways, it was just an idea that I liked a lot! Thanks for reading this!

[mello-jello]

Levihan Drabble Challenge Day 19

Prompt: Spoiling One Another. 596 words.

“Squad leader, please! Please let us go home!” Moblit whined for the umpteenth time.

“Again, Moblit, shut your trap. It’s only making this worse,” Hange yelled over the downpour.

The pair were trekking through knee-deep mud, in the cold and rain that was almost turned to snow. Moblit was exhausted, as was Hange, but they were determined to see this through. It wasn’t the little guy’s fault his birthday was at the beginning of winter. Nor was it his fault that Hange procrastinated.

They got a tip from one of the local merchants that a delicious tea leaf grew on the side of this particular mountain: Ceylon tea. Levi would love it, Hange was sure. But Hange blew their budget yet again, and couldn’t afford to buy it in town. So, there they were, climbing the mountain themselves.

This would be his first birthday without Isabel and Farlan. The only thing Hange really knew about Levi was that he was fond of tea. So they would get him the best tea possible.

It was gruelling work, and Moblit's whining did nothing to help, but they did it. They found the plant they were looking for. The view also wasn't half bad once they got up there. After a quick meal, the two of them began their downward journey.

"Hange-san," Moblit asked. "Why are you trying so hard for him? I mean, he's probably just going to say something rude. He might not even say anything at all."

"We all grieve in different ways, Moblit."

"But he was like that from the start! I'm just saying, you're doing all this for someone who isn't going to show an ounce of gratitude," Moblit explained.

"It doesn’t matter if he shows it or not. I know this will cheer him up," Hange said, resolutely.

Moblit sighed. "I would say you're going to spoil him, but he's already so rotten."

Hange couldn't help but giggle and playfully slap Moblit's arm.

They made it back to the barracks just before the sun completely set. Hange quickly prepared the tea leaves to dry out, and wrapped them in a bow. Levi could enjoy the scent in his room as they dried out.

Hange took the gift to Levi’s quarters. Moblit waited eagerly to watch Levi’s reaction. Hange knocked twice, and was greeted by Levi’s signature scowl. Moblit couldn’t hear the exchange,but he held in his laughter as Levi took the jar and all but slammed the door in Hange’s face.

Moblit was getting his “I told you so” ready when Levi opened the door again and handed Hange something. Moblit could hear Hange’s louder expressions of gratitude, and Levi gave a slight nod before shutting the door. Hange turned on their heel and met Moblit’s gaze with a triumphant smile.

“What happened?” Moblit asked when Hange came up to him.

“He really liked the gift!” Hange practically squealed. “Thanks again for accompanying me. And look,” Hange held up the item Levi had given them. It was a small journal.

“Woah, that’s some high quality book binding,” Moblit marvelled at the craftsmanship. “It must have cost a whole month’s allowance, maybe two.”

Hange’s face grew bashful. “He said he made it himself,” they explained, looking down at their feet.

Moblit’s eyes widened with surprise. After all the effort Hange went through to get the stupid tea leaves, Moblit imagined Levi hunched over a desk, painstakingly threading each page, and he felt satisfied.

“Well, I take it back, section commander,” he said, handing the book back. “He might just spoil you rotten instead.”

[monsterkinkmeme]

MKM Fill Masterlist

 Please review any tags on stories before reading them to ensure that they are okay for you. 

We’ve had enough stories submitted that we’ve had to split our masterlist into parts. This is the main masterlist. Male Monster stories are on their own page. 

We will never add stories to this list that violate our rules.

Stories Rated Citrus - Lime

Female Monster

Magnetic Message (Female Demon/Reader) by pandaswritingandmonsters 

Amlitu and Jordan (Female Eldritch Horror/Reader) by khnoix

Isagani (Diwata/Reader) by angryskittles007

Rainy Day (Slime Girlfriend/Reader) by nottmyfathercaleb

Something Sweet (Female Minotaur/Female Reader) by teratophelia

Misspelled Name (Female Orc/Female Reader) by itsbiordiebitch

Merm-orca (Female Mermaid/Female Reader) by love-and-monsters

A Small Trade (Female Harpy, Reader) by elizabethtarington

Aunt Emily’s Book (Female Demon/Female Human) by decayhexerei

The Dentist (Female Gnoll/Female Human) by nana-dragon

Cavities (Tooth Fairy/Reader) by featherednutcase

Need a Hand? (Female Cervitaur/Reader) by giveemtheolrazzledazzle

People have such strange attitudes toward aliens. (Female Alien/Female Human) by deadbonessinderhellaton

Fairy Friend (Female Fairy, Female Reader) by lavenderandsweetdreams

Birthday Surprise (Female Demon/Female Human) by black-is-beautiful18

Different (Female Shapeshifter/Human) by stuffy-attic

A Dusting of Cocoa (Female Werewolf/Male Human) by ashersmonsters

The Lab Assistant (Female Tentacle Creature, Female Reader) by shady-tavern

The Honored (Part 2) (Female Orc/Female Human) by nessiesspeakeasy

Genderless/Nonbinary Monster

Teacup Dragon - (Kuron/Fai, Dragon) by kyoko0001

Lonely Lich  - (Nonbinary Lich/Reader) by atlantits

The Iron Box (Monster/Reader) by i-shouldbepainting

Death by Cheese (Monster/Reader) by impatientpandersrevised

My Pumpkin!! (Monster/Reader) by littlechaoslady

Anubis’ Amulet (Anubis/Male Reader) by atlantits

Cast Out (Púca/Female Reade) by glitch-h

Get the Girl (Dragon/Female Human) by featherednutcase

Venomous (Merperson/Reader) by love-and-monsters

Faerie Dancing (Firbolg/Reader) by delllonggone

Soul Mark (Demon-Dryad/Reader) by eruden-writes

Strawless Coffee (Shadowy Creature/Reader) by they-a-freak

Asteroid Storm (A.I./Female Reader) by softmonsterboys

Friendly Neighborhood Shadow Creature, Part 2 (Shadow Creature/Reader) by Isabel

Pizza Dinner (Shadow Monster/Reader) by glasspunkart

The Hypnagog (Eldritch Entity/Male Human) by demonsigh

Sign Language (Alien, Female Human) by frodos-bizarre-adventure

The Creator (Alien Robot, Female Human) by ramblesamongstardust

Fip the Plant Monster (Plant Monster, Reader) by atlantits

Blind Date (Monster/Reader) by sarabat85

Sick Day (Demon/Reader) by bump1nthen1ght

Eldale’s End (Fae/Reader) by love-and-monsters

The Hairdresser (Shadow Monster, Reader) by bibbitybobbityboogaloo

Ulf (Troll, Reader) by featherednutcase

Loss (Death, Narrator) by justafandomsuckup

Flower (Fairy/Human) by sophlaire

Is this seat taken? (Shapeshifter/Reader) by iveseenthisshowbefore

Journal Entries (Monster Under the Bed, Human) by enigma-im

Poltergeist (Ghost, Human) by dulcetailurophile

Room for Interpretation (Eldritch Entity/Female Human) by sweetlyenchains

Multi/Other

The Duke's Laundry (The Duke, Reader) by agwitow

Cam Headcanons (Many Orcs/Genderless Performer) by eruden-writes

Broken Heart (Bot, Reader) by aspiring-burning

Garbage Drone (Bot, Reader) by various authors (note; there are several versions)

Golden Thread (Mystery Monster, Reader) by fangedscribe

Treasure Hunters (Merman, Merman, Reader) by featherednutcase

Secret Door (Mystery Monster, Reader) by justincaseofdreambreaktheglass

Naked Angel (Male Statue, Female Human/Female Reader) by stilldanytrash

Terrans Have No Standards (Several Aliens, Nonbinary Human, Male Human) by fishingforcrows

Black Feather (Mystery Monster, Female Human) by vanillanathema

Mail (Many Monsters/Female Human) by lovingthewildlife

The Fairy Ring & The Fairy Bargain (Male Fae/Male Fae/Reader) by your-monster-romance & lunatickfemme

Who Broke It (Male Werewolf/Male Demon/Narrator) by bwolfels

Unexpected Visitor (Female Alien, Male Demon) by august-drew

Lefty (Cereberus Head 1, Head 2, Head 3) by swimyghost

Space Force (Many Aliens, Reader) by shady-tavern

Logged In (Part 2, Part 3) (Mystery Monster, Nonbinary Bee, Female Mouse) by chitterwords

Unit A2 and Construct 38B (Female Android/Nonbinary Construct) by ramblesamongstardust

Stories Rated Lemon - Grapefruit

Female Monster

The Wandmaker’s Apprentice (Female Dryad/Male Reader) by honeythistle

First Time (Succubus/Female Reader) by makiko-yoshida

Dungeon Play (Female Draconian/Female Human) by gaysailorsonlyevent

Lab Partner (Female Alien/Female Reader) by teratalia

Genderless/Nonbinary Monster

The Whore from Space (Genderless Android/Female Reader) by CozyCryptidCorner

Multi/Other

Orcs Only...Oops (Many Orcs/Female Human) by weasleasley

Art Responses

Orca by nsf-winning

Eternal Flame by nsf-winning

Lionfish by cozycryptidcorner

Lionfish 2 by cozycryptidcorner

Skalgaks by connor-dioda

Lykus Steele: Cyborg Werewolf by connor-dioda

Living Armour by tothesolarium

Living Armour by marzipanrose

Monstrous Affair (lemon🍋) by theflyingpimphat

Two Moms by connor-dioda

Baking Cookies by melancholy-mezzoid

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Happy Reading~

(Updated through November 2, 2022)

[carmenlire]

Color Me Blue Ch. V

read chapter one

read chapter two

read chapter three

read chapter four

read on ao3

Alec feels exhaustion pulling at him but he steps out of the shower and heads to the sink, intent on shaving the three-day scruff that’s accumulated.

