#and then “eat dirt” Almost immediately after LIKE SIR

[yoyo-s-coffee]

A human sank deeper into the water just because of the weight of these feathers.

Very normal about ch. 287

[jennyyy007]

PLAYTHING 🗝️ pt. 7

Chores

Cw: Violence, female whumpee, male whumper, punishment, humiliation, degradation, cruel whumper, slave wumpee

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For the whole morning Mary has been cleaning. And not just doing dishes or tidying up a bit. Actually making everything look crystal clean. Her knees are all blue because she spent almost two hours on the floor, scrubbing it with an old toothbrush, sponges and rags to get every spec of dirt out.

She cleaned the sink, did all of the dishes, cleaned the dust off of all the of the furniture. And even cooked two meals for him. Banana pancakes topped with fruits and sirup, as well as freshly squeezed orange juice for breakfast. And a steak with vegetables for the side as his lunch.

And the most humiliating thing.. he didn’t finish his food completely. Leaving almost half of it. And she had to throw it away. The girl hasn’t had anything to eat for four days and she had to throw his food in the trash.

As Mary was cleaning the house, she actually noticed quite a lot of things. A framed graduation note hanging in the living room. There’s a name on it.

Isaac Whitlock. He graduated law school. He’s… a lawyer… The same man who has been torturing, abusing and almost killing her at some points.. is a lawyer.

When she was finally done with cleaning at around 3pm, the girl quickly sits down on the couch, just needing a few minutes to breathe.

Isaac is sitting on the big living room chair, sipping on some hot tea while reading a book.

Is this what he’s doing while she was sobbing down in the basement. Calling for him to let her out.. give her food or clothing? He looks so professional. He looks smart, mature and maybe even.. kind. But in reality… he’s a monster.

“Mary.. who allowed you to take a break?”

He asks, not looking up from his book.

“I-.. I completely all the tasks you gave me sir..”

Mary speaks, stuttering heavily. Looking over at the man, a worried expression on the girls face. Isaac now puts his book down, slowly placing the bookmark on the page where he’s left off before sitting it on the small table next to the chair.

“Yeah. Who said you could take a break?”

The man says, getting up from the chair and stepping closer to the girl. Making her slightly squirm back.

“I-I- s-sorry I-“

Mary stutters before she gets cut off by his hand around her throat. Gripping it tightly as he slaps her twice.

The poor girl immediately starts crying, trying to reach up, wanting to stop him but he doesn’t let her, quickly pushing her back on the couch.

“Shut up! You’re gonna beg me to give you more work when you’re finished- ungrateful pig!”

He yells, grabbing a fistful of the girls hair, ripping some of it out in the process as she makes more sobs.

“I-.. I-I’m so-s-sorry! Please- p-please I didn’t- I-“

The man punches her face, her chest and her stomach. Making her gasp and cough heavily.

After around a minute of beating the poor girl, Isaac pulls her off the couch, gripping her hair tightly before letting go. Mary lands on her back, sobbing. His boot digs in her lower belly as he starts rubbing it down roughly. Before stepping on her face.

His usual disgusting smirk appearing on his face.

“Go make me some coffee.”

He orders before stepping away again, sitting back down in his chair like nothing happened.

Mary sobs. Crimson liquid dripping down her face as she tries to get up.

“You have three minutes.”

—————————————————————

It’s 9pm in the evening. Isaac requested chicken burgers with some home made wedges and a glass of wine to the side. In fact Mary was never that good of a chef.. only having helped her mom before. But she did a pretty good job. Having spent two hours in the kitchen to make them. So she is pretty proud of herself. She sets the table, trying to make everything look as tidy as possible before she steps over in the living room, where Isaac is currently watching TV. The girl walks over to him, making a small bow before starting to talk.

“S.. sir your dinner is ready”

Isaac slowly reaches for the remote before turning the TV off. Getting up from the couch and starting to head to the dining room. He sits down, inspecting the food for a few seconds before picking it up and taking a bite, chewing it, and after a few seconds he puts the burger down again.

“Tastes like shit. Fetch me a pack of ramen will you?”

Mary frowns slightly, taking a few seconds to think what to reply.

“I-I don’t understand I-I f-..followed the recipe-“

She says shakily as the man unexpectedly slams his fist on the table, making it shake just before picking up the empty wineglass and throwing it at the girl. It shatters, breaking before collapsing to the floor. A few pieces of glass stick in the girls skin, some pieces even in her face.

Mary stumbles back as she sobs before Isaac rises from his seat, taking slow steps over to the girl. The shattered glass crushing more by his weight.

Mary keeps her head low, tears starting to run down her cheeks. She was scared… she didn’t want to get hurt again..

“I-.. I’m sorry-..”

He slaps her before walking past her. Not showing a single care in the world as he walks back to the living room.

“Clean up the glass. Go make me my food and clean the dishes.”

—————————————————————

Finally the day was over. It’s 1 am. Mary washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen in general before having to sit on the floor beside the couch. So if Isaac needed anything she could get it for him. After the man watched five episodes of that comedy show, he turned off the tv and got up.

“Come on. You’re going downstairs.”

Mary gets up, extremely exhausted from the whole day. She’s starving and weak. Her body hurts from the beatings she received today so she’s exited to get some sleep for the night.

The man waits until Mary was in front of him before walking her over to the basement door, opening it. The girl steps in front of him again, already putting a foot on the step before she can feel a hand on her back and someone swiftly pushing her down. The girl stumbles, letting out a quick scream before her body collides with the wooden stairs, bouncing off of them, making her crash to the floor.

The girl whimpers. Her vision blurry for a few seconds just before she makes a sob.

It’s her arm. Bent and the bone is slightly peaking out. Mary starts to make loud cries, shaking as she looks up at her captor.

“Aw.. your other arm just healed sweetheart..”

The man says mockingly before grabbing her exact broken arm and starting to drag her over the floor to her cell.

“P-please- a-ah-! O-oh- n-no ple- p-pleaseee!”

The girl sobs heavily before the man quickly drags her in her cell and shutting the door, smirking down at her before chuckling.

“go on. Take off the dress and give it to me”

Mary makes another cry but she obeys. Using her non injured arm to take off her dress, shaking all over. She’s struggling for around five minutes but her captor doesn’t move. Just amusing himself. After she was done she holds out the dress to him and he quickly takes it, trowing it on the floor away from the cell.

“Good girl… now… sweet dreams.”

He says mockingly as he steps over to the basement door, ignoring Marys whimpers and sobs. Shutting the door roughly before the light switches off.

———————————————————————

@a-living-canvas @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[psiroller]

next time on youre gonna hate me z

Laios had a nightmare. He had a lot of them, usually about school, about being naked or diseased while people laughed at him, while teeth fell out of his mouth. Sometimes Falin was stolen away by witches in dark robes, screaming and crying for him, but when he chased after her it felt like he was wading through knee-high mud with weights tied to his ankles. Sometimes they were about his father. Sometimes, like tonight, they were about everything at once.

Once the panic evened out, heart rate level and the distorted reality of the dream debunked, Laios got out of bed. He crept out of his bedroom and down the hallway to his little sister’s room, where he peeked through the door, left open so the soothing light could filter in; she said it kept the meaner ghosts away.

“Falin?” he called in a whisper-shout. She stirred a little on the bed but didn’t wake. Laios bit his lip and considered calling again, but then he remembered how miserable the day had been. A trip to the market had turned into an impromptu exorcism as a local priestess followed them and threw handfuls of stripped rosemary at them, chanting prayers all the while. Laios decided to let her sleep.

As he wandered aimlessly under high-vaulted ceilings, whistling in an almost imperceptible pitch to summon one of the dogs, he noticed flickering candlelight coming from his father’s office. Anxiety roiled in his gut, but Falin told him that Father did care, that he would help them when they really needed it. He played with the button on the collar of his sleeping shirt, steeled his shoulders, and turned the corner into the office with the pin-precision of a soldier.

“F-Father?” Laios’ voice broke regardless. His father’s head lifted but didn’t turn.

“It’s late, Laios. Why are you up and about?”

Laios chewed his lip until it hurt. “I had—I couldn’t sleep.”

His father scrawled his signature on what was probably a trade agreement, looking back. There had been an abundance of sugar that year, and it didn’t grow in his village. Too cold.

“Alright then. Try again.”

“I can’t, I’m… afraid.”

His father paused, the parchment half-rolled in his hands. “Of?”

“I don’t know, just… I had a nightmare.”

The elder Touden continued rolling the parchment into a tight cylinder, sliding it into an ostentatious scroll case.

“I’m—really worried about Falin,” Laios admitted. “Do you know where we’re sending—”

“I’m working on a solution,” his father said. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Father, please, just tell me what’s—”

“Go back to bed, Laios. I have the situation under control.”

The elder Touden unrolled yet another correspondence, and Laios knew the conversation was over. Laios clenched his hands into fists and bit his tongue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and turned on his heel to head back. When he reached his room he kept going, taking softer, gentler steps to loop around the house, then slipped through the door furthest away from his father’s office.

“Big brother?”

Falin yawned and stumbled through Laios’ open door, clumsily shouldering it open. It was odd that he left it ajar, he tended to close it so he could read late into the night, but she was too groggy to be suspicious until she found Laios’ bed empty, the covers kicked down and the sheets cold to the touch. Immediately Falin panicked, calling out for him to hear nothing in reply. He’d left his cookbook on the bedside table, which was a bad omen.

Falin snatched a pillowcase and took off outside, missing a step down into the garden and eating gravel face-first on the landing. She shook it off and bounced back to her feet, badly whistling for the dogs; they were bathing in the morning sunlight and had no interest in playing just yet. She coaxed Nussa into sniffing the pillowcase, who cocked her head and blew out an irritated whuff. She got to her feet nonetheless, shaking the dirt off on Falin’s nightgown and taking her sweet time stretching before entering a leisurely trot, leading Falin to the barn.

Nussa pointed lazily at the small cushion by the horse tack wall, the one where Dustrag normally slept, and there they found… Dustrag, where he normally slept. He was lousy at actually chasing off rustlers and predators, but he barked so shrilly and quickly it roused the more useful dogs faster than the livestock could, so Laios had managed to train him to stay there and keep watch—and keep company, as the case may be.

“Laios…” Falin whined. “You scared me!”

Laios rose out of Dustrag’s fluff, looking haggard. “Huh? What’s—mm. Good morning.” Dustrag lapped at his face, slicking his bedhead down stylishly.

“What are you doing out here, dummy?” Falin asked. She tugged on Laios’ sleeve to get him to stand. The wooden floor of the barn had left imprints on his leg, which was still asleep judging by how he avoided putting weight on it.

“Just felt like sleeping in the barn tonight,” Laios lied, and Falin pouted at him.  

“Dustrag can’t be more comfortable than your bed,” she protested.

“Says you,” Laios teased.

“Did you have a bad dream again?”

Laios rubbed the back of his sore neck, trying to push it out into the other direction.

“… Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Laios shrugged. “Didn’t seem like something a big brother should do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m the big brother. You can come to me for nightmares, but it’s weird if I go to you for nightmares.”

