#and mortality and its limits never sat well with him anyway
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thedevillionaire · 1 year ago
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OC details: 🍎 [red apple], 🤔 [thinking face], 🖊️ [ballpoint pen], 💯[hundred points symbol] for the perennial couple and/or dealer’s choice.
A pleasure. 🤗 🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace? Both were mortally born, so the transition to the Underworld definitely does away with any living in/around of birthplaces, but other than that... Cerberus - born in Oxford, UK, not that it would make much of a difference to things - harbours a strong distaste for the mortal realm and avoids it as much as he can. He'd probably enjoy it more than he thinks he would, really, these days, but he's unlikely to give it much of a chance. Kia - born in Sydney, Australia - quite liked it, and never left it, during mortal times. She moved a LOT, but stayed within the city itself. And she does go back still - either on the sly, to peek in at old friends, or for the Take (the Underworldian Vampiric blood-drinking deal), just because she knows the basic layout of some of it. 🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms? Literally the first thing to leap immediately to my mind is that Cerberus is a regular and very reliable employer of the pre-sneeze raised index finger. Does this count? Well. Anyway. Ahem. (Totally a mannerism. I'm keeping it. 😏) Kia is very tactile, and when she's excitedly engaged in conversation will nearly always reach over and touch the other person's hand whenever there's a particularly strong point of agreement. If you told her she did this, she'd deny it - she just doesn't consciously realise that she does it. 🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos? 💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know. Both of these are answered here!
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mirrorsblogs · 1 year ago
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𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥. 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 (𝟏)
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗲.
Levi stood over the body of his dead friend, silently wishing he had the ability to do what his heart desired and revive him. The needle shook in his hand, he looked around at the crying figures of those young cadets. He looked around for her, his girl, for a rare reprieve in this living nightmare.
“Where-” He whispered, cutting himself off when he looked up at the wall.
Reiner and that Beast titan stood up there, silently gloating at their rare victory over the Scouts. Both haggard and clearly not in the best shape to fight but well enough to observe the implosion of the Scout regiment. He saw her up there, Lina.
“Levi, you have to choose,” Hange commanded, barely holding back Mikasa.
There was a static in his ears, nothing was able to process in his brain. Levi’s body went into autopilot as his spirit drifted away. Why was she up there? Why was she standing among those monsters?
“Sir…How do you know for sure there’s nobody on the other side of the walls?” Erwin muttered.
Levi looked down horrified at the man in front of him, he had no more capacity in him to care. He felt his mind reaching its limit, Levi pushed the reality away from him and marched towards Armin.
I’ve been betrayed. I have to kill my friend, my brother in this world.
Levi supposed he was happy before, finally at peace. He had people with him, he had a support system. He was sane before he lost it all.
All good things come to an end, especially for me.
Happiness never suited Levi fully anyways, he would deal. He would survive the many military tribunals questioning him on his relationship with Lina. Constant accusation of him being a traitor as if he had not given everything to this country. He had nothing left within him to give, they took it all.
“Captain Ackerman, are you admanent that you had nothing to do with the defect of Cadet Lina Zimmerman?”
“I am certain. She deceived me like everyone else.” His voice felt hollow.
“Forgive me for being so doubtful of your answer, Captain, you are one of the strongest in the whole military. How did this slip past you?”
Levi kept silent at first, it was a direct shot at his ego but he had nothing left within him to genuinely be offended. How foolish could he have been to think she was never going to betray him? That he could finally be content with his life
“I don’t know, Commander.” He stared down Darius, almost wishing him to discharge Levi.
Every question further after that felt like his chest was being cracked further and further open. His organs being plucked one by one till he was a husk of what he was. He sat there and stood for his alleged crime of being blinded by love. 
Erwin was gone, Lina betrayed him, and Hange was depressed like him. 
Tears came slowly as they often did in these times for Levi. It was a dam at first then the flood came, he did not know how to stop it. Betrayal had never felt so bitter on his tongue.
Levi lies awake in the bed he shared with her, refusing to even think of the name should she ever be summoned. It was bigger than the other beds in the rest of the regiment but it was meant to accommodate two people not just one. The other side remained cold for the rest of the night. 
He reached a hand out and caressed the blanket which Lina clutched so often, afraid Levi would pull it from her. His expression dimmed again when he caught himself reminiscing. 
She’s a traitor, stop romanticizing it all.
But then he had to forget those nights…
“Would you ever become a titan-shifter if you had the chance?” She asked out of the blue. Her head on her pillow staring directly across at Levi who was also facing towards her.
“Never, it’ll only disadvantage me. Besides, being mortal lets me value what they don’t.” He pushed some of her hair behind her ear.
“Like what?”
“For starters, you.” Levi paused in his brushing and cradled her cheek. “With all the years I’d be living as a shifter I wouldn’t be able to value the life I have with you.”
The popular theory of the time was that Eren Yeager would have an elongated lifespan due to his regenerative ability being able to fight off aging. That titan-shifters would live for generations while mere mortals died as per the norm. A prevalent but not proven theory of course.
Levi watched Lina’s face intently, confused by the sour look she had, what did he say that was so wrong?
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No, sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”
How stupid she must have thought of him, to even consider that titan-shifters lived longer than thirteen years? Levi imagined that she was laughing at him internally in those moments, looking down on him even further as another island devil.
Those thoughts were pushed to the side, he had to focus on the mission. He silently rode to the coast, the sand getting in his boots without him realizing.
The sea, in his opinion, was beautiful and the best part however. Filled with life and ecosystems in their own little worlds, oblivious to the conflict happening on the surface. Occasionally being affected by the long boat or apex predator swimming alone. He reached his hand down to the water, and a fish grazed his skin. 
Such a funny feeling. Feeling so free but encased in such a lonely environment.
He blinked, who was he thinking about? Himself or the fish?
“You alright there, Levi?” Hange asked, truly joyous for the first time since Erwin died.
“They would have all loved this,” Levi whispered. His eyes raked over the young cadets who played in the salty sea. He imagined all his dead comrades who would have loved to experience this, they were robbed of it.
“Nanaba probably would have splashed Miche a million times over,” Hange laughed, their mood somewhat downturned by the thought of her previous friends.
“Erwin would have stood by the shore the whole time, too afraid to dip his toes in.”
“Nah, I would have dragged him in here.” Hange looked back to the shore almost expecting him to be there, it was deserted except for the horses. “We do this for them, you know that right?”
“Yeah, doesn’t make it hurt less though.”
Hange chose not to respond and instead descended further into the water, it reached their ankles now. Levi remained planted near the shore but still in the sea, small waves splashed up against his upper legs. It was cold but no colder than how his body felt.
I wanted that.
Sasha splashed Jean who did the same to her, both of them screaming in pain at the salt getting in their eyes. 
I deserved that,
Armin laughed at Mikasa who stumbled in the water, struggling to keep her balance.
Why can’t I have that?
He gasped when Hange splashed his upper half, he glared at her.
“Four-eyes!”
Levi began playing the water, feeling more carefree than he ever had since- since-
“What is Lina doing up there?” Hange yelled, anger lining their voice.
“Hange.” Levi reached out to their shoulder. They turned to find Levi vulnerable for once, a fragile look in his eyes gave it all away.
“Sh- she betrayed us,” Hange whispered, astonished that they had been cheated for this long.
“She betrayed me.” Levi’s eyes were wide, he was not furious. Only embarrassed at himself. He gave his soul away, how could he be so stupid? “We need to regroup and find the horses remaining.”
“Levi-” Hange began before they were interrupted.
“Don’t. If I stop I have to think about it and if I think about it this military will lose its most prized tool. So let’s focus on keeping whoever is alive, alive.”
He stopped. He finally stopped. How glorious it felt.
𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦
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dujour13 · 2 years ago
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Tender for siavash and woljif?
Thank you!! I deleted the list of prompts because I got scared of not having enough time, but you got this in first and I ended up making time because it was worth it. 💕
---
Woljif wasn’t sure what woke him, but he hadn’t been sleeping well recently anyway. Now that the shadow was gone he’d been hoping for some peace. Instead, ever since Iomedae had burst out of the stained-glass window on the Drezen temple, other dark things had begun whispering in his ear.
At his side, Siavash was restless. He rarely complained, but Woljif was aware that the wound had been giving him grief, the way he often made little pained sounds and rolled to ease the pressure on his chest.
He stared unseeing at the pale sliver of moonlight high on the Citadel chamber wall, his mind turning like the wheels of a carriage stuck in the mud. Progress had stalled on the Lexicon, although it had started out well, now that they had the two halves and Nenio had figured out how to get the enchanted words to sit still. The Storyteller knew a lot about how Nahyndrian crystals worked, and with help from the Queen’s arcanists he’d been able to decipher a few things, even though they used a lot of big words he didn’t know and tended to waste time bickering about stupid details.
The rifts, the “points of incision,” were places where the fabric of the planes was folded. A “being of duality was cobbled together”—Areelu and Siavash, no doubt—and it was that duality that opened the Worldwound, and it was killing them both.
She wrote that Nahyndrian crystals lent a mortal soul the strength to withstand the process, but had said they were both at their limit, so another infusion wouldn’t help. If Areelu Vorlesh hadn’t found a solution, what chance did a street-rat tiefling from Kenabres have?
But all that felt like nicking petty cash when the real treasure was locked in an impenetrable vault. He kept coming back to the same question: why? If the point was simply to destroy Sarkoris in a fit of vengeful fury, there must be simpler ways of doing that. He’d already discarded the theory that she bound herself to the Abyss and opened the Worldwound to gain the immortality of a half-fiend, because she’d almost died in the process. And none of that explained why she did it to Siavash too.
Siavash shifted again, rotating his shoulder. In the pale half-light Woljif could see the crease of pain in his brow as he slept. He sat up on one elbow and peered more closely at the edge of the wound as if it could tell its secrets. Healing magic didn’t work because it was more than a physical wound—a wound in the soul, and this was its physical manifestation. If it would not stay closed, it must be because something was tearing it open���that “duality” Areelu kept going on about.
There were too many unknowns. It was like waltzing into a heist with no inside intel. You never knew where the loot was stashed, or even if there was any to begin with. Or whether there were dogs. Like that one time—but he was getting sidetracked.
Siavash opened his eyes and pressed a hand to the wound, rolling onto his back.
“Chief? You all right?”
“Sorry.”
“The wound?”
“It’s all right.”
“Bullshit.”
“Woljif, please don’t worry. Get some sleep.”
Instead, he sat up and swung his legs out of bed. No chance of going back to sleep now. The Lexicon lay open on the desk. He pulled on a pair of pajama trousers, padded over to the desk and made a soft light spell. Rubbing his eyes, he checked through his latest notes, found where he left off, and began to read again.
The Worldwound is linked to the Key, but the Key is also linked to the Worldwound, and carries it in his soul. Then surely closing the Worldwound should heal it? Why did Iomedae say it wouldn’t?
He flipped back to the chapter on Suture: a demon torn apart when it was pulled through the Worldwound rift Areelu created, then stitched back together: did that mean there was a way to—
And then it came to him. Sitting at the table at Gran’s as she was showing him how to cut a hole in his trousers for his tail and then sew the hem back up, because he was almost six and she wasn’t doing it for him anymore. Pushing the needle through the fabric and pulling the thread tight. Licking his fingers and twisting the thread between them to make a knot. Then the true test: you tugged on it to see if it held.
Areelu Vorlesh had sewn the Abyss to Golarion. She had sewn an Abyssal soul to her own, and to Siavash’s—“the other half of your soul”, as she’d called it—and the two sides were tugging against each other.
Hadn’t Siavash said he felt torn by the bouts of demonic rage? That he’d come to a sort of reconciliation on board the airship? He was stitched to the Abyss.
His eyes went wide with excitement. That meant that you could snip the thread somewhere and unravel it, separate them without tearing… but would that kill him? Areelu surely thought of all this before. He shook his head in frustration.
Suddenly he felt a pair of arms wrap around his bare shoulders. “Come back to bed.”
In the bottom of his chest, something caved in. His lips began to tremble and tears pooled in his eyes. “No,” he whispered.
“I should never have put this on you.”
“Cut it out, it’s not your fault.”
“Stop trying to do it alone. Tomorrow we’ll meet with the astrologers from Pulura’s Fall. It’s going to be all right, Woljif.”
With tremendous effort, Woljif forced down a sob and let himself be led back to bed.
Unlike Siavash, he was too agitated to lay still, let alone sleep, so he propped himself on a pillow and drew Siavash’s head close to his side, and lay tenderly stroking his hair.
If I’d a’ taken Ygefeles’ deal, I’d be livin’ it up in Alushinyrra right now. Probly have half a dozen succubi in my bed feedin’ me grapes and massagin’ my feet.
Instead I have one azata who feeds me cookies and massages my feet.
Definitely the better deal.
Except that his azata was dying.
In a few days they would march on Threshold and it would be too late. Still, he felt he had seized an important thread (so to speak), and as he eventually drifted off his dreaming mind realized that with enough energy you could turn the Worldwound inside out like a sewed-up seam and make it bloom again.
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hoboblaidd · 3 months ago
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"In a sense," Solas said carefully, although as she spoke it he saw the obvious similarities. The Inquisitor had opened a rift directly into the Fade using the anchor. It was just what he'd made it for, and it had been done almost subconsciously. "But the Inquisitor's mark is as unique as it is limited. It can close or, as we learned, open breaches in the Veil. Apart from that, it does not bestow any other abilities to my knowledge." It was a delicate line he had to toe. He wanted to speak openly, especially to her, but that was impossible. So he danced somewhere in the middle of truth and obstruction.
He rose as she glanced back at the relic, his muscles groaning from the stilted position he'd been in. He studied the treeline again and placed a greater ward around their little camp. Spirits would be drawn here. Something he might otherwise welcome, but with the uncertainty of what she carried in her mind it may be dangerous.
Solas returned to the fire, crouching to dig through his pack for some basic sustenance. It wasn't much, but bread and cheese would do to satiate during what may be a long night. He laid both near the stones around the fire, allowing them time to crisp and melt before handing her a piece. It was clear from the look on his face that this was nonnegotiable. She needed to eat after that ordeal, and he was confident his stubbornness would win out over hers.
"I assure you, her knowledge has not improved this last decade," he muttered, petty and prideful. But he held up his hands in surrender at Nanna's look. Solas would keep the peace, if the witch did. Unless she decided to tell more fanciful tales of a culture she little understood.
He bit back another smart remark at her revelation that a Dalish Keeper had helped her find understanding, though his face likely gave him away. The Dalish he had encountered knew as much as the witch, which was its own damning declaration. But for once in his life he withheld his tongue, and said instead in a somewhat stilted tone, "I am pleased that you have not endured this alone." That, at least, was true. "And have been able to impart to the Dalish some actual knowledge of their history." The self-restraint was never going to last anyway.
Solas sat back down, more comfortably than last time. "What of when you dream?" he asked. "Do you sense that the memories are stronger in the Fade? The ancient elves inhabited a world without the Veil, and if your arcane warrior lived before the fall of Arlathan, they would have been as comfortable in a world of spirits as of...mortals." The semantics were difficult, given his people had been functionally immortal (though still prone to the aches and pains of aging, which Solas was learning to his great displeasure). The idea was true, regardless.
"It could be investigated further in the Fade," he mused, watching the shimmering of the relic through the dancing flames. "But from what I have seen in the Fade, the empire of the elves was no different than any large organization of today. There were equal parts goodness and corruption. Look at the civil war in Orlais, and imagine that extending across the continent. It could well be dangerous to explore further into your warrior's memories or possible consciousness. They may not be benevolent." And this not even to protect himself and the lie that was 'Solas.' He very much meant it. "If you would search I would search with you, but it may not be advisable. The connection you have forged seems inextricable. If there is a way for a more malicious spirit or entity to take advantage, it will be in the Fade."
"It is not possession," she is quick to assure him. "Their intent had only been to give me the knowledge of the Arcane Warriors, but I believe wholly that their control on what they intended to bestow was weakened after so long, and in their desperation for release gave all. Memories have been all that has ever manifested."
But as soon as she spoke the words, Nanna hesitated to continue, considering the actuality of their accuracy. Well. That wasn't entirely true.
"... Only once did I experience any sort of manifestation of consciousness from them, but I hesitate to call it such. I am not all together certain it was not the result of a spirit picking up traces of the memories they had left behind - I had reacted in battle in a way that triggered one of their granted abilities of slipping partially between the Veil and suddenly found some sort of connection." A knuckle touched her bottom lip in thought. "It is to my understanding that the Inquisitor experienced something similar during the events at Adamant, with the Divine? But no such connection has ever occurred in the years hence. So, no, there has been no other presence to be aware of and I do not believe there ever has been."
With the brief lull in his thoughts, Nanna took that moment to glance back towards the direction of the relic, its verdant brilliance low yet vibrant in the dimmed daylight. The source of She would have loved to instead have told him of the Lady of the Forest, of the werewolves and the Grand Oak and the wonder that had colored her world from her first true experiences beyond the isolating walls of the Circle Tower, and his returning knowledge on things she may have missed. Subjects far more uplifting than laying open the vulnerable.
But that was a childish wish. As uneasy as this conversation was proving to be, it was something Solas deserved to know, and it would not have come about at all if Nanna didn't trust him as implicitly as she did. And all things considered, it was becoming less difficult to speak of the event and she wasn't certain if that were a testament to her faith in the apostate, or if her time going over such details with Lanaya over the years had given her a more practiced ease.
"You needn't blame Morrigan," came the gentle response, her gaze lifting to him firm but earnest. "She understood little more than I, at the time, of what I had gotten myself into. And it has been nigh on ten years since last we met. I would not further distract her whilst she was set in service to the Inquisition."
The two apostates had never gotten along that she had seen, in spite of what she would assume of them separately at first, and Nanna had often wondered what had occurred between the two that would have caused the degree of animosity they shared - seemingly the only thing they were willing to share beyond their friendship with Nanna herself.
Even so, she knew Morrigan little more practiced in tact or connection than when they had last met those years ago at the steps of the eluvian, and yet- though she would never say it in their hearing, the mage was strongly of the opinion that it was a clash of similarities that divided the pair more than any other conflict.
"But I have not been without. The Keeper that had followed Zathrian, Lanaya, has been a great confidant in sorting through the grand menagerie of fractured thought I had been left with these past years and I have documented what I have been able to discern on my own. It has been an arrangement we have kept to these past years when her clan travels near Amaranthine; she aides me where she is able in helping me decipher the visions I am granted, and I return to her some piece of their history."
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secondhand-trash · 4 years ago
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Kinktober 2020 — under the table
A/N: omg it has been half a year since I last wrote any ghost!shinsou this is why I should never do series- but anyways here is out first fic for kinktober, kicking it off with the return of ghost boyfriend!^^
Warning: oral (receiving), fingering
Word count: 2641
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Q:
What kind of street do ghosts prefer to live on?
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Shinsou sat on the kitchen counter crossed leg as you paced around the room, mumbling to yourself as you checked off everything that was laid out.
“Remind me, why are you suddenly in need of learning how to cook again?" 
You turned around with a sigh, shoving your hands into the pockets of your apron. (The purple apron with cats printed all over it was Shinsou’s, he had spent hours looking for it when you suddenly came to him saying that you needed to learn how to cook a decent proper meal within a week.)
It all started when you got a message from your mom one Sunday afternoon. You were sitting cross legged on the living room floor, all the old records left in the house by one of its previous owners sprawled out all around you. You had decided that it was not ok to just stack all of them up in the corner and pulled your ghost boyfriend to sort everything out so you could store them properly. He had protested but got shut down when you made the very valid argument that he literally didn’t have anything else better to do, to which he claimed that you were abusing his status as a ghost to get him to provide labour. 
You were still trying to explain to him why arranging everything by alphabetical order was a better way of sorting than doing it by genre when your passionate rambling was disrupted by a ping from your phone. Shinsou watched as you picked it up with a smile, then freezing in place when you read the message, and your eyes going from dead to contemplating to panicking in a matter of seconds.
He shifted to sit closer to you when you put your phone onto the ground, your eyes as wide as saucers while staring blankly ahead.
“Is everything ok?” he asked, giving you a light tap on your forearm.
“Toshi,”
“Yes?”
You blinked, before opening your mouth slowly, “Can you teach me how to cook?”
Fast forward a few days ahead and there he was, pondering how long it had been since he last tried to cook anything. Shinsou was not a master chef by all means, but in the short period of time when he was alive and actually needed food to survive, he had trained himself to be somewhat of a decent cook in order to save money from buying takeout. He never really thought much about it but now that he watched you struggle to chop up an onion with oddly placed hands and slicing down cutting only the thinnest slice at a time, he realised that he had never seen you cook something more elaborate than sunny-side up on instant noodles since you moved into the house he haunted.
“You can always order take out and then transfer them onto your own plates or something,” he leaned to the side, his brows locked together at how clumsy you were, “I’m sure your parents won’t notice.”
You turned around with an exasperated sigh and he immediately reached out to warn you from waving the knife around, “Yes but this is the first time they’ll come over and I want to show that I, you know, have my shit together!”
“If you keep swinging that thing around then you won’t even have all five fingers together,” he clicked his tongue, hopping off the kitchen counter when you flashed him a sheepish smile as you slowly put the knife down. He walked over, blinking a few times at the poor onion that looked like it just suffered from a failed beheading. He sighed pitifully, and you happily handed him the blade when he extended his hand to you. 
“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done,” his fingers were arched up against the vegetable as he skillfully sliced them up, “did you microwave the potatoes as I told you to?”
“Yeah, I put them in there directly.”
He paused, “Didn’t you put the dices into a metal bowl?”
You tiled your head, not understanding why he would bring that up. “Yeah?”
"...metals will explode in the microwave.”
“Oh fuck-”
-
You solved the issue of your hopelessness in the kitchen by not going in at all. 
Shinsou took up the task of cooking on the night your parents would be visiting after witnessing you almost burning yourself on the stove from boiling water. Humans could be such fragile creatures sometimes, he thought to himself as he picked the pot up from the fire with his bare hands, feeling not even a tickle on his deadly cold skin. 
He still thought that you were being way too dramatic with the way you checked the table every time you passed by and adjusting the utensils on top even though the difference would not be noticed by anyone that wasn’t you. 
But still, when he saw you getting yourself into near death situations from the smallest of tasks, he decided that if he couldn’t get you to give up your plan of serving up a homemade supper then he would take the matter into his own hands. 
Your mortality was far more important over his cynicism and the last thing he wanted was to chain you down in this house with him for a cause as dumb as you accidentally blowing the kitchen up.
“Kitten,” he sighed as he put down the salad bowl in the center of the table, holding onto your fidgeting hands, “you are starting to make me nervous and they can’t even see me.” 
You paused, and he felt the dread building up in his chest when he realised that he had said the wrong thing as your eyes widened. “Oh god, what if they can see you too? How should I explain to them that I’m living with someone? I-”
Your rambling was interrupted a ring of the bell that echoed through the house. You sucked in a deep breath, squeezing his hand tight as if you could calm yourself down with the coldness of his skin.
“Should I hide?” he asked when you got to the door.
You ran your hand down your face, your knuckles popping out as you gripped onto the metal doorknob. “They can’t see you, right?”
Shinsou felt a strange stir in his chest when he saw the dramatic change in expression on your face the moment the door was opened. Shivers crept up on him when your parents looked around the house, their gaze going directly past him even though he was standing right next to you. He sighed. He had gotten so used to you that he had instinctively expected to be noticed when most people would not even pick up on his existence at all. 
“Who were you talking to just then?”
“What?” you let out a forced chuckle, hoping that the panic that flashed through your eyes would not be recognisable, “No, no one. It’s just me.”
He was left at the side as you showed your guests to the dining room, walking straight past him. He stood there as the familiar feeling of being invisible caught up to him like a wave. 
Would you have introduced him to your parents had he been alive?
It wasn’t often that he thought of the possibilities had he stayed alive. In fact, he truly did think he had reached the point where he was content with the situation he was stuck in. There were lonely times, times when he was very much so here but didn’t feel like it as the world past him by, leaving him as nothing but a fragment in the past that was sealed within these walls. But then you showed up, and then suddenly he had company. Someone to hold at night, someone to laugh with, someone who would correct him when he did the wrong steps while clumsily following dance tracks. Everything seemed to be great, even though he still had limits to be bound to.
“This is amazing,” an unexplained irritation welled up in his chest at the surprised gasp of your mother reached his ear. “did you really make this yourself?”
“Of course, I’ve been learning how to cook since I moved out!”
It was always odd to watch a family interact from the point of view of a complete stranger. He could see everything more clearly but also knew nothing about the dynamic or the nuance behind each word. He thought of his own family for the first time in years as he watched you smiled cordially at the table.
He wondered what they would think about you too.
Perhaps he had underestimated how much years of loneliness had affected him, or he just wasn’t keen on being reminded that no matter how real this all was, you two were still very much so on the different side of life and death, and the sudden emptiness was suffocating him. 
It was like you had forgotten that he was still there too, and he wasn’t happy about it.
You sat at the table, pushing the food on your plate around as you eyed your parent’s reaction nervously. They seemed to be enjoying it, giving “your cooking" compliment after compliment. You would have to really reward Shinsou for his help later on, you thought to yourself as the knots in your stomach slowly loosened up.
Where was he now? Did he really hide up? You tried to glance around as subtly as you could manage, seeing if you could catch a glimpse of violet hair poking out from the corners.
You dropped your knife when you felt something cold touching your calf. 
“Is something wrong?” 
“No, everything is fine,” you forced out a smile but inside you were panicking. What the fuck? What was he doing under there?
You nearly couldn’t hold in the gasp you were about to let out when his head slid up from your calf to your knees, pushing them apart. Your hand instinctively gripped onto the edge of the tabletop, not able to move away in fear that your parents who were sitting right opposite to you would pick up on the way your jaw was clenched.
You had no way of ignoring his touch as he gripped onto your thighs. His ice cold fingers sent shivers down your spine as he danced them across your warm skin, each tap and each stroke of his fingertip along the root of your leg had you sitting straighter and straighter against the back of your chair.
“So, what have you been up to lately?”
“Oh, nothing much-” you coughed when his finger brushed past your clothed slit. You tried to close your legs shut but you were stuck with him being right in between. Your breath hitched when your panties were peeled off, your now bare cunt clenched around nothing reflectively when the layer of fabric was suddenly gone.
You felt terribly vulnerable with your legs being pushed back and for a split second, you were hyper aware of even the tiniest twitch of your muscles. Your parents didn’t seem to notice that you were sitting awfully stiff in your seat, your legs feeling like they were about to cramp up with how hard you were trying to close them up.
“Mm-” you bit down on your lips when he licked a long strip up from the very bottom of your folds all the way up to your hooded clit, his tongue pulling away with a flick against the small bud.
“Did you just say something?”