The accident on the Manhattan Bridge had kept Alec in the ER for over twenty four hours. He’d lost two patients and another six had been transferred to the Intensive Care Unit after undergoing extensive operations. It had been the following afternoon before Alec had crashed on the nearest cot in a staff lounge and slept a full six hours before he woke at midnight for his shift on the 31st. It had been a grueling shift but when someone had asked if he could cover their evening as well, Alec had almost said yes.

Almost.

Before he could accept, he’d remembered Catarina’s party. He had already RSVP’d and it would be the height of impolite not to show up after that. Alec might be known for being a bit of an ass but Maryse’s rules of decorum had been drilled into his head from a young age.

With regret, he’d told Dr. Underhill that he actually had plans. Underhill’s eyes had widened in surprise but then he’d smiled and clapped Alec on the shoulder, saying something along the lines of it’s about time you did something for yourself, Alec.

So, Alec had come home and crashed for an hour-- that did absolutely nothing for him except make him even more tired-- before dragging himself out of bed and into the shower. He doesn’t even know how long he’d spent in there with the steam and heat putting him into a fugue state.

He feels almost human when he steps out and Alec wakes up further as he starts shaving. Finishing that, he turns and heads to his closet where he debates for several minutes before reaching for a denim shirt that Isabelle had bought him for his birthday.

He hasn’t had a chance to wear it yet but as he slides into a pair of jeans-- Cat’s invitation had said casual attire, which he appreciated greatly-- and buttons the shirt, Alec turns toward his mirror and raises a brow at himself.

Damn, not bad, he thinks and wonders if maybe he’s gotten a little too used to seeing himself in a pair of scrubs.

He spares another few minutes to drag some gel through his hair and laces up his favorite pair of Doc Martens before he’s leaving his bedroom and grabbing his coat. For New Year’s Eve in New York, the weather is surprisingly mild. While it’ll be a little frigid by the time the ball drops in a few hours, for now Alec’s warm enough without having to add a scarf or anything else.

Looking down at his watch, it’s just after nine and he leaves his place, double checking to make sure he has his keys and wallet and phone. He doesn’t really know what he’s going to do once he gets there-- who he’ll even know-- but Alec remembers Magnus’s words and his own newly formed goal and resolves to enjoy himself even if it kills him.

He stops by a flower cart he sees on his way to Catarina’s townhouse and picks up a bouquet that’s a mix of wildflowers. They’re colorful and a little silly and Alec thinks they’re perfect for ringing in the New Year.

He finds the townhouse with little fanfare and knocks on the door, not sure what else to do. It’s opened a minute later by a grinning Cat and Alec laughs a little to himself as he sees that she’s wearing a cardboard hat with 2019 written in gold glitter around it.

“Alec,” she exclaims. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

Alec looks at her confused. “I said I was on the invitation.”

Waving that away, Cat ushers him inside, taking his coat and accepting the flowers with a small smile. “I thought that you might end up working through the evening anyway and forget or decide not to come. I’m glad you made it, dear.”

Surprised, Alec accepts the hug Cat gives him and wonders just how long she’s already been celebrating.

Threading an arm through his, Cat starts walking past the foyer and into the house proper. There’s a surprising number of people there and Alec tries to pretend he doesn’t see Simon and Maia’s eyes bug out of their heads when they catch him enter.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Cat says absently, looking around at the party.

Alec head whips around to hers. “Why?”

Resolutely not looking at him, Cat replies, “I just think you two would like each other and since you’re both here I--”

“No,” Alec says flatly and returns Catarina’s glare with one of his own.

“Alec,” she starts, tone wheedling. “You’ve been working so much and I don’t think it’s out of the question that you might need a distraction. This distraction would just be in the form of a boyfriend.”

Alec raises a brow as he looks at her. “I can get my own dates, Cat,” he says dryly.

“But you don’t try! When’s the last time you were on a date,” she demands.

Alec mulls her question over and grudgingly admits, “I think it’s been six months. Maybe eight,” he says, trailing off as he tries to remember.

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. You’re in the prime of your life, Alec, but if you don’t stop living at that damned hospital then one day you’re going to wake up at sixty five and realize that maybe you should have spent a little less time helping others and more time thinking about yourself.”

“Cat, your reputation at the hospital was well known when I joined on. Everyone knows you’re a workaholic, too.”

“I was,” Cat admits. “But then I found a life outside of the hospital and if you’ve noticed, I keep regular hours now-- as regular as doctors can-- and I have people in my life that I prioritize.”

Following her stare, Alec sees a woman blow a kiss to Cat while she returns it. Averting his eyes, Alec has to admit that sounds nice. He wouldn’t mind having someone to share his life with-- the damned problem is that there’s no one who would tolerate Alec’s schedule and he’s not fool enough to try to settle again.

It doesn’t help that no one’s caught his eye in ages either.

Well. That’s not true.

Alec has to admit that he’s been preoccupied with thoughts of Magnus lately. The man was just so handsome and smart and witty and he just made Alec want to kiss him until they both forgot their names.

Sighing, Alec wishes that he’d had a chance to visit the bakery the past couple of days but work was a bitch and Alec had long since grown used to it inconveniencing him.

He tunes back in to his surroundings to see Cat looking at him with a steady gaze.

“What were you thinking about just now?”

Clearing his throat, Alec says, “Nothing,” and turns his head to avoid her seeing more than she should.

Cat had taken Alec under her wing when he’d first started at the hospital and through the past eight years, they’ve built a solid friendship. They occasional went out for lunch together and had a semi monthly book club that was just the two of them reading books and discussing them at the local diner.

Alec liked Cat and respected her but there were some lines that he just wouldn’t cross.

Breaking free of her grip, Alec turns to face Cat as she does the same, question in her eyes.

“I appreciate the thought, but I refuse to meet whatever guy you want to set me up with. I’m going to the bar to get a drink and then I’m going to find a book until midnight.”

Cat opens her mouth to argue before abruptly closing it. “Fine,” she says and Alec has the niggling feeling that she’s just humoring him before she turns on her heel and walks away from him.

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Alec does as planned. He orders a glass of moscato before weaving his way through guests, looking for Cat’s library that she was constantly raving about.

He doesn’t see very many people that he knows but that suits Alec just fine now that he has a plan of action. He walks past a couple kissing far too loudly in the hallway and tries the first door on his right. Successful, he sees Cat’s library in all its glory with floor to ceiling shelves that look hand-carved and original to the house.

Browsing through books, Alec finally lands on a text about medicine in the eighteenth century. It looks just interesting enough to keep his attention and he’s about to take his drink and his book to a comfortable looking chair in the fire when the door swings open.

Startled, Alec’s head snaps up and he’s even more surprised when he knows the person.

“Magnus,” Alec exclaims, instant smile lighting up his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Alexander?”

Magnus is looking at him like he’d just told him he’s the Ghost of Christmas Past and Alec doesn’t know what to do and ends up giving a little wave like the dumbass he is when he’s around Magnus.

“What are you doing here,” Magnus echoes, looking nonplussed.

“Cat invited me,” Alec says. “She usually invites me but I always end up working New Year’s Eve.”

“Catarina always invites you,” Magnus asks, voice suspicious. Alec doesn’t know what he’s getting at but he just nods.

Sighing, Magnus goes to the couch in front of the fire and settles down in one corner. Alec follows and chooses the other side of the couch, foregoing the chair he’d originally planned on.

“What’s wrong,” he asks. Now that he’s getting over his surprise, Alec studies Magnus and is a little worried. Magnus seems down and Alec hates that Magnus wouldn’t be feeling his best on what’s supposed to be a celebratory night.

Magnus considers him for a moment before saying, “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Alec rears back like he’s been slapped and opens his mouth just to close it without saying anything before trying again.

“Why would you think that? I thought we were becoming friends. I’ve been to your bakery every day for almost two weeks.”

Magnus just looks at him like he’s trying to work out a thousand piece puzzle. “You haven’t been in the past two days and excuse me if I thought you might have turned tail and run.”

Magnus isn’t doing anything but confusing Alec more. “Why would I run? I like you. I’ve just been caught up on work.”