“But I can—”

Laios put Falin in a headlock and twisted his knuckles through her hair, making her wail. He released her and smiled at her in that way that was both soothing and strangely frustrating. She didn’t know the word for that feeling yet.

“Don’t worry about it, Falin. I got it under control.”

[lys1]

Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 

Playing With Potions

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The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

[zoeykallus]

Imperial Crosshair x Fem!Reader Short Fic Part 2/? - My Sweet Traitor

Warnings: Hurt / Angst / Tiny bit of fluff

What Happened Before:

Imperial Crosshair x Fem!Reader Short Fic Part 1/? - My Sweet Traitor

Part 2

When you came to, things were different than you expected. You weren't in a cell on an imperial cruiser like you expected. Nor were you tied to a table or chair for a painful interrogation. You were lying in the alley, right where Crosshair had stunned you. Slowly and carefully you straightened up, brushed the sand off your robe and looked around.

Far and wide there was no one to be seen, not even ordinary passers-by. The suns in the Tatooin sky were slowly setting in the distance, bathing the sky in glorious golden and orange shades. Your chest hurt a little where the stun shot hit you.

It seemed that Crosshair had just left you lying there. You weren't sure if you were grateful or angry because he still left you stunned and lying in the dirt. But you probably should be grateful. After all, you were still free and unharmed.

"So you were unable to locate the fugitive Jedi?" asked Rampart, turning slowly.

Crosshair, standing on the other side of the huge desk, met his gaze almost defiantly as he replied, "No, sir. Not yet."

Rampart sighed softly, but then said, "I'm sure you will. Anyway, this Jedi can't leave the planet that easily. We control all spaceports and there are enough of our ships in orbit to intercept fugitives. No one leaves the planet unnoticed."

Crosshair felt a hole open up in his stomach and his chest tighten. He had made up his mind to forget you, not to think about how you were doing. But now he had seen you again and just the thought of you and that you were trapped was eating him up inside, against his will.

He wanted to do his duty. He was a soldier and a good one at that. He always carried out orders to the satisfaction of his superiors. That he had made an exception because of you angered him. But he was even more annoyed by the concern you had aroused in him. The questions and thoughts that came with it.

"Your shift is over. Purge Commander Cody will take the next shift. If she is not located by morning, you take over again."

Crosshair pulled himself together, trying not to outwardly show how much concern the Purge Commander's deployment was causing him. Cody's chip worked, he wouldn't make exceptions, and he was unfortunately damn good at what he did.

" Understood," he said simply.

Pretty soon you realized that the Empire would not let you leave the planet There were guards, patrols and roadblocks everywhere. You wondered if Crosshair was still on the planet, leading a search party.

In an abandoned cellar vault you had found refuge for the time being. Outside it was dark by now, but search parties were still running through the streets. More than before it seemed to you. You had little hope of escaping from the planet. You sat down in a corner, pulled your robe tighter around you and breathed deeply. You wanted to sleep or at least meditate, you would need the strength. But meditating with all this commotion all around you in the streets was not so easy. As soon as you opened yourself to the Force, you felt the unrest that, thanks to the Empire, seemed to have the whole planet in its grip.

When you heard sounds that seemed to be very close, you were startled out of your meditation. Someone was entering the basement stairs, you could hear the footsteps coming from behind the door. The basement was mostly empty and there was no second exit. You were trapped, cursing yourself over your choice of a hopeless hiding place.

When the door opened, however, you immediately recognized the trooper by his stature and the way he moved, despite his helmet.

"Crosshair?"

He glanced up the stairs behind him, then turned to you.

"How the hell did you find me down here? This doesn't feel like a coincidence somehow."

Crosshair growled from under his helmet, "Because it's not a coincidence".

He walked up to you and you flinched back in alarm as he reached into your robe. However, he immediately pulled his hand back out and had a very small object between his fingers.

"A bug? You put a tracker on me when I was unconscious."

Crosshair nodded and looked behind him again to the stairs leading out of the basement. Looking at you again he explained, "Just in case if I needed to find you again quickly. This case has come to pass. The whole planet is under surveillance. Purge troopers are in the streets, all because of you. You won't get out of here alive without help."

Your heart began to race. Basically you had already known that, but hearing it from his mouth, albeit distorted by his helmet, was a whole different ball game.

"So you want to help me?"

Crosshair murmured, "There's no question of wanting. Because of you, I will probably lose everything. My position in the empire, my rank as a soldier, and most likely my life."

"Then why are you doing it?" you asked quietly.

He paused for a moment, not answering immediately, only after a small sigh.

"Because my feelings for you haven't changed, even though I tried to suppress them, day after day. I thought I had it made, and then suddenly you have to come stumbling across my path again and make me realize that I'm not capable of suppressing my feelings for you."

He sounded angry but also vulnerable. You could sense fear beneath his surface. You knew he was afraid you might not make it.

"I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me" you said softly "I don't want you to die because of me."

"If we do everything right, neither of us will die" he said firmly "Stop trying to play the martyr again, those days are over"

Crosshair threw you the bag he had with him. Before, you had only noticed it fleetingly. "Hurry up, get changed."

He turned and stared up the stairs while you hurriedly opened the bag and pulled out the uniform of a female Imperial NCO.

"How did you get the uniform?"

Crosshair said quietly, "Stole it, of course. I was looking for an officer about your size, broke open her locker and stole the uniform."

"I see," you said quietly.

Crosshair chuckled, "What did you think? That I slept with her to get the clothes? Are you jealous?"

You were glad Crosshair wasn't looking at you, because you were jealous and it was probably clear from your expression, as well as the shame that was reflected on it because of that.

"Of course not"

Crosshair chuckled again, "Well if you say so."

You hurriedly got dressed and finally told him he could turn around. Crosshair turned around, looked at you briefly and said, "I never thought I'd find this uniform sexy."

Heat rose in your ears and cheeks. As he walked toward you, your heart pounded to your throat. You wondered if he knew what effect he had on you, how even words and movements from him, without a touch, could fluster you.

He reached for the cap of your uniform and pulled it deeper into your face.

"You'll have to hide a bit. In that uniform, they won't look too closely when you're wearing it, but your face is still theoretically known to them out there. A wanted picture has been issued," he warned you, but his voice was suddenly gentle.

"We can do this," you said, looking up at him from under the brim of the cap.

Crosshair was still wearing his helmet, but you could feel the small smile underneath.

"Remember, you have to act like an Imperial officer," he reminded you before you took the stairs up.

"You mean arrogant, domineering, and condescending?"

Crosshair growled, "Yeah, pretty much like that."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@moonstrider9904

[topgunruinedme]

Less Than Achievable - Part Two

Master list

Next Chapter - Part 3.

Previous Chapter - Part 1.

On Ao3.

Synopsis: The time Jake was finally shown he meant something to someone.

Hangman whump TW swearing.

When his hop finally dragged around, he had been running on pure fumes. He had decided after his small chat with the Admiral to start on the manuals immediately, managing 2 hours of sleep between his study. He couldn’t remember much of what he had eaten beside a stray piece of fruit he would find lingering around his study area. No doubt from Coyote, the man had taken a strange attachment to him despite his attempts to separate them.

So he left his wingman. He flew idly in the sky until he saw the old man. Then he risked it all. He was pleasantly surprised at Maverick's laughter when the old Aviator pulled one of his old moves. He felt a strange warmth when the man praised him when he took a page out of the man’s book and pulled a move out of the same book.

Jake shut down his engines mid-air and let Maverick fly past him and he flipped back over the older man’s jet before rebooting his systems and settling behind him in a prime attack spot.

“Oh!” Maverick laughed in surprised glee, “that’s one I haven’t seen in a while!”. He didn’t shoot him down, but he lasted the longest time out of the entire class. Maverick had grinned at him on the way back to base from his jet beside him, “Good hop today Hangman”.

And just like that, he was back in his head, his pleased grin fell, and the warmth that had settled in his stomach was now burning coals that shifted uncomfortably.

Hangman, Noose. Leave us out to dry. Get someone killed. No one, dirt. Useless. Watch your back.

//

Hangman stood firmly in a parade rest, in front of the Admiral; anxiety eating at him since the man had commandeered the end of their lesson and requested, he stayed behind.

“I looked at your record,” Iceman said almost causally, Jake refused to look at him, stubbornly looking over the Admiral’s shoulder. “The other day, you told me you needed to study. Son, you have the highest score in the program” the Admiral continued, Jake felt a hand on his shoulder, but he refused to look at the man. Should he shrug him off? He didn’t want to make the ma dirty.

“Don’t lie to me again” a cold shiver ran through Jake's spine at the Admiral's stiff tone, and a ball of dread dropped into his stomach making him feel sick.

Fuck up, Jake. You’ve already pissed off an Admiral. Of cause, you have. Useless, not even good enough for an Admiral.

“Yes, Admiral Kazansky” Jake replied stiffly, unaware of the Admiral's slightly confused glance. The younger man he had slowly convinced to call him Tom, had returned to the emotionless façade he had carried all those days ago when he first met him. The same mask he showed everyone.

One step forward, Two steps backwards.

//

Jake didn’t hide his surprise when Maverick picked him as team leader. Once he identified the undeniable relationship Rooster and Maverick had, he had left all hope of getting picked. He was sure Rooster would be picked, if only for a last desperate attempt at an apology. Even with all his studying he never thought he would even be considered.

It didn’t seem like he was the only one surprised, he looked confused at Maverick who glanced past him. Jake's eyes trailed over to his teammates. Dagger two and three, Fanboy and payback were holding themselves stiffly compared to their fun relaxed personality they attempted to shove on everyone. Bob looked uneased sending him a small smile, while Phoenix looked furious.

No one else wanted him to fly. No one wanted to fly with him. He stayed behind not missing Rooster shove past him purposely catching his shoulder on the way out.

Rooster was the spare. It wasn’t right, he should be the spare. He wasn’t anyone important. Why was this being wasted on him? This was a mistake.

“Sir” he called out to Maverick as the man moved to leave, Maverick signed and turned to him. “I’m not changing my mind lieutenant,” Maverick told him knowingly, Jake frowned. Not changing, he had to.

“I’m sticking by my choices, good luck out there. You’re going to need it” Maverick patted him on the shoulder before stepping out of the room.

God, what was he going to do?

//

He wasn’t terribly surprised at how hostile his teammates were with him, stiff as if waiting for him to taunt them at every corner. He hadn’t attempted to maintain a relationship with any of them, Rooster glared at him from afar. Going as far as leaving rooms when he entered them like a toddler having a tantrum. It was frightening how many things he could compare between Rooster and a toddler. It was frankly concerning.

He hadn’t flown with this many people under his wing for years, now he had Bob, Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback Maverick’s, and Rooster’s lives in his hands.

This was a mistake. He stood on the tarmac and stepped towards Rooster who recoiled like he had been burnt, “Give them hell” he attempted to give the man encouragement. '

But Rooster just glared at him, “Don’t get us killed if you mess up out there.We’ll leave you out there”.