“Oh no, you must have misheard,” the muscles around your face was twitching as you tried to remain a neutral expression as he continued to alternate between swirling and pressing down on your clit with the tip of his tongue.
Fuck him for knowing your body so well.
Your legs were shaking under the jolts of electricity that shot up from your core all the way up to the back of your neck. He seemed to only get more vigorous with his licks and sucks, lapping up on the wetness that was starting to seep out of you. Your toes curled and uncurled, gripping onto the floor to your desperation as his cold breath fanned across your sopping pussy. Each drag of his tongue had you spasming, the lack of temperature on his lips numbing your senses as he dipped his tongue in with each flick. 
“Anybody you are seeing?”
All movements paused. His teeth graced past your clit tentatively, as if questioning what you were gonna do. You gulped, feeling the tip of your ears burned up.
“No-”
You jolted forward when he placed a hard suck on your clit. Your parents eyed you with a confused stare and you gripped onto the glass on the table, bringing it to your trembling lips to take a sip. 
He slipped his tongue in, dragging it along your walls at a rough pace. The corner of your lips was twitching, dreading the fact that your parents seemed to take your choked answer as a sign that you were hiding something. You gritted through your teeth, trying hard to not let any of the moans that were threatening to slip out leaked.
You could hear the slurping, like he had done a sloppy job concealing each pop and lap on purpose. It was like the two of you were in your own world, and the other people were intruders sitting there with a veil separating the two of you. He paid close attention to the way you reacted to each touch, the muscle of your legs flexing under his hand as the heaving of your chest got heavier and heavier.
You could almost feel blood on your lips from how hard you were biting down when he slipped his fingers in, matching the rhythm of his tongue with the pumping of his digits. You brought your napkin to your lips, covering your parted mouth.
You nearly screamed into your napkin when he crooked his finger, the prodding of his joints inside of your spongey walls had your muscles clenching down. 
His mouth left your folds with a lingered lick before pulling his fingers out with a languish drag, his lips ghosted along your inner thigh until he was gone completely. No more touches on your skin, not even a puff of air anywhere near you. He was just gone, vanished into thin air with nothing but your fluttering folds and the mess between your legs to remind you that he had very much so been kneeling there and making you crumble down just moments earlier.
You gave a slight shake of your head when your parents once again questioned the way your face scrunched up, your hand shaking as you dropped the napkin down onto your lap.
Stupid fucking ghost and their disappearing acts.
-
“We had been worry about you when you said you want to move out but it seems like you are doing fine, perhaps we really worried too much...”
“I told you so,” you said as you opened the door.  Your smile was rigid on your face as you walked your parents to the door, trying very hard to ignore the dullness between your legs, “come back at any time!”
Your smile dropped the moment the door shut in front of your eyes. Turning around on your heels, Shinsou was right there, a lazy smile tugging on his face with no remorse.
He had his arms crossed, leaning all his weight on one leg in a posture that was not fitted for someone who nearly had you moaning out loud in front of your parents.
You grinned, and he felt goosebumps rising on his skin at how innocent and sweet the smile was.
“You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight.”
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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago
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Spilled Pearls
- Chapter 14 - ao3 -
If Lan Qiren hadn’t had any idea on what to do with Cangse Sanren to begin with, he had even less of an idea of what to do when he received a letter from his sworn brother which, after some deciphering of the small talk and insincerely meant pleasantries that could just as easily be read as implicit threats, seemed to boil down to so I hear you have a lover now? and also come to the Nightless City at once.
I do not have a lover, Lan Qiren wrote back crossly. You should send whatever spies you have packing because they are clearly completely useless to you. Also, I have classes that I have no intention of missing. If you want company, recall that you have a wife.
That won him a few weeks of blissful silence, possibly due to Wen Ruohan’s shock but more likely due to Lan Qiren having spitefully chosen to send his reply by usual post rather than by special post, which was more expensive and also generally reserved for important sect matters and not for obvious fishing attempts for gossip about the personal lives of juniors.
Which Wen Ruohan should be above, anyway. What did it matter to him?
The response, not long after that, went something along the lines of so what you’re saying is that you haven’t won the immortal mountain’s disciple yet? if you come to Qishan, I can advise you and that irritated Lan Qiren most of all, because right up until that point he hadn’t known that Cangse Sanren was a disciple of the famous Baoshan Sanren, the best-known immortal still in contact with the mortal world.
Mostly because Cangse Sanren hadn’t ever bothered to introduce herself.
It bothered him, a little. More than a little. She knew how much he valued people acting according to the rules; even if she didn’t care for them, shouldn’t she respect his inclination?
(It turned out that she didn’t introduce herself because she didn’t have a proper name, just the title that everyone used for her. Baoshan Sanren let everyone keep the name they came to the mountain with, but Cangse Sanren had come too young for any name at all, and so she’d never gotten one in all the suspiciously unspecified years she had spent on the timeless mountain. It was a pretty good reason not to introduce yourself, as such things went, and it also belatedly explained why she took offense to people calling anyone old.)
I am not trying to win anyone, he wrote back to Wen Ruohan. And even if I was, which I am not, I would still have classes and am not currently at liberty to travel. Has there been some sort of terrible tragedy such that your Wen sect is so desperate for additional people in the Nightless City?
You are not just any person but my sworn brother, Wen Ruohan responded. Am I not entitled to see you? Maybe I want to see this beard you’re reputedly growing.
Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and threw the letter into the box he was keeping all the others. He was trying to grow a beard, as it happened, though being a newly-turned eighteen it was a slow and frustrating process. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the itchy feeling of it growing, either, but stroking his chin as if in thought was nearly as cathartic as waving his hands, only more socially acceptable; he liked that part very much.
He’d always had a tendency towards strange motions – moving his hands or arms, tapping on things, or rocking back and forth when he was especially distressed – but his brother had always hated it especially, always quoting Do not move arbitrarily at him even though he knew that that wasn’t the fundamental meaning of that rule. That wouldn’t have been so much of an issue, except most other people seemed to agree with him, citing the importance of acting in a dignified and restrained manner, limiting unnecessary movement and remaining still and calm as a placid pool of water no matter what the circumstance.
The beard was an acceptable compromise. Given how common beards were in the sect, it would be hard to criticize Lan Qiren without accidentally insulting an elder – and it felt so good to be able to move freely, the action serving as an aid for emotional regulation that he desperately needed.
Of course, Cangse Sanren thought it was ugly.
Lan Qiren didn’t agree, but he also didn’t think it was any of her business what he did with his face. Even if it was ugly, so what? He wasn’t particularly egotistical.
Accordingly, he thanked her stiffly for her opinion and then proceeded to ignore it.
Apparently, that didn’t sit well with her, a fact Lan Qiren only discovered when he woke up one day, groggy and unclear as to what had happened the night before, to find himself shaven clean and Cangse Sanren beaming at him from within his own room, to which he had never invited her.
He did not react well.
Stories of your shouting have reached even Qishan, Wen Ruohan’s next letter said. Was what your little lover did really so bad? I hadn’t known you were so sensitive. It’s not as if it won’t grow back.
This is your fault, Lan Qiren wrote back, irrational and upset, his calligraphy rough from the way his hand shook – though whether in rage or something else he couldn’t quite tell. I don’t want to hear from you.
Truly his reaction had been out of proportion with Cangse Sanren’s offense. Shaving a beard, especially a half-grown thing like that, was little more than a childish prank, even if it had taken him several months to get as far as he had; in the end, it was really only a blow to his vanity, and perhaps the loss of a convenient emotional crutch.
And yet, when he’d woken up and seen her there where she wasn’t welcome – when he’d realized that he couldn’t remember the evening before, just the way he couldn’t remember what had happened in the Nightless City that day, waking up to Wen Ruohan smiling at him and an oath he didn’t know nor want – when he’d tasted the sour taste of day-old liquor on his tongue –
He’d panicked.
She’d realized it, he thought in retrospect; the ever-present smile had slowly dripped off her mouth as he stared at her blankly for the first few moments, frozen, and had morphed into an expression of shock when he had broken through his paralysis to start screaming at her to go, get out, leave – he’d even picked up some of his own things to throw at her, just to make her leave faster.
He continued smashing his things after she’d gone, unthinking in his frenzy and unsure why he was so upset, and in the end when clarity had returned and he realized what he’d done he’d been so ashamed that he’d grabbed his guqin and slunk away, retreating to the rooms where the Lan sect entered into seclusion. He couldn’t go into real seclusion with so little preparation, of course, but he was practiced enough at inedia that he could skip meals for a few days and not need to see the world for at least a week.
Part of the feeling of shame was that he didn’t know why he had reacted so badly. Wasn’t it normal for peers his age to play that sort of trick on each other? It hadn’t been meant as a real insult.
He had no right to feel so betrayed.
And yet, he did.
Cangse Sanren had visited later that day, her hand tapping lightly on the door bound by wards and her normally brash voice murmuring explanations and not-quite apologies – saying that she hadn’t realized what it had meant to him, that she wouldn’t have done it if she’d known, asking if he wouldn’t come out to talk to her about it and let her apologize properly.
He ignored her.
He ignored her the next day and the day after, too. His hands were unsteady when he tried to play calming songs for himself, his music tangled and knotted up like the feelings in his chest.
On the fourth day, she came and sat by his door in the evening, late and near to curfew.
“I didn’t know, you know,” she finally said after sitting there for nearly a shichen. “About what happened to you in the Nightless City.”
His hands froze over the guqin.
“Drinking liquor comes as easily to me as breathing,” she continued. “No one’s ever been able to play a trick on me because I got drunk – it’s everyone else who falls over in the end, not me. Maybe what why, when someone told me how badly your family handles its liquor, I thought only of how funny it would be…and not how it would feel, waking up and realizing that you didn’t know what happened. What someone could have done to you.” She was silent for a moment. “What I did do.”
Lan Qiren shut his eyes tightly.
Yes, he thought to himself. She was right. That was why he was so upset.
It wasn’t about the beard at all.
“An oath made when you didn’t know it doesn’t count, you know.”
He laughed harshly, the sound catching in his throat like thick mud. “It does,” he said, and his voice was hoarse from the lack of speech. “Of course it counts. It’s my honor, in the end…anyway, there’s no reason for me to lose my head over it. Sect Leader Wen’s powerful and influential; there are those who would cut off their right hands for a connection with him, much less an oath of brotherhood.”
He wasn’t even all that angry at Wen Ruohan for doing it, either, not really. There wasn’t much point – his few experiences with the other man so far showed that that was just what he was like, always taking instead of asking, and scheming was as innate to inter-sect politics as fighting. Might as well be angry at his grandfather for the ancestral weakness to liquor in the Lan lineage.
It had only been the shock of Cangse Sanren’s unexpected actions that had made it feel like a knife stabbed into his back, a scabbed-over wound suddenly ripped open again.
“You didn’t trust him,” Cangse Sanren pointed out. “You trusted me. And I scared you.”
Perhaps that was true.
“You’re still you, you know. Even while drunk.” She chuckled. “You talk more, care less what people think of you; you’re a little more willing to stand up for yourself, a little more bitter, a little less consciously kind. You told me all about music, something that went over my head, then went to sleep in just the right and proper way, albeit right on the floor. I had to wait until you were asleep to shave you.”
That was a relief to hear. Lan Qiren hated the idea of being so vulnerable.
Although – perhaps he wasn’t. According to Lao Nie, he’d apparently kneed Wen Ruohan in the balls that night for bothering him with nonsense or possibly for trying to leave before he finished explaining something, sometime either before or after their oath.
(After, he assumed. If it had been before, it seemed more likely that he would’ve ended up dead.)
“Anyway, I wouldn’t have done anything serious,” she added. “You wouldn’t have woken up married or anything.”
“It’s not you,” he assured her hastily, alarmed by the thought. “I didn’t mean to imply anything about your character, which I know is good; I know you wouldn’t have done anything like that. It’s only – you don’t always know what people think is enough, coming from the immortal mountain as you do. If someone really wanted to push the issue, or if you didn’t have the background you did, just you being in my room unattended might’ve served as an excuse. And then where would we be?”
She was silent for a while.
“You really don’t want to be married to me,” she finally said. “You’re not playing games or anything; you really don’t.”
Lan Qiren felt something lurch in his chest.
“No,” he said, painfully honest. “Did – did you?”
“Maybe a little,” she said, and Lan Qiren winced. The possibility hadn’t even occurred to him, not even when others had suggested it.
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know,” she said, and her voice was warm. “Don’t worry about me, Qiren; I’ll get over it soon enough. There’s no pain I won’t forget a day later, never learning anything, it’s just the way I am.”
He gnawed on his lower lip. “…can I ask why?”
“Why you, you mean?” He could hear her shrugging through the door, the fabric of her clothing rustling against the wall she was leaning against. “You care about things, deeply and truly. Rules, honor, the right path…I like the way you think, the way you care. You have a good heart and a good brain. Why not you?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and felt rather a wretch over the whole thing. “I didn’t mean to…to…”
She laughed. “You didn’t lead me on, Qiren! You only ever treated me as a friend, and I was, I think. Maybe still am?”
“You are,” he said, and looked down as his guqin, then sighed, picking it up and going to the door. There was no point in pretending to be in seclusion now that the knot in his heart had loosened, and he was starting to get hungry. “Come on, let’s go. I feel a need to graze on the kitchen’s leftover vegetables, as if I were a wild rabbit.”
She beamed up at him, round face shining like the moon.
The next day, after he finished doing penance for missing classes without advance notice – two dozen strikes, but no more – Lan Qiren went down the mountain and purchased some tea said to have especially strong stimulant properties, and gave it to Cangse Sanren.
She blinked at it, then looked at him.
“If you brew this in the morning, you won’t be so tired all the time,” he told her, and shrugged. “Since we’re friends and all.”
He didn’t have that many friends – so few as to not even have recognized her as being one. He was determined to cherish them.
She smiled.
The next day after that, there was surprising news in the Cloud Recesses, the gossip reaching the classroom faster than the messenger sent there specifically for that purpose.
Wen Ruohan had come to pay a visit.
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avengerscompound · 4 years ago
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Small Gods: Lost Objects - 5
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Lost Objects:  A Thor Fanfic
Lost Objects Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Thor x F!Reader
Rating: E
Word Count:  1722
Warnings: Mentions of sex, oh umm... hey there’s a little bit of talk about things in the trailers for the loki series some people who don’t know anything about the comics might not have picked up.  Should have warned on the series for that.  I wouldn’t personally call them spoilers, because ... i haven’t seen the series to spoil it, but if you’re the kind of person who doesn’t like to know anything...
Synopsis: Thor has lost a lot in a very short period of time and he’s worried about losing himself too.  He goes to the one person who understands loss.
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Chapter 5
Barnaby the fat ginger cat sat down and began grooming himself as the black one seemed to stare at you and Thor.  In what really was only a few seconds, Thor seemed to have a whole thought journey.  It started with how close the green of that cat’s eyes was to Loki’s and ended with the conclusion that the cat must be Loki.  The journey took him through a lot of stops, including Loki’s ability to shapeshift, the fact he had faked his death twice in the past, and the fact you could draw lost things to you, but once he landed on it, his eyes went wide.
The cat mimicked Thor’s expression as the man jumped to his feet.  “Loki!”  Thor shouted, sending the black cat running.  Barnaby seemed to watch him go with a look of contempt like he was above such things.  “Loki!”  Thor shouted again, chasing after him.
“Thor?”  You asked, following on, though with much less urgency than Thor.  “It won’t be Loki.”
“It has to be,” Thor said, looking around.  The cat had vanished, but two rows over there was a bang and the smell of sulfur followed by a cat yowling.  Thor charged in the direction of the sound and when he came around the corner and came to a screeching halt as he reached his brother who was lying up against a partially knocked over shelf, his legs in the air, rubbing his head as various pieces of cutlery, jewelry and stuffed animals clattered down around him.
He looked up at Thor with an expression of resignation.  “Hello, brother.”
“Loki!”  Thor roared, pulling his brother to his feet and drawing him into a tight embrace.  “I knew you must not be dead.  You are always the trickster.”
Loki did not hug back but did not resist the affection either.  Just allowing it to happen.  “What are you talking about?”  He asked, dryly.
You appeared behind both the men and looked between them blinking.  “What?  How?  How are you here?”
“That is a very good question,” Loki said, pulling back from Thor.  “As is, why I can’t seem to leave.”
“Come,” you said, gesturing to both men.  “I think this is a tea conversation.”
“Yes,” Thor said, clapping Loki on the shoulder.  He hadn’t felt so light and genuinely happy for years.  He had resigned himself to be the last of Odin’s lineage and yet here was his brother, returned to him again.  “Come.  Let us celebrate!”
Loki allowed himself to be dragged down to your kitchen, where you began to potter around.  You brewed tea and coffee and tried to find some kind of sweet to be served with it.  Eventually finding a packet of slightly stale cookies behind a teapot with a mismatched lid.
“Tell us, how did you escape Thanos?  And how is it you are here?”  Thor asked as you moved around the kitchen.
Loki picked up one of the cookies and sniffed it before taking a hesitant bite.  When he appeared to deem it satisfactory he shoved the whole thing into his mouth and grabbed a handful of others.  It was very un-Loki-like and reminded Thor more of his old friend Volstagg than his much more dignified brother.  “How do you even know of Thanos?” Loki said through a mouthful of cookies.  “Besides, I don’t know what he has to do with anything.  After I escaped from Midgard with the tesseract, I used it to travel around.  I worked out a way to move through time, which was fun…”
“Wait?  What?”  Thor asked.  “When you were on Midgard with the tesseract?  The last I saw you we were in space.  And how did you get the tesseract after Thanos destroyed it?”
“You are speaking nonsense,” Loki snarked.  “Thanos never obtained the tesseract, and he certainly didn’t break it.  The Time Variance Authority confiscated it.”
You put a sandwich down in front of Loki, and Thor wasn’t sure if you’d made it or just found it like that. It was on a large crusty roll, filled with various meats and salad, and wrapped in thin white paper.   Loki picked it up and sniffed it before taking a large bite.
“Why don’t you tell us when you last saw Thor and what has happened to you since,” you said, taking a seat at the table.
Loki rolled his eyes.  “After the battle that I brought to Midgard, you shackled me and were going to let the Midgardians lock me up.  There was some kerfuffle in Stark’s building and the tesseract fell from its case.  I took it and used it to leave.  I went to some friends who removed the restraints you put on me and I was traveling around, entertaining myself.  Then the TVA took offense and locked me up, confiscating the Tesseract.  I was just breaking out to go get it when suddenly I was here and you and this lesser god were fornicating.”
Loki spat the words lesser god the same way he used the word mortal or Midgardian. Like even the words themselves were beneath him.  Thor considered addressing it, but he was more distracted by the tale Loki had just spun.  It didn’t make sense and he was having trouble getting his head around it.  “You were taken back to Asgard and locked up.  Mother was killed when there was a prison breakout,” he said.
Loki started at Thor mid-bite and slowly lowered the sandwich to the table.  “Mother was killed?”
“You know this!”  Thor roared, slamming his hands on the table.  “You were there!  Why are you saying these things?”
“I know not of what you speak, brother,” Loki said.  “When I last saw mother she was alive and well.  Certainly, I have not returned home since I fell from the Rainbow Bridge, but if she passed…”
Thor looked at you like you might have some answers to what was happening right now.  You took a sip of your tea and seemed to think.  “The time variance authority exists outside of time, correct?  I don’t know much about them, but it is generally accepted that they are not of this universe exactly?”
“That’s what they say,” Loki said in a bored voice.
“And when you were escaping, had they realized you were gone?  Were they looking for you?”  You asked.
“Yes,” Loki said.  “Which was why I was in the form of a cat.  I was moving through the vents.”
You nodded and looked at Thor.  “This is just a hypothesis, because… this isn’t how my powers work, Thor, but-” you glanced at Loki and shook your head.  “I don’t think this is your Loki.  At least… not the one you knew more recently.  After the battle there was a divergence, this Loki got away and yours did not.  And just now - I think there is power in you worshipping me, Thor.  What I am… Loki said it himself, I’m small-time.  People don’t actually worship me, they pray and they beg the universe for the return of their missing keys or cell phones.  It’s never to me directly, and it’s never very hard.  Yet here you are, one of the Norse gods, and you were on your knees for me.”
Loki scoffed and took a long drink of his tea.  Thor ignored him.  “You think you brought him here?”
“Yes,” you said.  “I can’t be sure.  I’ve never brought a person here before.  Small pets are the limit of the living creatures with free will.  But maybe if Loki was in cat form, and maybe if they were wishing for him back, while we were… doing what we were doing… it was enough to bring him here.”
“Well, I’d like to go, if it is all the same to you,” Loki said, sounding bored.
“Brother, I haven’t seen you for a long time.  I saw the life choked from you.  Surely you can stay for a little while.  We have much to catch up on,” Thor said.
“The last time I saw you, you had planned to lock me up for eternity,” Loki said.  “What has changed?”
Thor frowned and shook his head.  This was not the Loki he had worked with to save Jane and stop the dark elves, nor the Loki who had helped him escape Sakaar and stop Ragnarok.  This was the angry Loki who had attacked a city at the behest of a titan and whose pain of finding his father had lied to him about his past for over a millennium was fresh and raw.  “You are my brother.”
“And what else?”  Loki asked.
“And I have lost everyone,” Thor said.  “Mother and father are dead.  Jane left me.  Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun, Heimdall, even Stark and Rogers.  They are all gone.  Loki, Asgard is gone.”
“And that is why I find you hiding with this lesser god?”  Loki scoffed.  “Why would I want to stay in such a world anyway brother?  Where I am from, everyone is alive and well - as far as I know.”
Thor lowered his eyes.  “Why must you be so cruel?”
Loki started laughing and patted Thor’s shoulder.  “Oh brother, I’m sorry.  You are in a bad way, aren’t you?”
“It might be a moot point,” you said with a shrug.  “You’re mine now Loki.  I can return you to the ones looking for you, and perhaps you could leave with Thor because he was also looking for you, but otherwise, you are stuck with me.  That’s why you didn’t go anywhere when you tried to teleport out.  Would you like me to return you to the people of the TVA?”
“I obviously do not,” Loki deadpanned.
“Then you might as well make yourself comfortable,” you said, pouring him more tea.  “You clearly haven’t eaten properly for a long time.  Why not rest and recharge and we can work out what to do?”
“Fabulous,” Loki snarked.  “Just what I’ve always wanted - to be stuck with some hoarder deity.”
“Cheer up brother, it isn’t so bad here,” Thor said, grinning and clapping Loki on his back.  He had his brother back, even if it wasn’t quite the Loki he knew, it was still one he was familiar with.  Soon he’d have Mjolnir too.  Coming to see you had been the best decision he’d made in a long time.
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// NEXT
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iekxow · 4 years ago
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Reposted from my Wattpad
Xiao x electro yaksha reader
Requested by @yoruna_tokito (on Wattpad)
Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide, blood, and death.
Aqua water, golden leaves, and fresh air. A break from your everlasting duty to protect Liyue and its citizens. You sat upon a ledge of a mountain as you took in the beauty of Luhua Pool. The clear and unpolluted waters of Liyue were always fascinating to see, and the trees surrounding Luhua Pool never got old to watch. They aged slowly, turning from the little saplings from thousand years ago to the majestic, large trees that would forever accompany Liyue.
You had lived thousands of years, most of those going towards working under Rex Lapis, who was now known as Zhongli to the residents of Liyue Harbor. The Archon of Geo had rescued you and Alatus, better known as Xiao, from the evil god who had gotten hold of both Xiao's and your weakness, who then made the both of you commit horrible crimes that could never be repented for.
Xiao had been tasked with eating the dreams of his victims, while you had been, against your will, sucking the hopes out of those who opposed your old ruler. It wasn't at all pleasant, to say the least, but to say that the hopes of others didn't taste good would be a plain out lie. Especially back then, when both immortals and mortals who weren't being controlled by a master could freely wish to do anything they liked. You and Xiao both had that right taken away from you.
Before the control of that god, you and Alatus had lived as friends. Quite good friends, who would often visit each other every day. For some reason, Alatus had stopped talking to you after meeting the god who you grew to resent.
You were both later saved by Rex Lapis, who then offered you a job as one of the Yakshas. After serving your duties in the Archon War, three of the Yakshas turned against each other, successfully destroying each other. A fourth had disappeared. He likely caused his own end because of the unbearable pain from karmic debt. This left you and Xiao, the two surviving Yakshas.
Back at the present, you hummed a tune, which you probably heard a few hundred years back, and fiddled with your purple mask while quickly walking away from someone who had just been approaching. Adepti have no need to meddle in human affairs, you thought while giggling to yourself, sounds like something Xiao would say.
For the thousands of years you have been an Adeptus, there was not a human who was as bold and fearless as the one who had just called out to you, telling, almost demanding, you to come closer so that he could sketch you.
"Me? You do realize that my presence alone could destroy you, right?" You were just as confused as you were annoyed. Does he not understand that the Adepti already spend most of their time protecting Liyue and its people? We don't need humans intruding on the days we have to ourselves.
"Huh? I'm the famous painter, Vermeer. You must have heard of me somewhere."
A painter named Vermeer? Didn't ring much of a bell to you. "Painter? I know what a painter is, but I've never heard of any 'Vermeer's in the thousands of years I've been in Liyue."
"Ah. You're one of the th— two surviving Yakshas, am I correct? I expect that someone so old would like my paintings. Many of the elderly people of Liyue enjoy my paintings. Don't you?"
Elderly... old... just who exactly do you think the Adepti are?!? Have you no respect for the very people who protect you? You obviously didn't like to be called old. Indeed, being called old is almost always hated by people, but to you, it felt more like mocking. Something along the lines of 'Haha, you won't ever be able to age and live a normal life.'
"Look, I'll stop bothering you if you let me sketch the basic lines of you. I just need a model and you're the only person who's here right now."
You cave in, agreeing to let Vermeer draw you as long as he stopped bothering you afterward. "Fine. I'll stay for a few minutes. I don't care if you can't finish within that time. I have more important issues I have to attend to."
Vermeer held up his end of the deal, not speaking even once while working on his painting.
"Hey, are you done yet? I'll get going soon. Wrap up your sketch." You didn't exactly know why you wanted to leave, but the man was acting quite weird. He kept checking his watch and looking behind you.
"Uhhh... uuuhhhh... just a bit longer, please."
Please? What a change of attitude from before— Wait. Behind me?!? Who's behind me?
"Well, well, well. Long time no see, (Y/N). If it isn't the other Electro Yaksha. You took my rightful place as the Electro Yaksha."
"Hey, wait up. No one ever took your place. There weren't and aren't a limited amount of spots for the Yakshas. And why are you so upset about the fact that we're both wielders of electro? Above all that, where the Archons did you disappear off to?"
"You've gotten weak. I've been training all this time for this. Hahahaha! I'll finally be the Electro Yaksha!"