Alec blames the fire and his glass of wine for his sudden yawn. Turning his head to hide from Magnus, Alec looks back just to see Magnus’s face slowly transforming from the glum visage it’d been when he’d sat down to something like humor glinting in his eyes.

“Forgive me, but after what happened at the bakery, I thought you were sending me a hint.”

It takes Alec longer than it should to remember and when he does his eyes widen. Now that he’s put the pieces together, he can see how it could have looked to Magnus and he’s quick to set things right.

“No,” he exclaims and Magnus’s own eyes widen at Alec’s vehemence. “I definitely wasn’t avoiding you. I just had that accident and then I had my regular shift and long story short I think I’ve slept four hours since I saw you last.”

At that, Magnus’s face softens and he moves over on the couch, closer to Alec. His eyes peer into Alec’s and Alec has nothing to blame the way his heart is racing on but the man in front of him who looks like everything Alec's ever wanted.

“So let me get this straight,” Magnus says slowly. “You almost kissed me and then had to leave for a work emergency. You’ve been working since. You haven’t suddenly decided that you'd rather suffer something horrible than run into me under another mistletoe?”

Alec can’t look anywhere but at Magnus and he sucks in a sharp breath at Magnus’s succinct words. He bites his lip, considering, and sees the way Magnus’s eyes drop to his mouth. Gathering his courage, Alec smiles just a little.

“I wish there was a mistletoe here now,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t let another chance pass me by.”

At that, Magnus’s eyes light up and he laughs a little as he moves even closer to Alec, until their thighs are touching. Alec feels Magnus’s warmth, so close and the last thing he sees before he lets his eyes fall shut is Magnus grinning at him and looking bright enough to rival the sun.

“Well, then, how lucky for us that we don’t need a mistletoe,” Magnus murmurs and less than a second later Alec feels lips against his.

It’s soft at first, just a press of the lips before Magnus shits angles slightly, deepening the kiss. Alec follows suit and as the fire crackles in front of them, Magnus and Alec share a string of kisses.

When Magnus opens his mouth for a breath, Alec deepens the kiss even further and from there the heat gradually builds until Alec’s left gasping. The two of them break apart for a bare minute and Magnus’s eyes are shining, reflecting the dull glow of the fire and they smile at each other-- something soft and full of wonder-- before they dive back in.

Alec doesn’t know how long they kiss but when Magnus urges him closer, Alec somehow ends up straddling him, knees on either side of Magnus’s hips.

He feels hands under his shirt and Alec shudders as he moves to mouth along Magnus’s neck.

It’s been ages since Alec felt like this and he distantly wonders if it’s ever felt quite as good, as all consuming as it does with Magnus.

Alec feels comfortable with him in a way he’s rarely felt with anyone else. He genuinely likes Magnus and as he feels cool air wash over his chest from where Magnus is slowly unbuttoning his shirt, Alec thinks dizzily that Magnus is different.

Their lips have just reconnected and Alec’s hands are buried in Magnus’s hair when they both freeze, hearing a pointed clearing of a throat.

Their breathing is harsh in the quiet of the room and as Alec pulls back he refuses to look at the door for just a few more seconds. All he sees is Magnus and Magnus looks good enough that Alec briefly considers just ignoring the interruption. His mouth is swollen and his hair is disheveled and with color running high across his cheeks, he looks the picture of debauched.

Alec feels a hint of pride for making Magnus look so mussed and he starts grinning, Magnus echoing his expression.

Unfortunately, the person doesn’t go away and Alec pries his eyes away from Magnus to see who had entered the library. His eyes widen in alarm when he sees his coworker and mentor.

“Cat,” he says, voice strangled and tries to straighten from his compromising position.

Cat just sends him an arch look. “Alec,” she says dryly.

Her gaze switches to Magnus and she raises a brow. “You could have told me you already knew him.”

Looking confused, Magnus’s hands rest on Alec’s sides as he asks, “What are you talking about?”

It’s Catarina’s turn to look confused and studies the two of them before her eyes widen. “Don’t tell me you two just met this evening and you’re already defiling my furniture.”

Alec shares a look with Magnus, both of them shaking their heads minutely, before Alec turns back to Cat.

“Catarina, neither of us have any idea what you’re talking about. Care to enlighten us?”

Cat looks between them as she slowly pieces things together. Before too long, she’s grinning maniacally, looking like the cat that’s just caught the canary.

“Alec,” she says slowly. “Why don’t you tell Magnus your job title.”

Confused, Alec obeys. “I’m head of the Emergency Room,” he says tentatively.

Magnus’s head whips up to look at him but Catarina doesn’t give him a chance to say anything before she’s continuing on.

“Alec, remember when I told you that there was someone I wanted you to meet earlier? You’re sitting on him,” she says dryly and Alec’s own gaze snaps to meet Magnus’s.

The room is silent as they look at each other, incredulous. Alec can’t believe that Cat and Magnus know each other. Not only that, but the man that Alec couldn’t get out of his head was the same person that Catarina had wanted him to meet.

It seems to good to be true.

Alec blinks, refocusing, as Magnus turns to Catarina. “I’ve known Alec for a couple of weeks. He started visiting the bakery. I had no idea he was who you were talking about though or I would have demanded more information.”

Catarina just sniffs, looking haughtily superior. “Maybe you should start listening to your friends, then.”

She sends them one last look before shaking her head and turning to leave. Alec hears her laugh to herself before muttering underneath her breath, “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

She shuts the door, leaving them in peace, and the room is eerily quiet now that she’s gone.

Alec looks at Magnus to find that he’s already staring steadily up at him.

“What are the chances,” Magnus says softly and his thumb starts to sweep over Alec’s side.

“I have no idea,” Alec says and leans down to kiss Magnus.

Pulling back, he sees that Magnus’s eyes are still closed and he can’t help himself as he raises a hand and brushes a thumb over Magnus’s bottom lip. Magnus opens his eyes and kisses the pad of his thumb.

“I’m glad you came to the party this year, darling.”

“Me too,” Alec says. “I have you to think, you know. Our talk about new beginnings and possibilities made me decide to take some time for myself. I think I might work too much,” he admits wryly.

“Well, maybe I can help with that, Dr. Lightwood.”

Alec’s laughing as Magnus pulls him back down and the kiss that follows is lingering and full of possibility.

New beginnings, indeed, Alec thinks and then he’s not thinking at all.

They’re still kissing as the ball drops. They barely hear the cheers from the main room and as a new year begins, Alec loses himself in Magnus and hopes that this is the start of something great.

[ammiiexxx]

Alec and magnus are married. Isabelle wants to be their surrogate.

let’s just pretend that this didn’t take ages to finish

Part of the 100 follower special (NOW CLOSED)

They had talked about it before.

It was a big step for any couple, and this time wasn’t an exception. Inthe five years since they had married, they had fallen into a comfortablepattern, living in Alec’s loft on the Upper East side. But as four yearstogether melted into five, the topic came up again.

This time, Alec doesn’t feel shy about saying it.

“I want to have kids with you.”

He says itabruptly, and it’s probably poorly timed seeing how Magnus nearly coughs up thesip of wine he was drinking while having dinner. Magnus swallows the sip,coughing a couple of times after it goes down before his gaze focuses back onAlec. There’s a bit of confusion, dark brows threading together as his eyestrail over Alec’s features. “Y-You do?” He stutters.

Alec can feela blush build in his cheeks, and he glances back down at his food, pushing someof the vegetables around with his fork. He nods hesitantly. “I…I’ve thoughtabout it a lot this past week. We’ve been together five years now, and I knowhaving children was always something I wanted in my future…” He stabs a pieceof broccoli with his fork. “And I know the last time we talked about it, weweren’t ready but—”

He cuts offthe sentence prematurely, biting his lip nervously.

“We’ve beenmarried almost five years, and our jobs are stable, and we’re doing well forourselves, so I thought maybe kids would be an option.” He looks up from hisplate back to Magnus. “But only if you’re ready. I don’t want my feelings topressure you into—”

“I’d love tohave kids with you, Alexander,” Magnus cuts in. His hand comes forward tocaress Alec’s, thumb gently brushing over the skin of his knuckles. “I’d loveto spend the rest of my life caring for my wonderful husband and our children.”

His words aresimple, but they’re enough to bring tears to Alec’s eyes. He smiles warmly,squeezing Magnus’ hand again.