What had he expected? To be greeted back with open arms?

He had tried so hard to push everyone away and now he expected them to watch his back?

He had gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Pure hatred, distrust, no wingman.

So, he pulled off of the tarmac into the sky, the only place he could truly call home. The only thing that no matter what he did, no matter where he went; would never leave him. He loved it, gliding through it, the calmness. With the spray of the ocean and the creatures that flew next to him as if he was one of them, he could only hope the sky loved him back today.

He couldn’t fuck up, not now. Not with Maverick’s trust. Not with Rooster in the air with him.

So, he kept them on track, careful to be slow enough that everyone stayed together, but fast enough that they stayed within the time limit.

“Come on Rooster, get off that perch” he muttered through the coms as Rooster speed up catching up, respectively he sped up so they wouldn't collide finally confident Rooster would keep up. He wasn’t leaving a wingman alone this time.

He must be the perfect team leader, he needed to bring them all back. He had to.

Bob’s laser locks on. He shoots. It hits. Miracle one.  

Paybacks lasers not working. They’re losing their chance at a second bomb.

“Rooster just wait! Let me think of another solution”

“We don’t have time!”

“Wait!”

“I’m shooting blind!”

If he misses, the mission is over. He fails.

Rooster shoots. It hits. Miracle two.

They pull up over the ridge of coffin’s corner. “Smoke in the air!”.

He has no one to boast about doing the impossible, 8 Gs in an F-18. He’s avoiding missiles while attempting to keep his eye on everyone.

What the hell was he doing? Rooster was swooping over everyone using his flairs to cover them before they had a chance to respond. What the hell was the idiot doing?

That’s where it all went wrong. No manual could have ever prepared him for this. No scenario, no matter how many simulations he conducted or how much he studied.

This was the reason he didn’t fly with others; he tended to make stupid decisions.

“Smoke in the air!”

“It’s locked on!” “I’m out of flairs!”

That’s how he ended up in this situation. Flying above Rooster using his own flairs to protect his wingman jet. Leaving himself stranded in the air in perfect range of the SAM’s. He heard the long tone as the jet warned him of his impending unavoidable doom.

Bring them back to the ship, bring them back. Don’t waste any more lives todayhe begged the sky. He loved how flying in the sky made him feel, he could only hope the sky granted him this one wish.Take them home.

The Jet tilted and jerked to the side as the missile hit. He was submerged with smoke, fire emerged as he attempted to bring the jet into a controlled landing. His engines failed.

He closed his eyes, his hands wrapped around the handle between life and death.

He pulled it.

Rooster's words haunted him,“Something goes wrong out there; we’ll leave you out there”.

[xcrystalzero]

it's called a starconch

pairing: childe x gn!reader

summary: a seashell shouldn't hold as much meaning as childe lets it. and yet, he can't seem to let go.

note: i think i'm going through my angsty teenage stage as a literal adult.... also this shit long, good luck! also SPOILER WARNING HERE FOR THE LIYUE ARCHON QUEST DONT READ IF YOU HAVENT FINISHED IT!!!!!!!

Childe had always loved the ocean. Coming from a little fishing village on the coast, the Snezhnayan ocean had always felt like home, but that wasn't the ocean he was talking about.

It was so warm here compared to his homeland, the coasts lined with fine golden sand that crumbled under his feet and shells of every color under the sun scattered about. One in particular caught his eye and Childe knelt down slowly to take it in his hand.

"It's called a Starconch!"

He nearly spun around in panic as the voice seemed to echo around him. He hadn't heard that voice in long enough that it almost sounded real, and yet, there was no way that could have been the case.

With a soft sigh, he turned his gaze back out towards the sea. Starconch...

~~~

Liyue was a country of colors. The moment he had first stepped off of the boat and into Liyue Harbor, he had been awed by the way that city seemed to shine. The warm light of a thousand lanterns hanging from every building he could see pushed back the darkness of night, bathing the place and the people in a golden glow.

And in that golden glow, he saw you.

"Welcome to Liyue Sir Tartaglia!" Your smile was warm like the city around you and yet, Childe sensed that it wasn't entirely genuine. "I am [name], a representative on behalf of the Liyue Qixing. It is an honor to have you in our harbor." Ah, that was why. Well, you were smart not to trust the Fatui who had just docked in the city you were meant to protect.

Well, two could play at that game. It took him but a moment to pull his usual grin to his face as he extended a hand. "Quite the warm welcome! Trust me, the honor is all mine."

He didn't miss the way the side of your mouth quirked slightly upwards at that as you regarded him with a somewhat bemused expression before returning the gesture.

"And please, call me Childe."

~~~

"Fancy seeing you here." Childe had been heading out on a request to monitor a Fatui base near the coast and had thought to grab some food for the road before he left when he saw your figure weaving between the various stands set up around Liuili Pavilion.

He wasn't sure how to feel about the way his heart seemed to jump at the sight of you though. It wasn't as though he didn't see you often. His position as a foreign diplomat and your role as a representative of the Qixing made it so that communication between you two was an all-too normal occurrence. Almost every day as luck would have it and yet, he wasn't sure if he would ever get bored of the prospect of running into you.

You turned to face him and Childe couldn't manage to hold back the laugh that erupted out of him. Your cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk, likely filled with a huge bite of the pastry you were currently cradling protectively in your hands as though you thought he was going to steal it from you.

Your cheeks went red as you threw a hand up in front of your face as you finished your bite before turning a glare back on him. "What..."

"Hungry?" He teased, stepping around you to scan the stand's wares as he pulled his wallet out.

"Shut it..." You muttered, promptly folding the wrapping of your pastry up over the top and slipping it into your pocket. "I thought you were Ganyu... She's always yelling at me not to eat so many sweets but they're just so good..."

Childe chuckled at that, earning him another sideways glare from your direction. "Ah, so is that your weakness then?" He plucked a handful of fruits from the stall as well as a pair of lemon tarts sitting in a small container to the side, offering the money for them to the stand owner as he stowed them in his knapsack.

"What do you need to know about my weaknesses Fatui?" Ah yes, there is was. The thing that had drawn Childe to you in the first place. The city of Liyue was warm and so were the people, but there were times when for you, that warmth rose into a heated blaze. You weren't afraid to challenge him, to dart across the line drawn by diplomacy and come just close enough that he was tempted to chase after you when you retreated.

There was a slight smirk on your face as you waited for his answer. He sighed, shrugging with a soft smile. "I mean, it can't hurt right?"

"You're insufferable." He might have been offended if you actually meant that. Thankfully, that smirk was still there so he had nothing to worry about.

"Say, I'm going out to the coast right now for some inspections. You think you can spare a moment to come with me?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Why me?" You questioned immediately, suspicion evident.

"U-Um... Well it'll be a little suspicious if a Fatui Harbinger just takes off out of nowhere right?" An awful excuse truly. There had been multiple instances already in his short time in Liyue that Childe had just taken off to get done whatever it was that he needed to get done. In fact, it was something of a known fact within the Bank that he enjoyed heading out for smaller tasks every once in a while just to get some combat practice and stretch his muscles. That being said, there was no way you knew that so...

"So you want someone to account for you, is that it?" you remarked, crossing your arms over your chest as you studied him.

"Well..."

"Okay sure."

He shouldn't have let his gaze fly up to meet yours as quickly as he did. He shouldn't have let the jolt of happiness he felt show in his eyes, or allowed his smile to become the slightest bit more real. But he did, and he was sure that you noticed.

"A-Alright then, let's go!"

~~~

"Well, that went well." You clapped your hands together, brushing off any dirt that had accumulated as you made your way down the shore, taking a seat on a small outcropping or rock placed conveniently in the shade of a large tree.

Childe trailed after, taking big, dramatic steps as he tried to keep the ever shifting sand out of his shoes. "Sure did..." He heard your laughter and despite the fake pout he wore, the sound was nothing less than heartwarming.

"Take your shoes off!" you encouraged, kicking your feet up to show that you had already done a much. After a moment of hesitation, he complied, slipping his boats off and tossing them to the side as he took a seat beside you, staring out at the ocean.

Childe would have loved to say that the silence was comfortable. However, the truth of the matter was that he felt strange. The crash of waves onto the shore was nearly drowned out by the pounding of his own heart as though the thing were beating inside of his head instead of his chest. Well, they had been moving for a while, maybe he was just tired. Or dehydrated. His palms were sweaty though, that was new... Likely just the fact that he was wearing his coat. He wasn't built for the warm Liyue climate after all!

"Childe?" Oh no, your hand was on his shoulder. His already deafening heartbeat felt as though it was speeding up further, the heat in his body seeming to concentrate at the point where your hand made contact with him.

Wait. None of this was normal. All of these feelings seemed to be related to you in some way or another. How strange. Was he ... nervous?

"You called?" He didn't recall thinking those words, but they were already out of his mouth, complete in true "Childe" fashion with a teasing tone and smile. Wow, he was even better at faking it than he thought.

"You were completely spaced out... Don't tell me a little inspection is all it takes to tire out a Fatui Harbinger!" It sounded like just another dig at him but Childe was sure that he heard just the slightest bit of concern hidden in your joking words. The realization did not help his current confusion in the slightest.

"Nothing wears me out! You on the other hand, look like you could use a snack. Now, if only someone brought one..." He tossed back before digging into his bag and pulling out the little carton holding the pair of lemon tarts he had purchased earlier that day. He didn't miss the way your eyes lit up before you pointedly glanced away.

"You think you can bribe me into being nicer to you?" you scoffed.

"Whenever did I say anything like that?" Childe popped open the top, holding the tray out to you. After a moment, you hesitantly reached out, plucking one of the little tarts out.

"Thanks..."

Childe smiled as he took the other half of the pair, immediately taking a huge bite out of the side, savoring the way the tartness of the lemon contrasted with the buttery, flaky crust. "Anytime!"

"I have something for you too..." Popping the last of the treat into his mouth, Childe turned to face you only to see that you were holding something out to him. Taking it immediately, he held it up to his face, turning it about in his hands in confusion.

"Is this, a shell?"

When he looked back at you for confirmation, he was somewhat surprised to see a slight blush beginning to spread over the tops of your cheeks.

"It's called a Starconch! They're native to Liyue so I didn't think you'd seen one before." you offered as clarification as Childe continued to inspect the little thing.

"It's pretty. But why for me?"

There was a pause. "It may have reminded me of you..."

There it was again. The panicked rhythm of his heart and the warmth and the confusion. "Oh? This shell did?"

"It... It looked like your eyes. It's kind of pretty..."

Childe's gravestone was going to look so stupid. Here lies Tartaglia, 11th Harbinger in service of the Tsaritsa. Defeated by a seashell and a compliment about his eyes.

"What are you looking at me like that for Fatui?" He was drawn back to his present, sadly still alive self and your blushing face as you awaited his reaction. He attempted to pull a self-satisfied smirk to his face, combing his mind for a response that was just the perfect balance of confident and joking and accepting, and came up empty.

He tried, he tried as hard as he could but he couldn't think of anything. Anything except you that was. Slowly, he set the Starconch down beside him as he turned fully to face you.

"[name]?"

"Yes?" To your credit, you showed no sign of wanting to retreat. He could see the flash of panic in your eyes as he suddenly came closer and yet, you made no move to pull away.

"Do you really think of me as just disgusting Fatui?"

"Huh?" Apparently, that had not been what you were expecting. You blinked twice, evidently confused.

"Is that what you think of me?" he reiterated, not daring to break eye contact in case it gave you a chance to pull away.

"I mean, you are definitely Fatui but I don't think of you as disgusting or anything..." You offered, eyes wide as though you weren't sure what answer he wanted from you.

"And just to be clear, an honorable representative of the Liyue Qixing wouldn't want to be seen with the Fatui right?" There was a slight waver in his tone that he couldn't seem to get rid of it. He hated it. Rather than the usual confidence that oozed from his every word, he sounded unsure. Hesitant even.

It was you who broke eye contact then, glancing down at your hands as you kneaded them nervously in your lap. "Well, they probably shouldn't..." His heart dropped. "But..."

Childe's eyes flew open as you pressed your lips against his, your own eyes squeezed so tightly shut he was sure it hurt. It took a second of coaxing but he found himself slowly leaning into you, hands coming up to wrap around your waist as yours coiled over his shoulders before traveling up into his hair. He felt you smiling into the kiss and the thought spurred him on as he pulled you in until you were all but sitting on his lap.

It wasn't particularly fiery or passionate or anything he believed your first kiss would be like, but there was something else there. It felt like release. When you began to pull away, Childe let out a soft whine, lips following yours as you drifted tantalizingly out of range.

"Relax harbinger." you drawled, glancing up at him with half-lidded eyes, your expression tempting enough that he almost threw himself at you right then and there. "We have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere."