"Get that stupid idea of yours out of your head, dummy. I wanted to get along. Didn't you see? None of us ever thought of you of anything less than us five. Why don't you open your eyes and get that thought out of your head?!?"
He goes in for an attack. You dodge. Ten entire minutes into the fight, there still wasn't a clear victor.
"Ah. I'm done warming up. Time for the real fight. Try to keep. You'll probably lose anyways."
You silently curse. That was his definition of a warm up? Last time I checked, he wasn't half as strong as this—
"Ah!" A scream tore itself from your lips. First try, and he already landed a hit on you. Your left shin had been scraped by the long blade of the other Electro Yaksha. You immediately whipped out your weapon, (Y/W). Looks like talking won't be an option.
"Haha, like I said, little (Y/N). Those years you spent lazing around have weakened you quite a bit."
Where did he get so strong? Was he somehow trained by the Tsaritsa? By the Abyss? You tried attacking, but those attacks seem to not take any effect on him. Blood slowly but steadily seeped out of the wound on your left leg, dragging your speed down by a whole lot.
Another cut. This time, he aimed for your dominant hand, and you screamed once again, your panicking voice not at all matching the peaceful scenery of Liyue. Wait, where did that Vermeer go?
Your question was answered by a hand holding on to each of your arms. Vermeer was working with him... for what reason? You kick and trash, but your wounds weren't exactly helping, and you didn't have much energy left.
The other Electro Yaksha had a wicked grin on his face. "Hah, I defeated you before you even had the chance to use your mask."
Tears stream down your normally peaceful face. You cry, wishing that Xiao could help you.
"Don't worry, I'm here now. You can relax." Xiao's soothing voice seemed like a light in the void of darkness you had been swallowed in.
First, he took care of Vermeer. Just a few strikes, and he was unconscious. You stood for a few seconds before your left foot decided to give up on standing. Your body collapsed, and possibly because of the loss of blood. The last thing your eyes saw before blacking out was Xiao's spear colliding with his weapon. Thank you, Xiao.
Your eyes slowly blinked a few times, then opened completely. "Xiao?" You said the first thing on your mind.
A soft voice spoke from your left."That was dangerous. Don't go anywhere without me knowing, please. I can't lose you too."
"I'm sorry, Xiao. I'll train harder. I guess he was right. I got weak."
"He's wrong. You're not weak. I-if you ever wanna train, I, uh, could help you."
"Aww, is little Xiao embarrassed? Anyways, sure. Who else would I train with? You're my favorite person, and you're strong."
"I— thank you."
You threw your arms around Xiao. "I miss being like this. Why did you even stop talking to me? Is it because of the 'sins' you've committed? Have you forgotten that I've done the exact same thing as you? We've both done terrible things, but everything's going to be fine now, Xiao."
Xiao looked down, and, surprisingly, returned the gesture, wrapping his arms tightly around you. "If... if you don't mind... I..."
"Eh? What are you trying to say?"
"I would uh, kinda like to try out a thing called dating...", he finished with a tint of pink on his cheeks.
"Ehhh? Really? I almost thought you hated me."
"Uh— uhh—"
"Are you kidding me? Of course the answer's yes. I've liked you for so long, you idiot."
Xiao blinked, trying to take this new information in. "You have?"
"Yeah. But don't worry, we can take things slow. We have eternity, after all. I suppose that's one good thing about not being able to age. No matter what happens in the future, we'll protect each other. I promise you that everything will be fine, Xiao."
Hope you enjoyed it! Requests for any of the characters are open! (not counting Klee, Diona, and Qiqi, unless it’s sibling!reader)
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siriannatan · 4 years ago
Text
Beeduo Oneshots - Technoblade and Foolish interjection #1
Technoblade spends a lot of his time napping. Naps were nice. No voices, no governments, no people trying to use him. Steve and all the other bears and wolfs were enough to keep the place safe from monsters. Between his naps, he would catch up on rare news with Philza, gathered more firewood, chucked some snow at Ranboo, remove some snow from the roofs. The longest he was up was when Quackity recruited him to help with the Egg, and as much as he didn't like the guy he didn't like the Egg even more. He just regretted they couldn't save everyone the eggheads lured in with that party.
That day Techno said 'hi' to Phil who seemed a bit distracted, and in a hurry, he said something about having to check something in Manberg. He would have to ask about it later. The plan for that day was to gather some firewood, he bid Philza farewell and went out with his axe, not his combat axe he got from Ranboo... It was weird that he was suddenly moving in with Tubbo, not that it was Techno's business, he was still part of the Syndicate and the last president of Manburg seemed to be very much against governments and formal wear on anyone but Ranboo.
It wasn't all that cold that day, for a cold snowy tundra it is, anyone not used to cold would have a bad time but Techno was used to it.
Foolish wasn't having a good time. After the trip to Tubbo's mansion, he made the genius decision to visit 'Philza', he wasn't looking for Phil, he was looking for Technoblade. Everyone was afraid of him and if Foolish managed to befriend the anarchist maybe they wouldn't mess with him and his building projects... Why was everyone living in snowy tundra's can't they live in a nice warm jungle or even better, a dessert. It was far too cold.
As far as wood gathering trips go this one wasn't so bad. Just half an hour was enough to gather enough wood, no lost monsters under the trees, hiding from the sun. Some wild wolves run away as soon as they saw him approach. On the way back, in the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of the sun reflecting off of something. Turning around he saw a person? Should the sun be reflecting off of people's faces? Walking closer he poked the person with a long stick. No response. It was a person, with golden shining skin, both his piglin side and the voices were screaming in his head, conflicting, agreeing. Gold! GoLd! EEEE Help. help. Foolish... Shark-man, Blood for the blood god. EEEE GOLD help Technoblade just pushed it all to the back of his mind. With a heavy sigh, he dropped the bundle of firewood he carried, took off his cape, wrapped it around the person, threw them over his shoulder and after picking up his wood again began the march towards his a little more distant than he thought buildings, plumes of smoke from chimneys and fluffy warm Steve. He really should get over how tall Ranboo is and stop wearing high heeled shoes. At least the golden person wasn't heavy. Techno soft GOLD EMERALDS SOFT Technosoft Philza PHILZA EEEEEEE At least no one was home to mock him in person as he came back with ab unconscious person.
The last thing Foolish remembered from before he passed out was cold. What he felt now was warm, fluffy and was tickling his nose "Achoo".
"Let's hope the cause was Steve and not cold," he hears an unfamiliar voice. It wasn't hard to see who it was, the room was small and full of furniture, Chests, alchemical stands a table and two chairs. Very shabby craftsmanship, Foolish was close to screaming at how simplistic it was. By that table sat the Blade.
Long pink hair let loose reached way past his waist adorned with a golden crown decorated with gems. Narrow thin shoulders devoid of the red cape he heard about, high heeled knee-high boots. Every part of Foolish screamed that this man was dangerous. Especially the red eyes focused entirely on Foolish, he could feel them moving between his forehead and eyes. Foolish didn't want to look him in the eye, instead, he focused on the emerald earring hanging from his ear.
"Steve?" Foolish asked. He could barely feel his limbs.
"My emotional support bear," The Technoblade said, little pig ears in his hair twitched as his jaw pointer a little to Foolish's right. With barely a move of his head, Foolish noticed what was the fluffy thing keeping him warm. A fully grown polar bear, softly breathing as it slept, "he likes ear scratches, I blame Philza and Ranboo for that. I'm Technoblade, but you probably know that," the host introduced himself as Foolish slowly moved his arm to scratch the bear behind his tiny ears, discovering that Thechnoblade's famous cape was currently wrapped around him, helping him keep warm.
"Foolish G. The God of Immortality, Sky and Oceans," he introduced himself, "I've indeed heard about you, Technoblade."
"And what is a god doing in my little anarchist commune?" The blade asked suddenly getting up and moving out of Foolish's eyesight, the right of his vision was just Steve, who was indeed rather happy with behind ear scratches he was receiving.
"Looking for help?" Foolish had nothing but two of his lives to lose, he could as well say it.
"Is there an anti-god government here now?" Technoblade almost sounded amused.
"Not really, it's just... even though I'm a god I'm not good at fighting, I swore off my violent days and people are kind of taking advantage of that, messing with my hard work, with me..."
"And you thought you'd ask me to kill them for you?" that sounded rather threatening.
"Not kill, just hang out around from time to time to spook them? Like if they think we're friends they might leave me alone?" This conversation was going bad way "I can... build something for you? I'm good at building. You saw Tubbo and Ranboo's mansion? I build it. If you need like... a separate house for Steve? Orafakemarriagetoavoidtaxes?" the last part was said very quickly and not necessarily was meant to say.
"Haeh?" Technoblade looked shocked, for the first time since he woke up Foolish saw him lose confidence. For a split second, he wasn't that threatening.
Once the confusion passed Technoblade laughed, loudly, and for a while. Steve gave his master (?was he ever tamed or did he enjoy the warmth and free food?) a puzzled look.
"That beats everything anyone ever used to get me to help them, I haven't laughed that much in a while. A marriage for taxes? There are no taxes here and I pity anyone who would try to tax me o my friends." That was it Foolish was going to lose his second life while trying to protect himself. "Achoo," suddenly the Blade sneezed. "Sorry, so why now? You've been here for a while."
"Ponk moved into my dessert, build a big red eyesore and put a cursed pumpkin on my head. At first, I was planning to take Sam out for a date but apparently, he isn't safe, at least that's what Tubbo said when I went for advice to him."
Techno laughed a bit more. "Why Tubbo? I never heard of him having any dating experiences."
"He and Ranboo are married aren't they?" Foolish asked still petting Steve. Techno's confused face was enough to answer "You had no idea?! It makes sense why they would... with Tubbo being a former president... I messed up. Please don't tell them I told you, knowing Tubbo he'll want another mansion, I can't do it, I hate chandeliers because of the last one I build him!"
"I won't tell them." Techno seemed to be confused at this reaction "I had my suspicions anyway, they spend too much time together for me to not be suspicious. What is your stand on governments?" the pink-haired warrior asked standing up and again disappearing behind Steve.
"Don't like them," Foolish said with a sigh of relief. "I destroyed a few back in my God of Death days..." he smiled fondly at old memories. No one would dare to put a pumpkin on him back then.
"Why did you stop fighting?" Techno asked giving Foolish a mug of tea. "I'm out of sugar, sorry. I would ask Phil for some but he went out and Ranboo is with his husband. Don't feel like going through their stuff."
"There is a limit to how much bloodshed one can handle, how many friends you can die because of your action, how many towns you can raise to the ground," he muttered looking at the dark liquid, it was warm, warm was nice, "I wonder, what is the Blood God's limit?"
"What is any other man's limit?" Techno said, "I know people call me that, I don't mind, it keeps some away  on its own, but in the end, I'm just a man, I may not age but I can still be killed."
To say Foolish was shocked would be an understatement. He took nearly on everyone Dream brought to his realm, almost alone not counting an army of Dogs and Philza. He fought them amongst a rain of TNT and Wither's. That was beyond anything any mortal was supposed to be able to do. "I think there is a God who very much enjoys your actions," he said sipping the tea, it was bitter but warm. Steve was snoring again.
"You were there at the Red Ball of whatever?" Technoblade asked ignoring what he had said.
"Yes, I...."
"I'm sorry we couldn't stop them earlier," that was surprising. hearing the most feared person apologise...
"It's okay. I'm not a fan of dying but it's okay, everyone else survived and that's all that matters, the Egg cult is scattered to the four winds, some have left it even. In the end, I'd call the day a win."
"I see..."
For a while, they sat in silence, crackling of fire and Steve's snoring being the only noises in the room until Technoblade sneezed again.
"Do you want your cape back?" Foolish asked, "Steve's plenty warm."
Techno just nodded as he was passed the garment. "I take it you don't like cold."
"Not really, I prefer my summer home, it's in the desert, it's warm there."
"I see... do people often miss with your building projects?"
"Not recently, I don't think many people know where I live and I like it that way. Nice builds don't last long in these lands. But I'm glad I'm here. I made some new friends meet some old friends. It's not all bad here."
Techno just nodded, He looked a bit more like a fearsome warrior now that he had his cape on. "So you need help keeping it that way?"
"And maybe keeping people from requesting outlandish stuff, if possible." Now that the main subject was back the atmosphere turned awkward again.
"So I'll just need to hang out around you sometimes, glare at people if they bother you and be an 'I'm sorry I have a plan with Techno' excuse?"
"Yes?" Foolish muttered into his mug.
"Any relations I need to be aware of? Friends, enemies, family members?" Techno asked.
"Puffy is kind of my father, Eret I used to know a long time ago, we once faked a marriage, destroyed some cults together, doesn't seem to remember me, Tubbo... we're kind of cousins and Ranboo is his husband... most other people I'm rather neutral towards, don't like eggheads... Sam creeps me out lately... Tubbo said he cut off Ponk's arm, don't know if it's true. Dream... Dream is in prison so I guess we won't have to worry about him. Dream XD tends to avoid me." Foolish never really thought about his connections to people on the server. "I'd rather we not cause much bodily harm unless necessary."
Technoblade just nodded, voices were rather quiet ever since Mr God of Immortality Sea and Sky woke up, it was like they were coming to him through a lot of water, and they were much less intensive. That was a nice change. "Okay, so I help you and you build my dogs and bears a nicer kennel? I don't mind what Phil build but the herd outgrew it rather quickly. I hope we don't have to be too showy about it." he finally said.
"I hope you're not agreeing because of what happened at the Ball," Foolish looked at him rather seriously, at least as much as someone buried in blankets, leaning on and petting a bear could be.
"I'm doing it so Quackity stops flirting with me, and to gave bragging rights over Dream," Techno said mate factly, "Look at me chat, I have a Husband and the Teletubby is in prison..." Techno forced a joke out "a warning, I owe Dream a favour. That and voices are quieter near you, is it some part of you being a God?"
Foolish blinked, he didn't know many people with voices like Technoblade's. "I don't think so, I can bring down lightning, enrage the sea, cause sandstorms, nothing to do with voices."
"Hmm, it's getting dark." Technoblade noticed, "want to stay here or should I walk you back to your dessert?"
"I can stay here with Steve and start on that new kennel tomorrow," Foolish shrugged, he wasn't ready for another trek through the snow, "We can go to Eret when coming back to do Ranboo and Tubbo and sign wedding papers."
"Okay, I'll try to figure out somewhere to sleep for you," Techno said with a bit of a laugh at the last part, "and you better tell me about those governments and cults and cities you wrecked."
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sagasofazeria · 3 years ago
Text
Broken Chains
Song of the Seven Suns, Part 6
Summary: Dawn arrives, and the companions head to battle against remnants of the group called the Mortal Chains, led by a woman named Dymea. A reckoning is had.
Taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @hellishhin @talesfromaurea @thelaughingstag
content warnings: heavy discussion of slavery, violence and murder, injury, blood and minor gore, death, discussion of death, discussion of trauma/childhood trauma, swearing and strong language
word count: ~3900
Awake before even the sun, the five companions had already set out to confront their enemy, eyes and blades sharp as they crept through the inky night.
The shadows were long and grasping, even as the storm flashed on above. The group moved swiftly and silently through the darkness, all holding their breath for fear it would be their last.
Fuego hated it. He despised the dark, the unseen. He’d never liked the shadows and fog of his home, and he didn’t like this either. He only kept his flames snuffed because the others had insisted it’d give them away. Even though he hated the dark, he knew how to use it to his advantage, and he didn’t want to sabotage his first quest with his new friends.
So, onward they went, pushing forward through the creeping brush and craggy hills, as the slick rocks and leaves flashed with the reflections of lightning above.
Hours passed as they continued forward. Faulkron was leading the group, his faintly glowing elven eyes piercing through the dark.
As the morning wore on, the sun’s light began to begin its crawl across the sky behind the blanket of clouds that still bore down on them. The black of night became the faint notion of blue that lie beyond the curtain, gray clouds filtering what light shone behind them into a dim gloom, rain still falling through the leaves of the trees as the sky shifted.
It was in the faint illumination of the first steps of morning that the five adventurers saw the first signs of their quarry.
Faulkron noticed them first, the ever-so-slight disturbances in the silent stillness of the woods. Moments later, Shakari’s keen senses picked up a faint stench hidden beneath the clean smell of rain. They shared a quick glance, and the group quickly altered course, following the well-hidden trail.
Fuego couldn’t help but smile to hiself. He could tell he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t be any more ready for the coming fight. He saw Shakari’s eyes glinting in same way his mother’s would. Though, Shakari’s eyes were admittedly far larger, and probably scarier. Well, scarier to people who didn’t know his mother.
Shakari looked like a hunter, a proud and vicious one, and Fuego couldn’t be happier to be hunting alongside them.
•••
As Shakari pushed through the brush, clambering over the rocks and small borders that blocked their path, she never lost the scent. They hadn’t told the rest of the group what scent they’d picked up, only that they had one.
On the surface, it was the smell of blood.
Dirt.
Steel.
But beneath that, beneath the layers of rain and storm that hid the scent, beyond even the limits of her smell, something else lurked. Something Shakari could see only by extending their mind to the flows of energy around them, the movement of spirits and magic that pervaded everything, if you looked close enough.
It was there that they could smell pain.
Fear.
Despair.
Cruelty.
A poison sat on the air, one not even the rain could wash away.
And that was what Shakari was hunting. She knew the source of that poison, and on her ancestors she knew she would cure it. Today she was certain the sun would rise on one more step toward redemption.
Tail lashing with purpose, Shakari led the group forward alongside Faulkron, and in time the stench grew and grew. Before long, they found themelves in a small valley thick with trees, a grove of trees hiding them from any nearby eyes. She could smell the poison now, stronger than ever.
“We are getting close,” she whispered, holding up a claw to halt the group.
Fuego’s face pushed out of the leaves above, mouth cocked in an almost sinister grin. “Good.”
“How close, exactly?” asked Faulkron, turning to Shakari and reaching back for his sword.
“Close enough that you might need that, if that’s what you’re asking,” Shakari said, peeking through the still-wet leaves and brush for signs of a camp.
Faulkron gave a nod, pulling the sword from its sheath and steadying his grip, eyes focusing as he began to search as well.
“I don’t see anything, too many trees,” he whispered. “Fuego, can you get up any higher?”
“Naturally.”
With that, Fuego ran off into the trees, light halfling feet carrying him into the foliage without a trace.
The four of them waited for a while, and Shakari could see Alejandro and Jetra beginning to get nervous. Jetra was tapping a haphazard rhythm on a nearby stone, and Alejandro was twisting his hand around the hilt of one of his blades, palms sweaty as he went.
“What is taking him so long?” Alejandro finally snapped, voice at a tense whisper. “He should be here by now. What if he’s been injured, or taken, or—“
“Aww! Alejandro, you were worried about me?” Fuego’s voice suddenly called from the shadows as he walked out of the bushes, knocking a bit of ash off of his hands and beaming.
In a second, Alejandro had his blade halfway drawn. When he saw Fuego, he let it go with a sigh. “Fuego, you need to stop startling me.”
“You’re ignoring the question.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Isn’t it?”
Alejandro sighed. “Yes, I was worried for you. Now tell us what you saw.”
Fuego nodded and shrugged. “I’ll accept it for now. Anyway, I saw the camp. Pretty well defended, actually. I had to take out one scout on the way, but they never saw it coming, so we’re all clear. I can get us there.”
Alejandro held up a hand as they all began to move. “Wait, wait. What even is our plan here? We’ve got a location, what do we do from there?”
“Don’t worry, I think I’ve got something,” Fuego said, looking around for a second before snapping a branch off of a nearby tree with a mumbled apology.
He gestured for them all to kneel around him, and began to draw in the mud. “All right, here’s the plan...”
•••
It was working so far. Jetra hadn’t expected this from Fuego, but a fortress made of wood was kind of a pyro’s playground.
Not to mention, she wasn’t sure she could have come up with a decent plan at the moment. As much as she tried to look like she was sensible and collected, she had to admit she was completely making stuff up in the moment half the time. And that wasn’t when she was crouching behind a rock, staring at the place where her father’s killer was actively kidnapping people and selling them into slavery.
She tightened her grip on her sword, and clutched the amulet around her neck. The symbol of the blue moon was cold in her hand, but it held a comfort she appreciated well. Just a symbol, she knew, but it gave her hope, and gods knew she needed a bit of hope right now.
I can’t fuck this up, she thought to herself, visions of her father’s body being lowered into the ground filling her mind. I can’t.
She looked into the camp again, peeking around the boulder. Even through the soft rain and dim light he could see the faint silhouettes of cages, and she was filled with rage.
Then I won’t.
And that’s when the smell of smoke filled the air.
Jetra watched the pile of brush, scouts’ corpses, and wet leaves they’d carefully gathered against the camp’s edge outer wall go up in bright amber flame, black smoke curling upwards to mingle with the clouds despite the rain. Jetra muttered a brief thanks to the gods that magical fire burned far better than the average flame before leaping over the boulder and charging forward, sword held aloft. Across from her Faulkron and Alejandro did the same.
The smoke and the pile of tinder behind her blew forward into the camp with a sudden gust as the Shakari’s roar sounded through the camp, the groggy slavers caught off guard by the sudden onslaught and confusion in the smoke and flame, the buildings beginning to glow with fire in seconds. Jetra tightened the scarf around her nose and mouth, gritting her teeth as the sudden gust blew her hair forward.
The first group of bandits never even saw them coming. Through the smoke and haze, Faulkron moved like a shade, hacking one of them down with ease.
The next slaver barely had time to draw a weapon before taking Alejandro’s blades through his throat and chest.
Jetra charged forward still, kicking the embers of their campfire forward and setting another slaver alight. She cursed in alarm, throwing off her burning cloak and drawing a sword.
Shouts and cries went up around the camp, as more slavers were woken from their sleep to try fight off the attackers and the fire.
Smoke still covered the camp, and there was coughing among the unprepared bandits as they began to draw their weapons.
The badnit Jetra had tried to burn lunged forward with her sword, slicing across her right arm.
Jetra hissed, feeling warmth trickling down her arm and beginning to soak her clothes.
“You’re not who I’m here for, asshole,” she growled, swinging her own sword forward into the slaver’s side, cutting through the leather and sinking the blade into flesh.
The woman only grunted and raised her sword in response, but was cut off by a hissing as a familiar red-hot scimitar pushed out through her chest and she collapsed into the mud with a gurgle.
Jetra nodded to Fuego in thanks, and kept running further forward, trudging uphill as fast as she could. Chaos surrounded her, and she could see the wooden fortifications and buildings catching fire rapidly. There were shouts all around as the slavers began to rally.
As she ran, she saw Alejandro facing a group of slavers with a snarl on his face, all of them standing in front of cages of terrified people. His rain-soaked blades flashed in the firelight, and he charged them, Faulkron right beside him.
Fuego was dancing through the smoke, laughing as he went, burning blade held aloft and cutting through yet another confused enemy.
Shakari’s mouth was glowing with power, and a whole group of slavers and buildings was blasted apart as she roared again.
And Jetra ran forward, her mind was on one thing, and one thing only.
Just before she crested the hill, where the center of the fortress was, a group of slavers leaped from the haze, blades slashing.
Jetra cried out as her leg was slashed open and a dagger was sunk into her shoulder before she brought her sword up to block the remaining swings.
Pain pulsing through her, and she screamed, her voice booming outward as the vibrations shook the ground, sending the slavers in front of her careening backwards, most of them unmoving.
She kept running.
•••
Faulkron’s blade clanged against the slaver’s, but he pushed forward with all his might, sending them stumbling back. As they stumbled, he swung in an arc and separating their helmed head from their shoulders.
He saw Jetra run forward and disappear into the smoke, but had no time to react before he felt a knife across his back, turning to the next bandit.
He swung once, but the rain was still coming down, and even his eyes found it hard to see. His blade crashed off of theirs, and he felt another slash across his side.
Most of the camp was on fire, and it seemed every slaver had rushed out of their tents to fight them.
That much more of a challenge, he thought, and grinned.
The bandit in front of him faltered a moment, coughing in the smoke, and Faulkron took the chance to thrust his sword forward into their gut, throwing them to the side with a heave.
That was when he heard Alejandro scream. Faulkron whipped his head around, and as the smoke briefly parted he saw him.
Torso shiny with crimson blood from numerous slashes and cuts, at least 4 slavers lay dead around him, but a larger warrior had shoved their spear through his shoulder, and he’d dropped one of his blades into the mud.
Faulkron didn’t know what overtook him, but he charged across the burning battlefield, rain pelting his armor, shoulder lowered. He rammed his shoulder square into the slaver’s chest, sending them both tumbling to the ground. He quickly got to his feet in the mud, but was cracked across the face by the spiked butt of the spear, and he felt hot blood dripping down his cheek and chin.
He quickly wiped it away, swinging heavily with his blade, trying to protect Alejandro. The blow glanced off of the slaver’s armor, and they stabbed the spear towards Faulkron.
He managed to block the blow with his blade, and cut once across the slaver’s gut, tearing through the leather armor. Just as the bandit could attack again, however, Alejandro quickly came up from behind, one arm bloody as he sank his blades between the slaver’s ribs, and the large man gurgled in pain, blood trickling down his chin.
Faulkron took his chance, shoving his own blade through the man’s chest as Alejandro stepped away.
As the man fell over, so did Alejandro, collapsing to one knee. Faulkron kneeled next to him, clasping his good arm in hand.
“Come on Alejandro, get back up, fight’s not done yet.”
Alejandro grimaced and took a deep breath, and clasped his arm as well.
“Of course. Somebody needs to protect you,” he grunted, a grim smile on his face.
Faulkron stood again, lifting Alejandro up.
The fires were dying down as the rain kept falling, but the haze was still heavy in the air, although most of the bandits had been slain.
Fuego ran up to them, sporting a large slash of his own across his chest and breathing heavy.
“Hurry, we have to find Dymea, she can’t be let escape,” Alejandro said with a cough.
“This way!” Shakari called from father up the hill, through the smoldering buildings.
As they ran uphill, they heard another scream, Jetra this time.
But it wasn’t one of pain.
•••
“DYMEA! Where are you, you cowardly piece of shit? Come fucking fight me!” Jetra screamed, channeling all her rage and pain into her words, cursing the name she spoke, hoping Dymea was near enough that the magic would take hold.
The smoke was billowing all around, and her knuckles were white as she gripped her sword, waiting for the knife from the shadows.
All she heard in response was a sick laugh, a laugh full of poison and malice.
“And who are you supposed to be, exactly?”
She turned to see an armored and hooded figure emerge from the clearing smoke, grinning with a cold and calculated hate, the dim firelight and predawn sky leaving most of her face shrouded in shadow.
“I’m the daughter of Marakos, and you fucking killed him. Stabbed him in the back. He never had a chance... I’ve come to return the favor, or die trying,” Jetra growled, turning to face her.