“Let’s do it.”

~~~~~~

By the end ofNovember, they had told almost everyone in their immediate family that they’ve decidedto have kids.

The responseis far bigger than they were expecting.

They had madethe announcement during Thanksgiving, when everyone was gathered at Izzy andMaia’s home in the suburbs of Brooklyn. As they went around the table sharingstories and the things they were grateful for, Alec looked to Magnus with asmile and said:

“I’m thankfulfor the love of my life, and the family we want to build together.”

He remembersit went completely silent after he said those words. The entire table wentstill, not a clink of glassware nor jingle of cutlery breaking the silence. Hetore his gaze away from Magnus to see the wide-eyed looks that his family wore.

Maryse wasthe first to break, a bright smile spreading across her face. She voiced herapproval, which prompted the others to chime in with questions of “When did youdecide?” and “Are you going to adopt?”

Both Magnus andAlec had laughed at the sudden onslaught of curious questions.

“We’ve beenlooking at adoption,” Alec confessed. “But Magnus brought up the option ofhaving a surrogate as well.”

“Wellwhatever you choose,” Maryse said, reaching out to her son, “we will stand byyou.”

Endlessamounts of support followed, and as the evening carried on, Alec and Magnusfelt especially thankful for all the support their family gave them.

It’s later inthe evening when Izzy approaches Alec.

“Alec,” shestarts, stepping towards him. “Could I talk to you and Magnus for a moment?”

Alec blinksin surprise. “Oh, um…sure,” he stutters, looking across the room to see Magnustalking with Luke and Maryse. “Let me just go get him real quick.”

“I’ll be outon the patio,” Izzy states with a nod before she turns to walk outside.

Alec takesthe last sip of his wine he’s been having and waltzes over to Magnus. He’stelling the story of how Alec almost burnt down the kitchen trying to make acake for Magnus’ birthday, and he can see his mother just beaming because she knows how dreadful the Lightwood cookingcan be.

“You justlove to tell that story, don’t you babe?” Alec asks as he wraps his arms aroundMagnus, hugging him from behind and pressing his chin to Magnus’ shoulder.

Magnus hums. “Onlybecause I found the gesture to be sweet. Not almost burning down our kitchen,but the fact you tried to make a cake for me.”

Alec lets outa breathy chuckle at that and presses a chaste kiss to his husband’s lips. Helooks to his mother and Luke. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to snatch him awayfor a few minutes.”

“It’s no problem,”Luke assures. He looks down to Maryse. “We could start thawing the dessert now,if you’re ready for it.”

Maryse smilesat him and presses a kiss to his cheek. Her hand slips into his as she leadshim towards the kitchen. Both Magnus and Alec watch them leave. When theydisappear from sight, Magnus lets another bright, warm smile slip. “They suiteach other,” he states simply.

Alec hums atthat. “I’m proud to see that she’s putting her happiness first for once,” he states.“She deserves it.”

Magnus smilefalters a bit as he catches back up to the current situation. “Did you need mefor something, love?” He asks curiously, breaking the hug to turn towards Alec.

“Izzy wantedto talk to us about something,” he starts. “She’s out on the patio.”

Magnus blinksa couple of times in response, unsure of what exactly she may want. Regardless,he gives Alec a nod and a ghost of a smile, intertwining his hand in Alec’s. “Leadthe way.”

~~~~~

Izzy standsalone on the patio nursing a glass of bubbly champagne, enjoying the coolerweather of the night. She turns almost immediately when the door opens, andAlec smiles at her, closing the door to the house to keep the warmer air in.

“Hey,” shegreets with a smile.

“Alexander saidyou wanted to talk to us?” Magnus asks as he steps down on to the patio.

Izzy’s eyeswiden a bit as her gaze falters to her feet. Alec catches the gestureimmediately, knowing that she’s overthinking. She usually is so controlled withher emotions in regards to others, but with Alec, he can read her like an openbook. “Is something the matter, Iz?” He asks gently.

Izzy shakesher head. “No, I just—” She takes a deep breath, looking up at the both ofthem. “Earlier, you two were talking about having children and you were talkingabout adoption, but also about the possibility of surrogacy and I didn’t knowif you two wanted to—”

“Isabelle,darling, breathe,” Magnus encourages.He steps forward and gives her a small smile. “Did you have a question about ushaving kids?”

“…Have youdecided if you wanted to adopt?”

Alec pondersthat. “Well…we’ve talked about it a little bit. But quite honestly, we kind ofcaught on to the idea of surrogacy a little more within the past few weeks.” Henotices Izzy straightens her posture a bit. He gives a curious glance.

“Have youthought about possible surrogates?”

“Well, no,not really. We thought about calling Aline, but—”

“Let me beyour surrogate then,” she offers. She laughs at Alec’s wide-eyed look. “Look, Iknow how much having children means to the both of you. I know you want someonedependable who will care for the child properly as they grow and Maia and I…well,we’re more than happy to help.”

“Iz—”

“I know, Iknow,” she counters. “Taking care of a child is a big job, but I’m prepared forit.” She smiles warmly at Alec. “I want to do this, but only if you are bothokay with it.”

Alec openshis mouth to retort, but he closes it, instead turning to Magnus. “What do youthink, Magnus?” He asks hesitantly.

Magnus’ eyeslower as he thinks, brows furrowing slightly together in concentration. “Well…there’supsides. She’s your sister, so we know her medical history. She’s provendependable time and time again, she lives a relatively stable lifestyle with ajob she can do from home and a wife who can care for her on the rougher days.”He shrugs. “Of course, there are legalities we’d have to work out, but if she’soffering…” he trails off, looking back to Izzy. “I’d say we take it.”

Alec smilesat Magnus. He trusts Magnus’ judgement. From the moment they hit it off, he hadalways been a good judge of character. He always thought carefully through allthe options presented, and that was something Alec admired about him.

He sighsdeeply out his nostrils, turning to meet his sister’s hopeful gaze. “Alright,”he sighs. “We’ll arrange for a meeting to go over the terms next week, if that’sfine with you.”