~~~

"I think this is turning into an actual problem."

Childe pouted in response to your remark as he continued to organize all of the starconches you had collected into neat little rows on the sand before you. There had to be at least 50 of them, all in different shapes and sizes of every shade blue one could imagine.

This had become your new ritual. Every free evening the two of you had, you would come back to this spot, the location of the first starconch exchange. What had started as a cute little bonding activity though, as with anything with Childe, had quickly become a competition. Now, it was a contest as the two of you continuously tried to one-up each other in finding the most beautiful starconch.

"It's fine! They're pretty right?" He turned towards you, stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "They remind you of my eyes remember?"

You rolled your eyes as you straightened out the harbinger's less-than even rows. "Ah, how I regret saying that..."

"Rude!"

When all of the little shells had been perfectly arranged, the two of you stood back to consider them.

"I call the top right."

"Hey, I wanted that one!"

"Too bad, I was quicker."

Childe pouted again but didn't protest as he bent down to pick up the shell you had chosen and then one that he liked as well. When he reached out to offer it to you however, you reached for his other hand, grabbing the shell he had picked.

"Huh?"

You smiled. "You like this one and you like me, so I get this one. "

"I am ... confused," Childe confessed, though the smile adorning his lips contrasted his words. He reached for your free hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, tugging you away from your little shaded safe-haven and towards the water.

"Hey!" you protested though you let him pull you there, laughing the entire time. "What are you doing, we don't have a change of clothes!"

"Doesn't matter! It's a waste to come to the beach and never touch the water, don't you think?" Childe grinned as he pulled the two of you into the waves just in time for one to crash down, instantly soaking the two of you from waist down.

You gaped in faux shock as you swatted at the man's arm. "Childe!"

He laughed, a free, unrestrained sound unlike the one he was so used to performing in front of others when trying to remain the ever charming and relaxed Fatui diplomat the people of Liyue had to see him as.

Childe. He had told you to call him that. That was what everyone called him after all, and yet, it didn't sound right anymore. Not coming from you.

"Childe?" It was a question this time, as though you had been able to sense that something was amiss with your lover.

"Ajax," he replied.

"What?"

"Ajax, that's my name. My real one anyway."

Your eyes widened as you stared at him in shock, the hand you had resting against his arm slipping slowly down back to your side. "Is... Is it okay for you to tell me that?"

Childe scoffed, running a hand through his hair. Damn, this was more embarrassing than he thought it would be. It was just a name! "It's my name, and I want you to call me it. There shouldn't be a problem with that right?"

You stared at him for a moment longer before leaning in, placing soft lips against his for just a moment. "Alright then, Ajax. Don't regret it."

And then you dunked him, pushing him down the moment the enxt wave crested over you two. When he pulled himself back to the surface, sputtering in shock, there was a dangerous grin on his face.

"Oh, it's on now!"

~~~

"What's happening with that traveller you've been talking to recently?" There was nothing accusatory about your tone and yet, Childe couldn't help but hear is as an accusation.

"Nothing much," he shrugged. "They're looking for someone and the information they've dug up has been pretty useful so far."

"Useful huh..." Well now you were definitely suspicious. Childe felt bad about it, he really did, but there was no way he could involve you in any of this. His loyalty was to the Tsaritsa and he was required to carry out her orders. With your loyalty in line with the Qixing, he had no doubt that you would be at odds with the Fatui's plans in the coming weeks, but there was nothing he could do about that. What you didn't know couldn't hurt you.

If worst came to worst and he was forced to attack Liyue however, he had already made preparations. A quick look at your schedule for the coming weeks had confirmed that you were going to be taking a quick trip to Fontaine for some business you had chosen not to disclose with him. Not that he particularly cared what it was that you were doing, just that you would be gone when everything went south. As long as you weren't hurt, everything would be fine.

"They're a nice kid honestly! I introduced them to Zhongli yesterday and they seem to be getting along quite well!" Childe offered. You quirked an eyebrow at him, recognizing an olive branch when you heard it.

"I mean, Zhongli is a hard man to hate." You took the branch.

"Which reminds me, we're still on for dinner tonight right?" Childe could pat himself on the back for how smooth that conversation shift was. You seemed less impressed though as you rolled your eyes at him.

"I guess if I have to..."

"Hey!" You were laughing again and Childe felt his heart soften. He hated this game of keeping secrets from you, but if it kept you safe, kept you happy and content and laughing, he might be able to play the game for just a bit longer.

~~~

It felt like you were going to crush his ribcage, but Childe wouldn't have it any other way. He was sure that his grip on you was just as strangling as he buried his face in your neck.

Slowly, you pulled yourself away from him, eyes sad even as you mustered a smile to your face. "I'll be back in 3 weeks max okay! That's not that long!"

"Yes it is." Childe didn't mince his words and didn't miss your flinch at his statement. He wanted to badly to grab onto you and not let you take a step closer to that boat. To drag you back to his apartment with him and sit you down there until this was all over. But he couldn't.

You would be safer in Fontaine. You wouldn't be part of anything that happened. And best of all, if this all went fine, you wouldn't ever have to know what he did. He didn't want to lie to you, but he couldn't see a way around it this time.

Instead of voicing as much, he pulled you back in for a final kiss, not caring that there were definitely people watching and gaping at the show he was putting on. You hummed softly but didn't do much to fight him, letting him press himself into you as you gently brushed some stray strands of his way hair out of his face.

He only let go when the ship's captain sounded the horn in impatience, though his half-smile made it clear that he wasn't particularly mad at the young couple's display. You squeezed his hand once more.

"I'll see you soon okay Ajax."

"Be safe [name]." You nodded smiling at him once more before slowly detangling your fingers from his and making your way up the ramp onto the ship.

Childe waved until the ship had completely left the harbor, even when it was clear that there was no way you could still see him. When the shape of the ship had finally faded behind the sea fog, he grudgingly turned to make his way back to the Bank, only to be faced with a nervous looking Fatui recruit who nearly jumped when they made eye contact.

"M-Master Childe! There's some new information you should probably know about."

Childe raised his eyebrows in a silent question and when the recruit nodded, he took a slow breath it. So it was starting.

~~~

"Master Childe!" Ekaterina greeted him the moment he stepped through the doors of Northland Bank. He mustered the strength to give her a quick wave, even as his entire body ached at the slightest movement. The Foul Legacy transformation really was something but he wasn't sure he would ever truly get used to the backlash.

"How are you feeling?"

"Well enough," he lied. After that stunt that Signora and Zhongli had just pulled on him, he wasn't in the best mood at the moment. "What is the situation like?"

Ekaterina paused and Childe narrowed his eyes at the way some strange expression had crept suddenly onto her face. "What happened?"

"Well, you're quite the wanted man... It seems word has gotten out about your involvement in all this, though I'm not quite sure how..." The traveller huh? Well, that much was expected considering how things had gone. If only they hadn't gotten in his way. Of course, he had relished in the battle they had been able to share, but it would most definitely have been cleaner if they hadn't been around.

"That much is expected," he said with a soft laugh. Ekaterina offered him a thin smile, and that was when he knew that something was wrong. "There's something more isn't there?"

"Um... There was something..."

"Well, spit it out then."

"There were a few casualties in the event..."

"Really?" Childe was genuinely shocked by that. "Outside of the Millelith? I thought the adepti would have been able to protect everyone within the city."

"Yes well, most of the people in the city were fine... It's just, there were some just outside of the border..." Ekaterina fumbled with her words, eyes downcast in a way that was starting to worry Childe.

"Like?"

"Well, there was a ship that turned around because of a storm up ahead and ran straight into Osial's torrents," she finally spit it out, eyes flashing with panic when she finally looked back up at him.

"A ship? A ship..." Childe's blood ran cold. "A ship going where?"

"... Fontaine sir."

The next few moments may have been filled with silence to an outsider watching, but Childe's head was filled with a roaring. He heard voices and people and the sound of his blood rushing through his body and the air filling his lungs as he heaved in breath after breath. It was all just noise, there was so much noise.

Childe grabbed onto the counter as his feet collapsed from under him, breath coming in thick inhales as he struggled to gain purchase. No. This, this wasn't happening. There was no way.

"Where is the ship?" he managed to get out between breaths, eyes flashing up to Ekaterina. He wasn't sure if she squeaked in fright or it was just his delirious mind playing tricks on him, but she answered him anyway, hurt registering even in her voice.

"It washed up on shore this morning... There was no sign of anyone who had been on-board..."

This wasn't real. Childe's vision was starting to go dark, black edges creeping slowly inwards as he struggled to sit back up.

"That... That can't be possible. They're here. They probably made it back. They're waiting for me. I have to get to them." He attempted to push himself to his feet but all the strength in his body was gone. The black in his vision was growing and without warning, he found himself slumped against the cold tile of the Northland Bank floor.

"Master Childe!" Ekaterina's worried voice registered somewhere in his brain but the darkness was slowly encroaching.

His fingers attempted to clutch at something, only to find the chilly smoothness of tile beneath him. This was a dream, some fever nightmare brought on my the transformation. It was fine, he would open his eyes and everything would be fine. He could already see you, the little smirk on your face as you teased him for getting so worked up over nothing. Oh, you'd have a good laugh about this one.

And it was with the image of you in his mind that Childe passed out.