Dymea laughed again. “Of course you are. I see you’ve also decided to burn down my slave operation, which will be a problem for me after I defeat you. It’s very annoying, but makes you that much more interesting. I wonder, did the vengeful daughter also join father’s secret society for the idiotically righteous?” Dymea said, looking over Jetra with a smirk. “Oh, but of course she did...” she trailed off, smiling and casually twirling a dagger as she slowly stalked around her.
Jetra furrowed her brow. She hadn’t expected a conversation, and her mind was already clouded with anger. She felt herself faltering, mind paralyzed as she found herself off guard. She shook her head and took in a breath, clearing her head. “Enough! What are you even getting at? Fight me already!”
“Oh, I would, but it’s much more gratifying to do this first. So I can tap into your fears, know what goes on in your mind. After all, I’m going to need to know how to control you. What’s more... you don’t want to tell a boring story, do you, bard?”
Jetra froze mid-retort. How did she know? Had she overestimated herself? I won’t, I won’t, I won’t fail, I won’t fail, her own words echoed through her mind, but now they sounded more like doubts than promises. “What are you talking about? How do you know-”
“Please, I already knew you, long before you showed up here. I remember killing your father. It was a big achievement for me, really. Another reckless idiot with a sword and a bunch of lies to fuel his morals dies by my hand. You’re just the same, clear as day. But you? I’m not going to give you ‘die trying’. No... you’ll be my final trophy from killing your father.”
Jetra’s eye’s widened and she growled. “That’s not gonna happen. No game you try to play will save you. You will die today,” she snarled, weaving years of hatred into her words as she spit magic at the woman before her.
She watched as Dymea hissed and grabbed her head, a slight trickle of blood coming from her ears. 
Jetra grinned. “Don’t like that?”
“Oh, so she’s tricky,” Dymea muttered, wiping blood from her face. “Don’t worry, I have some tricks of my own.”
She flicked her wrist forward, and a long dagger sailed toward Jetra with almost inhuman speed. She raised her blade on instinct, knocking it away, only to have a second dagger sink into her thigh. She cried out in pain, and when she looked back up, Dymea was gone.
She called out to the shadows and smoke through gritted teeth. “Fucking cowardly—”
She was cut off when another dagger flew from the smoke, sprouting from her gut with a sickening thud as she cursed.
She tried to set her feet again, looking for any sign of the woman, but she couldn’t see her. Her wounds were burning with pain, and she stumbled again, grimacing.
She took a shaky breath and grabbed her necklace, closing her eyes and looking up to the rainy sky, tears and rain mingling on her face.
“I... I refuse to fail,” she whispered, letting the hope she found in the symbol grow and blossom in her chest.
As her magic faded, she felt her confidence and strength returned.
She opened her eyes saw her companions sprinting up the hill toward her just as Dymea lunged again from the smoke, knives extended towards her.
Before she reached her, however, there was a flash of blue, and Shakari leaped in front of Jetra, one extended hand sending lightning coursing forward into Dymea.
Dymea stumbled to a stop, gritting her teeth as the electricity coursed across her body from Shakari’s outstretched claws before drawing back to them, jumping across their scales as they bared their teeth.
Then, stepping out of a door of embers and smoke, Fuego appeared behind her in a blast of magic. He leaped onto her back, sword piercing her shoulder as she growled and stumbled forward.
“Funny how the tables turn, huh?” Jetra laughed, standing upright again.
Dymea snarled, grabbing Fuego by the neck and throwing him forward into the mud with a wet thud, his sword flinging off into the smoke.
Fuego coughed and tried to roll away, wind knocked from his lungs, but Dymea grabbed his hair and yanked him upward. She smiled at Jetra, dagger flashing in the fading firelight before she stabbed him in the back with a growl, and he coughed blood.
“You’re right. It is funny,” Dymea snarled, before kicking the dagger, sending Fuego sprawling into the mud as he screamed.
Jetra felt her heart sink, and her breath caught. She gripped the sword tighter as they converged on Dymea. Jetra was not going to let her kill Fuego, or any of the others, not when they were so close.
Dymea drew a shortsword and started to step back, but she was quickly interrupted by Faulkron, who knocked the blade aside before bringing the end of his sword across her face with a yell, drawing a line of blood across her cheek even as she leaped away.
Alejandro, adrenaline fueling him through the pain in his arm, pushed forward and stabbed her once through the shoulder as she tried to dodge away, then slammed his knee into her back as she stumbled forward, cursing. She tried to recover, only to be slammed backwards by a boom of thunder, as Shakari split the air with a bolt of lightning.
“And you call me a coward. How many people did you con into helping you kill me, exactly?” Dymea chuckled, spitting out blood.
She stood again, brandishing her last two knives. She looked around at them all, but they had her surrounded. She looked at them all in the eyes, then laughed. “Don’t you know? I don’t fear death. None of us do. Our chains—“
She was interrupted again as Faulkron lunged forward in a sudden explosion of movement. She lashed out, sinking one blade into his arm before Faulkron stabbed his own blade into the earth in front of her, one hand holding it steady.
She looked at him in confusion for a moment, and he only stared back. Then, he grabbed her by the back of the head with one hand and slammed her face into the metal hilt of his blade. Faulkron grabbed Dymea around the throat while she was stunned, crushing inward as she struggled to breathe, unable to escape his grip no matter how much she struggled and tried to move away. Alejandro ran up next to him, grabbing her arms to further restrain her, even as he growled in pain from his wound.
Fuego was still lying in the mud, struggling to push himself up and coughing blood.
“Keep her there!” Jetra yelled, before running over to him, hefting him up from the ground and placing one hand on his chest.
“Get up, damn it. Your story isn’t over yet,” she grunted, letting the healing magic flow into him and close his wounds. She watched as the dagger was forcibly pushed out of his back in a flash of light.
“Thanks... let’s kill this lady?” he panted as he stood and steadied himself on her hip.
Jetra turned back to Dymea with a glare. “With pleasure.”
Jetra strode up to the still-struggling slaver, grip tight on her sword.
“You wanna know why they’re here? They’re all here because you’re a sick fuck who sells people into slavery, and you’ve got a trip to the Nine Hells we don’t want you to miss,” Jetra growled, filling her words with malice again and grinning as Dymea hissed and struggled, more blood leaking from her ears.
She tried to respond, but Shakari clenched her fist, and the lightning coursing around her flashed, spearing into Dymea and causing her to convulse again and fall to her knees, still held by Alejandro and Faulkron.
Fuego held up a roiling flame in one hand, but Jetra put out her arm.
“Don’t. I want to do this.”
She stepped forward and put her sword beneath Dymea’s chin, staring her dead in the eyes. “This is for my father, and all of the people you’ve made suffer.”
Dymea’s final act was to choke out a smile.
“Good. It means I won.”
At that, Jetra shoved the blade upward.
Part 5 | Part 7
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hitbythunder · 4 years ago
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Among the Gods of Asgard -6
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A dark!Thor x Reader, minor Loki x Reader story with all the drama and angst you’re craving. Including Alexander Skarsgard as Balder. –> Read also on AO3
Summary: The gods are being loved and feared in equal parts by their subjects, more the latter by the thousands of slaves working for them. Ten feet tall, powerful and immortal are the rulers of all beings within the Nine Realms. You, the daughter of an Asgardian merchant, fancy the three handsome princes of Odin - like any woman does - and dream of actually meeting them instead of watching them at public events. That is until, as a consequence of Loki’s tricks, you are being forced into slavery at the royal court. Amidst this harsh new reality, you catch the attention of the god of Thunder who then seeks to make you his alone. You are nothing but a toy, a puppet, in the god’s eyes and he will use you as he pleases.
Do not hope for mercy.
**** WARNING: dark story, manipulative Thor, heavy rape/non-con elements, no happy ending in sight
____________________________xXx____________________________
"...And that is why the Lady Sif and I are not on good terms. Though the black hair suits her much better in my view!" the raven-haired god mused as he leaned back in his comfortable chair, the black queen being caught and turned in his slender pale fingers. A soft chuckle filled the air, its origin hidden behind the too large high back of the chair on the opposite of the chess field. "Could you turn it blonde again if the lady so demanded?" The lovely voice asked as Loki put the queen onto the field again, gently but determinedly as to win, before he looked up at the mortal girl snuggling up against the plush bolstering. "Back then, no, but I have learned a few more tricks over the past centuries!" the Trickster's eyes glinted mischievously but the girl held his gaze. She wasn't afraid of him, not like so many others, not like she should be. In fact, during the past two weeks she had become something far closer than a simple maid and Loki wondered how that had happened. Not that he would admit his growing fondness but he wasn't oblivious either.
At first, they met in the library a few times but soon their chess battles became a delightful daily routine for the both of them. The mortal proved to be a worthy opponent who could challenge the god anew every day - at least as long as Balder was away. Engulfed by the thrill of the game, both maid and master would stare for hours at the black and white chess field and choose their next move wisely. According to some research, it had been Harald Leifson who had discovered this joyous game on Midgard and his daughter had been the first one to learn its rules. Since then she had had a lot of practice and her skills were close to the Trickster's. Many times she almost beat the god - more often than he was willing to acknowledge – but she had enough wits not to boast with it. Loosing didn't go well with Loki's temper.
Instead the mortal remained polite and calm whenever the god relished in another triumphant victory because even that was better than having to (actually) work. At the beginning, the girl had been terribly nervous and her focus lay solely on the game itself, her gaze would rarely wander beyond the chess field. Also the god was quite reserved because usually he wouldn't seek the company of mortals, let alone spend his free-time with them. But as the hours of playing turned into days, the invisible ice-wall between them melted away and both couldn't remain silent for much longer. After some verbal incrementalism they began to chat rather vividly about various topics and Loki found himself sharing some anecdotes of past centuries. In turn, he learned some details of the mortal's background - but mainly he did the talking.
    xxx
Word spread, however, and once certain ears were reached, Loki and _________ had to move to his quarters. The library wasn't an appropriate place to display such unconventional manners - the queen had remarked once in private and, as a good son, Loki obliged. Actually, Frigga didn't mind at all that her youngest was socializing with a mortal slave - not the kind of friend she had hoped for but better than none - however many other gods, including the king, would be offended if this sessions were to continue. Thus the queen saw to it that no such unconventional behavior was to be seen outside of the prince's chambers. She didn't guarantee for what happened inside though.
The salon of the prince's chambers was better for playing anyways: no prying eyes and unwanted attention from other gods or slaves. Their envious gazes had felt like daggers piercing into _________'s flesh, thus she was thankful for the change of setting. In fact, she regarded the whole affair as a privilege. Although she felt rather out of place at first between all the gold, ebony and priceless luxuries decorating the room, the maid became rather comfortable being there - and around Loki too. He wasn't the most affable person but somehow he warmed up to her, treated her friendly and seemed to value her for her chess skills. After all the god himself chose to spend every afternoon with her, a maid.
Don't be smug about it! You're just a substitution while his brothers are away! _______ told herself many times so that the disappointment wouldn't be too great once Loki chose to drop her again. Which he surely would one day. Gods only use mortals for their benefit, remember?
So for now, the girl enjoyed the inexplicable honor she was granted. Maybe Loki's large wolf-dog Fenrir was to thank for this strange change in his spirits, because the beast who resided within the prince's chambers had immediately taken a liking into the girl. Upon entering, the cow-sized anthracite dog had suspiciously approached from the adjacent bedroom and had sniffed at the little mortal, who had been stiff as a column that very moment. Seconds later Fenrir had licked at her slender hand to show his trust and appreciation of the new visitor, much to his master's surprise.
Fenrir usually hates unfamiliar faces, he barely behaves around Thor or Balder...Loki had thought suspiciously, not recognizing his own pet.
xxx
Then came the fever. In the middle of the night, the prince was stricken in such a violent fashion that he wasn't able to call for help. Only Fenrir noted his master's indisposition, pressing a moist snout against the god's palm for comfort, and in his delirium Loki had managed to send one simple order to his beloved pet: Get help!
The magical creature and the god had spent so much time together that they literally shared thoughts - a quite useful fact that night – and so the dog dashed away to fulfill meet the order.
However, Fenrir didn't provide the kind of aid the prince had expected. Not Frigga, nor Eir the healer but a maid rode on the beast's back as it returned - as if the wolf knew what the god secretly needed right now. ________ tended to Loki as best as she could, with cataplasms and much kindness to ease the prince's illness. But there were clear limits as the fever wouldn't vanish. When she intended to leave in order to get a healer, Loki asked her, no begged her, not to leave him alone. In the dim-lit bedroom, she couldn't see the puppy eyes he shot at her, however the tight, beseeching grasp he had on her arm gave it all away. How could she have refused?
So she sat down at his side and watched over the god while the fever raged within him, occasionally holding his hand for comfort. _________ did so two other nights too.
xxx
During the day, Loki chose to avoid even brushing the topic and instead directed the conversation towards trivial matters, for example gossip, which he normally wouldn't discuss. Luckily, _______ played along and so neither of them spoke about those hours of disgusting misery, a terrible (shameful) state the prince would never show to anyone, not even to his brothers whom he shared most of his secrets with. Yet ________ had seen it all, the weak sickly side of the glorious god as he lay there bathed in his own sweat, the wet nightwear clinging to his lean pale flesh. A mess of all sorts, just like his mind due to the delirium during which he hadn't been able to formulate a whole consistent sentence.
How pathetic, how human...The god felt deeply abashed as he recalled it, yet then the train of his thoughts also carried him to a much sweeter memory: of a maid's soft small hands tenderly enclasping his; the comfort from sensing her presence on the mattress; her lovely scent flooding his nose whenever she leaned over closely to replace the cataplasm on his forehead. A strange warmth pooled inside the god which began to surface on his cheeks the longer he beheld the mortal across the chess field. “It's your turn, your highness!” The piece of ebony between his fingers had completely slipped his mind apparently. Then he noted how transfixed, almost mesmerized he was staring at her. Suddenly snapping out of trance Loki cleared his voice and quickly averted his gaze, suppressing the shade of pink on his high cheekbones.
“... Oh, oh yes... I just happened to be distracted by a spell...anyways...” Loki declared somewhat clumsily and put the bishop on a random position on the field.
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yodawgiherd · 4 years ago
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Interlude
>>>Read on AO3<<<
As promised, this is a rather spicy chapter (you asked for it) I was hammering out for a bit over two weeks - thus the length. I just kept adding more and more random thoughts and end up like this... oh well. Hope you'll like it :)
Worry, that was the foremost thing on Mikasa’s mind lately. Partly about the tournament, but mostly about Armin, who now knew all about Annie and that he will most likely be seeing her again shortly. She almost bit her bottom lip bloody from it, and Eren was no better. To keep tabs on their friend, they commissioned Jean to stay around Armin, and let them know if anything goes wrong. For once, Jean didn’t complain, as he also wanted to get to know Armin better - it was a win-win situation really. From his reports, the blond was taking the news quite well, and, in other news, was putting finishing touches on his book. But this didn’t stop the engaged couple from agonizing about it.
They both had their way of coping. Eren once again entered turbo mode at the hospital, burying himself in work, while Mikasa upped her training load to inhuman levels. At home, Eren spent an unholy amount of time in the kitchen, experimenting with pretty much everything, while Mikasa cleaned the whole house over and over, anything to keep busy. She wasn’t as much of a clean freak as her brother, but try growing up with Levi and not being affected. Try it.
At first, Levi approved of her newfound zeal in the gym, but when she kept ignoring her limits and pushing past what her body could handle, the tight smile he had turned into a frown. From his office, he could see Mikasa working out at the bench press, the barbell going up and down at an unsteady rate. Her arms were shaky, a sight incredibly rare as Mikasa’s gym knowledge ran deep and she never did anything risky. Unless she was tired to the bone and overworking herself. Levi had to do something, otherwise she would end up hurting. Yet a classic “Go Home” would probably not work on Mikasa, as she was exactly as stubborn as Levi was. Time for action then, he thought to himself, getting up from the office chair.
Mikasa didn’t even catch the gloves he threw at her, driving the point of her being tired home. With the reflexes she had, she could pretty much snatch flies out of the air, but now they were dulled beyond recognition. Picking up the gloves, she looked at Levi who jerked his head towards the ring in a clear challenge.
They spared, and Mikasa was her usual perfect self at first, too fast and too strong for normal mortals to handle. She backed Levi into a corner, not giving him time to breathe. But then, out of nowhere, she faltered, her body finally saying fuck it and taking a micro-break. He immediately took advantage, as any fighter would, should this happen in the tournament, and flipped her over, planting Mikasa on her back. She blinked up at him, confused.
“W-What happened?”, she stammered.
“You lost.”, he replied, voice cold, “Because you keep overworking yourself. Take a break.”
“But I…”
“No buts. I’m still your trainer, so listen to me for once.”
She sighed, getting up from the ground. Even that simple motion was exhausting, and now that Levi mentioned it, Mikasa could feel the burn in all her muscles. He was, as usual, exactly right.
Even getting home was a pain, her body protesting anytime she forced it to move, even when the motion was as small as revving her motorbike up. Grateful for the speed the machine could do, Mikasa got back to her and Eren’s house at a nigh record time. A shower later, she plopped herself on the sofa, staring mindlessly at the Tv, waiting for that certain someone to come home. When he did, she was already in that half-dreaming half-awake state, but when Eren sat down it roused her.
“Hard day?”, he asked, getting a groan as an answer.
“You wanna head to bed?”
Instead of answering, Mikasa pulled herself on top of that heater Eren called his body, yawning after.
“Nah, I’m good here.”, she murmured, face half-squished in his shirt.
He chuckled at that.
“Suit yourself. I have a free weekend ahead of me, so I’m ready to be your bodypillow.”
Eren had free time. She had free time, Levi would most likely bite her head off if she showed up at the gym tomorrow. Hmmm…… They could… They could…
The train of thought derailed when Mikasa fell asleep, a soft snore escaping her lips. She was deep under, not even stirring when Eren carried her up to the bedroom, sleeping soundly the whole night. Levi would be happy.
It was the morning sun that woke her, but when Mikasa rolled away from the heater she was spooning she realized that there wasn’t a single thing she wanted to do. For once, the tireless war machine that is her body was feeling lazy. Eren stirred next to her, most likely reacting to the loss of her touch. The way her breasts squished against his back always brought the sweetest dreams. Sitting up and turning to look at her, Eren let the absolute bliss of waking up next to an angel show on his face.
“Morning beautiful. Slept well?”
“I did, but I kind of… want to sleep more?”
“You want to laze around? Damn.”
“Yea, I do.”, a small devilish smile formed on her lips, “If I remember correctly I’m taking inspiration from the guy I dated in college. Remind me, what did he say he wanted to do on our second date? A nap?”
Eren groaned, hiding his face.
“Please don’t remind me, I was so cringe back then.”
“And you think I was better? The first thing that I said when u leaned on my legs was that I could choke you out, kill you.”
“That WAS weird. Tell me, do you have a voice in your head that goes like: “Mikasa, we have to kill Eren” ?”
She frowned at him, her raven eyebrows narrowing.
“Of course I do. It gets stronger every time you piss me off.”
“I better watch my behavior then.”, he chuckled, “Anyway, I admit that we had certain issues to work through, but I’m glad we managed.”
“We sure did. So…”, she tugged at his arm, getting Eren to lie back down, “Stay with me?”
His beloved was always like this, especially earlier in their relationship. During college, Mikasa was so touch starved that she would just cling to his arm anytime they were together, going completely against her usual ice queen facade. Keeping his cool around the campus was impossible, because even when he was staring at his phone Eren was hyperaware of her body very, very close to him. And how was he supposed to be “cool” when there was an incredibly beautiful goth girl, with her black clothes, piercings and all that, holding his arm, smiling like it was the best thing in the world. There was no way, so he just blushed and hoped that no one would see it. She would blush too when he looked at her, would angle her head lower, the inverted crosses in her ears swaying lightly, but she wouldn’t let go.  Mikasa just liked holding him that much. Reminded of these pretty memories, Eren’s chuckle evolved into a grin.
“Sure, I’ll stay with you. On one condition though, you have to promise that you won’t choke me out.”
“Asshat.”
When Mikasa woke up for the second time, Eren was already awake, watching her with that small smile that made her stomach flutter. She asked him once, why he does that, and he just shrugged and said that he sometimes still can’t believe how lucky he is that someone like her is in his life.
“Rested enough?”
“Mhmm… I think so.”
“That’s good because I ordered us some pizza. Wouldn’t want that to get cold.”
“Pizza for breakfast?” Mikasa faked an outraged expression, “What would Carla think?”
“She would probably ask for a slice.”, Eren shrugged, “Mom was always very practical.”
Mikasa smiled at that, fond memories of Eren’s mom filling her head.
“Anyway,”, Eren changed the topic, “How was training? I wanted to ask yesterday but I don’t think you wanted to hear one more word about the gym.”
“Fine, fine.”, she stretched, moaning a bit when her muscles protested, “But Levi cut me off, said that I needed a break.”
“Really? A damn shame that.”
“Why?”
“I like watching you train. Or even better, training with you.”, he gave her a nondescript look, “It’s hot.”
“You’re saying that you pop a boner while watching me?”
“I’m saying that watching you train, or fight, is fucking beautiful.”, Eren’s eyes roamed over her body, the wonder and appreciation in his gaze would make Mikasa blush if she wasn’t completely flush already, “The way you move, the way you dodge and attack, I never get enough of it.”
“The way I move huh?”, crawling over to his side of the bed, Mikasa walked her fingers down from his chest to Eren’s abs and continued, “How about I show you some other moves I can do?”
A small sexy twitch crossed his lips, but before he could reply to the generous offer, something shattered their little love scene. The doorbell rang. Eren huffed, running a hand through his hair.
“I’ll get it, it’s most likely the food.”
With that, Eren rolled from the bed and went out of the door, only pausing to throw his pants on. Mikasa was just about to follow him when her eyes slid over the dresser, a certain object catching her eye. It was the end of one of their play ropes, black with red stripes. Instead of walking out of the door, she moved towards it, grasping and pulling it into her hands. Running it between her fingers, the sensation was enough for her head to start filling with ideas. She wasn’t that hungry yet, or rather, there was something else she would like, not food. The last weeks were exhausting, filled with things to do that weren’t Eren, and Mikasa would very much like her fill. A plan forming in mind, she quickly stripped from her sleeping clothes. Bare, she took out her collar from its resting place, bucking it tight around her neck. Even the gentle hug of the soft leather made her relax that tiny bit, her body knowing what usually followed once she was collared. Finding a nice location in front of the bed and kneeling down, Mikasa had to bite her bottom lip to keep the excitement in. Naked, save for a thick strip of leather around her throat, holding the rope, she waited.
The door opened and Eren was back.
“Hey babe, the food is here, you want…”, but then his eyes found her and the sentence dissolved in his throat, “Oh, I ordered pizza but it looks like someone has a taste for a vegan steak.”
A small giggle left Mikasa’s lips understanding the reference to the dorky code word system they had.
“I would like one, yes.” mustering her courage, she held up the ropes in her straightened hands like an offering, “Would you tie me up please?”
Eren moved closer, the food completely forgotten, but didn’t take the rope yet. Instead, he ran his hands over it, gently touching the material.
“Why?”, he asked, voice low.
“It’s just…”, Mikasa stammered, looking for the right words.
She wanted this for a multitude of reasons. The past weeks had been hectic, with everything that was going on. She had to worry about her next matches, looking through the file Levi compiled for her. She had to keep her training up while also attending various photoshoots at Kiyomi’s agency. She had to sign various contracts that gave her the Hizuru ltd. as a sponsor. And most of all, she had to worry about Annie coming back and once again completely wrecking Armin’s life. Mikasa wanted to just turn her brain off for a moment. She wanted Eren to take control of her, to wrap those pretty ropes around her and make her forget. She wanted to have her mind blown by how skillful he was.
“I’m just stressed out, want to relax.”, she compressed her thoughts into a single sentence. Doing her best attempt at puppy eyes, she pleaded: “Please?”
Eren could never deny her when she was like this, and to be honest, it's not that he wanted to in the first place. He took the rope from her hands. Flexing it between his fingers, his mind already worked over all the different riggings he could put Mikasa into.
“You gonna be a good girl for me?”, he asked, putting one hand on her cheek, gently caressing her.
She nuzzled into the touch.
“The best.”
He smiled down at her, thumb tracing the scar on her cheek.
“Very well, but I do have one request.”, with that, he turned away from her and rummaged through her clothes, returning with something in his hand.
“Put these on.”, he half-requested, half-ordered her.
Mikasa took the item, looking it over.
“Thigh highs?”, she asked, eyeing the black material with a raised eyebrow, “Really?”
Eren just smirked at the absurdity of that statement, not judging it worthy of a reply. This was far from the weirdest thing Mikasa had put on for him, maybe even the bottom of that ladder. It doesn’t take a genius to compare a pair of thigh high socks and a skintight latex bodysuit. Eren saw these when he was doing laundry one day, and one discovery later he was hellbent in seeing his fiancé in these, knowing that she would look just amazing. And, judging now, as he was watching her put them on, he was very much correct. With her excited half-smile, Mikasa did just as he wanted, pulling the material over her long legs.
“Here.”, she said, flexing her covered toes at him, “Happy?”
“Immensely. Now…”, he approached her, a predatory grin sneaking onto his features, “Let’s get started.”
It still astonished her how good Eren got with this. Remembering their first time, how long it took him to wrap her up, how many times he had to consult the book, what was happening now was a quite different experience. Eren had determination, magical hands and a very willing model to work with, and he perfected his skills to the highest degree. The rope slid over her skin, tightening in just the right places as Eren was tying her with practiced motions. It was faster, but not too fast, the tempo just enough that Mikasa could close her eyes and feel every single touch, but not too slow so she wouldn’t get bored or restless.
Shibari was amazing especially because she could enjoy it like this. With handcuffs or other bondage gear they had, it took next to no time to lock the sub into it. Tighten a clamp, close a buckle and it was done. With ropes, it was way slower, especially thanks to the intricate design Eren was doing, but incredibly worth it. Eyes closed, she focused on her body, feeling each rub of the rope against her skin. Eren didn’t even touch her yet but Mikasa was already high on this feeling, breathing getting shaky.
With every knot, she could feel her worries melting away, retreating for now. They would be back, but for now the world narrowed to her body, the rope, and Eren’s presence all around her. The more the bondage tightened around her body the more relaxed Mikasa was, the less she could move the more she felt like she could fly. The ropes felt heavenly against the raven’s skin, their touch soft but firm. The rigging Eren put her into was beautiful, focused on her upper body. Her hands were bound behind her back and her breasts were tied, the lines created amazing patterns on her body, woven by Eren’s skilled hands. Basic yet effective, it got the job done and looked gorgeous too.