Izzy’s facebreaks out into a sunny smile. “That sounds perfect.”

~~~~~

Nine monthslater, Alec and Magnus cradle a little baby girl in their arms. She’severything they could ever want, with Magnus’ golden-green eyes and thesignature Lightwood beauty. Their hearts are both so full, so grateful as theysnuggle their child close.

Their smallfamily of two, now a family of three.

[margri3t]

Happy Birthday Levi!!

So even if I did secret santa, I couldn't resist writing a small birthday drabble for Levis birthday!

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

December 25th and everyone is crowding the kitchen. Levi, did not know what to do. The special operations squad was making Christmas dinner but refused to let him help. Their excuse being “You've done so much for us captain, how could we be okay with making you slave away in the kitchen on Christmas?!”.

Levi responded bluntly, “It’s Christmas for you guys as well.”

“But it's not our birthday.” That shut Levi up, however he insisted on helping clean up later on. At a loss with what to do with himself, he walked through the castle halls till he reached his quarters. Maybe with the peace and quiet, he could get some paperwork done. But just as he reached his desk he remembered that Hanji had removed all paperwork from Levi’s vicinity in hopes of forcing him to stop working on his birthday. Levi thought it was nonsense, and would only cause problems later on. His birthday had never been important before joining the survey corps, so why should it be now?

Only 8 of the old survey corps members survived when plugging wall Maria, and as a result of that, those still alive became a close knit family. No one else knew how it was to lose so many close friends. Therefore they would do anything for each other, or die trying. New people joined the survey corps after the mission, but for drastically different reasons. They wanted to discover new land and create settlements. All Titans had been swiftly wiped out after the corps found the source of the problem. It wasn't a surprise to see innocent newbies smiling and laughing. They knew nothing of how it really was to fight hard whilst watching friends die one after the other.

Levi, often being tormented with dreams of the dead, would spend his nights and free time writing. So with nothing else to do, Levi wrote. It was strange, because recently the things he wrote became more about his friends, more specifically one green eyed, scruffy haired young man.

Eren.

The thought of relationships and love had never come to Levi before, he was too busy to even think of the fact he could find happiness with another. But he did know how to appreciate a good looking person, and the more he spoke to Eren he realised he was starting to catch feelings. It felt wrong, there was a 10 year age gap between the two and Eren was a lot more cheerful than Levi. Apart from that Levi was scared to say anything because if Eren loved him too, karma would surely come and take Eren from him. Everyone else who had loved him, died. And of course if Eren didn't feel the same way, which was very likely, Levi wouldn't be able to look the poor kid in the eyes.

After a long while writing Levi heard people calling his name, stating the fact that dinner was ready. Quickly Levi stored away the notebook and headed down to the dining hall. Everyone was seated at the table ready for him, and once Levi sat down, Eren stood up to make a toast.

“Well despite the fact we said this meal was for Christmas, we may or may not have had secret intentions...Happy Birthday Levi!” Everyone else stood and raised their glass, Sasha staring at the food, and Hanji cackling menacingly. This was too much, Levi couldn't take it, a scene from a few years ago played in his head, his old squad preparing a meal and saying exactly the same thing, even before then Farlan and Isabel had done the same. They were all dead, buried in the mass army graves just outside Sina. He didn't want the same to happen to his now squad, and even if he new the Titans were dead he couldn’t convince himself they would be okay. Panic started to wash over his whole body, it didn't feel right.

Levi stood up, surprising everyone.

He ran.

Maybe if he could run far away from the scene and never let them spoil him, he could avoid their deaths. His mother had held him in the underground, telling him it would be okay, promising one day they would both be able to live on the surface. Only Levi got to enjoy that dream.

He reached his quarters for the second time that day and sunk down in a corner. It was the first time he'd cried in years. Levi told himself that he was an idiot, couldn't even accept love when people gave it to him. There was way less chance of them dying now than ever before, the Titans were gone for fucks sake! It didn't help.

A few minutes later and Levi heard footsteps enter the room. He didn't look up.

“Levi?” Of course it had to be Eren who came to find him.

Levi didn't even move when he felt a hand thread through his hair and Eren kneel beside him.

“We've all been through a lot. I understand that we all have a breaking point. Mind telling me what's wrong?” As Eren said this he slowly slipped his arms around Levi, bringing him in close to his chest and letting Levi stain his shirt with tears.

“I'm staining your shirt.” Even Levi knew that was a weak answer, but at least it made Eren laugh, a glorious sound.

“Seriously, what's the real problem?” Fuck Eren and his comforting presence.

Levi sighed.

“The fact you made a birthday dinner reminded me of the old squad. Along with that Isabel and Farlan always did things for my birthday. Shortly after my last squad celebrated my birthday they died. I don't want you to die. I loved them like a family. I love you guys like a family as well, especially you Eren. I love you a lot more than I should. I don't even know why I'm telling you this but you're fucking amazing and everyone is just so nice to me and I feel like I don't deserve it. I'm just a worthless captain who's managed to run from death too many times. And I re-” Levi realised he was rambling.

“What do you mean you love me?”

“Fuck.” Now he didn't know what to do. Best be honest? “I have romantic feelings for you?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“Statement.” After Levi said this Eren grabbed him by the chin and made him look into his eyes.

“Look...none of us are going to die. The titans are gone remember? We've all lost friends, and you most of all. But we have to carry on. It's not going to happen again okay? We're all survivors. Also you're definitely not worthless, everyone in the squad loves you. Yes you act cold sometimes but we've all learnt how to tell when you're happy. And lastly…”

Eren planted a kiss on Levi’s cheek. “You've got to stop being so fucking amazing. We’ll talk about this later, but let's go enjoy the meal we prepared for you. Before Sasha eats your cake alone.”

“G..good point.”

The 8 old survey corp members spent the rest of the evening eating and partying, showering Levi in gifts and laughing when his cheeks turned red. When at the end of the night Connie jokingly held mistletoe above Eren and Levi, they didn't hesitate and ended the night lost in each other's taste. A warm feeling of happiness filled Levi.

He would not lose anyone else to the cold embrace of death.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

I think this is gonna be the second last chapter

Things with Levi were still... they weren't back to normal, but they were getting there. It was now the day of his 15th, and perhaps because of the time of year it was, they'd both been plagued by nightmares this last week. After talking it through, they'd decided to get a new place together, and at Eren's insistence, they'd opted to build rather than to rent or buy. He wanted somewhere new, somewhere they could make their own and somewhere no one would taint. Today they were meeting with the building company to discuss house and land packages, but first they actually had to leave the bed.

Levi had moved in when Eren had started having violent nightmares about wind buried alive, and had fallen back to sleeping with the light on. Waking up in Levi's arms had helped so much, but it was hard to watch Levi struggle with his own nightmares, and not be able help. All the could do was cuddle into each other and reassure each other they were alright, and this wasn't a dream. It also seemed to help his morning sickness to have his mate around. That was something else that Levi has been amazing about. Even the few nights where Levi had stayed over and Eren had been throwing up, rather than listening to him and going back to bed, his alpha would grab a blanket and join him on the floor in front of the toilet. Levi would hold him like that for hours and hours, until Eren would finally fall asleep in Levi's arms, and his alpha would then move them both to bed. He couldn't help but feel spoilt by all Levi's love and attention, so he'd wanted to do something nice for his alpha. Tonight they were having dinner with Erwin, Isabel, Farlan and Hanji. He'd thought about inviting his mother, but he understood that there was only so much of his mum that Levi could handle at a time. Sighing softly Eren slid from Levi's hold, only to have the alpha grab his wrist as he made to move off the bed

"It's ok Levi. I'm just going to the bathroom"

He'd thought the man still asleep, but apparently not

"Right... sorry"

Leaning back, Eren pressed a kiss to Levi's cheek

"I'll be right back"

Levi let out a sleepy sigh as he nodded

"Do you want me to start breakfast?"

"No, I'm just going to have toast. My stomach doesn't feel the best"

"Ok, come out to the kitchen when you're done?"

His silly alpha, worrying too much again

"Of course"

Finding Levi in the middle of making breakfast, his mother immediately rushed to usher him to sit at the dining table

"Happy Birthday honey"

"Thanks mum"

Eyeing the present being pushed into his hands, he'd some how managed to forget that people got presents for their birthday

"So, go ahead and open it"

"I'm getting there... I'm still sleepy"

"With all the moaning you two were making, I'm not surprised"

Eren blushed, even though they hadn't had sex, his mother didn't know about their nightmares and that moaning was them in their sleep. Unwrapping the small present, Eren pulled out a thick blue blanket that has trimmed in brown thread. In the corner was a small wolf, and beneath it the name "Ackerman"

"It's for the baby. I know you haven't decided on a name yet, so when you do, I'll embroider it myself"

"Thanks mum, its beautiful"

"I got you something else, but it will have to wait until later"

"You do remember Levi and I have an appointment this afternoon, and we're going out to dinner tonight"

"I know. Now, how about some breakfast?"

"Levi's making me toast"

"Are you sure? You usually have bacon and eggs on your birthday"

Clamping his hand to his mouth, just the thought of the smell made him want to hurt. Rising, he dashed from the room.

Having thrown up until he couldn't throw up anymore, Eren brushed his teeth and returned to the dining room. Levi immediately looked to him, like silently apologising for not being there

"I made you plain toast, I didn't know what you'd be able to stomach"

"Plain is fine, thanks"

Taking his seat beside Levi, Eren laid his head against Levi's shoulder

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I'm just happy to be with you"

"Aw, you two are just the sweetest. What else do you two have planned?"