~~~

Childe barely remembered the weeks that had followed. He distinctly remembered not going to the funeral, partially because he would be arrested on the spot, but mostly because that would mean accepting it all, and he was not ready for that.

He still wasn't sure he accepted it.

And so, here he was. This wasn't your spot, the little cove with the rock and perfectly placed tree where you were constantly unearthing the most perfect starconches, but it was the Liyue shore, and that was all it took. Childe studied the shell in his hand for a moment, brushing the remaining flecks of sand off slowly as he did.

This was the prettiest one he had seen in a while. There weren't any visible cracks and the color was the richest blue, exactly like the one you had given him so long ago.

Childe considered the conch for a moment longer before sliding it into his pocket and turning away from waves.

"Why? Why won't you move on?"

Childe sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat as he trudged up the shore. The little shell rubbed against his fingers and even though he knew there was no one there, he spoke out loud.

"It reminds me of you. Everything does."

[whumpy-writings]

Fed and Watered

Masterlist

The story of 023, aka Henri, and Aldon continues. @thecyrulik asked if Henri's life was going to get better, so here is some comfort and fluff for poor Henri. This post is also dedicated to @whumpsy-daisy , 023's number 1 fan!

CW: Vampires, slavery, dehumanization, anxiety, starvation, disordered eating, mention of past physical and mental abuse, nudity (non-explicit/non-sexual), scars, (and fluff, I promise)

The last thing he remembered was Master telling him to breathe. Now the ground beneath him was soft.. No. Not the ground. A bed. Henri’s eyes flew open in a panic. Humans weren’t allowed on beds. He rolled to the side, falling off the bed and onto the wooden floor. Oof. He rubbed his sore nose, wincing. Henri looked around the room. It was large with dark wooden furniture giving it a sense of finery. The walls were lined with red tapestries which depicted various scenes from folklore.

Henri’s eyes stopped when they reached a small table. On the table was a bowl, and he could see the steam rising from it. Terror swept through him. Master had said it would be a couple days but apparently had changed his mind. Henri crawled over so he could clearly be seen from the door and knelt, heart pounding. Breathe, he told himself. In... out...in...out. His mind started to wander. This was his life, all he was was a meal for his betters. But sometimes… sometimes he still wished for more. He tried to push those thoughts away but they always came back, sneaking into the corners of his mind that weren’t completely dark. Thoughts of a life without fear. A life without pain. He jumped as the door opened, heart in his throat. Master stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders almost filling the entire frame. Master’s eyes fell on Henri, and Henri had to suppress the urge to flinch. A frown.

“You don’t need to do that here, Henri, you can stand up.” Henri rushed to get to his feet, a wave of dizziness hitting him. Next thing he knew, Master was next to him, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Careful there.” Master glanced over to the table with the soup, a crease on his brow. “Why haven’t you eaten, Henri? You must be starving.” Henri looked from the soup to Master and back again, confused. He wasn’t allowed to eat yet. Henri tipped his head to the side, exposing his neck for Master.

“No, I don’t want that,” Master said quickly.

Henri let out a sob. He was so hungry, but he couldn’t eat yet. “Please Master, please I’m so hungry and I can’t eat until you have.”

…

Aldon froze, shocked. He had never heard of such a thing. “Was that your old Master’s rule?”

“Yes sir.” Aldon considered this, horror building in his stomach.

“How often did your Master feed?” he asked.

“Usually about three times a week, sir,” Henri replied quietly.

Aldon gaped. No wonder the human was so weak. Humans needed to eat at least once every day, much more often than vampires. Aldon took a deep breath, thinking of what to say.

“Here there is a different rule. I need you to be healthy, and eating three times a week is not going to accomplish that. You’re to eat everyday, whether or not it’s a feeding day. Anytime you’re hungry, let me know and I’ll get you some food.”

Henri looked at him in shock, big blue eyes huge. Then he started to cry. “Thank you for your kindness, Master.”

Aldon’s heart broke a little at being thanked for granting the bare minimum for survival. “Of course, Henri. Now why don’t you eat your soup? I’m going to go draw a bath for you.”

…

The soup was heavenly. It was warm, with potatoes and carrots and onions. There was a slice of bread too, which filled his mouth with yeasty deliciousness. Henri savored each bite. When he was done he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. He was full. He hadn’t been full in… he didn’t even know how long.

...

Aldon felt the bath water. Not too hot, not too cold. He turned off the tap, drying his hands on the nearby towel. Time to get Henri. Aldon walked down the hall, gently rapping on the door before poking his head in. “The bath is all ready. Did you eat?”

Henri nodded vigorously, a ghost of a smile on his pale face. “Yes Master, Thank you Master.” He got out of the chair, hesitating for an instance. “Master…” he said, face going white, “I’m sorry for using the furniture without permission. Please forgive me.”

Aldon took a calming breath. Henri’s old master was certifiably, undeniably, an awful person. “No need to apologize Henri, you are allowed to use any of the furniture that you want.”

The relief was apparent on Henri’s face.“Thank you, Master.”

Aldon turned around hurriedly so Henri would not see the rage on his face. The ways some people treated their humans were just despicable.

“Come on Henri, let’s get you cleaned up.” Henri followed Aldon down the hall to the bathroom. It was small, with a white clawfoot tub and floors and walls covered in white ceramic tiles. This was one of the few houses in this part of the city that had the luxury of running water. Aldon turned back to Henri, only to find the man already undressed, pants on the floor. Aldon turned away immediately, cheeks burning.

“Is something the matter, Master?” Henri asked, voice filled with uncertainty and a tinge of fear

.

“No, I just was going to give you privacy to change. You’re allowed privacy here,” he quickly added.

“Oh,” a pause. “Thank you, Master,” Henri said quietly.

“You can climb in the tub now.” Aldon averted his eyes as Henri climbed in, then turned to the human sitting in the tub, bubbles up to his chest. “Would you like help bathing, or will you be able to do it on your own?” he asked carefully.

Henri considered this for a moment. “I would like a bit of help with my back and my hair, if you would be willing to. This hair is… a mess.” he said, gesturing to the greasy blond mop on his head.

“I can definitely help you with that.” Aldon knelt down next to the tub and picked up a cloth. He could hear Henri’s elevated breathing and could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “You’re okay Henri, how about we take a couple breaths?” Aldon led Henri through a couple rounds of deep breathing, until the human had calmed down.

“I’m sorry Master,” Henri said, staring down at the water, regret thick in his voice.

“Hey,” Aldon said, reaching out and taking Henri’s chin in his hand, gently making him look up at him. Henri’s blue eyes sparkled, threatening to spill tears. “I know this has been a big change for you. Anybody would be nervous in your place. I’m really proud of how well you’re doing.”

Henri blushed. “Thank you, Master.” he said.

“Of course, Henri,” Aldon said, picking up his cloth and dipping it in the water. He started to gently rub his back. Aldon pressed his lips together. Every single rib and vertebra was visible, creating deep ridges in the skin. Henri was covered in dirt and the water quickly starting to take on a brownish hue. Aldon paused when he glanced at Henri’s neck. There was a scar there, two actually. They were parallel to each other, running from the base of his skull all the way to the collarbone. Almost as if… someone had dragged their fangs down his neck. Aldon pursed his lips, fingers lingering on the scar. Henri froze, beneath his touch. “Henri, who did this to you?”

Henri didn’t respond for a second, and Aldon started to worry that maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. Then finally Henri said, “Mas… Old Master” A pause. “I… I tried to run away.” Aldon cocked an eyebrow at that. Henri continued in a rush. “I know I shouldn’t have, that I should have been grateful for his protection. I didn’t make it far. This,” his fingers went to the scars, lightly tracing them “was my punishment. He wanted to make sure I knew who I belonged to. I’ll never try to run away from you, Master. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Aldon couldn’t see Henri’s face, but he could hear the sadness in his voice. Anger bubbled to the surface. How dare someone do that to another creature? Aldon pushed his feelings down. He would deal with it later.

“Thank you for telling me that, Henri.” There was silence for a while, Aldon moving on to Henri’s hair. It was matted with dirt and grease, tangled into knots. Aldon worked his fingers into the knots, slowly loosening them. After a while of working, he noticed that Henri was much more relaxed, his breathing steady. He smiled to himself. “Well, I think I’m done. Can you rinse your hair for me?”

Henri nodded, ducking quickly under the water. When he came up he was smiling. “Thank you, Master. That was wonderful.”

Aldon gave a quick nod, not trusting his voice. He cleared his throat. “You can finish up, and then get changed. There are some clothes for you on the table.” Henri nodded. Aldon left the room, quietly shutting the door behind them. Then he leaned back against it, head tilted back, and smiled.

Tag list: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik @neverthelass @michelleswhumpyreblogs @whumpsy-daisy

[redorich]

What do you think about Protoge!Tommy? I'd think it'd be a bit harder for the hermits to help him compared to Hermit!Tommy.

See, that’s almost kind of what Dream was trying to do to Tommy (at least in my version of the AU). I glossed over it a bit, but Tommy does wear Dream’s mask. Now, say that we start an AU a bit to the left, where Dream got more time to bend Tommy to his will before he lost it and sent Tommy off into Hermitcraft to keep him safe from the dreamon possessing the admin. It’s just long enough for Dream to trust that he can teach Tommy without Tommy using his teachings against him. Tommy’s not broken completely, but it’s enough to start.

Obviously, Dream doesn’t teach Tommy everything. Even if he had the time and the patience, he’s got to keep a trick or ten up his sleeve, so that he can put Tommy back down on the ground where he belongs should Tommy ever get any ideas.

He doesn’t want a useless heir, though, so he puts Tommy through boot camp. Tommy is never allowed more than five or six hours of sleep per night, until he stops having nightmares and he can fall asleep instantly, on the bare ground or buried in the sand or hidden up in a tree. Dream runs him through drills: sword forms, hand-to-hand, ground fighting, all of it. He makes Tommy do them until he can dissociate through the whole kata and still have done it satisfactorily, no matter how much his weak legs tremble from exhaustion. 

He attacks Tommy at random, to train his reflexes (and, not so secretly, to smell that delectable fear). Tommy learns to duck his chin at the slightest move toward his neck, to drop like a stone when he senses someone sneaking up behind him, to follow up his blocks with a punch before registering who or what is attacking him. He learns through painful trial and error how to fall in such a way that maximizes surface area and minimizes the bruising. His awkward somersaults turn into smooth rolls that he can immediately transition into a sprint from. 

Dream asks catch-22 questions and demands answers. Faster, he barks out, pushing Tommy to his limit both mentally and physically until Tommy inevitably fails, just so Dream can punish him. He asks questions that Tommy has no way of knowing the answers to, because Dream has never taught him. He demands Tommy address him as Sir, and punishes Tommy when he doesn’t start a sentence with “Sir”, even after Dream demands he drop the honorific.