Fully tied and still on her knees, all she could do was watch as he loomed over her, a dark grin on his face, fully in his power. And as she watched, Eren took a step away from her, tugging his shirt over his head. With a few more moves, he was as naked as she, once again coming to stand right in front of Mikasa’s kneeling form. Gesturing her to stand, he watched as Mikasa scrambled up, the request made harder by her tied upper body. Face to face, Mikasa was forced to tilt her head up to look Eren in the eyes. Damn height difference. In a position like this, Mikasa expected a lot of things, or well, something at least, but when Eren did nothing but stared at her she frowned.
“What?”, she asked, unsure what was going on. Was something on her face?
“Nothing…”, reaching out, Eren gently cradled her cheek, as he definitely had a thing for touching that beautiful face, a warm smile on his lips, “You’re so incredibly pretty.”
It was crazy how strange he could be sometimes. Here she was, tied up, wearing nothing but those ropes, collar and black thigh highs and all he says is that she’s pretty. Yet it wasn’t stupid, because Eren’s words carried such deep love and appreciation in them that it made Mikasa blush. He meant every syllable. Embarrassed by how quickly he switched gears, from a bondage master to a loving boyfriend, Mikasa tried looking away, but Eren held her in place, forcing her eyes to stay at him.
“Stop that.”, she murmured, robbed of the possibility to avert her gaze.
He didn’t, smirking at the blush covering Mikasa’s cheeks.
“Cute. Miss Ackerman, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“Eren…”
“And anyone who doesn’t see that is not right in the head.”
“Stooooop.”
“Nope. Why do you think I tied you up in the first place? Now I can shower you in compliments and you can’t do anything about it.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Is that so…”
“Sure is. Worst you can do is spit on me.”
“You’d probably enjoy that perv.”
His smile was cocky.
“Maybe I would.”
Mikasa sought a way to get her balance back, and spitting wasn’t it. With most of her weapons taken from her, she decided to launch a sneak attack. Quick as an attacking snake, she lurched forward, standing up on her tippy toes to bridge the height gap between them and smacking her mouth right against his. Surprised by the kiss, Eren grabbed her by the shoulders to stabilize, very quickly realizing what’s happening and putting out his offensive.
Tongues sliding against one another, Mikasa gave up on trying to control the liplock and instead surrendered to how nicely it felt. In addition, she could feel something hard poking her abdomen, a promise of things to come if she kept this up. To her disappointment, the kiss didn’t last nearly long enough before Eren pulled back and shoved her forcefully. She fell, body hitting the soft mattress and slightly bouncing. Her tits surely bounced, much to his amusement.
“Hey!”, she protested, but Eren didn’t give her time to talk.
Crawling over her body, he kissed her with much more force, wrenching her mouth open for him. To weaken her defenses, fingers began advancing on a different battlefield, sliding over her sex with deadly intent. He spread her open, dragged a finger through and tapped her clit, knowing exactly what to do. Despite Mikasa angling her hips and everything, Eren didn’t push a finger inside though, leaving her extremely frustrated. The bastard knew it, using the distraction to completely dominate the kiss, invading her mouth, taking everything from her. She mewled underneath his weight, body jerking. Her hands, so used to tangling in Eren’s hair during kissing could only dig fingernails into her forearms. The ropes squeezed her from all sides, and Mikasa found herself growing more and more turned on by the second. Which of course played perfectly into Eren’s cards. The magical fingers danced over her body, featherlight touches that did nothing to satisfy the hunger in her. Getting tied up by her skillful lover always lit the fire in Mikasa’s belly, and this tongue action combined with the right caress stoked the flames higher and higher.
“Eren,”, she whimpered, “stop teasing.”
All he did was shake his head.
“No.”
Mikasa whined needily, using her legs and trying to push his body closer to her. Yet Eren didn’t budge, bracing himself against the admittedly very powerful force coming from Mikasa’s strong legs. The soft material of her thigh high socks slid against his skin, whispering.
“I’ll fuck you on my terms.”, he stated, resisting the tempting pull, “Or I won’t fuck you at all.”
He leaned even closer, the ends of his long hair brushing over Mikasa’s flushed face.
“You did say that you are gonna be a good girl for me, so which one will it be?”
As if he didn’t know the answer already. When Mikasa was like this, craving the dick and full of hormones, she could be very pliant.
“Please sir, do what you want with me.”, she whispered submissively.
Officially in charge, Eren took hold of one of her legs, pushing it high while keeping the other grounded. The forced angle between her lower limbs gave him a prime view of that place between her legs, so nicely pink and glistening, begging for his attention.  Still, he couldn’t help but tease her, it was way too much fun. Carefully, Eren pressed the tip of his cock ever so gently to her sopping wet entrance but no further.
Mikasa protested wordlessly, whined and whimpered and maneuvered her hips, trying to get him inside her. But Eren was experienced with teasing, so instead of giving her what she craved he continued toying with her, driving Mikasa’s already soaring arousal into a new level. It didn’t take much, a slide of his cock over her slit, letting it bump against her clit a few times and she was practically begging with her eyes. Neither of them said a word, it wasn’t needed at the moment, the symphony of their bodies was enough to communicate. That and the sounds Mikasa was making, almost like an animal in heat. It was testing for Eren too because having her like this was almost too much. She was so fucking hot, so desperate, so helplessly tied up. Her muscles moved beneath her skin, beneath his hands as she bucked and pulled, grinding herself against him. Just give it to me, her whole being said, please.
And that was about everything Eren was willing to take. With one hand on his member to steady it and the other on the girl beneath him, he guided himself into her, pressing his cock inside, pink lips parting to accept his offering. It was always pleasant like nothing else in the world, no matter how many times he experienced it. Eren gasped in pure bliss as the warmth enveloped him from all sides, making it hard to keep the slow tempo up. Still, he managed.
Eren kept both his hands occupied. One was holding Mikasa’s right leg up high, the other anchoring the left as he kept her spread and open for him. Slow but steady, he kept pushing until most of him was inside her, rubbing the inner walls as he went. Then after getting about three-quarters of his length in, he began withdrawing, once again unhurried. His length came out slick from her juices, appearing from between the parted outer lips of Mikasa’s cunt. She gasped when Eren pulled almost all the way out, only the head remaining sheathed, struggling for air, but then lost her breath again when he pushed back in. Body tensing, her legs shook where Eren held them, toes visibly curling.
Uncaring, he pushed forward, stuffing her and feeling as her walls gave way, body accommodating to the frequent visitor. Mikasa was feverish from this torture, the tempo Eren set was not enough to satisfy her flaming desire. Her head dropped onto the bed, mouth open in silent cries and moans, hands clenched into tight fists on the small of her back, bound together. The ropes kept digging into her skin when she flexed her muscles, they kept her grounded, unable to take control over the situation. She couldn’t flip Eren and take what she wanted. She could hold him down and ride him like there was no tomorrow. She couldn’t do anything, just take what he gave her.
Mikasa was incredibly tight, she always was, but Eren was relentless. The more he pushed the more her body opened for him until finally he touched the opening of her cervix. The rubbery feeling, familiar at this point, let him know that he had effectively hit rock bottom. Now he was completely inside her, bottoming out just when she couldn’t give him any more space. They really were made for one another.
Her cunt gripped him inside her hard, muscles sealing him in. Yet Eren didn’t wait. He pulled out again, almost entirely, and slid back in, only a fraction faster than before. The bump of her cervix was the signal, and he repeated the motion, and again, and again. Finally speeding up, finally picking up the tempo, Mikasa couldn’t keep the long pleasure moan inside her as it vibrated through her entire being. It was still too slow for her tastes, but it was far better than nothing. Her voice quivered, being forced to moan for him again, the fullness inside her demanding it. Mikasa arched from the bed, her body creating that perfect bridge and in response the ropes dug deeper into her skin, squeezing her breasts from all sides. He fucked her, still slow and languid, in movements that were not rushing anywhere. It was not enough, and if she was not tied up, Mikasa would have taken control of this long ago, she would….
Out of nowhere, the nice cock she was enjoying disappeared. It was gone from her heat and she was painfully empty, inner muscles clenching on nothing. Mikasa whined at the loss completely unsatisfied, loudly protesting. And again, Eren ignored her. His hand appeared, pulling hard at the ropes and she was, against her will, pulled into a kneeling position. Eren must have stood up, she realized, because facing her was not his head, but his fully erect length instead, glistening with both of their juices. The hand that pulled her body upright moved into Mikasa’s hair, taking a firm hold of the red and black strands.
“Suck me clean.”, he ordered her, exactly as demanding as Mikasa liked him to be.
With her hands tied and in a position like this, she didn’t have much choice in the matter to begin with. It was rather obvious - if she wanted to get it back inside her, she had to obey. So saying nothing, starved as she was, her cheeks red from the teasing half-fuck she got, Mikasa opened her mouth and took his throbbing cock head into her mouth. Her pink lips and warm mouth took more and more in, inch by inch she reached about halfway of Eren’s length before pulling back. The skin that was already wet from her cunt got even wetter by her mouth. Mikasa puckered her lips and spat on the cockhead where the clear droplets of pre-cum were oozing from the tip. And then she kept going.
Keeping her eyes open, she ran her tongue slowly along the underside, knowing it is a  very sensitive area. Mikasa licked him some more, like an eager cat, cleaning him exactly as she was ordered to. Then she wrapped those heavenly lips back on the swollen tip, and descended once again, mouth taking in his girth. She sucked on what was inside her, hard, making Eren groan above her, the fist in her hair tightening. He didn’t lead her, he didn’t have to, Mikasa was more than fulfilling any expectation he had.
With her mouth full of cock, Mikasa established eye contact, keeping it as she sunk lower and lower, taking more of Eren inside her mouth. Soon that was out of space, however, yet she kept going, the tip reaching the depths of her relaxed throat. Eren swore when he felt that, his eyes trained on her face, watching her pleasure him. If this was not erotic, then nothing else was.
Since her hands were tied, Mikasa couldn’t cup his balls as she usually did while giving a blowjob, couldn’t play with them, so she did her best to make up for it. The raven sucked harder and began bobbing her head, starting slowly but picking up speed. Before long the wet noise echoed in the room. From his vantage point above her, Eren had a prime view of her small, perky breasts, so nicely tied by the black and red rope, as they heaved with her efforts, nipples hard like small diamonds.
In short, Mikasa was pretty fucking good at cocksucking. She was, if anything, too good, and Eren was starting to lose himself to the feeling of her lips, her tongue adventurous as she explored all of his length. Even the light graze of teeth on the head had him gritting his own teeth. He could cum in her mouth, Eren knew that she would take it, but that wasn’t on the agenda. So, with great effort, Eren pulled at her hair, getting her greedy mouth away from his length which was now slick and completely covered in her spit.
Before she could question him, he flipped her over roughly with a strength that she wasn’t in a state to resist, Mikasa’s knees scrambling on the bedding. Eren kneeled behind her, guiding himself with one hand as he aimed for the dripping prize. The “What” died in favor of a long groan when he pushed right back inside her wet cunt, giving Mikasa no time to rest. With her hands tied behind her back, she couldn’t even brace herself against the punishing pace he set, fucking her with a clear purpose on mind. Her body shook, assaulted like this, face boiling red. As her muscles involuntarily clenched, Eren watched the tattooed wings on Mikasa’s back ripple, almost like flapping, trying to get away. But she was not going anywhere. Her hands clenched around nothing, black fingernails digging into her skin, and at the same time she tried biting into the covers to muffle herself. A motion that was not needed, as they were alone and Eren did not approve of unnecessary silence. One hand holding her waist, helping her trembling knees brace against the unrelenting assault, he reached out with the other, tangling it in her short midnight hair, now all shiny with sweat. With a yank, he brought her head up.
“Don’t.”, he growled, “Scream for me.”
And scream she did, when those deepest parts of her kept being rammed, over and over, her mind clouding over with pure and raw pleasure. Mikasa liked doggystyle, liked being taken from behind, liked the depth it allowed Eren to reach. It was even better now because Eren had that special angle figured out, that one she liked the most. He also knew that she liked being prepared first before the real rough pounding and did that too with the earlier teasing. All the checkmarks were there, all the optional objectives completed, and Mikasa was getting it exactly as she liked it. Her body was losing control, even her knees were faltering, and Eren was forced to let go of her hair to keep her ass up. Mikasa’s upper body, now with nothing anchoring it, flopped back on the bed, but she didn’t silence herself anymore. She moaned, groaned, and cried out loud, giving Eren exactly the satisfaction he wanted.
To reward her, he moved his fingers down, fingering her swollen clit. The touches were light, but in combination with the pounding she was getting from behind, it was more than enough. With each rub, with each time the head of his cock kissed that deep spot, Mikasa was getting tighter and tighter, her impressive musculature clenching hard around the invading length. The fire rising inside her, her eyes slid shut as she dragged her face over the bedding, the impeding orgasm closer and closer. It was wet, very wet, some of it leaking out as he hammered into her, dripping down over his balls. She was being stuffed like a freaking turkey, again and again, full and filled. This, this was what she craved. This was better than anything else, this was the best workout.
It felt like she was losing her mind from the incredibly intense pleasure. Eren kept going and going, so rough, throwing his gentleness in the wind. The caring boyfriend was gone, replaced by this sexual monster who was giving her the grade A dicking. There was no mental preparation she could do against the tidal wave. Her mind was shattered into thousand pieces, her body helpless, Mikasa was more or less just surviving the brutal assault on her body. She surrendered everything, burned it in the fire that was flaring through her whole body now. And with the last snap she was keeled over, inferno raging freely.
Mikasa came, and she came hard, her already loud moaning rising even higher as she didn’t muffle herself at all. She screamed out loud, body shaking, drool leaving her open lips and leaking onto the covers beneath her. Her eyes rolled back and she didn’t see anything, just white as Eren continued in his attack, not even slowing down. Her cunt was clenching hard around him, her feet, covered by the black socks, kicked the mattress repeatedly in her spasms, her fists tightened so much that the knuckles were bleeding white. She dug nails into her skin again, in a faint attempt to keep a grip on reality, but it did nothing apart from scratching herself bloody, a pain she did not even feel. Mikasa was completely lost in the stream of pleasure, defenseless. And Eren took full advantage, prolonging her orgasm as much as he could, touching and fucking her in a way that made the experience the best he could deliver.
But orgasming Mikasa was too much for any mortal man to handle, her body was a beautiful trap that was now fully triggered, the muscled passage massaging his whole length in a way nothing else in the world could imitate. He couldn’t stop himself, no matter how hard he clenched his teeth and how hard he squeezed her waist. Eren was too weak, so with a loud groan of his own, he came inside her, hips snapping until it was all over and they were both completely spent and done. It was a lot, way too much, dripping down on the covers underneath them, dirty and filthy and neither of them cared. There would be time to clean up later. Mikasa mewled in front of him, rubbing her face on the bedding, tired, happy and so thoroughly fucked that even her athletic body needed a break. Reaching over, Eren pushed the sweaty hair away from her face, smiling down at her afterwards.
“Hungry?”
They ate the cold pizza in comfortable silence, sprawled on the sofa. Mikasa, dressed only in a bathrobe after finally taking those damn thigh highs off and showering, had her legs in Eren’s lap giving her tired body the rest it deserved. The food might have been better when it arrived, but this was a trade she would take any day of the week. The pizza was good, and Mikasa was feeling sated on all fronts when they finished. Then a certain idea popped in her mind, something else that she hasn’t done in a while and would like, so turning to Eren she voiced her proposal.
“Hey babe, want to smoke some weed?”
“Weed?”
“Yeah, I got it from Sasha, long time ago actually. I’ve been keeping it for a special occasion I guess, so how about we do it now?”, seeing his puzzled expression, Mikasa’s brows rode up. “Wait, you’ve never done weed before?”
Eren shook his head.
“What about college? Everybody smoked there.”
“Not me though.”
Mikasa wasn’t a pothead, but living with Sasha, who was one, did make her try it a few times. It made her relax, and that was a valuable feeling in the otherwise stressful environment. The need increased even more when she started dating Eren and kept agonizing over fucking whatever they were having over. In time she grew out of it, and smoked only very occasionally nowadays, but if today was not the occasion then what was one.
“Wanna try it then? I still have my bong stashed.”
“Your bong? And I’ve never seen it?”, putting a hand on his heart, Eren continued, “What else are you hiding from me?”
She booped him on the nose.
“Many things, but I believe you’ll get to know them eventually. What about the smoke, you in?”
He was. After some basic tutorial, when Mikasa showed him how to use the thing, they managed to get a few good hits even with his coughing. Getting an idea, Mikasa inhaled some smoke again before leaning over and capturing Eren’s lips in a kiss. He was all for it until she breathed the smoke right into his mouth. Eren got a coughing fit, Mikasa got a laughing one, and it was mutually decided that it was enough drugs for one day.
With pizza and weed in her system, Mikasa was practically melting into the couch, so relaxed that being on cloud nine was probably the best definition of her mental state right now. Minutes passed without Mikasa doing anything, not even moving her body for once, letting her abused muscles rest. She probably fell asleep too, because now she was feeling rested and once again recharged. To see if Eren was also up in the chill heaven with her, Mikasa rolled over. He did look great, rested too, but his eyes were busy, studying the dance pole in the corner for some reason. Which, in turn, gave her yet another idea.
“Would you like a dance?”
He blinked at her, surprised.
“You’d do that for me?”
“Tsk, of course.”, she gave him a slow, sexy smile, “Go, sit down.”
Standing up, Mikasa shrugged off the bathrobe as that would only flap around. Walking over to the pole, she shot a look over her shoulder to see that Eren was watching her intently, green eyes following her every step. Knowing that she had his full attention, Mikasa began the show.
The raven didn’t do a pole dance naked before, but it wasn’t that different from the underwear she sometimes practiced in. Having the thing at home had certain advantages. The pole was still the same, solid metal beneath her hands. Mikasa didn’t do the hardest and most demanding forms, knowing that this was more for show than an actual workout. She focused on the sexy part, doing twirls and legwork, snaking herself around the pole with precision. While she was getting lost in the dance, Eren had a great time sitting back and watching. He did so often, but it never ceased to amaze him. Mikasa’s body was incredible, a well-oiled machine that moved exactly as its mistress wanted it to. Her every muscle worked exactly as she ordered, pushing the body as a whole beyond what normal humans could achieve. She could do that in the ring, often surprising her opponents just how strong and fast she was, and she could do that here too. Combine that with her gymnast-like flexibility, and this was by far the best pole dance Eren had ever seen in his life. If she was doing this professionally, Mikasa would, in his humble opinion, be world-class. Then again, this was his fiancé so he was most likely strongly biased.
She didn’t overwork herself, there was no need. This dance wasn’t to strengthen herself, it was to show off, and Mikasa did that flawlessly. By the time she was done, Eren was staring with mouth a bit open, completely bewitched by how she moved. Dark magic in high school might not be very effective, but this thing was certainly working. Putting both her feet back on the solid ground, Mikasa leaned on the pole, crooking her finger at her charmed victim.
He moved immediately, shuffling forward like a zombie, his eyes only for her. A good spell. Eren hands went for her immediately, as that dance was an incredibly foreplay and it got him fired up good and proper. The location was a bit unlucky, so Mikasa voiced her concern out loud, unsure how this would work.
“Here? You want to do it here?”
“Why not?
“I’m not opposed to it, I’m just wondering.”, she eyed the pole with a certain criticism in her gaze, “How?”
It wouldn’t be Eren if he let a simple logistic problem defeat him. Hoisting Mikasa up, he pressed her back against the metal, eyebrow raised.
“Like this?”
She shifted left and right, tried how it went but this wasn’t it. The metal was digging into her spine, making it uncomfortable.
“No, wait. Let me down.”
Eren did so immediately, taking a step back to let Mikasa come up with a better alternative. She turned around, holding the pole and bending over, presenting her butt as an offering. The arch of her back that she did, the perfect curve, it never failed to make Eren’s mouth water.
“How about like this?”, she suggested.
Yes, even her back was sexy as hell. The chiseled, firm shapes, the incredibly back muscles, the beautiful tattoo covering it, artistically interwoven into the porcelain skin. Coming close, Eren ran his hands over the two flawless globes that were Mikasa’s ass, silently admiring that unbelievably sexy shape.
“Yeah, this will do.”
It would be a damn shame to see such a meal in front of you and not having a taste. Seeing her pink outer lips, ready and waiting for him, Eren decided that it was time to once again bring out his oral skills. He knew for a fact that Mikasa adored them. Dropping down to his knees, Eren met her confused eyes with his own, giving her a wink.
“The position is perfect, but I think that I’ll go for a snack first.”
And he dived in, tongue first.
The pole was, in the end, a serviceable place to have sex at. After the deed was done, they just fell on the floor, laughing.
“You didn’t have to eat me out first, you know.”, she said, but Eren just raised an eyebrow, “We could have just fucked right away.”
“Why not? I know that you love it.”
“I do, but again?”, she trailed her hand over his lips, “You are so generous to me, it’s crazy.”
“Please, after that pole dance? I’d do anything for you, that thing was so fucking hot it was unreal. Plus, if you like something, ask for it, it’s good to be comfortable with what you enjoy.”
“That depends. I think I may be growing too comfortable with sex and such.”
“What do you mean?”
“You see, a week or something back I was checking if my catsuit, the black one, still fits me as it should, I wanted to use it that evening. You remember right?”
“Please, how could I forget?”
“Then you also remember that we had a delivery that day. And when the bell rang, guess who almost opened the door wearing a freaking latex bodysuit.”
“Aw, that wouldn’t be so bad though, you could always salvage that situation.”
“How exactly? How could I escape the thousand and one news articles saying: “the freaky sex life of the Azumabito’s cover girl exposed!“ Somehow I don’t think that Kiyomi would be all that happy with me.”
“You’d just have to spin the story. Make it look like you are training for a Catwoman cosplay.”
“Yeah, only if Halloween wasn’t a year away, right?”
“Maybe he would believe you, you never know. Anyway, why were you wearing it?”, he poked her in the stomach, feeling the abs shift beneath his touch, “I didn’t notice you gaining weight or anything.”
“I don’t know, I just..”, she was blushing now, looking away, “I like how it feels on my skin, even when the latex is a pain in the ass to get into. Once I finally put it on, I didn’t feel like taking it off.”
When he didn’t say anything to that confession, she looked back at his face.
“Not gonna tease me?”
“Why would I? I’m glad that you enjoy it because I surely do. You look like a goddess in it.”
“Goddes of BDSM? That’s what you called me right?”
“Sure did, and we both know that I'm just saying the truth.”
The mental picture in his head Eren another idea, so he continued.
“So how about….”
But Mikasa cut him off.
“No, I’m not putting it on now. Way too much work.”
“Oh well, can’t blame me for trying.”
“I’m not. But we can have fun even without the suit, can’t we?”
She leaned closer, almost kissing him but not really, her lips only millimeters away when she spoke.
“Any ideas?”
Eren closed the distance hungrily, capturing the elusive tease in a wild kiss before flipping them over and pushing her down, fully intent on showing her just how much fun they can indeed have.
She grumbled a bit in discomfort when Eren kept pushing until her legs were on her shoulders, completely doubling her over.
“Are we fucking or doing yoga?”, she asked.
“Can’t it be both?”
Mikasa rolled her eyes at him, and there was no way he was letting that go unanswered. Moving forward, he kept a firm hold on her ankles, forcing her body to bend even more for him, abusing the flexibility she had. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t protest again, letting Eren do as he pleased. Yet that stern expression fell completely apart when he pushed back into her, the position giving him premium access to her sex.
“Didn’t you learn anything in all these years of fighting?”, he whispered pulling back, but when Mikasa opened her mouth to answer he pushed back in, so all that came out of her was a moan. The bastard.
With a grin, he finished his thought.
“Never forget to stretch.”
He was taking it slow, languidly kissing every tattooed feather on her back. The action was very loving and unhurried, in stark contrast to the bruising lovemaking from before, but Mikasa welcomed it all the same.
“Your back is so sexy.”, he whispered in between the kisses. “It does things to me.”
“My back? Is there a part of me that is not sexy?”
“Nope. You are the perfect female specimen.”, the kisses trailed from one shoulder blade to the other, “So, are you ready for another round, princess?”
“Sure, but I’m not moving.”, she eyed him over her shoulder, a smug smirk on her face, “Do your best.”
She more felt than heard Eren’s low chuckle. It was his own damn fault, Mikasa was resting, lying on her side and staring into nothing in particular when he slithered over and started his slow worship of her tattooed skin. Not that Mikasa was opposed to it, but she wasn’t going to just get up because of him.
“I can work with that.”, he growled, his hand wrapping around her thigh.
And he did just that, parting her legs and slipping in from behind. Yet he didn’t push in, keeping his head just shy of penetration, just barely parting her outer lips. It was a technique he developed, the fastest way to get Mikasa to talk about something she would normally blush and hide her face for. Dangle the carrot in her reach but not give it to her, keep her on the edge. Mikasa’s reaction was fast. She whined, stirred her hips, tried to get Eren to slip into her. He held fast.
“Any reason for your sudden laziness?”
As expected, she answered immediately, wanting nothing more for than for Eren to just shut up and fuck. Literally.
“We haven’t done this position in a while, and I like it.”, she curled her body, sticking out her butt for easier access, “I can just lie here as the little spoon while you do all the work.”
“Miki, just say the word and I’ll do the whole Kamasutra with you.”
She giggled at that, delighted.
“You think that there is a lot we haven’t tried?”
It wasn’t the first time one of them was feeling adventurous, and that usually led to a tryout for a new position randomly found on the internet. Thanks to Mikasa’s body, work of art on its own, so far they have never been unable to do the thing. The results ranged from absolutely terrible and borderline painful that were immediately dropped to some that Mikasa loved. Eren wasn’t much of a connoisseur in this, if he had a preference it was being able to see Mikasa’s face, a cheesy line that never failed to make her blush.
“For sure. Don’t underestimate how creative some people are.”
“No rush, let’s take it one by one.”, rubbing herself on Eren’s length more, she once again voiced her need, “So quit stalling and put it in.”
Pressing forward, Eren filled her, the position and angle allowing his cock to reach a great depth within her. It also gave him prime access to both Mikasa’s neck and ears, places where she was highly sensitive. Taking full advantage he mouthed her ear, tonguing the piercings before whispering.
“Your wish is my command.”
Sometimes, even being the peak specimen, they needed a break. It was a haze, madness, and Mikasa doubted that it was the weed. They were drunk and high, but not on drugs, on each other. And now that she thought about it, she was ready for another dose. Looking over where Eren was, Mikasa decided that it was time to see if her supplier had something in stock for her. Also, she could ask what the status was on the little endurance contest they had going on. There was no way in hell that an Ackerman was losing – as long as she was breathing, Mikasa would never admit defeat. She rolled on top of Eren, seating herself on her fallen lover.
“How are you doing, loser?”
He scoffed up at her, hands taking hold of her hips.
“I didn’t give up yet.”