"I don't know"

Looking up to Levi, Levi nodded slowly

"That's right. I had to somehow get in a few surprises for your birthday"

"Levi, you didn't have to do anything"

"Shut up and eat your toast"

"You can't tell me to shut up on my birthday"

"I can and I did"

"You are so lucky I love you"

*

After meeting with the building company, Eren's head was full of number and measurements and figures, but most of all he was kind of upset. He'd really wanted to be able to bring their baby home to the new house, but with everything going on, it seemed like there was no way the house would be done in time. Unable to stop himself from crying as Levi lead him back to the car, he felt like an idiot of having such a hopeful dream and an idiot for crying when they were discussing something as amazing as their home together.

Waiting until he'd settled, Levi had squatted down and held his hands, despite his alpha being clearly confused over what was going on. Sniffling sadly Eren took a few deep breaths

"Sorry..."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No... it's stupid"

"You're not regretting being back with me... are you?"

"No! No... I... I really wanted to be able to bring out baby home to our house. I love mum and all, but I don't want her taking over and I know she will... I want to go home and figure things out with you..."

"To be honest, that's what I wanted for us as well. I know Carla's heart is in the right place, but she also seems to forget that I did complete my medical training, and I do know a thing or two of my own. I know she's been through it, but I'm tired of the constant butting in"

Eren nodded quickly

"Yeah. That's why I was really looking forward to bringing our baby home"

"We have 24 weeks, I'm sure we can figure something out"

"How? I'm already 16"

"Come on, let's get out of here"

"Alright"

He knew houses went up really fast these days, but they were planning for a 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom, seperate study/office, open planned living/dining/kitchen, a second living room and a big walk in pantry. There was no way that would go through, especially seeing they hadn't even got somewhere to build. Levi had to be delusional.

Levi looked somewhat apologetic as they pulled up outside the hardware store, while Eren was still trying to process the fact they were here

"I planned to take you here so we could look at paint, and tiles and things for the house... but if you want to go somewhere else, we can go shopping for the baby"

"No... I don't think I've ever actually been in a hardware store"

"Really. No, I suppose that makes sense. I try to avoid them, they're like breeding grounds for dust"

"That's so like you, but you're not as bad as you used to be. I had nightmares about you making me do housework"

"Just imagine what I'll be like at our new home"

Groaning, Eren climbed from the car with a heavy heart and rolling stomach.

Having decided they really didn't want a grey house, they found a nice creamy white for the outside, to match the teal and gold trimming. It truly seemed like grey was the trend, but neither of them could even be accused of being trendy.

[ereriwings]

can you suggest some high school/college au that are completed?

alright, this took a moment because i don’t have many completed works in my bookmarks lol. but here we go ! list below the cut because there’s a ton. c: and anyone can feel free to add works into this list that they feel fit !

- Eren

1994 by Vee

Summary: Before cell phones. Before the Kardashians. Before internet porn. The year is 1994. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, poor kids from the wrong side of the tracks, have been transferred with the rest of their neighborhood to the posh, uptown Trost High (Home of the Titans). Mikasa and Armin seem to fit in well enough, but Eren isn't quite so lucky. Of course, most of this has to do with Eren's personality. When he accepts a bet to lose his virginity (and actually prove that someone likes him) by the end of the semester, it's hard for him to deny the improbability of winning. After all, the only one he seems to be talking to these days is the weirdly pretty (and just plain weird) goth working at the donut shop down the street...

Take Me For a Drive by Ereri_Fanatic

Summary: I shook my head and leaned out with my forearms resting on the rail. "What the hell are you doing here this late, Levi? You know that you can just sneak in, right?"

He shrugged and crossed his arms. "No shit." He barked out, his hand moving to rest on his hip as he looked up at me. "If I had wanted to go to bed with you, I would have already been up there, brat."

"Then why are you here?" I asked.

"I wanna go on a drive with you."

Let’s Dance by basilnsage735

Summary: Eren is a sophomore in high school, and is less than pleased when he is mistakenly placed in dance class instead of gym. He's pretty much given up, until he meets the riveting Levi Ackerman, a gorgeous senior and the school's most promising ballet student.The two start out as enemies, but perhaps Levi will find a soft spot for the dorky brunette?

Taste My Cherry by Ereri_fanatic

Summary: Where Eren watches Levi licking and sucking on a cherry flavored lollipop and gradually gets frustrated with himself because he shouldn't be this jealous over a damn lollipop.

A Subcategory of Punk by CocoaChoux

Summary: Pastels could actually look nice in leather and piercings… Or maybe it was just Eren who was the exception to the fashion rule. The boy was full of surprises as Levi found out.

Sunburns. by Prozac

Summary: Summer is Eren Jaeger.

Eren Jaeger, the boy who wears a sun hat with his hair bleached lightly at the tips from the sun and sea salt. Eren Jaeger, the boy who collects seashells and places them on his balcony railing. Eren Jaeger, the boy who smells like the ocean, who has eyes with the color of the seven seas.

Summer is falling in love with him.

I’m just a lost boy by whynotfanfiction

Summary: A High School AU where Levi plays the Piano and Eren has been low (high) key crushing on him, when one day..

Lists by Trick_Fantasy

Summary: The story of Levi ("Why bother trying to make friends when you can learn to control people instead?") and Eren ("Because you can control people better when they think that they're your friends. They don't even know they're being manipulated.") coping with social interaction at college in their own different ways.

tfw you look at someone and want to rule the world w/ them but in like a platonic way by driedupwishes

Summary: Friendships are built on different things. Some are built on shared classes. Others are built on nerdy references or shared interested. Not many are made in the middle of fist fights in alleyways in the first month of classes, but some are.Some, of course, have all three elements. Not many, but some.(Some also include playing video games and agitating their roommates and taking lots of selfies and ignoring their family issues and then bonding over family issues, but hey. Those parts aren't for everyone.But they are for Isabel and Eren and they like it that way.)

Double Trouble by LNNXXP

Summary: Eren's job at the coffee shop was boring and dull until an interesting customer catches his eye. Make that two interesting customers. And by interesting, he means unbelievably hot. Work just got a lot more entertaining.(aka Levi is bigender but Eren's clueless and doesn't realize that both his crushes are the same person, and Levi takes advantage of this just to torture him)

All Wrapped Up by SimplyTsundere

Summary: After being unable to speak to the attractive transfer student, Levi Ackerman, for months, Eren Jaeger decided there's one thing he can do: get him a birthday present. Once he noticed that Levi's scarf was beginning to wear down to bare threads he stops to buy him a new one. With the help of his roommate, Jean Kirschtein, the two manage to succeed only in turning the scarf into a hideously wrapped ball of tape and torn gift wrap. The two sneak into the gym, stuff the item in Levi's locker while he swims, and beat feet. Only there was one little problem: Eren left more than just the scarf in Levi's locker when he shook out his bag.

[artificialqueens]

Meet in the Middle (Rajila) - Juniper

Summary: Raja worries that she’s getting old. 2.3k of established lesbian Rajila. Part of the “Bleary Eyes” series.

Manila licks her lips as she shuffles into the kitchen, the pervading scent pulling her sleepy body from bed. She hissed as her toes initially touched the cold tile, catching the attention of the girl at the stove.

“Morning,” Raja chuckled, obviously amused by Manila’s disheveled appearance. In the metal of the toaster, she could see her bun hanging on by a thread, eyes half closed.

“I smelled pancakes,” she shrugged.

Raja hummed as she poured more batter into the pan. “You better put socks on, babe. You’re gonna get sick.”

Manila, ever stubborn, huffed as she plopped down at the table. She crossed her legs, pulling her feet underneath.

“It’s not that cold.”

“It’s definitely freezing,” Raja said, reaching for the spatula. “No snow today, though, or so the weatherman said.”

Manila could see out the window above the sink, the chilly air of the morning not accompanied by even the bravest bird. The sky was a light grey, matching the dreary disposition of the leafless trees in the yard of their apartment building. Plenty of people found the dead sight of winter depressing, but it was comforting to her. She readjusted the collar of her flannel pajama top.

“Can you make mine into a snowman?”

Raja barked out a laugh. “I can try. No promises that it won’t be offensively bad.”

Manila pulled the tie from her hair, attempting to scrape it all up into something a bit more acceptable. She couldn’t help the slight twinge of jealousy she felt as she admired Raja’s thick, dark hair, effortlessly cascading down her back. It was always sleek and beautiful, not a frizzy strand or split end in sight.

She hopped up to rustle through the fridge for some juice when her phone started to buzz in her breast pocket.

Swiping her finger across the screen, she was met with a high-pitched wail.

A sigh, then, “Hello? ‘Nila?”

“Hey, sis,” Manila laughed. “The monsters giving you a tough time?”

“Only on days that end in y,” the exhausted voice rang through the line. “Speaking of which, I need to ask you a favor.”

Her eyes narrowed as she shook the carton of orange juice. “What’s up, Rach?”

“So, remember how I got surprised with those Nutcracker tickets a couple of weeks back?”

Manila hummed, as if she didn’t know exactly where her sister was headed with the conversation.

“Well, the show is tonight, and our sitter totally has the flu or something. Even if she could come in, I don’t want her getting the babies sick. It’s too late to cancel, ‘Nila, I already got a new dress and we made reservations-“

“I’ll do it,” Manila interrupted, suppressing the urge to laugh at her frazzled tone. A hefty exhale came through the phone.

“Thank you, thank you! I love you, you’re the best. Can you be here at six?”

“I know I am. See you at six.”

After she hung up, Raja was carefully carrying two plates over to the table. Manila grabbed two clean glasses.

“What was that about?” Raja asked, drizzling syrup over her breakfast. Her girlfriend scooted her chair closer, resting her cheek against Raja’s fleece clad shoulder. Her lengthy body was covered in a gray onesie, not quite reaching her ankles.