Tommy learns the most important lesson of all: life isn’t fair, and he’s not the one in charge. He does what Dream says, and sometimes he gets punished even when he doesn’t do anything wrong, just because that’s Dream’s right. All Tommy can do is go above and beyond, obey orders to a tee and exceed Dream’s expectations, exceed the limits of his own body, in order to measure up as best he can. Sometimes, when Tommy injures himself trying to be somewhere in the ballpark of how good Dream is, Dream makes him stand at attention and reams him, but afterward he makes Tommy lie down and eat food that isn’t raw or just pulled out of the ground, and he runs his hands through Tommy’s filthy hair and speaks cruel things, but this time intersperses them with praise and consolations.

This time around, when Dream finally gets ahold of himself enough to realize he’s about to kill Tommy, that he needs to send the kid away somewhere where neither he nor the dreamon can get at him, things are more difficult. Tommy’s a lot better at fighting, and any excuse to attempt to kill Dream is one he’ll take whole-heartedly. This means that Dream has to take the fight a lot more seriously, and... Well, things happen.

Dream makes a portal to a server unknown even to him. Tommy staggers backward into the portal with wide eyes and a foot of sharpened netherite in his chest.

When the kid disappears through the portal, Dream collapses to his knees on the sand. There’s so much inside his head-- he has no clue whether he succeeded in saving Tommy or succeeded in killing him.

Tommy wakes up in a jungle, still speared upon Dream’s sword. He shudders, but yanks it out-- it’ll make him bleed out faster, but with a big fuck-off blade in his chest it’s unlikely he’ll live anyway.

The sword clatters to the dirt, flickering into incorporeality. Tommy feels no pain. Why doesn’t he feel pain?

He looks down. The giant tear in his fucking flesh is nothing more than an ugly black smear. His entire body is washed out, semi-transparent just like the sword he stole from Dream by virtue of it being in his fucking chest.

Tommy is... He’s like Wilbur. He’s a ghost.

[miyanom]

DEVILS PARADISE (part two)

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!READER

synopsis: arriving in paradis, y/n slowly grows close to the devils she was taught to hate.

warnings: mentions of death, let me know if I need to add anything else!

notes: i feel like this chapter isn’t the best, but i wanted to write about y/n and jean a little and also write about y/n’s friendships with the people of Paradis before we head into trost arc.

word count: 2479

Shaky breaths fell from Y/N’s chapped lips as she held on tightly to Annie, keeping the unconscious girl from slipping off the Armoured Titan’s shoulder as he ran through the town beyond the wall.

Reiner had his hands raised to protect the others from the rubble of the gate as he crashed through, but as his hands moved to his sides once more, Y/N found her eyes widening.

Chaos. It was utter chaos.

Homes had been crushed from debris that went flying after the Colossal Titan kicked the gate, people had been crushed in attempts to escape, and mindless Titans were flooding into the city.

Y/N’s eyes continued to scan the area, only stopping as they fell onto a woman screaming for her husband who had been crushed beneath a Boulder.

With an arm still wrapped around Annie, Y/N used her other hand to pull them closer toward the armoured titan’s neck, fear coursing through her veins as the image of the crushed body weighed heavy in her mind.

The Marleyan’s words echoed through her head, reminding her of the sins of the Eldians; the sins that brought this destruction to them.

But Y/N couldn’t stop herself from questioning the things she had been taught as more screams filled the evening air.

Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it?

“Armin Arlert, from Shiganshina District, sir!” A blonde boy answered the training instructor.

If Y/N remembered correctly, it was Shiganshina that the warriors destroyed all those years ago. The day still weighed heavy on her heart, though she knew it was the only way.

What other choice did they have? If they were to go home to Marley without the Founding Titan, their terms would end prematurely.

“Yeah? That’s a stupid name. Your parents give you that?” Shadis questioned.

“My grandfather!”

“Arlert, what are you doing here?!”

“Trying to aid humanity’s victory!” Armin answered immediately.

When ordered to about face, Y/N’s eyes met Armin’s cerulean. Trying to aid humanity’s victory… humanity’s victory would only come when the devils were gone, that’s what Marley told them all.

The instructor passed by Y/N, barely sparing the girl even the smallest of glances as he moved down the row.

Jean Kirstein was the name Y/N heard as she tuned back into the initiation. His goal caused the girl to frown in distaste, and it took everything in her to not just roll her eyes.

To live a safe life in the interior, he had said.

The island devils truly were selfish, Y/N realised.

How could anyone hear about what happened in Shiganshina and choose to escape further into the walls? Do the devils not care about their own?

Would they rather save themselves than save the people they care for by ridding the world of Titans?

If Y/N were in their shoes, she knew what she would pick; the chance to save the people she cared about.

That’s why she was here, after all. It was why she went through the rigorous training of the warrior unit. All to make her family honorary Marleyans, to save them from the life of the Eldians.

She was here, pretending to be an island devil, pretending to be the thing she was taught to hate, all for her family.

The devils couldn’t say the same, they wanted to retreat further into the walls, into what they believed was safe.

If only they knew…

“Huh? You’re from Wall Maria, too?” Mina’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at Y/N, who sat across the table.

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly as she nodded. It was a cover story the warriors had come up with a while ago, it made it easier for them to blend in when the survivors of Wall Maria found refuge in Wall Rose.

A family had unexpectedly taken Y/N in just a few months after the attack. It wasn’t Y/N’s idea to take them up on their offer, they were devils, after all.

But Reiner had urged her, he told her it could help them with their mission, that perhaps this family could provide more insight into life inside the walls.

He had been right.

The family helped Y/N understand what life was like for the devils of Paradis, though she’d never tell Reiner and the others just how much she had come to pity these people.

The family had lost their son when the armoured Titan broke through the inner gate, apparently he was a soldier in the Garrison.

Y/N spent nights upon nights thinking about that. Each night giving her more and more reasons to think that maybe the devils didn’t deserve what the warriors had been brought here to do.

That family had shown her kindness, a kindness she never saw from own mother. So maybe-

No. This is the only way, Y/N repeated to herself. This is the only way…

“Y/N?” Mina spoke up again, staring at her with concern painted across her visage. “Are you alright?”

“Ye.. yeah.” Y/N nodded, averting her gaze nervously. “I just- it’s not easy to think about what happened.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. Y/N hated thinking about the day she arrived inside the walls, whenever she remembered it, she remembered all those bodies she saw…

She remembered the screams and the blood, and the thought that maybe the Eldians were innocent and it was them who were the bad guys.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry for asking,” Mina let out a sigh, placing her hand over Y/N’s that rested on the table. “I’m-”

“It’s okay,” Y/N shook her head, quickly knocking Mina’s hand away as she stood up and grabbed her plate. “We should get going anyways, everyone’s cleaning up.”

As Y/N left the mess hall, she let out a frustrated sigh. No, that wasn’t suspicious at all…

Oddly enough, learning to use the odm gear the devils designed to kill Titans came fairly easy to Y/N. And before she knew it, they were moving onto hand-to-hand combat training.

When Y/N had been assigned to the mission to attack Paradis, she never expected she would join yet another military program. Not when the things they were learning for the first time here, were things she had known before she was even 10 years old.

“Go easy on the devils,” Reiner had warned them. “We don’t want suspicion to be drawn to us. Not now, we’re too close.”

Y/N hated to admit that he was right. Not about being close to the finish line, but about not wanting to draw suspicion to themselves.

But it was hard to remember his warning when she had been partnered with Jean Kirstein for training… She had known it on the day they met, and she knew it now, almost three years later.

Jean was a selfish, cocky bastard.

“Aw come on. You can do better than that.” His annoying laugh filled her ears as she quickly turned back to look at him, her eyes narrowing into a glare as her grip on the wooden knife tightened slightly. “By the time you take me down, I could’ve taken on at least eight people.”

“Yeah, why don’t you try testing that, Jean?” His name fell from her lips with venom as she chucked the knife in his direction, watching as he caught it with ease.

How much more annoying could he possibly get? Y/N asked herself.

Jean rolled his shoulders back in a stretch before getting into the correct stance, and within seconds, he was running at Y/N.

His eyes widened as the girl grabbed onto his arm, twisting herself around so her back was facing him as she kept pressure on his arm to keep the knife pointed away from her. This wasn’t a move they were taught by the trainers, he realised immediately.

He reached out for the knife with his other hand, though as soon as Y/N caught his movement, she kicked her left leg back, her foot slamming against his bottom calf causing his knee to buckle beneath him.

Putting all her strength into it, Y/N took advantage of Jean’s shaky footing, throwing him over her shoulder and watching as his back hit the dirt with a loud groan of pain falling from his lips.

With a smirk, she crouched down to pick up the knife, twirling it between her fingers as she glanced back at him.

He was still on the floor, staring up at her with wide eyes and a light blush painted across his cheeks. “Aw come on, Jean. You can do better than that,” she taunted.

Jean was ignoring her, Y/N realised as the trainees from the 104th settled down in the mess hall for dinner that night.

She didn’t blame him, she would be embarrassed too if she were in his shoes.

It wasn’t exactly his fault that she had been through this before, in a much harsher environment where the punishment for a failure like that was much worse than a simple comment made by their instructor.

Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her hand as her eyes scanned the dining hall, the sound of chatter filling the room. It wasn’t like this back in Marley, they would always eat in silence, in fear.

But in Paradis, those fears no longer weighed heavy on her shoulders. She no longer had to sleep with one eye open, terrified the Marleyans would decide to torch Liberio in the middle of the night.

She would never say it aloud, but maybe the devils were right to flee and hide here.

“-right, Y/N?” Christa’s voice snapped Y/N out of her thoughts, causing her to quickly turn around.

“Huh?”

“There she goes drifting off again,” Ymir commented, her arms crossed as she stared at Y/N. “With an attitude like that, you’ll become Titan chow the second you step outside these walls.”

Christa had quickly become Y/N’s friend within the first year of training, now that they were coming close to the end of the third and final year, Y/N realised that she had practically been inseparable from Ymir and Christa during training.

Maybe she had followed Reiner’s orders too quickly, he told them to blend in with the devils. Or maybe she had found peace within the unexpected kindness… it was wrong, that’s all she really knew.

She wasn’t supposed to be getting along with the island devils, she wasn’t supposed to call them her friends and wish they would be far away from Trost when the warriors plan comes to fruition.

But they were kind, they weren’t anything like how Marley described them to be.

A conflicted feeling settled in Y/N’s stomach once more as she averted her gaze, no longer able to look Christa and Ymir in the eyes without remembering what was to happen.

They didn’t deserve it, they didn’t deserve it.

Or did they? Their ancestors had committed atrocities against the entire world, after all.

But that was their ancestors, not them. Christa, Ymir, Mina, the family that had taken her in when they found out she was a so-called orphan from Wall Maria… they didn’t do what the Eldians of the past had done, they didn’t kill anyone, did they really deserve to pay for crimes they didn’t know about?

Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts once more as Ymir waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry,” Y/N muttered, glancing at the girls who sat at the table with her.

Christa stared back with a look of concern, while Ymir seemed to not care that much at all.