“Then what was that:”, Mikasa dropped her voice lower, doing her best to imitate Eren’s tone, “M-Miki please, I c-can’t…. Not again… Oh god…”
She interlaced her speech with a lot of groans and moaning to drive her point home. In turn, his hands on her waist tightened, halting the back-and-forth rocking Mikasa was doing to illustrate her point. Not only to stop her making fun of him, but also because it was doing things to him that he was not yet ready to follow through with.
“I feel like you’re mocking me.”, he growled.
She quirked an eyebrow.
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“It’s not that I mind, but It is kind of hypocritical.”
“Why is that?”
“I do remember a foot on my head, pushing me away from someone’s pussy, because”, now it was Eren doing the imitating, pushing his voice higher to match Mikasa’s “Babe, I-I ne-need a minute, It’s to-too m-much…”
She frowned at him.
“Oral is cheating.”
That made him laugh, the sound shaking his body beneath her thighs. Seated as she was, it shook Mikasa too.
“So me eating you out is cheating, but you sucking my soul out is fine?”
“Well it’s fair, you get to use ropes so it’s balanced.”
“I don’t remember having the monopoly on that,”, Eren’s fingers started doing those small circles on Mikasa’s hipbones, a more or less unconscious reflex at this point, “You can tie me up too, if you want…”
“I need way more gear to do it right, you grab a rope and…”, she made a booming gesture, “Blow my mind.”
Not sure how to react to such a compliment, Eren just smiled. Because what is the right reaction when your girlfriend tells you that you are very good at rope bondage?
“Thanks. I love you too my rope bunny.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a term I found on the internet while doing some err.. research. Apparently it’s a person who enjoys being bound so.”, he tapped her on the thigh, “You.”
Mikasa considered it for a moment but then shook her head.
“Nope, I don’t like it. Drop it.”
“Really? It’s kinda cute…”
However, she was decided. Reaching over Eren’s chest, she tapped him, hard, right in the middle. At the same time, her voice got filled with that murderous low tone that always made Eren shiver, and not in a good way. Mikasa was terrifying when she wanted to be and it didn’t matter that she was naked and seated on top of him. It was like flipping a switch – at first, she was the sexiest thing alive and then switch she made Eren want to salute and straighten his back while also cowering in fear at the same time. One of a kind.
“Drop. It.”
Well, he tried.
“Yes my queen.”
She rewarded him with a smile.
“Now that’s more like it. Know your place, fuckboy.”
“Really?”
“You’re experimenting, I’m experimenting. But don’t worry, I don’t like that one either, I think that I’ll stick with Eren.”
He snorted beneath her.
“Thanks.”
Pleased by how quickly he obeyed, Mikasa ran her hands over his firm body, stopping the cup his once again hard member.
“Now look,”, she purred, “ Is this for me?”
She was so immersed in the kiss that she didn’t even realize where Eren was taking her. But when Mikasa’s naked skin slid along something slightly fuzzy and soft, she had to break away to see. Oh. A pool table. Her thoughts got jumbled right after, because after Eren so unceremoniously dumped her on the table, he parted her thighs and bowed his head, going to work. Eren was an artist with his mouth, so whatever Mikasa wanted to ask was promptly forgotten, and didn’t resurface until after she came, her body writhing on top of that strange new surface.
“Why do we even have a pool table?”, she panted the question out, “It’s not like we use it.”
Eren looked like he didn’t want to answer, too absorbed in lining himself up properly, not even bothering with wiping his face. But when Mikasa tugged on his hair, he did raise his eyes.
“We are using it right now.”, he said, making Mikasa giggle.
“I don’t think that the table was designed for fucking.”
“Doesn’t matter. WE bought it, we can use it for what we want to.”
He stopped all of a sudden, the tip of his member just touching Mikasa’s sex, only the slightest part inside her velvety heat.
“Should I get off of you and set the table?”, he even had the indecency to smirk down at her, “We can play pool if you want, sink some balls.”
Instead of answering, Mikasa wrapped her legs around him and pulled hard, basically forcing Eren to slide into her in one quick motion. As he didn’t expect it, Eren made the most embarrassing moan, eyes widening.
“Maybe later.”, she said, “For now, forget the balls and focus on sinking Into me.”
Eren didn’t need to be told twice, bracing himself on the pool table, he drove into her, once again taking control of the situation. That didn’t mean that Mikasa stopped moving, her hips were still rising to meet his, her legs kept pushing and pulling in sync with the movements, she was very much an active party. With that much friction given by the cloth on the pool table, her body wasn’t sliding that much, something Eren was grateful for. He could drive into her with more force, a notion Mikasa appreciated with a deep purr in her throat. And when she closed her eyes and craned her neck, getting closer and closer to the edge, a single thought flashed through her mind.
You know what, maybe the pool table wasn’t such a bad investment.
His fingers trailed her ass, passing her sex and moving until the tips pressed against the other hole.
“What about here?”, Eren asked, “Another thing we haven’t done in a while.”
True enough, and Mikasa nodded almost enthusiastically. She did remember that it could feel really good, with adequate preparation that is, and Eren was trained enough to know that.
“Get the lube.”
While Eren retrieved the item, Mikasa scrambled herself up to the hands and knees position, presenting her ass the best she could. Eren appreciated it with a hum and gentle caress of her butt. The fingers that probed into her Mikasa expected, relaxing her muscles and pushing back to help Eren slide in. At this point, they were rather experienced with this. After one finger came two, stretching her out in preparation for the sex. Or so she thought. Wrongly, because the next thing that came after Eren withdrew his hand wasn’t his cock, unless it froze when Mikasa wasn’t looking. The object was warmed a bit, by his mouth she guessed, but still colder than what she thought was going to slip inside her. It wasn’t that hard to guess that it was a plug.
“I th-thought we are going to f-fuck.”, she panted out, words hard to form while Eren worked the toy into her butt.
“You said it yourself, there is no rush.”, he pulled back a bit, once again stretching her with the widest part, “I want you to be prepared.”
Eren had a plan, and when he had a plan Mikasa didn’t argue. It was much more fun to simply play along. Once she was properly plugged, Eren smirked on the image in front of him. The toy had a heart-shaped decoration at the end, which was now settled between her cheeks, creating a rather pleasing view. This stage done, he stood up, meeting Mikasa’s unsteady gaze and red cheeks.
“Wanna watch a movie?”
The stare she gave him was hilarious, but Eren didn’t blame her. It was a strange thing to ask. In way of answering the unspoken “What the fuck?” question, he fished out the toy’s remote control from his pocket.
“I promise it’s gonna be fun.”
Seeing that he was completely serious, Mikasa let out a frustrated laugh, shaking her head. Eren was impossible sometimes. Getting up from her compromising position, she had to bite her bottom lip to keep the moan the toy’s shift inside her produced. And she played along.
“Okay, let me get dressed.”
Eren wasn’t lying, the movie was fun, made even better by the random vibration that certain someone kept sending through her body, building that mountain of frustration inside her. Yet she held, knowing that this was the game, a small friendly wager if she could hold herself back until it was over. In her stubbornness, she couldn’t let the smug devil that was her boyfriend have this one. Yet as soon as the movie was over, Mikasa was right on top of him, growling in the animalistic desire.
“Get your fucking dick out.”
And for the second time in a few hours, Eren had the feeling that disagreeing would cost him a few broken bones. Only a feeling, as Mikasa wouldn’t hurt him, but it was there and it made him shiver once again. Angry Mikasa was scary, and horny Mikasa wasn’t that far behind. Making peace with his fate, which was some incredible anal sex with Mikasa’s firm and shapely backside, Eren surrendered, saying the same phrase that he did not that long ago.
“Yes my queen.”
It was sunny outside, which meant that it was day, yet Mikasa could not care less. She didn’t know if Eren was passed out or not, lying next to her in their love nest, or if he was simply silently recharging for the next round. She was tired, beyond tired even, but in the best of ways, worn out by the most pleasant physical activity she knew besides fighting.  They’ve been at this for what, hours? Days? Mikasa lost count on how many times they finished each other off. If there ever was marathon sex than this was it. In accordance with her previous wish, Eren found an article online and they tried several new positions as well as dusted off some places they haven’t had sex on in a while. She was satisfied in every way, and it was only the stupid competition they had that made her reach out, poking Eren in the crotch. He groaned, eyes opening to look into hers. Grey meeting green, Mikasa smirked at him, pressing her palm against the soft member. She used him so much, the raven wasn’t sure if Eren even could get hard anymore.
“Seriously Miki?” he hissed, voice as tired as she felt, “What am I to you? A sexbot?”
With a giggle, Mikasa once again rolled on top of him, taking her favorite seat.
“Of course, why else would I spend all these years training you?”, her hand dragged down over his face, making a brief stop at his lips before descending to lay flat against Eren’s beating heart, “I’m just collecting on my time investment. With interest.”
“Large fucking interest, if I say so myself.”
“That’s how it works babe. And…”, she scooted closer, gracefully, whispering into his ear, “I don’t hear you complaining.”
“Kinda hard to..”
“Besides,”, she pulled back again, “Wasn’t it you who said, and I quote: “blowjob is an art”?”
“That was years ago!”, he whined, cursing Mikasa and her perfect memory, “I was eighteen and just got some action for the first time in my life! I was trying to motivate you since you didn’t seem that much into it at the beginning…”
“Geez, I wasn’t super stoked about having a dick down my throat. Who could have ever guessed that!”
“I mean…”
She waved his protest aside.
“Its fine, fine. I learned to like it anyway, with practice. My point is, you have all this big talk about that and you don’t think that eating pussy is not? You know how many times I had to guide you, step by step, to tell you exactly what to do and how I like it?”
“I remember Miki.”, he grinned up at her, “I was there.”
“Well then you know how many hardships I had to endure to get you to the point you are at now.”, she huffed in satisfaction, once again gently caressing Eren’s cheek, “Perfectly serviceable lover, finely tuned specifically for my pleasure. You know every position I like, every sensitive part of my body, everything.”
She tapped him on the nose.
“So why the hell wouldn’t I use you as much as I can?”, shifting her weight, so more of her naked ass was pressing right against Eren’s length, she smiled when feeling the familiar hardening, “Your body agrees with me.”
“You don’t play fair.”, he accused her.
“All is fair in love and war.”, she countered straight back.
Mikasa was obviously dead set on getting off again, but Eren still felt like his thing wasn’t ready, so he switched his voice into a pleading one.
“Mercy, please. I need to recharge, not everyone has a body like you do.”
A body that was an almost never tiring machine, capable of a wide variety of activities – everything from fighting to fucking and many more. Sex is a physical effort too, and unless Eren tied her up, Mikasa was very much active during it. The thing is, Eren could push Mikasa to her limits, exhaust her just as well as she did it to him, but he needed the assistance of his wide variety of sex toys. Here, skin to skin, with Mikasa unbound and only one butt plug to assist him, he was finding himself outmatched. Not by a large margin mind you, he more than held his own and Mikasa was perfectly satisfied with his performance, but it wouldn’t be her if she didn’t push for more. Overcome your limits, not only in the ring but in the bedroom too.
Yet it was very important to understand when your partner cannot perform anymore, and Mikasa was a generous goddess.
“Fine,”, she agreed, backing down, “ I don’t want to break you after all.”
“Why is that?”
A wink.
“You are my favorite toy.”
The line rang once, twice, thrice, fourth and then fifth time, making Levi frown. Mikasa was usually quite reliable when it came to answering his calls, she knew he didn’t do it unless there was something of importance to discuss. Just as he was about to end the call and try later, there was a crack and a familiar voice.
“Mikasa’s phone, Eren here.”
“Hey, can you give me the brat? I need to talk to her.”
“Sorry, but she’s at the shower right now. Should I give her a message?”
Levi sighed. Of course, she was busy when he needed her - that was just his luck.
“Fine, tell her to swing by tomorrow, we need to talk about the sponsorship shit from Hizuru.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“Good, good. You take care Eren.”
“You too Levi, see you.”
Putting the phone down, Eren ended the call. Carefully, he put it back on the dresser, turning around. What he told Levi wasn’t entirely accurate – Mikasa wasn’t in a shower, but she was very much unable to accept the call in her current situation. The smug smile spread over his face, Eren took a minute to admire her current situation, as it was his handiwork. If he wanted to be honest with Levi, he could have said that his fiancé is a bit tied up at the moment.
Mikasa was standing, or rather balancing herself, on just the toes of one of her legs. The other was pulled up and bent at the knee, secured in that position by ropes. Those sneaked all the way over her body, like a web, immobilizing her completely. Her torso and breasts were tied too, several crisscrossing lines that made a very nice pattern against her pale skin. Mikasa’s hands were tied behind her back, forearms pressed together. Two lines also ran down her abs, between the forcefully spread thighs and framed her sex, positioned so they would rub against her outer lips, teasing and not fulfilling. All these ropes connected at the top, leading up the ceiling where they were anchored, suspending her in the air. Eren calculated the height so the only part of her that could touch the ground here the tips of her left leg’s toes, her weight was held up by the ropework itself. And that was not all.
There were clamps on her nipples, small weight pulling them down. Her chest and abdomen were full of red wax stains, remnants from a little candle fun they had earlier. Even gagged, she made the cutest sounds when he dripped the hot substance on her nipples. Mikasa's eyes were hidden behind a thick blindfold and her mouth was held open by the aforementioned black ballgag, drool trickling down her chin. The silver letters on her collar glistened when she moved her head, moaning weakly into the rubber. Eren didn’t blame her. Pulling the remote control from his pocket, he increased the vibrations on the egg vibrator hidden deep inside her cunt. She reacted immediately, the moan changing into a long whine as Mikasa craned her neck, muscles tensing as she swayed in the rigging. He had been playing with her body for some time now, using several toys and instruments, making her extremely sensitive at this point.
Retrieving the flogger from where he dropped it once Mikasa’s phone started ringing, Eren walked over to where she was bound. Her head angled towards him once he drew near, searching, a non-descript sound coming from behind the gag. It was most likely her begging, Eren realized, circling her suspended body. He did a good job – the rope was as much of decoration, in the complicated shapes he created, as it was a restraint -the ropework was beautifully done, not leaving a single part of her body unbound. Even the tattooed wings on Mikasa’s back were crossed over by a rope, completing the illusion of a captured angel, fully at his mercy. And the devil was here to play.
Not hitting her yet, Eren dragged the flogger over her body, loving how she tensed against the soft touch. Her ass was nicely red, also his doing, whipped into that pretty color. It reminded him of the wax he dripped on her, stuck to Mikasa’s heated sweaty skin. There was also the end of the anal hook there, protruding from between her flawless buttcheeks, the clip smartly secured to the ropes around her body, pulled tightly. It was doubly as cruel now because hanging in the air like this, Mikasa had almost no control over it. Suspended, a part of Mikasa’s weight was carried by the hook itself, so the pressure was unrelenting. And when her body spasmed, either from pain or pleasure, it pulled at the hook and it shifted in her, merciless. It was truly a hellish contraption that he had bound his lover into. There was a lot he had done to her so far, and Eren could see the result of his efforts rather clearly. The proof of her arousal and enjoyment was running down Mikasa’s strong thighs, glistening and mixing with the sweat, soaking the ropes that tied her legs, held her helplessly open for him to have fun with.
Inspection done, Eren circled her completely, coming back to stand in front of her. Reaching down, he took hold of her face, turning her to him. Very carefully, he pushed the sweat matted short locks from her face, knowing how hyper-aware she is of his every touch. With your senses gone, the remaining ones tend to sharpen, Eren knew that for a fact as he was often put into a similarly vulnerable position on Mikasa’s dom days.
He was sure that Mikasa was looking at him, although he couldn’t see it through the blindfold, most likely begging with her eyes in addition to the muffled sounds leaking from behind the gag alongside the drool. He had the tied-up angel’s full attention.
“So…”, he drawled, thumbing her scar gently, knowing that there would be enough time to get rough in a moment. Eren was far from being done with her.
“Remind me kitten, where were we?”
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ask-anti-cosmo · 4 years ago
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The return of Anti-Cosmo part 2
Part 1
Anti-cosmo stayed in the suite, knowing you had to come back sometime, especially since you told him you were a day out to land. You dreaded coming back to your room but found him on the computer on a social media site.
“Is there a Anti-fairy Facebook page?” you asked sarcastically.
“Anti-Fairies, as well as Fairies, are very well connected believe it or not. You just need to know the right sites to look for. And even then, only magical beings can use it, if you’re mortal you only see a blank page.” He explained, not looking up at you. “Won’t be long now.”
“Won’t be long till what?” you frowned.
“Till my wand comes to me. My subordinates are going to help bring it back here, by magic or whatever means it takes.”
“Where were your subordinates when you were in the safe?” you folded your arms.
“I go off on my own a lot, they probably assumed I was following a chosen victim.” He shrugged and turned away from the screen for a minute to face you.
“Is that how you got in that safe in the first place?” you asked expectantly.
His eye twitches slightly. “Hunting requires risk, surely you know that. They had just set up an…elaborate trap I was completely unprepared for. A descendant from one of my victims. One of the only victims I left alive. No matter, I won’t make the same mistake.” He insisted with dignity.
“Why did you let them live in the first place?” you asked curiously.
He sat quietly before picking up a pencil and started doodling on a nearby notebook. He drew a young girl with ringlets and a frilly dress. She looked almost like a sweet porcelain doll.
“My perfect little Doll…in her perfect little dollhouse...” he said fondly.
“Why did she need your help if she was perfect?” you frowned.
“Her family was so painfully flawed, she was trying to save them from their own stupid actions.” He explained. “Then one day, she decided she was done cleaning up after them, left to make her own perfect house, and sent me away. Most of the time my victims call me back, whether conscious or in their hearts, but she never did. The last I saw her was at a ball she threw. I had a lovely time.” He said, looking at the pictures longingly before starting to sketch another woman.
“Who’s that?”
“She was my date to that ball…” he sighed. “I actually might have fallen in love with her…alas, she was human and it didn’t last. I probably could have granted her my immortality but…” he sighed and set down the pencil. He glanced at the computer screen, looking for a response or message for him.
“But…?” you asked expectantly.
He sighed at your persistence, but smiled. “She slit her wrists one night. Humans have such limited mental capacities, and Misfortune follows in my wake. It was probably inevitable.”
“You couldn’t bring her back with magic?” you asked curiously.
“I am not so cruel, I let the dead stay dead. After all, there are plenty of living to choose from.” He shrugged.
He stayed by the computer for the rest of the trip to the harbor. You found a trench coat to wear that you cut the bottom off to fit him better, and hide the fact that he wasn’t wearing pants. You felt he was your responsibility and lead him to your penthouse in the busy metropolis.
“My my my, not such a fancy pants that you own your own place eh? Just a simple flat?” he teased.
“It’s the best you can get in such a place jack*beep*.” You glared. “Besides it’s not my only one, and I do have a house, just not here.”
“Boring.” He rolled his eyes and checked the phone you gave him to monitor his messages. So far there was still nothing, making him huff.
“Alright now, what is there to do around here?” he asked carelessly.
“Why don’t you go check out my closet? You’d look lovely in one of my ball gowns.” You smirked as you greeted your cat.
Anti-Cosmo rose an eyebrow. “You’re just jealous cause I probably would.” He mumbled. “I doubt you have my color.”
“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself. Like, what’s with the Anti in front of everything?”
“We are Anti-Fairy dear, we are the equal and opposite forces of the regular fairies. Spelling our names backwards to prove that doesn’t always work. For some it does, but it’s often just easier to say Anti.” He stated simply.
“What, so there’s a regular fairy version of you?”
Anti-cosmo cringed slightly. “He’s an absolute idiot. A goodie goodie nuisance to all he meets. I want nothing to do with him.”
“So if you’re opposites, and you’re the annoying one…” you smirked as he shot you a glare. “Also, if you’re an all powerful magical being, why do you need to drink human blood?”
“Mostly to prevent a magic crash.” He shrugged.
“A what?” you frowned.
“Oh dear, do I need to explain what a crash is?” he sighed.
“No I know how drugs work.”
“Not those kind of drugs!” he insisted with annoyance. “I told you I am full of magic in my veins, correct? So are Fairies. Only they can only let so much build up before exploding. So it’s just called ‘magical build up’. They use the wands and become godparents to help expel the magic as well as do, what they hope is good, by making children happy.” He said with disgust.
“And you what? Use your build-up for evil?”
“Have you not been listening? I am the equal and complete opposite power that is my fairy counterpart! Meaning, my magic regenerates when used, but it is usually at max capacity, that’s normal for an anti-fairy. That being said, when I cast a spell, it takes longer to build back up. If I use too much magic, I will run out, causing a magical crash.”
“Do you explode from mortality?” you teased.
“No.” he huffed then stayed quiet for a minute. “…I implode. It is reversible so it’s not possibly to kill us that way.”
“And you drinking blood comes into play where?”
“I’ve discovered that nothing makes ones magic regenerate faster than human blood.” He licked his lips. “ESEPCIALLY the blood of the misfortunate. Just the thought of meeting a poor soul who’s never succeeded in anything makes my mouth water! Anyways, I always use magic, for everything, so it’s convenient to have a blood supply nearby. However I doubt you’ll have the same effect, so after I get my wand back I will be bidding you a fond farewell.”
“Sounds just fine to me.” You huffed.
“So, what to do till then?” Anti-Cosmo said thoughtfully. “Go to a rave? Go night shopping? Hunt for ghosts in the park~?” he smirked and waved his fingers at you.
“How about sleep? It’s been a long exciting day and I’m exhausted.” You huffed and started getting ready for bed.
“Oh, you can sleep when you’re dead!” he whined and pulled at your sleeve.
“Why don’t you get back online and catch up on the past 15 years worth of memes?” you said and got into bed.
“Oh please, nothing could be funnier than the troll faces that say “u mad?”” he waved his hand at you.
“Oh buddy, you’ve got a lot to learn.” You smirked and went to sleep.
He stared at your sleeping form, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Soon my sweet…so I will have my way with you, you lovely immortal thing~” He licked his lips. He then checked for messages for his lackies and found nothing. “*BEEP*.” He pouted.
In the morning, you laid on your back and Anti-Cosmo was flouting above you. You frowned at the sight of his face and turned over. “Its bad enough I’ve had to deal with you till late last night, but now you have to flout over me while I’m asleep like a creeper?” you huffed.
“What can I say? You enchant me.” He said and started walking his fingers up your back. You shivered and swatted his hand away.
“Still nothing from your people?” you asked and sat up
He sighed and leaned back. “No…which is really odd.”
“Maybe you can try again? Post something else?”
“That would make me look whiny and desperate, then more of them would be less inclined to help me.” He huffed. “Besides, I’d much rather wait and possibly get some breakfast.” He said, looking at you hungrily.
“Oh for crying out…don’t even think about it!” you glared and got up. “You want blood, you’ve got to go to the fridge for a bloodbag.” You said as you walked to the closet.
“People healthy enough to donate blood rarely have enough misfortune to satisfy me.” He pouted.
“Boo hoo, you’ll have to have your cocktails AIDS-free then.” You rolled your eyes. “And if that’s the case, my blood would be nowhere near satisfying.”
“You think living eternally alone is a blessing?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. This did stop you in your tracks.
He drifted towards you, suddenly shrinking down and sitting on your shoulder. “Come on now, you got to taste my blood! I’ve never had Vampire blood before, I’m curious!” he urged.
You hesitated dispute knowing you’d get no benefit from this exchange, as well as you know darn well you owed him nothing. Before you could decide however, a ding came from the phone on the bedside.
Anti-Cosmo zoomed to it, growing to his original size as he snatched it up and read the notification. His mouth grew to a twisted grin, his eyes shimmering with joy.
“Ah, Anti-Juandissimo, you never fail me dear friend.” He smirked.
He suddenly stood up and held up his hand. A black wand with a star at the end appeared in his blue skinned hand. His face broke into a villainous grin as he spun it around and gave it a wave. Magic erupted from it and made his old clothes appear on his body, but they were new and pristine. His monocle returned, dangling from his earlobe before swinging up to it’s place over his eye. Small silver jewelry were placed on his clothes, ear, and wing. Lastly a bowler hat flouted above his hair.
He sighed with relief and stretched slightly. “Yes…perfect. I feel whole again~”
“You look like a Magical girl transforming.” You chuckled.
He looked back at you before waving his wand at you. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, smoke surrounded you, and your clothes changed into a vampire themed Magical girl outfit. Short skirt, a cape, even little bat wings on your head. Your costume was also adorned in silver jewelry and mirrored Anti-Cosmo’s black and blue.
“There, now we match.” He smirked.
You tried to pull the skirt down to cover your legs. “What the *Beep*?!” you yelled at him.
“What? You look cute~ oh yes, I have a wish to grant, be right back.” He grinned and vanished.
You huffed in irritation and immediately started stripping the cutesie outfit off. “What an *beep*!” you whispered angrily. “I thought he was awful before the wand…”
Part 3
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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago
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Four Eighths
airing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word count: 4.5K + Warnings: Coarse Language, slight angst, character building (Four), he’s kinda redeemed for being such an ass in the last chapter! If this were a movie, there would be a shopping montage (Preferably with La Roux Bulletproof playing), also very reckless driving (Eight is a god damned bad ass!) 
*Disclaimer, as promised this is a more lighthearted chapter, still with a slight bit of angst, but I feel like that’s just a given when it comes to 6 Underground fics!
Missed Chapters ONE,  TWO and THREE.... Maybe read those first? Might help you understand what’s going on here!
Chapter Four:  I'm having fun, don't put me down
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The trailer door slammed shut behind you, as you stalked towards Five’s trailer, your wet hair being blown in all directions by the sudden gale which had picked up at base. You were mad, you were beyond mad, you were at the point of furious! “Who the fuck does Four think he is? He doesn’t have a fucking clue what I can do!”  You snarl under your breath, not that it made any difference. You could’ve screamed the words from the top of your lungs, and you doubted anyone would hear you over the wind. As you rounded a corner, Five’s trailer came into view, her and Two sat on the steps leading inside, both looking up at you when your shadow cast across them. Your eyes were hidden behind a pair of heart shaped sunglasses, the cheerful eyewear masking the look of rage piercing your eyes. Plastering on a smile, you leant against the side of Five’s trailer, resting your clasped hands behind your back. “Sorry I took so long, sleep kinda happened.” You smirk.
Five waves you off, smiling softly. “No stress, if I were still a medical practitioner, I’d be yelling at you right now to go back to bed, and finish healing.”
“You do that anyway. Medical licence or no…” Two grins, earning a shove in the shoulder from Five.
“That’s beside the point! None of you actually have to listen to me when I tell you do something! When I wore a name badge and stethoscope, people would do exactly as I said!”
“Thanks Five, but really, I’m alright. I don’t need any more sleep. I feel fine.” You grin, feeling your anger slowly ebb away. Five eyes you from head to toe, as if she were expecting a mortal wound to appear somewhere on your person. “Seriously Five, it’s okay. I’m no more injured than I usually am after attacking the punching bag!”