“Rachel asked if I could watch the kids tonight,” she groaned, dramatically stuffing a forkful into her mouth.

“That’s fine, we didn’t really have plans anyway. What time does she want us at the house?”

Manila sat up, a brow knit in disapproval.

“You don’t have to come and spend your Saturday wiping noses.”

Raja laughed softly as she filled her glass. “I want to. You know I love your family, why wouldn’t I wanna spend time with your niece and nephew?”

She pressed a kiss to her temple and Manila sighed happily, relaxing into the touch.

“Fine, if you insist. But don’t expect to make it out without watching Moana at least three times.”

–

Manila ran the wand over her bottom lip, watching in wonder as the liquid dried matte, coating her mouth in a deep red. It wasn’t too late in the afternoon, but the winter sun had already begun its’ descent, making the bedroom dark enough to switch on the lights lining the vanity mirror.

The chill managed to creep in through the closed window, but Manila felt toasty in the layers beneath her cable knit sweater. Her ears were tinged the slightest shade of pink, and she debated letting her hair down.

A slew of curses came from the bathroom, and Manila stumbled out of her chair and toward the noise.

“Raj? You okay?”

She was leaning against the cabinet, rubbing her scalp. She was wearing a frown, and it would almost be adorable if Manila wasn’t concerned.

“Yes, I’m fine. Shit,” she grumbled, and her girlfriend noticed a few stray hairs sticking out of her fist.

“What’s this?” She asked, uncurling Raja’s fingers so that the strands lay flat in her palm.

“Nothing,” Raja spat, moving to let them roll into the garbage, but as they fell Manila caught a glimpse of the silvery contrast.

She took a nervous step toward the taller woman, linking their arms. She peered up, a futile attempt in meeting her gaze. Her embarrassed cheeks were red and splotchy, confirming Manila’s suspicions.

“Babe, was that a gray hair?”

Raja tore away, exhaling in annoyance. She started down the hall, Manila shuffling along the carpet behind, trying not to gather electricity in her socks.

“We’re late already, grab your boots.”

“No,” she protested. “I wanna talk about why this makes you so upset, and we’re not leaving until we do.”

In the same instant, both pairs of eyes dart to the keys hanging from the hook on the wall, and make a beeline for them. They shove each other, arms covering eyes, until Raja accidentally bangs her elbow against the wall and is forced to recede. Manila grabs the keys, hurriedly stuffing them in her bra for safe keeping.

“Really?” Raja bemusedly asks, eyebrow raised as she continues to soothe her tingling funny bone.

The Pinay crosses her arms, a stubborn look on her face. Raja rolls her eyes.

“Fine,” she relents. “I’ve been plucking out gray hairs for weeks now, hoping you wouldn’t see. Out of sight, out of mind, right?”

“Raja, it’s just hair. I don’t care what color it is, the way you wear it, how much of it you have. Everyone gets grays eventually.”

“Why does my eventually have to be right now?” She seethes, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m don’t want to get old, I just want time to stop. There’s so much I haven’t done yet, and it’s like some kind of clock, incessantly ticking, reminding me that I’m not gonna be young forever. I don’t care how superficial it sounds, I love my hair. It’s part of who I am, and I’m gonna lose-“

She stops when her voice breaks, and clamps her eyes shut. Manila isn’t sure when her hand moves to cover her mouth, but she feels awkward lowering it.

“That what you wanted to hear, Manila? You happy now?” She whispers.

“Of course not,” she mutters meekly. “Raj, listen-“

“Let’s just go, okay? I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Manila retrieves the keys, nodding mutely.

–

The car ride over is mostly silent, save for the radio which is cranked up for an obvious reason. When they pull up, they can see Rachel peeking out of one of the blinds, face washed over by complete relief when she sees them.

The door opens by the time they get to the step, fake smiles on display. Rachel looks lovely, actually finding the time to put on makeup, and do more than just run a brush through her hair. It’s not easy with twin toddlers, Manila knows. Every family dinner, she watches the exhausted look on her sister’s face as she chases them around the house, wiping faces and changing diapers, still managing to be overflowing with care and wisdom. She admires everything about it.

“Kids!” She yells up the stairs. “Tiya ‘Nila and Auntie Raja are here!”

Alex comes running down the stairs, with Isabel riding on her father’s shoulders, full of giggles. Manila’s heart comes back to life when she sees them.

The young girl hops down as her father kneels, and Manila gets tackled by hugs. Raja smiles as she watches the scene, feeling slightly guilty for putting a damper on the day. She sees Rachel struggling to slip on her shoes and secure her earrings at the same time, and moves to help her.

“Do you ever worry about getting old, Rach?” She asks lowly. Manila’s sister stops, looking at her with an indiscernible expression.

“Sometimes, yeah, of course. Things like that go on that backburner once you have kids, though,” she laughed. “When my birthday came last month, I actually had to do the math in the calculator on my phone. I had no idea how old I was turning. I think, so long as you enjoy what you’re doing with your time, that maybe getting old is not so bad.”

Raja thinks about it for a moment.

–

Raja sighs, rubbing her eyes. Her mascara is probably smudged, but she doesn’t care. Her shirt is already covered in multiple stains, and she forgot to bring her lipstick for touchups anyway. It’s just past midnight, and she knows they’re going to get an earful from Rachel about the kids being up way past bedtime.

Isabel is up on her purple step stool, diligently brushing her teeth over the sink. It’s one of the toothbrushes that takes batteries, playing a song from a children’s show that Raja doesn’t recognize.

From the bathroom, she can spot that the door to the twins’ room is cracked open, where Manila is already tucking Alex in. She creeps across, peeking inside.

His side of the room is lit up by the glow of his nightlight, and Manila is kneeling by the side of the bed. Alex is under the blankets, on his side, and Raja thinks she can make out faint sniveling.

“If you leave me alone, the monsters are going to get me. I know it.”

Raja bites her lip. They had all sat in the living room watching Trolls for the first time, stuffing themselves with popcorn. Isabel had taken to it wonderfully, but Raja knew she hadn’t imagined the discomfort in her brother’s eyes every time the terrible “Bergens” appeared.

“Nothing will get you, I promise,” Manila reassured, her sweet voice so calm. More relaxed than Raja had ever heard it. “You can keep the nightlight on, and I’ll be right downstairs. Where’s your koala?”

“Dunno.”

“Dunno? That’s how you treat a gift from me?”

“Kenny’s under the bed,” he whispers, even though they’re technically alone.

Manila reaches underneath, retrieving a stuffed koala. She plays with the ear.

“You don’t like to sleep with Kenny anymore?”

“Not a baby,” he grumbles. “Sister doesn’t.”

“Hey, you don’t have to pretend to not like something just because your sister doesn’t. You can be a big boy and still sleep with Kenny. As a matter of fact, I still sleep with a teddy bear, and I’m, like, way old.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm,” she confirms, peeling down the covers just far enough to give room for the animal. Alex wrapped his arms around it. “And I was scared once, too, but then something helped me to realize that there was nothing to be afraid of.”

Raja can feel herself smiling.

“Just sleep with Kenny tonight and see how you feel. I’m sure he’ll help you feel safe. Then in the morning, Mommy will be back, and you’ll see that there was nothing to be afraid of. Sometimes the things we fear aren’t actually as scary as we may think.”

Raja had a feeling her presence hadn’t gone unnoticed.

–

A few weeks later, Manila is unlocking the door, suppressing a yawn brought on from a long day at the office.

She can hear the shower switch off as she hangs up her purse and keys, and she kicks off her shoes, pushing them underneath the coffee table. They can be a problem for later.

Checking the time on her phone, Manila tells herself that she can squeeze in a power nap before dinner. Otherwise, she’ll be falling asleep into her pasta.

The bathroom door opens as she’s about to pass it, steam rolling out.

Raja’s standing in a towel, combing out her wet hair. She looks happy to see her girlfriend, who gives a dramatic groan before embracing her.

“Long day?” She laughs, the heat still rising off her skin.

“It lasted forever,” Manila whines, letting her eyes slip shut. She’d be content to sleep standing up, so long as Raja was bracing her.

“Poor thing,” she gently mocks, and Manila raises her head to really ham up her pout, when she notices something. “Take a picture, baby. It’ll last longer.”

“Sorry,” she laughs. “I was zoning out. I just…”

The teeth of the comb ran through a chunk of long, dark hair, mixed in with several silvery strands.

“I know, the gray hairs,” Raja sighs. “You were right, I was overreacting. It’s just hair. Maybe I am getting old, and so fucking what? I still have a lot of life to live.  As long as we’re becoming old ladies together, I don’t mind it.”

She pinches her hip, and Manila feels pride.

“Plus, the salt and pepper look is super sexy!” She exclaims, causing Raja to roll her eyes.

“I was trying to create a moment here.”

Manila giggles. “Just make sure you spread those bitches out. Streaks are my thing.”

“I love you, you idiot.”

“I know,” Manila smiles. “I love you, too, grandma.”

She reaches for the mirror, using her finger to draw out a heart on the fogged-up glass.

[christinaepilzauthor-blog]

Torn Between Two Queens

by Wendy J. Dunn

Katherine

There's a chorus of an old song that I'm sure most people have heard at least once in their life: Torn between two lovers, feelin' like a fool, Lovin' both of you is breakin' all the rules. I'm not torn between two lovers, but I have to admit to feeling torn between Tudor queens. Yes – I have my fair share of Anne Boleyn replica jewellery, an Anne Boleyn Iphone case, Anne Boleyn note paper and even devoted years of my life giving voice to Anne Boleyn in my fiction, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I feel just as devoted to Katherine of Aragon. I even have an unpublished manuscript to prove it – a novel that focused on her childhood in Castilla, which I had hoped to be the first work of a planned trilogy about her life. Now that my young adult Tudor novel, The Light of the Labyrinth, has stepped out into the published world, I have been thinking about returning to this work. It is actually crying out to me to return to it. That's not surprising; I spent three years of my life committed to putting Catalina's story onto the page. Since putting the work aside over four years ago, I have had a lot of time to think about why it didn't hit the bull's eye, and what I should do to start again. So many people think of Katherine of Aragon as a Spanish princess, but she wouldn't have described herself in that way – not really. It was the marriage of her father and mother, King Ferdinand of Aragon and Queen Isabel of Castilla, two monarchs who ruled over different parts of what is now known as Spain, that resulted in the gradual union of their two countries that became one of the most powerful dominions in Christendom. As a daughter of King Ferdinand, Katherine was a princess of Aragon. Her mother – the Queen of Castilla, a far more powerful country than Aragon – could have made it very difficult for her husband, but her great ability in diplomacy was apparent even on the home front. She chose to wield her power in such a way that always included her husband. Her immense gifts as a ruling monarch makes me wonder if this was the reason history renamed her Isabella – a name, it is believed, the English brought into being when they wanted to belittle the grandmother of Mary I, as well as in response to the Spanish Armada (Liss 2002). Born on the sixteenth day of December in 1485, Katherine of Aragon, or Catalina as she was known at her mother's court, was the fifth and last child of these two monarchs. At three, Katherine was betrothed to Prince Arthur, the first-born son of a new royal English dynasty: the Tudors. Extremely intelligent, pious and educated by the best tutors her mother could find, Katherine was also trained – like her three older sisters – by her mother to be a devoted and obedient wife who was able to be a good helpmeet for their husband. Katherine was not only able to care well for her husband's stomach, but also was an excellent embroiderer and maker of manly shirts. She would one day anger Anne Boleyn when she refused to stop making shirts for Henry VIII. As his wife, it was her duty to make them (Fraser 1998).