“Anyways,” Ymir looked back at Christa. “I was just telling Christa here all about the tension between you and that cocky bastard when you knocked him on his ass in training today.” The girl seemed to smirk slightly as her eyes flickered back to Y/N. “I didn’t realise blockhead two had a crush on-”

“And I was telling Ymir that it’s not like that. You would’ve told me, right, Y/N?” Christa asked, looking back and forth between her and Ymir as she awaited an answer.

Y/N couldn’t tell how Ymir had come to the conclusion that she and Jean were crushing on each other, not when they had nothing but bicker constantly. Maybe almost as much as Eren and Jean did, and everyone knew how bad that was.

“It’s not like that,” Y/N confirmed, beginning to pick at her breadroll. “He was being his usual annoying self, and I put him in his place.”

“Yeah, well, looked like he enjoys being put in his place,” Ymir teased. “If you know what I-”

“Ymir!” Christa squeaked out, staring at the taller girl with wide eyes. “You’re going to embarrass them.”

I can’t like Jean, or anybody for that matter, Y/N wished she could tell them.

How could she let herself fall for an island devil? It would be enough to get her killed when she returns to Marley. Retrieving the Founding Titan wouldn’t make up for the sin of loving a devil.

No, befriending them for the sake of the mission was one thing, but loving them?

And Jean of all people? She would never love him. Even if he was from Marley and she was allowed to fall for him, she wouldn’t.

“An easy life, deep inside the walls?” Eren spoke up, his eyes narrowed in Jean’s direction.

The tone of his voice was enough to break Y/N out of her thoughts as she realised the boys would undoubtedly get into another fight.

Her eyes flickered toward Reiner, a frown tugging at her lips. It reminded her too much of how Porco was always fighting Reiner back in Marley.

“Until five years ago, this was considered deep inside the walls,” Eren continued.

“What’s your point, Eren?” Jean crossed his arms.

“You don’t need to go to the interior.” Eren placed his cup on the table. “You’ve gone soft enough in your own head, Jean.”

Y/N hid her smile by resting her head in the palm of her head, though her smile faltered for a moment when her eyes met Jean’s, who had turned to look in her direction.

As Jean turned back toward Eren, the boy began speaking again. “Don’t you think it’s strange that we’re training to fight Titans, just to end up farther away from them?”

“Who cares? For my own sake, I hope they keep this stupid system,” Jean told him.

Right, the island devils were selfish people.

And Y/N was definitely not going to fall for Jean Kirstein. Not in a million years.

[mingoyeob-archive]

17)you look ... Whoa...

52)if you don't stop I won't hesitate to kill you,

56)This was a bad idea,

60)Yup we're doomed,

75)that's it, I am going to kill him,

4)hold on, you aren't jealous, are you?

with Jk, reader, jimin and Tae. Please!!! 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

hi anons! thanks for requesting! i did #75 with jjk and tae just because I was already planning to go that route with the other anons request! sorry its taking me a little long to get through these my weekend was so busy 😭 but I appreciate everyone being patient as I'm trying my best to make these enjoyable for you guys :) hope you like it! 💜💜

7. you look ... Whoa… + 52. if you don't stop I won't hesitate to kill you + 56. This was a bad idea + 60. Yup we're doomed + 75. that's it, I am going to kill him + 4. hold on, you aren't jealous, are you? | jjk x reader, ft jimin and tae tae | word count: 2.2K

During the autumn season, everyone had to be on top of their game. No plate, mug nor drape could be out of place especially since Jungkook, the Duke, was back at the castle for the first time in three years. And with the season harvest just around the corner and family members flocking to the castle from every corner of the land, it had everyone at their wits end, including you. Even though this technically wasn’t your first harvest at Uwhen, it would be your first time meeting the Jeon family who saw no reason to come and visit when Jungkook wasn’t here. But now with him back it suddenly became of the utmost importance that you made a good first impression.

Jungkook could sense your nervousness (he seemed to have a knack for that) and it only served to make him even more moody. It wasn’t news that Jungkook hated his family. Most of them were uptight and had judged him for his choice in picking you to marry instead of your sister who was much more admired amongst the kingdom. Not that he cared, but their nagging was a pain in the ass nonetheless.

To curb some of the tension in the castle, Seokjin suggested that perhaps a hunting party would be a good way to blow off some steam and whatever they caught could be used for the feast, effectively killing two birds with one stone. So that was how you, Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung had ended up on horseback out in the middle of the forest.

“Looking good on that horse Y/N!” Jimins loud comment had you looking away shyly, “Hard to believe Jungkookie got you that out of the kindness of his heart. Don’t you agree, Taehyung?”

“Yeah sir, if I come to your bedroom tonight can I have a new horse too?”

The two of them just laughed, bumping shoulders atop their horses before catching sight of the fumes practically radiating from Jungkook as he leveled them with a glare. “If you don't stop I won't hesitate to kill you.”

His words had them shutting up immediately, looking at each other with wide eyes before muttering out half-assed apologies. The rest of the ride ended up being pretty quiet, the boys too busty scouting the trees for game and trying to find something to kill to hold a conversation. You on the other hand were bored out of your mind and not to mention your ass was hurting from riding longer than you were ever used to.

“Don’t you guys think it's time to turn back?”

“Shh!”

Their efforts to silence you had you rolling your eyes and you just sighed, horse trudging behind them. A pout settled on your lips and you glared at the back of their heads hoping that they would pick up on your fury and finally concede. But of course, that didn’t work and they just continued riding on in silence. This can not get any worse, you thought with a whine. But the sudden sound of your horse whinnying, spooked by something on the path, had you eating your words and the next thing you knew you were lying flat on your ass in the dirt. Thankfully all the commotion had snapped the guys out of their trance and they immediately turned around to come to your aid. Jungkook was the first one off his horse, rushing over to you in concern.

“Y/N! What happened? Are you okay? Let me see!” He fired off questions rapidly, barely giving you a chance to respond. You could only sit, dazed and confused at what just happened. Jungkook groaned at your lack of response, “This was a bad idea, I should've never listened to Seokjin.”

Jimin and Taehyung stood to the right of you two, looking down with worry in their eyes. “Jungkook, maybe we should start heading back. It's getting dark outside anyway and we don’t want to be out here when night falls.” Jimins said, eyes flicking up to look at the darkening sky. “Y/N can ride with you and we’ll get her horse.”

His words instantly had you shooting up from your spot. “No! No, I’m perfectly capable of riding back. It was just a little fall. I’ll be fine” you smiled, trying your best to hide the pain in your backside, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching when you felt a twinge shoot up your spine. Jungkook disagreed judging by the look he shot at you at your obvious lie and he opened his mouth to voice his opinion, but before he could even get a word out a distant howl rang through the air. The sound had the band of horses rearing back, letting out loud neighs and noises of freight.

“Whoa there!” Taehyung waved his hands up at the animals, trying his best to calm them, but to no avail, and they took off down the path leaving the four of you behind. He could only stare off at them with a look of disbelief before turning around and throwing his hands up in defeat. “Yup we’re doomed.”

The rest of you just shot him a look of annoyance obviously aware of the fact that all of you were in fact doomed. “Thanks Taehyung, I had no idea.” Jimin said sarcastically to which Taehyung just shrugged in response.

Despite the initial shock of being stranded in the forest, the boys didn’t seem to be too worried about how they were going to find their way back. Combined, the three of them had more than enough experience and the skill it took to navigate out of here. You on the other hand were completely lost and had no idea what the hell they were doing. So instead of getting in their way you decided perhaps it would be best if you found somewhere to clean yourself off.

Getting away from the boys was easy enough, especially when they were too busy arguing over which one of them was correct about which way was north. What was hard though was getting through knee high grass and stepping over gnarled branches as you struggled your way over to the creek you could hear just off the path. When you finally made it over it didn’t take long to start pulling off the dirty weighted fabric of your dress that left you only in your sheer white chemise.

“Another dress bites the dust.” you muttered amused as you bent over the water, scrubbing at your ruined dress. You were so preoccupied with the task you didn’t even notice the sound of boots stomping through the woods over the trickling sound of the rushing water.

“Y/N?” Taehyung's voice had your head snapping over to face the man as he stood just outside the brush. His face was full of shock as he looked at you with wide eyes,  “You look..Whoa…”

Immediately you let out a shriek and fell back on your ass, desperately trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung! What the hell are you doing?! Get outta here pervert!” you shouted, throwing pebbles from the shore of the creak in his direction in a futile attempt to try and get him to turn around.

Jungkook and Jimin must have heard you and followed the noise over to you two to see what all the commotion was about. The two of them came crashing from the same spot Taehyung had, swords raised in alarm and surveying the area to try and find the enemy. But when they were only met with the sight of you barely covered on the ground and Taehyung standing there staring like an idiot, they dropped their weapons and just looked back and forth between you two confused. Taehyung could only raise his hands in innocence, “It’s not what it looks like I promise!”

Jungkooks face slowly started to morph from confusion to anger, eyebrows furrowing and his jaw tensing. “That's it, I’m going to kill him!” he shouted charging in Taehyung's direction. Jimin couldn’t act fast enough and rushed after the man, trying to hold him back from actually cutting Taehyung's head off where he stood. You didn’t even have time to think about it before you jumped off the ground to cover him, facing Jungkook with your hands out in an attempt to calm him down.

“Jungkook, stop!” you screamed to which he seemed to ignore, too dead set on killing Taehyung. “It really isn’t what it looks like, just please calm down!” you continued with your efforts of trying to diffuse the situation but your attempts didn’t seem to be working. In a last ditch effort to stop Jungkook's rampage you charged forward, lips sealing over his and hands grasping at his face. Immediately the tension started leaving Jungkook’s body, his shoulders relaxing as he melted into your kiss, his own hands coming up to cradle your cheeks as well.

Noticing that Jungkook seemed to be pacified (at least for the moment), Jimin slowly retracted his arms from around him, backing up and gesturing Taehyung over to him hurriedly. Taehyung took advantage of your distraction and stumbled over to him, hugging the man as if his life depended on it. “Jiminie I almost died, did you see that?!”

Jimins cheeks filled with heat and his face blossomed red at the feeling of Taehyung's arms around him. “Of course I did, idiot. If I hadn’t, you probably would’ve been dead before Y/N got to him.” he mumbled as he pushed the man off him, trying his best to pretend that he didn’t secretly like it (not that he did a good job of it). Taehyung just whined at the thought, shaking his head as he struggled with Jimin to keep him in his hold.

While the two wrestled in the background, you and Jungkook continued your passionate embrace, lips locked and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. You had completely forgotten why you had kissed him in the first place, too caught up in the feeling of his mouth on yours and how the world seemed to fade away when you were in his hold. The feeling of Jungkook's tongue swiping at your lips is what had you recoiling back into yourself, too embarrassed to go any further. “Jungkook…” you muttered shyly and placed your hands on his chest trying to gently push him away.