At this, Five cracks a grin, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Two, you’ve turned her into you! Next thing we know, Eight’ll be running around with a gunshot wound in her back, telling us all that she’s fine!”
“How is that possibly a bad thing?” Two gasps, looking between Five and you, a tiny smirk working its way onto her lips. “We need more people like me in the world, and I’m honoured that Eight is just that!”
“Besides, eight is divisible by two! So of course we’re going to end up like each other!” You laugh, kicking one foot up behind you, planting it firmly on the side of the trailer.
“By that logic then, eight is also divisible by four, would that make you and Four similar too?” Five grins. Your breath hitches in your throat, the last thing you want it to think about that arrogant Brit. No, you were nothing alike. You would never question someone’s place on a team before they’d had the opportunity to prove themselves.
“Definitely not. He and I are two very different people.” You answer almost too quickly, both Five and Two noticing your sudden shift in posture. Your back had gone pin straight, and your hands had moved to rest in front of you, fingers locking then unlocking over and over.
Two stands up, stepping over Five who was on the step below her. “Well, I don’t know about you, Eight. But I know that after a good fight, I always like to get a big meal. There’s a diner in town that serves pretty decent food. Ready to head on in?”
Pushing away from the trailer, you nod twice, smiling gently at Two. “That’s sounds great.”
“I’ll get the keys from One, I’ll meet you both at the car.” Five offers, closing her trailer door, and heading towards a shipping container. You were still learning where everything at base was, but if you remembered correctly, the one Five entered was the communal rec room. It was often where One and Seven could be found, battling it out in a game of pool.
*****
The silver McLaren 570S sped down the highway, going well over the speed limit, though considering that you had only passed three other cars the whole time, it didn’t much matter how fast you went. Two had offered to drive, as she claimed to know a short cut to the small town you were visiting, and as it was your first time leaving the base in weeks, Five had offered you sit in the passenger seat to take in the scenery, which you would’ve done had it not been blurring past you at a rate of knots. Eventually, the car slowed down as you entered a small populated town, driving through the quiet street at an acceptable speed. “Where are we stopping first? Shopping or lunch?” Two asks, turning to face Five in the backseat.
Five gazes out the window for a moment, contemplating her answer. “Lunch makes the most sense, it’s the right time for it…”
“I was thinking shopping first. If we eat later in the day, then we’ll have an actual excuse to not have to eat whatever Three makes for dinner tonight.” You offer, tilting your head to the side as you wait for a response.
Two chuckles, nodding her head. “I may like Three, but his cooking is atrocious.”
“Shops first, it is then!” Five grins, as Two drives further down the street, until she pulls into a parking space. The three of you climbing out, before instantly being hit with a sticky, humid breeze, making you all wish you had remained in the air-conditioned car.
The two women lead you down the street, as you look at each of the shops you pass. A few small clothing stores, a grocer, chemist, realtor, arcade, cinema, three diners, one Italian restaurant, and finally you come to a home décor store. “They don’t have much, but it’s enough to make things a little more comfortable.” Five offers with a smile as she pushes the door open for you all.
Inside, the store was set up in multiple different sections. One for bathroom, another for children’s rooms, kitchens, lounge rooms, and of course master bedrooms. Moving further into the store, you leave Two and Five to look through the lounge section, as you make a beeline for the bedroom portion of the store. The store offered just about everything you could possibly need for a bedroom, though as you weren’t in the market for a new bed, or furniture at all for that matter, you were left with only a small portion of the display area to look through. There was a tall floor lamb which you select, along with a matching smaller lamp that you intended to use by your bed. Next came bed sheets, the ones you had been using since you arrived were clearly hand me downs, not that there was an issue with that, but you did want to new ones. Finding a few sets that you liked, and also hoped would fit your mattress, you move on to the more decorative side of things. A string of twinkling fairy lights was added to your basket, along with a cream coloured rectangular rug. As you looked further around, you came across decorative throw cushions, which you quickly snatched up five of, all in different colours and patterns, only to then find a throw blanket which matched one of the five, which you found yourself needing!
Making your way back to the front of the store, you found your travel companions causing a ruckus in the kids room section, where they were attempting to build a fort with the few items available to do so. The store clerk looked as if he was having an aneurism, though he was unable to say anything that would make the women stop. “If only One could see you both now.” You giggle, heading over with your arms and basket full of décor.
Two pokes her head up from behind their fort, smirking at you. “Why do you say that?”
“When he was telling me about all of you after we first met, he told me I had to behave well around you two, because you were the adults of the team.”
Five bursts into laughter, as Two joins in with her own giggles. “Fuck One, he sees what he wants to see when it comes to us! He wouldn’t notice if we walked around with fake moustaches drawn on!” Five gasps, shaking her head fondly.
“One time, during a briefing, Seven didn’t show up, but instead stuffed a jacket with paper, and blew up a balloon and put it under the jackets hood. He set it up perfectly, it actually looked like someone was asleep on the table! Unless you got too close, then it was obvious what was going on. One got through the whole meeting, and only when everyone stood to leave, and the fake Seven didn’t, did he notice something was wrong!” Two has a fond look in her eyes as she tells you her story. “If he thinks we’re the adults, then that’s fine, but we know the truth!”
A part of you longs to stay with the women, and help them build their fort, but the other part of you feels the urge to rescue the poor store clerk. Turning to face him, you smile kindly. “Hi there, could I grab these all please?”
The young boy blinks in shock, tearing his gaze away from the two grown women destroying the store. “Uh- sure! Just follow me.”
You do as he says and follow him to the register, he looks no older that fifteen or sixteen perhaps, and clearly has had no experience with dealing with a situation like this. As the youth reads out your total, you smile and pull out the credit card from your purse. Two had handed it to you before you left, saying that is was One’s card, and was only to be used for the essentials. When you had asked if shopping for your tailer counted as an essential, she had looked directly in your eyes and said, that home decorating was the only essential. “Can you add an extra 70 bucks to the total please?”
The boy blinks at you in surprise, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Why’d you wanna do that?”
You shrug lightly, twirling the card between your fingers. “Because I feel bad for the mess my friends have made. Figure this might make up for it a bit.”
He doesn’t question you again and does as told, presenting you with your new total, to which you happily pay.  By the time the small items had been bagged up, you were left with two lamps in large boxes, and a rolled-up rug to try and figure out how to carry out to the car. “Oi ladies! Leave the poor shop alone and come gimme a hand here!” You yell across the store, hearing the giggling from the two women cease.
*****
Loading your purchases into the car had been one hell of a hassle, while the McLaren was built for speed, it was certainly not built with the intention of ever using the trunk! After much swearing, and the threat of returning the rug, the three of you had managed to get everything safely inside, slamming the trunk closed, with the vow to not open it again until you were back at base. Next, came a very late lunch. It was well after three when you entered the diner, only a handful of other patrons there at the odd time of your arrival. A middle aged woman with flaming red hair directed the three of you to a booth at the back of the diner, handing out plastic menu’s. You all placed your orders, heeding Five’s warning and staying well away from the nachos. “Four had them once, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so unwell…” She had advised, to which although the thought of Four being sick did spark joy in you, you would rather not find out if it was a one-off thing or not.
Once your meals were handed out, conversation flowed freely between the three of you, no question was off limits now that you were away from the base and One’s prying eyes. “Alright Eight, I’ve been trying to figure it out all afternoon, but I just can’t. So you’re going have to answer it for me. What’s the go with Four? When we mentioned him back at base, I genuinely thought you were about to cry, or scream. Maybe even both…” Five begins, dabbing the corner of mouth with a napkin.
You pray that the ground will open up and swallow you whole, at least then you’d have an excuse for not answering. Of course, they had noticed your reaction earlier, you’d never been good at hiding your emotions, your dad used to warn you to never play poker! Both as an anti-gambling campaign, but also because he knew that if you did, everyone would know straight away if you were bluffing or not. You look  across at Two, who although has her mouthful, looks just as curios as Five does. Sighing deeply, you rest your elbows on the table, hissing quietly as you press against a bruise you didn’t know you had. “I’m just tired of the way he’s been treating me is all.”
“Wow, that was so informative. I feel so enlightened! Thank you so much for sharing such a heart wrenching story with us, I know that must’ve been hard for you.” Two grumbles, glaring at you over her meal. You had hoped that maybe they would accept such a basic offer, but apparently that wasn’t the case.
“It’s just that he’s been ignoring me since I arrived! Every time I try to talk to him, he just pretends he can’t hear me, and then there’s the times when I’m talking to someone else! He walks right up to us, and just starts talking over the top of me, no apology or anything!”
Five clears her throat, looking at you softly. “I don’t think he means anything by it Eight. He was like that with all of us when we first met him, he just seems to take a while to warm up to new people is all.”
At that, you can’t help but laugh, causing the two women to look at you in surprise. Out of all the reactions you could’ve had to Five’s comment that was not one they had expected. “Is there more that you’re not telling us?” Two presses on, placing her fork down and giving you her full attention now.
Your fingers comb through your hair, pushing the sweaty strands away from your scalp. “I uh- overheard him talking, or rather shouting with One today.”
“Bloody hell, those two fight like cats and dogs sometimes, you’ll get used to it eventually.” Two shrugs, leaning back to press herself against the booth’s chair more comfortably
You shake your head, breathing out deeply. “No, it’s not that. Christ I couldn’t give a flying fuck whether they scream at each other all the time or not, what I do care about though, is the way he talks about me when I’m not around.” You take a sip of your ice water, the cool glass rather soothing against your palm. “He was questioning One as to why I’m here. He thinks that what I do is pointless, and that I shouldn’t be a part of the team. Apparently, you don’t need a hacker, and that having me around is a liability. Then he accused the fight today of being a fluke, basically saying the Three was an easy take down for me! Oh, and then there was this whole thing about you needing a driver instead of me, and when One said that the team would continue taking it in turns of being the getaway driver, he basically said that I wouldn’t be able to drive a getaway vehicle even if I wanted to!” By the time you finish you feel fresh tears clawing at the backs of your eyes. You squeeze your lids shut, until you feel the need to sob subside.
With your eyes shut, you don’t see the looks exchanged between Two and Five, who were conducting a silent conversation, with you none the wiser. “Eight, I’m not trying to excuse Four’s behaviour, or his comments. But there’s something you should know.” Five sighs, resting a comforting hand over your shoulder, smiling gently when you look at her beside you. “Four, well he’s been part of the team for a while, he joined well before I did, so he’s come to know a fair few people in his time with the Ghosts. By now, you’ve probably realised that there’s a number missing in our team, Six. He was with us for our first mission in Florence, but things didn’t end well, and he didn’t make it. Four and Six, they were practically joined at the hip, despite what One always told us, warning us to never get too close to each other, they did anyways. They were best friends! Six was our driver, and when he was with us, you could always find the two of them dicking around, going for joy rides, just being overall stupid young boys, but at least they were having fun. When Six died, it hit Four like a ton of bricks, for weeks he kept to himself, he disappeared for nearly two weeks, none of us had any idea where he went, we still don’t. But then, he suddenly returned, and begun acting as if nothing had changed. Even though, in his world, everything had.”
A crease forms between your brows as you watch Five, tears are brimming in her eyes, but just like you, she’s too stubborn to let them fall. “Since then, Four’s been, different. He puts on a brave face, but we all know that there’s something eating him from the inside out. But he refuses to talk about it, and we can’t force him to. One uses it to his advantage, reminding us that this is why we don’t form attachments, but we don’t listen to him. Forming attachments keeps us human, even if it hurts sometimes.”
You blink slowly, taking in Five’s words, a deep pang of sympathy pounding in your chest. All of what you had just been told, it made sense to why Four was so quick to defend Six when he was arguing with One earlier. “I get that he’s been hurt, and that maybe he doesn’t know how to deal with the loss of Six. But why is he taking it out on me?”
This time, it’s Two who answers you, drumming her long fingers on the table. “He’s doing exactly what One has been telling us to do for years, not making attachments. He would rather have you hate him, than to get close to you, and have something happen. He can’t do the same with the rest of us, he’s known us too long now. But you? You’re new, he doesn’t know anything about you, and if he can keep it that way, then neither of you will be hurt if another mission ends badly.”
“But that doesn’t explain why he was talking about me like that to One! If he was saying it directly to me, then sure, I’d understand because yeah, I really am close to hating him after those comments. But when he was talking to One, he didn’t know I was there!”
“You didn’t have to be there. Gossip travels quickly when there’s only seven of us around, secrets don’t stay secret for long. One way or another we all find everything out. Four knows this as well as the rest of us do. Anything that he says to One about you, will eventually get around base until it reaches you. This time, the process just skipped a step, and went straight to you, before the rest of us found out.” Two offers with a tired shrug.
You pick at the remainder of your meal, mulling over this new information, unsure of how to process all of it at once. The table grows quiet, the three of you all lost in your own thoughts. “So Four doesn’t hate me really…. And, he doesn’t think that I have no place in the team?”
“I can’t guarantee anything, but I’d bet you fifty bucks that that’s exactly right. He doesn’t know you; he can’t hate you.” Five laughs, and you feel some tension leave your shoulders, finally feeling somewhat relaxed for the first time in weeks.
Biting down on your bottom lip, you gaze across at Two, then at Five, both of whom raise their eyebrows, they could see the cogs in your mind turning, but they had no idea what plan you were formulating. “I may not be able to do much to change this situation. But the least I can do is prove him wrong.”
“What’ve you got in mind Eight?” Two smirks, sitting up straight and pushing her plate to the side of the table.
*****
If you thought the McLaren was travelling fast on your way into town, then the drive out meant you were practically flying! The leather steering wheel was soft against your hands as you swerved in between cars, paying little to no mind as to which lane of the freeway you were legally supposed to be driving on. “Jesus Christ Eight! Would you mind not killing us please?” Two gasped, as you narrowly avoided a head on collision with a semi as you overtook a Winnebago, despite her vocal protests at your erratic driving, the sparkle in her eyes proved that she was enjoying the ride just as much as you were.
Five however was not having a grand time, and looked to be on the verge of carsick. “Eight, there are breakable things in the back of this car! Please slow down! Think of the lamps!”
You look at Five through the rear-view mirror, raising your eyebrows behind you heart glasses. “Why have the speedometer go this high if you can’t drive that fast?” You challenge, pressing down on the accelerator further, the engine revving in a delicious purr.
Whereas on the way into town, even with Two speeding as she was, the trip had still taken forty-five minutes. This time around, you were easily halfway back to base, and had only been driving for fifteen minutes. “Fucking hell Eight, we’re supposed to be dead! What happens if the police pull you over? How do you explain that three dead women are currently driving at a highly illegal speed down a freeway?” Five tries again, though it only causes you to laugh, even Two was finding the whole ordeal rather humorous.
Watching Five in the mirror, you see her open her mouth, ready to ask you to slow down again. Before she has the chance, you flick the radio on, the opening psychedelic tune of Devin Townsend’s True North urging you to speed along further. The music soaks into your entire being, and as you drive, singing along, you find yourself not caring what anyone thought of you in this very moment. You were truly living your best life, and there were genuinely no consequences for doing so.
 *****
 Four had once again cornered One, or so he thought.  Four was under the impression, that if he yelled loud enough, that One would listen to what he had to say and would kick you out of the team. For three weeks now, he’d been trying to think of different ways to prove that you weren’t a good fit with the rest of the Ghosts, but nothing he said seemed to deter One’s line of thought. None of them had a bloody clue what the next mission was, but according to One, you would be necessary. Four failed to see how, there was nothing you could do, that the others couldn’t. Sure, they would need a bit of training to get there, and to be able to get things done as quickly as you did, but he was positive that he could hack into a museum’s security cameras just as quickly as you supposedly had!
“I’m not having this discussion with you again Four.” One groaned, rubbing at his forehead with his thumb and index finger.
“But you’re not bloody listening! What if she double crosses us? Instead of breaking into a computer to steal the information we need, what if she sends it to someone else? Or gives away our location and plans?”
“Why? Why would she do that? Who would she send them to? According to all official documents, she’s dead. Just like the rest of us. There’s literally no one out there who would make a deal with a dead person, just on the off chance they actually delivered on their promises!”
Four frowned deeply, his brows furrowed and scar pulsing in his frustration. Why was this so difficult? Why couldn’t One just listen to him for once? All he wanted, truly, was for you to be safe, and to return to your old life! As glamourous as One had likely talked up the life of a Ghost, it truly wasn’t all it was cracked up to be! No one else should be subjected to this life, there was too much pain and death involved with this way of living, and you had no reason to experience it.
From behind the two men, a cloud of dust could be seen rapidly approaching, red clouds of dirt billowing around until they parted in lieu of the speeding McLaren. One moment it was miles away from the men, and the next, he could feel the heat radiating from the car as it breezed past him, before performing a donut, and coming to halt with the bonnet facing him. The tyre marks in the dirt showed just how perfect a stop the car had come to, there was no fishtailing, just clean tracks. Five was the first to emerge from the car, pressing a hand to cover her eyes, while the other rest atop the car door. Two pulled herself out next, grinning between him and One, before turning and popping the trunk. Finally, out you came, from the driver’s side no less, a cocky grin plastered to your lips as you waved at One, raising an arched eyebrow up at Four.
“Jesus Eight, I said you could drive home! Not warp us here!” Five groaned, as she helped you and Two collect things from the trunk of the car.
“Right, so who the fuck taught you to drive like that then?” One yelled out, earning a grin from you in his direction.
“When you run perpetually late like I do, and go to school on the opposite side of the city, you learn how to navigate traffic pretty damned quickly.” You quip back, slamming the trunk closed, and pocketing the keys. You, Two and Five all making your way towards your trailer.
“Don’t. Don’t fucking say it One.” Four warns, holding up a hand to the grinning man before him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about? I wasn’t going to say anything. Especially not anything about how impressive Eight’s driving skills are.” One shrugs, eyebrows raised in a look of utter innocence.
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Chapter Five out now
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deejadabbles · 5 years ago
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Crime and Consequence (Atem x Reader) Chapter Three
Three: The Namesake
One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// [Five coming soon]
Summary: Years have passed since Atem's crimes came to light. Years have passed, but in some cases the wounds of that time were still fresh. Despite that, however, you've done your best to rebuild your life for you...and for your son. So, when Atem's crimes come back to hurt you and your boy, how will you survive and protect what little you have left?
Years have passed since Atem last saw you. Years have passed, and he had never been able to meet his son. Despite that, Atem carried on with his life, as limited and meaningless as it was, locked away for his crimes. So, when a threat is made against the only ones he still holds dear, how will he defend the love of his life and his boy?
(Modern, season 0 inspired AU. Contains some disturbing themes, depictions of violence, cursing/vulgar language, and sexual content.)
A.N. At first I intended for this chapter to cover something completely different, for it to just jump into the action, but then I got caught up in some of the emotions I imagined for this series and...yeah. So, it'll be another chapter until things start heating up, I'm sorry lol. I guess it also doesn't help that I keep thinking of more stuff I want to add to this series, even though I intended it to be kinda short at first *shrug emoji* Anyway, hopefully you guys still like this chapter!
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A fit of coughing brought you out of your stupor, eyes snapping open and darting to the man walking beside you. Yes, walking, you had been half asleep but still managed to walk down the street with your son and surrogate grandfather.
Sugoroku’s face turned pink before his coughing died down, and he took a sharp intake of breath as you rubbed his back in comfort.
“Have you been taking your medicine?” you asked gently, and the old man offered you a small smile.
“Every morning and evening. Don’t worry about me, my dear.”
That was impossible. Even without your innate compassion, one of the things that made you a good nurse, this man had been invaluable to you in the past years, a life preserver that had kept you and your son afloat; how could you not worry about someone you cared so much for?
“I’m going to send you some instructions on breathing exercises that might help, since your doctor didn’t seem to bother giving them to you.”
Again with that reassuring smile, Sugoroku patted your hand with affection, “It pays to have a nurse in the family when you’re this old,” he laughed at his own joke and looked ahead again, though the sidewalk was hardly crowded.
The tiny fingers around your other hand tightened and you looked down at Yugi, who was giving his great-grandfather a concerned look with his soft lavender eyes. When you gave him a gentle nudge, he looked up at you and seemed to ease with the assuring smile you gave him.
“Don’t worry, grandpa!” Yugi said, that bright expression on his face, the one that could warm even the most dour of moods. “We’ll be there soon and then you can sit down and take a nap!”
You and Sugoroku chuckled at that, “Hey now, I may be old but I don’t need a nap after every walk!” After a moment his eyes darted up to you, likely taking in the dark circles that seemed to be a constant accessory of your face. “Besides, I’m thinking that you’re needing a nap more than me.”
You only answered with a shrug. Sure, visiting friends after a ten-hour shift might take its toll, but you’d be damned if you gave up this time with the people you considered family.
Barely a minute later the three of you finally reached your destination and rang the doorbell to Mai and Jonouchi’s apartment. A loud call to ‘come on in’ answered from inside and your trio were greeted by half a dozen people a moment later.
As you had expected, Honda elbowed Duke out of the and crouched low, extending his arms to Yugi, “Come give your favorite uncle a hug!” he said, though was immediately toppled over by Jonouchi, donning an apron.
“As if! If anyone’s getting a hug first, it’s me!”
This was a typical routine at these get-togethers, everyone doting on little Yugi and making a friendly game of claiming they were the little one’s favorite. You had to stifle an outright guffaw as both men’s hopes came crashing when Anzu, always one to take matters into her own hands, simply stepped up and scooped a happily squealing Yugi into her arms.
“I’m the one who’s been on tour for three months, so I get the first hug!” she declared before planting a kiss on Yugi’s cheek and earning tiny arms flung around her neck in an embrace.
As Yugi went on about how much he missed his Auntie Anzu, both Honda and Jonouchi muttered their annoyance. Anzu also took the time to give you and Sugoroku hugs, though never let the little guy go. Only when everyone wandered back to their seats and Jonouchi was dragged back into the kitchen by his sister did Anzu finally set Yugi down, promising him that if he was patient, she would give him a present she had bought him while on tour.
The look she cast your way after the words silently told you that she was wanting to talk to you about something too. So, after Yugi proudly stated that he would be good and patient as long as it took to get his present, you gently told him to go sit on the couch with Ryou and Mai so you could have a more private word with your old friend.
“How’ve you been?” she asked, eyes darkening just a bit with worry.
Much like you had with Sugoroku, you shrugged, “About the same as usual, I guess.”
Anzu nodded, “Jonouchi told me what happened with that yuppy school, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, we’ll figure something out, we always do.” When you smiled to reassure her, she smiled back before waving you over to the chair set you two usually sat in.
“I cleaned out an old storage unit before I left on tour, and I found something that I wanted to give out to everyone, just didn’t have a chance to before I left.” From her purse, she withdrew a framed picture. She gave it a look over, something warm and affectionate, but still somber crossing her eyes before she handed it to you. “I found it in an old school binder, it's better than most of the pictures from then.”
Your eyes went wide the moment they fell on the photo, and your chest gave a small ache that was bittersweet. You, Jonouchi, Honda, Anzu, and the first Yugi, the man you had considered a brother, all smiled back from the picture. All of you were young and awkward-looking, preteens about to enter high school, pulling silly faces at the camera and hanging on to each other with youthful giddiness. It wasn’t a surprise when your eyes focused mostly on the friend who had been taken from you just three short years after the photo was captured. Yugi was blushing slightly, squished between you and Anzu with Jonouchi leaning on his back, but his smile was so bright and happy- elated that he got to share this moment with good and dear friends.
“Thank you, Anzu,” you said, and looked up at her with genuine gratitude, “I have a few pictures like this, but, not enough.”
The woman nodded, a look of understanding answering you, “Yeah, none of us have enough.”
A moment later, Anzu was distracted by Mai, who was telling her to back her up with a light argument that had started between her and Honda. When she got up to assist, it left you to look down at the picture a few moments longer, letting yourself get lost in old memories. The background was Yugi’s old room, a setting all of you remembered well, trading cards and stacks of video games littering the floor behind you.
However, the longer you looked, the more you realized that the photo may have been taken just days- perhaps even the same day, that you had met Atem.
“No way!” Jonouchi scoffed, eyes narrowing at Anzu.
The brunette simply crossed her arms in defiance, “Yes way, pay up, jerk face!”
You laughed, loving the nearly scandalized look on said ‘jerk face’s’ face. “She beat you fair and square, you better pay up.”
“Come on, dude, be a man and just admit defeat,” Honda yawned, obviously eager to get his turn on the Nintendo console next.
Jou turned to face Yugi, who was trying and failing to hide his amusement at the situation. “Yug, back me up here, she cheated!”
“Excuse me!?” Anzu yelled, making the blonde jump and wince.
Yugi didn’t hide his laughter that time and, in the moment of Jou’s distraction, he threw you a knowing wink. “She didn’t cheat, Jonouchi, she just played the game,” he assured.
“And ripped your head off in the process,” you laughed, admiring the words ‘fatality’ flashing across the screen.
Finally, Jou conceded and handed over the crumpled dollar bills Anzu had won in her Mortal Kombat victory. You might have felt sympathy for your male friend, considering you and Anzu had both improved your skills by battling Yugi, the practical master of the game, over the weekend. But, considering Jounouchi had said something about girls never being able to beat his skills, you didn’t feel bad at all.
In fact, you challenged him next and said that if you beat him in the first round, he’d have to bow before you and Anzu and acknowledge you as video game queens. Always a prideful young man, he had of course accepted.
Halfway through the battle, Yugi excused himself, promising to come back with snacks, much to everyone’s delight. Not two minutes later the bet was settled. You won, of course, also decapitating Jonouchi’s character with the final move you had practiced over and over again with Yugi.
After you and an equally smirking Anzu took a moment to tease the bowing Jounouchi, you noticed that Yugi hadn’t come back yet and instantly hopped up to go help him.
After padding into the kitchen you saw that Yugi was rummaging through the fridge, back turned and unsuspecting to your presence. A smirk crossed your face as a childish idea came to mind. With careful steps, you crept closer to the unwitting Yugi and the moment you were close enough, you threw your arms around his back in a bear hug.
“You wouldn't believe the look on his face when I beat him, it was priceless!” you cheered as you tried to lift him up.
It was then that you took notice to Yugi being...quite a bit taller than you remembered. A confused noise left him, followed by a stuttered something that might have been ‘excuse me?’ and it caused you to pull back and look up (up!) at his face.
Heat flooded your cheeks when you were met by a pair of eyes that were similar to, but very different from your cute, shy friend. His whole face looked a bit more mature, again he was taller, and he was looking back at you with complete shock.
“Oh!” You instantly released him and jumped back as if burned. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were Yugi!”
The red-faced boy blinked at you as you tried to smooth over the scene with an awkward laugh, and thankfully, a moment later, he gave his own shy smile. “It’s okay, people confuse us a lot.”
“You must be Atem,” you hurried on, desperate to dissipate the lingering awkwardness, “Yugi talks about you all the time.”