Anne

There are many stories from the pages of history about Katherine I can visualise as a fiction writer. One story I especially love - when Wolsey visited Katherine during the time of "The King's Great Matter". Busy sewing with her women, Katherine doesn't invite him into her chamber, but speaks to him at the door, with skeins of threads over her shoulder and I suspect a needle in her hand. Like Anne, Katherine did not like Wolsey, especially in this time when she was being pressured to step aside as Henry's Queen. Did she feel tempted to accidently brush against Wolsey and prick him with her needle? Make him bleed, because she saw him as one of the reasons her husband now rejected her, making her own heart bleed. Katherine arrived in England just before her sixteenth birthday, after a long and perilous journey from her mother's kingdom of Castile. The sea journey was even more dangerous, with her ships being driven back once by terrible storms before venturing out to sea again. A chronicle of the period said: It is reported that this lady Katherine thought and feared such an unhappy chance might come, (the death of her husband, Prince Arthur) for when she had embraced her father and taken leave of her noble and prudent mother, and sailed towards England, she was continually so tossed and tumbled hither and thither with boisterous winds that what with the raging of the water and the contrary winds her ship was prevented many times from approaching the shore and landing (2014 Primary Sources, online). Katherine met her future husband and his father at the Bishop's palace at Dangerfield in Hampshire. At this palace – against all Castilian custom, a custom historically influenced by the Moors – Henry VII insisted on lifting the veil of his son's bride. He saw a pretty girl with grey eyes. Her skin colour appeared to be what is still described of as the English rose, which she inherited from her English ancestors. Katherine's grandmother was Catherine of Lancaster, the daughter of John of Gaunt (Fraser 1998). Katherine's greatest beauty was her thick red/gold hair, hair that cascaded past her waist. When she first met Henry VII and Prince Arthur, her hair would have flowed free – as a symbol of her virginity. Sigh. I always feel somewhat cross when I see Katherine of Aragon recreated in movies or television shows as a woman with black-hair. She wasn't. Thomas More said of her: 'There is nothing wanting in her that the most beautiful girl should have' (2014 Historic Royal Palaces, Online source).

Arthur Prince of Wales

The King and Prince Arthur expressed themselves fully pleased with Katherine. Arthur wrote later about his joy at first seeing 'the sweet face of his bride' (Fraser 1998, p. 24). But Arthur's happiness was short-lived. Within only a few months of marriage, the fifteen-year-old prince was dead and Katherine fighting for her own life. They had both been stricken with one of those sudden deadly illnesses of the period – probably the English sweat - that struck fast and hard. Katherine was pious and honest. After Arthur's death, Katherine said, over and over, that their marriage had never been consummated. Her father wrote, in 1503, 'It is well known that the princess is still a virgin'. But he was also a wily politician. In arranging Katherine's betrothal to Prince Henry, her husband's younger brother, her father asked the Pope to write up the dispensation in a way that made the question of her virginity unimportant and would safeguard Katherine's later marriage. Henry VII also protected his own child and son, not forgetting his political back – the marriage would only go forward when Henry the younger was old enough to agree to the match. Katherine endured seven dreadful years after Arthur's death. A political pawn – in the hand of a father-in-law who often acted towards her like an utter miser – she was kept short of funds, as well as powerful friends. I agree with Antonia Fraser that these years of deprivation shaped her in such a way that made it impossible for her to bend when Henry VIII later sought to take a new wife (Fraser 1998). In that future time, Katherine probably remembered her time of triumph after seven years of hell while a widow. It is possible that she thought that all she needed to do was to keep faith and God would answer her prayers again. I also find myself wondering if this time of deprivation impacted upon her health. Katherine spent many hours praying and days fasting during these bleak years. Perhaps this led to some kind of physical damage that caused complications during her pregnancies, making it difficult for her to bear living children. Alison Weir also suggests this in Henry VIII, King and Court, that Katherine's deep piety and habit of fasting – behaviours reinforced during her widowhood – may have caused reproduction problems (Weir 2001). Just before Henry VII died, a desperate Katherine contemplated taking the veil. She was saved from this destiny for another destiny when the King died in 1509 and she married – just weeks later – his son, Henry VIII. During the early years of Katherine's marriage to the young Henry Tudor, the English court had a reputation for learning as well as piety. I have no doubt that Katherine influenced and encouraged her husband's better traits. Greatly respected for her intelligence, Katherine acted as her father's ambassador during the early years of her marriage to Henry. Henry VIII also had no hesitation in entrusting his Kingdom to his wife whenever he decided to ride off to war with France, his country's traditional enemy. Katherine did her very best to provide Henry with a royal heir. She believed she had done her duty by giving her husband their daughter, Mary, the only child of their union to survive infancy and live to adulthood. Perhaps if the fates had been kinder – if her husband hadn't convinced himself that their marriage was accursed, and indeed was no marriage after his hopes for a son had been dashed time after time by the birth of yet another dead or soon to be dead baby – Mary could have been a valid answer to the English succession.

18 Year Old Henry in 1509

Katherine took her responsibilities as Queen very seriously. She gave money to the poor, was a patron of scholars and poets, and enriched religious orders not only with her presence, but also with her wealth. As the events of the Evil May Day, in 1517, proved when she begged for four hundred lives of those who had rioted in London, protesting against foreigners making their livelihoods in London, she was willing to stand up to her husband for those deprived of power. Her actions on during that terrible May were long remembered in a ballad: What if (she said) by Spanish blood, have London's stately streets being wet, Yet will I seek this country's good And pardons for their children get; Or else, the world will speak to me, And say, "Queen Catherine was unkind," And judge me still the cause to be, These young men did misfortune find. And so disrobed of rich attire, With hair unbound she sadly hies, And of her gracious lord required, A boon, which hardly he denies… For which, kind Queen, with joyful heart, She heard their mothers' thanks and praise; And so from them did gently part, And lived beloved all her days… (Luke 1971, p.195). Henry VIII may have rejected her as his wife, but England never rejected her as one of their most beloved Queens. To this day, also like Anne Boleyn, flowers are placed on her tomb. Sometimes, I find myself imagining Katherine and Anne, alone together, in a heavenly, Tudor garden. The sun shines brightly as they sit close together, heads bent, their hands busy at completing exquisite embroideries. They murmur and laugh together, and I hear the often-repeated name of Henry: a man they both loved until their last living breath. I think, in Heaven, free of life's sorrows and the battles to live and to love, Anne and Katherine would at last discover their common ground and find an eternal friendship. References: Fraser, A, 1998, The six wives of Henry VIII, Arrow Books, London Weir, A, 2001, Henry VIII, King and court, Ballantine Books, New York Luke, M. L 1971, Catherine, the Queen, Paperback Library, New York Liss, P. K 2002, "Isabel, Myth and History", in Isabel la Católica, Queen of Castile: Critical Essays, David A. Boruchoff (Editor), 2002, Palgrave Macmillan, New York. 2014. Primary Sources: The death of Prince Arthur Tudor, 1502. [ONLINE] Available at: http://englishhistory.net/tudor/darthur.html. [Accessed 17 September 2014]. 2014 Historic Royal Palaces: Hampton Palace, viewed 17 September 2014, [this is an Editors' Choice post, first published on 19/09/2014] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wendy J. Dunn is an Australian writer who has been obsessed by Anne Boleyn and Tudor History since she was ten-years-old. She is the author of two Tudor novels: Dear Heart, How Like You This?, the winner of the 2003 Glyph Fiction Award and 2004 runner up in the Eric Hoffer Award for Commercial Fiction, and The Light in the Labyrinth, her first young adult novel. While she continues to have a very close and spooky relationship with Sir Thomas Wyatt, the elder, serendipity of life now leaves her no longer wondering if she has been channeling Anne Boleyn and Sir Tom for years in her writing, but considering the possibility of ancestral memory. Her own family tree reveals the intriguing fact that her ancestors – possibly over three generations – had purchased land from both the Boleyn and Wyatt families to build up their own holdings. It seems very likely Wendy's ancestors knew the Wyatts and Boleyns personally. Born in Melbourne, Australia, Wendy is married and the mother of three sons and one daughter—named after a certain Tudor queen, surprisingly, not Anne. Wendy tutors at Swinburne University in their Master of Arts (Writing) program. She also works at a primary school as a literature support teacher. For more information about Wendy J. Dunn, visit her website at www.wendyjdunn.com. 

Hat Tip To: English Historical Fiction Authors