Indeed he did. Yugi’s brother was two years his senior, and Yugi had been hoping to introduce you and the others to him for some time. Yugi always said that his brother was typically busy studying, usually at the library when any of you came over and the book bag slung on the counter supported that. With the way Yugi went on about his big brother, you honestly had started to envision him as some sort of dashing hero straight out of an anime.
Of course, when Atem’s shy smile turned to more of a knowing smirk, that vision didn’t exactly prove false. Oh dang, he was really cute!
“Yes, I’m Atem, and you must be one of the friends my brother raves about, he’s been hoping for us to meet. So, are you Anzu or-”
You interrupted him with your name, practically yelling it, and the moment the introduction left your lips you cringed, almost wanting to curl up in a ball of shame for the awkward terribleness of your action. The heck was wrong with you?!
Clearing your throat you repeated your name, much more calmly and evenly that time, and willfully ignored the burning sensation across your cheeks.
Thankfully, Atem seemed to be every bit the gentleman Yugi painted him to be, because he only gave a lighthearted chuckle at your awkwardness, then nodded his head, that smirk turning more warm as he said, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
He stared at you a moment, then opened his mouth to say something more, only to be interrupted by a cheerful voice. “Atem, you’re home!” When you both turned, you saw Yugi coming down the hallway, practically beaming at you both. “And you’ve already met one of the gang!”
“I have. I’m glad I’ve finally come home early enough to meet your friends,” Atem said, eyes shifting back to you and lingering, “I hope we can become friends too.”
You smiled back at him, “Don’t worry, if you’re half as cool as Yugi, I’m sure me and the others are going to love you!” you made sure to flash Yugi a wink, wanting to giggle at how he instantly turned red at the compliment.
Electing to ignore your words, Yugi stepped into the kitchen and started pulling chips from the cupboard. “Come on, help me pick out some snacks and you can come play video games with us, Atem.”
The older brother, who was smirking again, obliged by nodding his head and turning back to the fridge. A few moments later he drew back with some dip and canned drinks, to which you instantly jumped in to help carry.
“So, you’re in Yugi’s class, right?” Atem asked as the three of you turned towards the hallway and started back to Yugi’s room. “That means you’ll be starting at Domino High in just a few months?”
You nodded, “Yup! First year of high school, pretty exciting! I’m glad all of us are going to the same school, it’d suck to find awesome friends just to go to separate schools later.”
Something in Atem’s gaze seemed to soften a bit, and a brief question passed your mind, wondering (maybe even hoping?) if he was already becoming fond of you.
“Well, if you- or if any of Yugi’s friends need help getting used to the school when you start, please, don’t hesitate to ask me.”
Again some warmth crept onto your face. Maybe it was just the allure of a ‘mature high school boy’ being so nice to you (ridiculous, considering he was barely two years older than you) but this Atem boy was already seeming to have an..interesting affect on you.
“I- yeah, sure thing!”
A sudden voice made you jump in your seat and your head snapped around up, gaze tearing away from the photo to meet a pair of green eyes. Duke was leaning against the back of your chair, looking down at you with that trademark almost soft, almost flirty look on his face.
“Sorry- uh, what’d you say?” you asked, trying to recollect yourself.
“The picture, I said I was hoping to find out that Honda used to wear braces of something,” he flicked a finger to the photo still clutched tightly in your hand, but the joke fell flat on your now melancholy mood.
Still, you managed to smile at him and joke as well, “Nope, just the general awkwardness of the teenage years.”
He snerked at that, but his eyes narrowed, possibly sensing the cover-up. Though Duke (like Ryou and Mai) had joined your close-knit friend group later, in high school, he too knew what it had been like to lose Yugi; to go through that tragedy. But he also knew that it had hit you particularly hard.
“You okay?” he asked, voice lowering so only you could hear, “You look exhausted. Beautiful, as always, but exhausted.”
Another concerned friend. Another who wanted to help, but, though you were endlessly thankful for the support, truth be told there wasn’t really much they could do. So again, you shrugged.
“Just long hours at work, as usual. I’ll be okay when tomorrow comes round.”
“You still go to the park with the little guy on your days off?” Duke asked and you nodded in answer.
Only when the weather turned bad did you not go, and even on those days you made sure to make time to spend with Yugi. It was hard to keep up with him some days, even given your own young age, but he needed to know that you were there for him. That he would never be ignored or pushed aside, despite how tirelessly you had to work.
“Speaking of our favorite kiddo,” Duke began in your silence, taking the chair beside you with a graceful plop, “there was something I wanted to ask you.” He looked you in the eyes, as if asking permission, and when you nodded he went on. “So, there’s this gaming convention going on in New York in a couple months, I’m going so I can promote my new game and...I wanted to ask if you wanted to come.”
Despite your eyes going a bit wide at the suggestion, Duke hurried on, though always keeping that cool and calm air of his.
“I just thought it’d be good, for you and Yugi. You haven’t been able to take a proper vacation in years, and you deserve- need a break. I can book the hotel for a few extra days after the con, and we can do all sorts of stuff in the city. And don’t worry, I can cover all the expenses, all you and Yugi have to do is come.”
You were speechless, struck dumb by the bold proposal. You weren’t oblivious, you had always suspected that Duke’s high school crush on you never completely faded. He was always offering his help, always showing that he was good with Yugi, maybe even subtly hinting that he didn’t mind the role of stepfather. Still, he never crossed too many lines and had never done something quite this...forward. Though you guessed he wasn’t actually implying any romantic motives.
Instead of becoming nervous over your silence, Duke’s smile just softened a bit, perhaps slightly disappointed, but not outright annoyed or even discouraged. “No pressure, I just wanted to make the offer. You and Yugi deserve some fun and I saw a good opportunity for it. You can think about it as long as you need, just, promise me you will think about it?”
For a moment, you only answered him with more stunned silence, but after a second to recover, you closed your eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Duke, I promise I’ll think about it.”
Some hope returned to that smile, and he nodded in turn. He might have said more on the matter, but a call of “Mommy!” drew your attention. A second later Yugi was climbing into your lap with the grace of a newborn fawn, waving an odd-looking box around.
“Mom, lookie what Antie Anzu gave me! Isn’t it awesome?”
“Really, you had to give it to him right before dinner?” Jonouchi griped as he stepped out of the kitchen, casting a vexed look at a proud Anzu while drying his hands off on his apron.
The blonde acting like an annoyed grandma actually made you laugh. “Don’t worry, Jonouchi, he can play with it while I make his plate, then he can put it away until he’s done eating.”
At the compromise, one that Yugi didn’t seem to object too (he had always loved his Uncle Jou’s cooking, after all), the man sighed and waved everyone into the kitchen. “Alrighty then, come on, all, dinner’s served!”
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Atem worked with swift and methodical hands. The very little that he had in his cell, all of it was being implemented in the plan that his mind had laid out in minutes, and refined over these past two days. The lighter he had stolen from Ushio was tucked in his sleeve, and all the numerous fan letters he had received in his imprisonment were laid out before him.
Fan letters, Atem didn’t particularly care for the term, but that’s what they were.
Letters from people who had their loved ones taken from them by the vermin Atem wiped from the world. From survivors who still struggled from what was done to them, but slept at least a fraction more soundly knowing Atem had rid the streets of their abusers. Then still others from people who simply thought he was a hero, a dark avenging angel, like Batman or the Punisher.
Over the years he had been thankful for the letters because they helped him keep his mind, stuck in this isolating hole, and now they would help him save his family. Anything could become a weapon in the hands of someone who was determined or desperate enough.
And Atem had both in spades.
For instance, fold enough pieces of paper in the right shape a certain number of times, and they became as sturdy and reliable as a metal ice pick. Well, sort of. He could get one, maybe two if he was quick, fatal injuries out of it before the blood soaked through and made it a limp, useless mess. But he didn’t intend to need it for anything more than that, so this would do just fine.
He mused as he worked, wondering if his admirers who thought he was some righteous knight would think it fitting or honorable to have their letters used against criminals. Used so he could have a chance at stopping drug peddling filth from laying hands on his loved ones.
The only things that were left untouched in his cell, were the four pictures he treasured, your letters, and the few letters his grandfather had sent him.
His grandfather, yet another person he had betrayed, another person burdened by Atem’s sins. Atem had been surprised when his grandpa contacted him, and even more surprised by what that letter said. In essence, he had said that as a man, he wished Atem had never started his bloody mission, but, as a brokenhearted grandfather who had to bury his too gentle and too young grandson, he understood and forgave Atem’s actions. “I won’t pretend I didn’t feel a sick sense of justice when that beast was found dead,” Sugoroku had written, “Not after what he did to my, to our Yugi.”
He had also promised to take care of you and the child you were carrying as much as he could, and Atem felt at least the sparks of happiness knowing he hadn’t left you completely alone. Not that the solace lasted long in this pit that swallowed hope and humanity like a ravenous dog, but still, it helped. “She had to move out of the apartment, too many people leaving death threats on her door and throwing rocks through the windows, but she’s okay. She’ll live with me for now, and hopefully this old man can still take care of a baby while she’s at work and such. Don’t worry, Atem, we’ll be okay.”
Unfortunately, in order to maintain a distance from Atem that was important to his, yours, and Yugi’s future, his grandfather’s correspondence were even more infrequent than yours. But, at least the man who had been more a father to him than his birth father kept him informed on your well being; something you had always omitted from your own letter, always only talking about Yugi. “She works too hard,” grandpa’s last letter from over two years ago had said, “I tried to get her to stay here, with me, but she has this idea that her and Yugi are a burden on me, and wants to be more independent now that Yugi’s a little older. At least she still lets me watch him several times a week, but I still worry. You can tell she wants to give that boy the whole world, always making him laugh and smile, spoiling him as much as she can. You picked a good one, Atem.”
The updates were always bittersweet, simultaneously leaving Atem with a sour taste in his mouth but an elated lightness in his chest. The words connected him to you, made him able to feel like he was still a part of your life, at least by proxy, much like your letters about Yugi did. But, at the same time, they made regret and anger and even some palpable self-loathing coarse through him like poison.
At least with this, this daring plan and mission to protect you, at least with this he might prevent any more harm from being done.
Atem examined his weapons; three simple picks, methodically made and more than enough for his plan. He tucked them up his sleeve with the lighter, folding the cuffs just right to hide them. He still had some time before the guards came to escort him outside, for his minimal privilege of sunlight.
With that time Atem pulled out the things he treasured even above yours and grandpa’s letters; his pictures. The first, the one of his newborn son wrapped in the softest purple blanket. The second, a picture of his boy on his second birthday, icing all over his face, smile wide, and bright with youthful glee as he presented his still wrapped present to the camera. The third, also of his son, excited eyes wide and held in the arms of his great-grandpa as the old man presented him with a deck of trading cards; it was the one you had sent with your last letter, almost a year ago.
The final one was the only picture Sugoroku had sent Atem. It wasn’t one of his son, but rather, of himself and the boy his son was named after. A younger, happier, perhaps more stable, version of Atem smiled a small smile at the camera, holding his diploma in one hand, while the other was wrapped around his little brother’s shoulder, said brother side hugging him back and beamed with pride. Sugoroku had said he made a copy, knowing Atem would treasure having a picture of the first Yugi, and the old man was all too right.
Atem stared at the picture now, eyes locked on the large round ones of his little brother, the boy he had wanted to protect and champion for- the boy he had failed. He had failed to do what big brothers should always do. When Yugi needed him most, Atem hadn’t been there to save him.
It hurt. Gods damn him, did it still hurt. But at least in this picture, in this captured moment before the beginning to his end, he could remember a happier time. A happier him.
“My boy’s growing up too fast!” Sugoroku cried after snapping the picture of his grandsons, wiping a fake tear away with a dramatic sigh.
The two boys exchanged a look that bordered eye-rolls as they parted from the hug, but Yugi’s beaming grin was back in an instant. “Come on, time to let everyone else embarrass you with congratulations!” he said, taking the diploma from Atem’s hands and setting it safely on the kitchen counter.
Yugi practically dragged Atem into the living room, where all those gathered cheered and clapped the moment they entered. Atem scanned the room, noting that everyone in ‘the gang’ was there, which made him smile. Unfortunately, the only other ones in the room were a couple of neighbors who had always liked the Mutou family. One key player was missing, not that Atem had expected any better.
“He said that he couldn't make it back from Tokyo in time,” Yugi whispered to him, noticing the way Atem’s eye’s searched. Yes, couldn’t, so wouldn't bother coming home at all, most likely. Honestly, their father could be the poster boy for ‘absent parent of the year’.
Still, Atem made himself push the tendrils of disappointment aside and patted Yugi on the back. At least everyone else important to him was there, and Atem would make sure that was enough.
Yugi was determined to do the same, apparently, because he quickly began ushering Atem into the room while the rest of the gang stood up to greet him more intimately. It was only after Jonouchi gave his arm a light punch, and Anzu gave him a hug, that Atem took notice of something else his little brother might be scheming. Especially when Yugi practically shoved him in your direction, saying that the seat beside you was reserved just for him.
Atem felt his mind go blank when he locked eyes with you, especially with that sweet, beaming, and very (very) cute smile on your face. “I’m so happy for you!” you said and put your arms around him in a loose hug.
Still faltering, something he had never really experienced until you, Atem could only answer with a short thank you and an awkward pat on your back. When you sat back down and urged him to take the seat next to you, Atem didn’t waste the chance to shoot a narrowed look at his little brother.
Yugi only grinned back at him knowingly and passed out drinks to the other guests as if he hadn’t done anything. Always one to be in-tune with the emotions of others (especially his big brother), Yugi had noticed when Atem’s feelings for you started to shift passed friendship, likely before even Atem himself had known. It was true that Atem was fond of you...more fond than he had been of anyone before; you made his chest warm, and his heart accelerate. You drew him in without even trying, with your voice or smile alone. You made him unsure of himself, made him flounder in a way he had never experienced before. He was certain that he was falling quite deeply in love with you.
But, there was little he could do, and nothing he would do about those feelings. You were still in high school, and now that he was of age, a legal man entering adulthood, it felt wrong to have those feelings for you, and he refused to do anything that even had the possibility of taking advantage of you. And of course, not only did it feel wrong, but it was also now technically illegal to do much of anything about his feelings. Besides wallow in them and silently suffer, of course.
Despite telling Yugi all of that, the boy was still determined to “test the boundaries” and “lay the groundworks” for the day that Atem was able and willing to do something about his feelings. To Atem, the acts were equal parts annoying, and endearing. Part of him hated that he was forced to confront his feelings for you when Yugi meddled, feelings that made his mind muddled and his chest ache. But still, another part of him appreciated Yugi’s attempts, appreciated that he had this...excuse to get closer to you, to revel in the way you made him feel, even if it was only for a moment before he made himself pull away.
Like now, for instance. You were sitting close to him, completely unaware that the warmth of your body spilling onto him and the subtle scent of your perfume was practically making him dizzy- yet still, he delighted in it. He delighted in the way you made him feel, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch your hand or arm, to test the waters and see if you might reciprocate. But he did resist the urge. For now at least. Maybe in a couple of years, when it didn’t feel wrong, he would see if you had similar feelings for him. Until then he would wait patiently, focus on his next steps in life and let you enjoy your last teenage years unbridled by his strong affection for you.
He just hoped, selfishly, very selfishly, that you didn’t get a boyfriend in that time.
“I’m sorry your dad didn’t show up.”
The sudden words of comfort were accompanied by a friendly shoulder bump from you and Atem nearly jumped, having been so lost in his own mind. Still, he caught the words, and they made the speed of his heart pick up again.
When he didn’t answer at first, you furrowed your brow, “Sorry, I just noticed you seemed a bit distracted, I thought that was why.”
“Oh- y-yes,” he started suddenly and awkwardly. God he prayed that if he ever was able to do something about his feelings, he wasn’t so cringe-worthy. Hopefully if that day ever came, he would be able to sweep you off your feet and properly charm you. At least for now he was able to clear his throat and regain his composure. “Thank you. It’s disappointing, I guess, but,” he looked around him, at his friends, his family, and smiled, “at least everyone else important to me is here.”
His gaze had returned to you at the last second, lingered on you, hoping to silently convey that you meant so much to him. Perhaps not exactly, how much you meant to him, but hopefully enough to know that regardless of his romantic feelings, he was still thankful for your friendship.
You must have received at least some of what he was trying to convey, because the soft, precious, touched expression that crossed your face and reached your eyes was profound.
You reached out and gave his hand a brief, but too welcomed squeeze, “We’ll always be here for you, Atem.”
There he went again, drawn in and practically mesmerized by you. All he could do was stare back, lost in your eyes and likely looking like a dumbfounded fool. Thankfully he was snapped out of his reverie by a flash, though realizing said flash was just made him want to blush.
Both of you turned to see Yugi with their grandfather’s camera, and he was peering over the top of it with a very pleased smile on his face. “Just taking pictures for the family albums!”
Anzu, who was standing behind Yugi, giggled at the comment and when Atem looked away upon feeling a certain heat creeping onto his cheeks, Yugi snapped yet another picture.
“Yugi,” you tried to scold, though it was marred by your own chuckle.
“Okay okay, I’m done,” the boy replied and indeed turned away to spare his beloved big brother further embarrassment.
Of course, said embarrassment became rather worthwhile, since he got to hear you laugh, and when you turned back to Atem with that humored smile on your face, he knew he didn’t care at all about the pictures.
In that moment, with your eyes on him, surrounded by his loved ones, he dared say that he was one of the luckiest men in Domino.
Atem, sitting alone in his pathetic, isolating cell, felt something sour crawling up his throat at the memory. Yugi was always there, always encouraging and supporting him, making him stronger and kinder. And, in a way, his little brother had given him the love of his life, too. Yugi had been the reason he met you, why he befriended you, and even the reason why he hadn’t pushed his stronger affection for you aside completely. His brother had given him so much and yet…
“I’m sorry, Yugi,” he whispered to the smiling picture.
Drawing in a calming breath, Atem let himself wallow in the sorrow for a moment, just a moment, before pushing it back to the recesses of his mind.
Atem then tucked the pictures into his jumpsuit, securing them within the orange fabric so there was no risk of losing them in the chaos he was about to unleash. Not a moment too soon either, because he heard the guards approaching his cell a second later. Atem stood, lighter and picks ready to use at a second’s notice, pictures tucked away safely on his person as the door to his cell opened. He was ready.
He may not have been able to save his brother, but he would be damned if these bars prevented him from saving you and his son.
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mrslittletall · 4 years ago
Note
So for this promp, hiding an injury, if it's still possible, how about Lorian? Doing this to not make his frail, fragile and cute little brother worry... but it fails miserably of course.
Title: Dark Souls Badthingshappenbingo Extra
Fandom: Dark Souls
Characters: Lorian Elder Prince, Lothric Younger Prince
Word Count: 1.725
AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15153839/chapters/63389065
Summary: Lorian managed to get a wound at his last campaign, but doesn’t want for his brother to know.
(Author’s note: This ask has sat in my inbox for AGES now, because I got two asks for the last prompt and the first one got send in like a few seconds earlier and therefore was the one I had to take.
Still, the requester has done something really nice for me and even though I don’t know if you are still into Dark Souls, I wanted to give something back and decided to fill this prompt out. I hope you enjoy.)
Lorian had just come back from a campaign against the demons.
Again, they hadn’t been able to locate the Demon Prince.
Again, they had to fight countless demons in their way, only to come back without any striking success.
Again, Lorian had managed to get a rather nasty wound, this time a burn on his right upper leg. Courtesy of the demons who often would attack with rather fiery skills.
Of course they had some healers with them, but Lorian had left them to treat the wounds of the mortally wounded, his wound was painful, but he would be easily able to live with it.
Now, that he was back at the castle, he technically could have gone to the infirmary, but his heart and soul ached to see his younger twin brother, the one that felt like an extension of him. They had been together in the womb and even after they had set their feet on the grounds of this land, they still shared a connection.
He certainly needed to see his other half first and he knew that it was no different for Lothric.
The only thing that bothered Lorian was, that Lothric had been born sickly and frail. He had his own kind of miracles, strong, powerful healing miracles, but if he used them, there was the chance for him to get a high fever. Lorian preferred for Lothric to not use his miracles, especially not when he already was feeling sick. Lorian knew that Lothric would want to heal his wound right away should he know about it, so he decided to put on a brave face and swallow down any pain. He couldn’t worry his brother.
Lorian was still limping once he was in front of Lothric’s room, he never understood why their father had insisted on them having to give up their shared room, but after he knocked, he took a deep breath and shifted weight on his leg. He couldn’t be seen limping in front of Lothric.
“Brother, come in.”, Lothric’s voice sounded through the door, he of course already knew that it was Lorian who was waiting outside. Since he had gotten into studying sorcery, Lothric had no trouble sensing Lorian at all.
Lorian opened the door and slipped into Lothric’s room, closing the door behind them and then walking over to Lothric’s bed, where his little brother was tucked in with a book in his hands and that prayer robe that he always was wearing. Lorian knew that he was forced by their father into this clothes.
“How are you feeling?”, Lorian asked, ignoring the pain in his leg as he strode over. “Do I have to worry because you lie in bed?”
“I simply did not had any desire to leave my bed.”, Lothric said. “Besides, you know that it is difficult for me to walk on my own.”
“Of course, but often you prefer to sit near the window in a chair and read there.”, Lorian said, carefully sitting down on the edge of Lothric’s bed, suppressing a hiss as the burn wound on his leg protested at the sudden weight put on it.
“There is no way to hide anything from you, Lorian…”, Lothric sighed. “I indeed had a fever the last few days. Surely the worry about your safe return.” As he said that word, Lothric’s hand was on his forehead and he looked at the ceiling in a rather dramatic gesture.
Ah, so it had been the right choice to not tell Lothric of his injury. If he was recovering from a fever, then surely he would only make it worse once he tried to heal Lorian’s injury. Lorian knew that Lothric would try to heal it, even if he would say him that he would go the infirmary. Lothric seemed to be under the impression that he was the only one who was qualified to tend to Lorian’s wound, so that they healed in the best way possible.
Lorian had to admit that he always thought that Lothric’s healing miracles were far superior over the healers in the infirmary, but he wouldn’t let his brother take a toll on his health over a simple burn wound.
“Would you like for me to stay and read to you, like we did earlier, when we still were children?”, Lorian asked.
“Aren’t you exhausted, brother?”, Lothric asked, voice quiet and low. “You just came back from your campaign.”
“I am fine.”, Lorian said, maybe a bit too quickly. Sitting on his leg made the wound sensitive and he carefully shifted his weight until the pain ceased, for the moment at least. “Our campaign wasn’t fruitful, we only managed to slay a few lesser demons. I actually could need some distraction too.”
“…do you really think that you will find the demon prince one day?”, Lothric murmured, very quietly, but Lorian could still hear it. He decided to act like he hadn’t clearly heard Lothric speak though.
“What have you said, brother?”
“Oh, nothing.”, Lothric said. Lorian knew that Lothric would have preferred for Lorian to stay in the castle, to not risk his life out there, but Lorian didn’t had the qualities for a Lord of Cinder like Lothric had. The only way he could try and proof his worth to their parents, was by being the best knight in the kingdom.
“It would be lovely if you could read to me, if you don’t feel too exhausted yourself.”, Lothric said and leaned back into his pillows.
“Do you want me to read you from the book that you were reading before I came in?”, Lorian asked.
“No.”, Lothric said, crossing his arms, “Actually… can you get the book with the fairy tales? That you always read to me when we were little?”
“Of course.”, Lorian smiled at his little brother and got up, wincing a tiny little bit when he put weight on his injured leg. Hoping that Lothric hadn’t noticed that tiny slip-up, Lorian went over to the book shelf and found the mentioned book, old and tattered. He must have read the tales in this book to Lothric so often, that he knew some of them by heart, but he always had to hold the book, even if he just retold a story he already knew or when he started to reimagine some of the stories, so that little Lothric could feel better about his ailment.
Lorian went back to the bed, trying not to limp, carefully sat down, wincing a second time, a second slip-up that shouldn’t have happened, and flipped the book open until he was at a story about a sorcerer that Lothric always had enjoyed a lot when they both had been around ten years old.
Lorian started reading and glanced back at Lothric, who carefully had laid back into the pillows, eyes half open, not looking at the book but at him. It made Lorian a tiny bit nervous, had Lothric picked up on that he was in pain?
“Lorian, you already have read this paragraph.”, Lothric said and when Lorian looked at the book, he realized that he in fact had accidentally read the same paragraph twice.
“Sorry.”, Lorian said. “I must have shifted in the line.”
Lorian continued reading the book, but more and more he started to feel strange. The letters in front of him seemed to become blurred and he often had to shook his head to get a clear view of them again. At the same time, the pain in his leg suddenly got far worse. It hadn’t been that bad at the beginning, it felt like it was on literal fire.
Still not wanting to admit to Lothric that he had been injured, even though Lorian knew he probably should get up and get treatment at the infirmary, he clenched his teeth and continued reading, not caring that his voice was breaking or that droplets of sweat started to fall on the pages.
“Brother? …Lorian?!”, was all that Lorian heard when the book fell out of his hands and he himself into unconsciousness.
When he came back to, he noticed the feathers laying around him as well as Lothric staring at him with a slightly flushed face and a reproachful look.
“Why haven’t you said anything?”, Lothric cut straight to the point.
“Because…”, Lorian started, slowly sitting himself up. The pain in his leg was gone as well as the discomfort he had felt. “Because I didn’t want for you to use your healing miracles, they only make your sickness worse…”
“I don’t care.”, Lothric said. “When healing my brother gives me a day more of fever, then it shall be. Especially when said brother had a wound inflicted by demon fire, which only would display its full effect after a certain amount of time passed.”
Lorian looked at Lothric and felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Not only because he had hidden the injury from Lothric, but also because Lothric had found out anyway and in the worst way possible.
“I am sorry…”, Lorian said, looking down at his knees.
“You didn’t want me to worry, right?”, Lothric said. “I just ask one thing from you, brother… You can trust me with knowing my own limits. I wouldn’t heal your injuries when it would get me into grave danger and believe me, I am used to a little fever. There almost hasn’t been a single day where I didn’t had one in one way or another…”
“I am sorry, Lothric.”, Lorian said again. “You are right, I didn’t want you to worry. I thought the wound wouldn’t turn out to be that grave. From now on, I won’t hide any injuries from you anymore.”
“Thank you, Lorian…”, Lothric said. “Now, how about you continue the story and I would like to hear the version you came up with from when we were children.”
Lorian looked at Lothric and saw a certain grin under that hood of his. Apparently, Lorian wasn’t the only one who could see right through his brother.
“With pleasure.”, Lorian said and continued to tell the story of their childhood until Lothric had fallen fast asleep.
(Author’s note: I picked up on a headcanon that got send to my headcanon blog for this story. See if you can find it on there!) 
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