He just continued to hold you tighter, lips finding their way to your neck instead and kissing his way down your shoulder. For a second you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling, a small gasp even leaving your lips. That was until you made eye contact with Jimin and Taehyung who were watching you two with amused smiles and wiggling eyebrows, mocking the two of you by making kissing noises and pursed lips. It made you try and escape Jungkook's grasp even harder. “Jungkook, they’re watching!” You whine, hiding your face in his shoulder in embarrassment.

Jungkook just hummed, “Just ignore them.” he said, continuing to pepper soft kisses along your skin. “I’ll stop once they remember who you belong to.” You could feel the smirk on his lips against your shoulder and you just sighed, eyes begging towards the two boys over Jungkook's shoulders.

Jimin must’ve decided that he’d had enough of yours and Jungkook's show of affection and took pity on you, “She’s a woman not a piece of furniture, Jungkookie! Don’t think she belongs to anyone but herself.” he said with a laugh to which Jungkook just responded with a grunt, shooting the man a scowl over his shoulder.

“Hold on, you aren't jealous, are you?” Taehyung questioned. Jungkook leveled him with a glare upset with the fact that the man had even dared to speak to him. Taehyung took his lack of response as a ‘yes’, “Trust me, sir, I am not after your wife. She’s not even my type!”

“Well what is your type?” Jimin’s question came out of nowhere causing everyone to shoot him a look of confusion. “I mean- see! Problem solved! Now can we head back now?!” He didn’t even wait for a response before turning around and rushing back from where they came. Taehyung hurried behind him, questions flying from his lips at what Jimin had meant to which he received no answer.

“I should lock him in the dungeons for even looking in your direction from now on.” Jungkook seethed, tightening his hold on you. You wheezed out a laugh, struggling to breathe in Jungkook's hold, before pushing on him hard enough that he finally let you go.

“There’s no need for that, love.” The affectionate nickname slipped out of your mouth before you even realized, but Jungkook heard it all the same, a smile instantly stretching across his lips as he reached out to try and ensnare you again. You narrowly avoided his grasp, dodging his hand and letting out a tut, “Ah ah ah! You can hug me all you want when we get back to the castle, but right now I’d like a bath and some clothes that aren’t covered in dirt.”

Jungkook chuckled and reached out again, this time capturing you and causing you to let out a squeak as he pulled you in closer once again. “Fine.” he muttered, bending down to place a gentle peck on your lips before pulling back to shoot you a wink, “But when we get back I’m doing a lot more than just hugging you.”

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 3:  Quicksand

AN:  Okay, so this admittedly goes a little slow at the very beginning, more snooping and such, but I promise it picks back up about halfway through.  And will pick up from here on out.

Characters:  Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, numerous BG characters

Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Vampire!Reader

Warnings:  Language, Peril (Temporary)

Word Count:  6940

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

*Levi’s POV*

You could tell a lot about a person from how they treated animals.

For the Scouts, it was the horses especially that mattered, as they were one of the few lifelines out beyond the walls.  With how the horses had avoided L/N with everything they had, people in the vicinity would mutter about how she would never go beyond the walls at this rate, or how she had to be a bad person and the horses were sensing it.

That was one theory to go with.

However, as Levi continued to watch her, he never once saw her get angry or frustrated with them.  Sometimes there was sadness, or it looked like she was on the edge of admitting defeat, but she continued to approach them with patient understanding, as if she knew exactly what they were afraid of, and was asking them not to be because she couldn’t change it.

Gradually, the dappled grey allowed her to come closer and closer.  They started having problems giving someone else the job of cleaning the stables because she was spending so much of her free time in there, and she would clean while there to allow her to spend more time around the horses and give her something else to do besides just sitting there waiting for skittish horses to calm down.  She was smart enough to know that she needed more than just one to calm down around her, though she was still putting in the work to form a bond with at least one.  In case she was ever in a position where she needed another horse, though, it seemed she wanted the other horses to at least be comfortable with her presence--hence all the time spent in the stables.

If she wasn’t out in the field walking with the mare, then she was inside by the horse’s stall, leaning against the wall or sitting against the door.  Then, at long last, she could be seen walking around side by side with her horse, the lead short and fairly loose.  And after a few days holding a treat into the stall and waiting for the horse to feel comfortable coming up to her to eat it out of her hand, she finally made it /into/ the stall.  Her hard work was paying off, as now she could be found inside the stall, gently brushing the dappled grey mare while she spoke in soft tones to the horse, continuing to build up the trust and bond between the two of them.

As Levi stepped into the stables, he could hear her speaking softly with the mare, her words underlined with each thoughtful brush stroke.

“There we go...that’s a good girl...see, just like I said, nothing to be afraid of.  I know I’m scary, you all remind me every time I come in here, but I’m not going to hurt you.  I don’t want to hurt anyone--I’m just here to help.  See, that feels much better, doesn’t it?  I’m not going to hurt you.  I promise as long as I’m around, nothing’s going to hurt you.  There we go...Steady...Shh…”

Levi’s head turned slightly at the subject of her rambling, his gaze following down the line until he spotted the stall his horse was in, not far from L/N’s horse.

“You don’t mind all my rambling, do you, Zephyr?  It’s nice to talk to someone, even if they’re not going to talk back.  I haven’t had anyone to talk to in…”  She grew quiet, and even the brushing stopped for a moment.  Curious.  “...too long,” she finished, her voice hardly above a whisper.

She seemed to quiet down entirely as Levi risked stepping into the stables, and he realized he had been heard, or at the very least she’d become aware she wasn’t by herself.  Continuing forward casually, Levi turned his head to look into the stable as he passed, spotting L/N with the brush set off to the side and currently working on undoing any tangles in Zephyr’s mane.  Their eyes met for a moment, and Levi paused.

“Will she let you ride her, yet?”

She turned away, the faintest touch of red entering her cheeks at the mention of her trouble with the horses.  “Not yet.  But I don’t think it will be much longer before she does.”

Levi’s gaze swept over the stable, kept immensely clean with fresh straw, water, and food, and the coat on the horse smooth and lustrous.  At this rate, the mare was going to be more of a show horse than a war horse.

“You’re not slacking anywhere else, are you?” Levi asked as his gaze slipped over the pristine stall and back to her.  A stall didn’t get that clean without a lot of constant work.

“No, sir.  This is where I was lacking the most, so it’s getting more of my attention.  But I’m making sure other parts of my training aren’t suffering.”

Well, he’d be the judge of that.  With the way she held up in training, any degree of slipping would be easy to spot.

Levi resumed what he was doing, walking deeper into the stables to check on his horse, which he planned to take for a brief ride to stretch his legs.  “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” he added before L/N left his field of vision.  The stable was quiet for a few moments, broken only by the sound of Levi getting his horse ready to go.

So quietly he almost didn’t hear it, Levi got a reply.

“This one I can keep.”

Earlier in the day, Levi had jumped on the chance to get a more personal glimpse at L/N, taking over the cleanliness checks in the barracks, much to everyone else’s dismay.  He was well aware that his standards were far above everyone else’s, but today they were just going to have to deal with it, and step it up.  On the bright side, as he walked down the lines of beds, he was able to see who was terrible at doing a decent cleaning job and who had potential.

He gave criticisms at every bed--dust, missed spots, trying to hide part of the mess under the beds, half-assed jobs, on and on the list went.  When he got to L/N…

Now this was starting to get creepy.

His practiced eye swept over her space as she stood at attention just off to the side, taking in the bed spread smoothed of wrinkles, the dusted and wiped down surfaces, everything tucked away, floor swept and clean in her area--even a little into the surrounding spaces.  There wasn’t anything in the way of personal effects, though--not out in the open, anyway.

It was immaculate.  Up to his standards practically to a T.  It was an unexpected discovery, amongst the many things he thought he’d see.  He thought he might see a personal effect here or there that would give him a bit more on her personality, but there was nothing he could see during a cleanliness inspection.

He’d have to come back later.

Shit, I’m starting to sound like a goddamn stalker.

Carefully, Levi ran a hand on the underside of the bed, the nightstand, anywhere there might be dirt left over, and came away with nothing.

She was the only one he walked by without saying anything, because he had no critiques to give.  He wondered if she was always this clean, or she’d heard he was doing the inspections and pulled off a miracle.

He went back when there was no one around to do a more thorough search, still believing that she might have something that would tip him off a little more.  Frankly, if he continued to find a complete lack of personal effects, that would bolster his suspicions as well, because it signified something to be hidden or something that was trying to be forgotten, or a preparation to run at a moment’s notice.

He didn’t know what he would find, if anything, but if it was another lead, he would take it.

The barracks were currently empty, and he had made sure they’d be empty for a while, choosing the time there was a morning drill going on for the new recruits to sneak in and do some digging.

First he checked the footlocker at the end of her bed, opening it up and carefully shifting through.  Mostly it was made up of uniform clothes, a pair of nice plainclothes, a pair of casual plainclothes, a couple more comfortable workout clothes, a plain black cloak--

His hand paused on the cloak.  It looked like it could be the one being worn by the person he’d pursued and lost that one night.  Not a confirmation, but it was further evidence she was sneaking out at night, even if he hadn’t seen her face.

Finding nothing else suspicious in the footlocker, Levi checked under the bed and found only dress shoes and casual shoes, and then moved onto the nightstand.

Here, he found a book from the library on herbology with a bookmark on custom tea blends, as well as a tin of some of the said tins.  There was quite a bit of chamomile and mint from the whiff he was immediately hit with upon checking inside the tin, with a couple other blends--but mostly the chamomile and mint.  Inside, he also found a tightly bound bundle of white sage in a cloth covering, blank sheets of paper, more writing utensils than he would have expected, and a leather bound folio.  Opening it revealed no official documents missing from her background, no personal letters or intercepted reports.

Inside, it was gorgeous artwork.  Sketches of the horses in various poses of rest or activity, of the scenery around Wall Rose, a sketch of one of the few mansions in the district, and--

Levi paused, eyes widening as he stilled, the silence in the room pressing in on him.  His mind flashed back to just the other day, when he’d seen Zephyr out in the field away from the other horses, laying down and looking contently about, but not moving.  He’d only been able to make out part of L/N through the long grass, leaning against the horse with her knees pulled up, looking lost in something.  He’d assumed it was a book from the distance where he was once more leaning against the wall in the shadows of the stables, or that she was writing something.

Amongst the more recent drawings of the horses, there was a portrait of him, leaning against that wall at the stables, arms crossed, head slightly bowed but eyes centered on the observer, or, in this case, the artist.  Even the shade was accounted for, making the features a little more difficult to make out, but they were still clear and detailed.

She’d seen him well enough at that distance to make out and sketch his features in this detail?  Or had some of it been visualization?

More importantly, it was pretty much confirmation that she knew he was watching her.

Levi closed the folio, putting everything back in its proper place with care, feeling intrusive and out of place now that he’d failed to come up with anything malicious in nature.  There were only a couple things that made him uneasy with the implications, never anything that proved to be outright dangerous, as always.  And he couldn’t exactly say anything about the sketch of himself without her knowing he’d gone through her belongings.

Levi was gone long before the recruits returned to the barracks from their drill.

She’d slipped away from the main group after the next combat training session, hanging back and going a different direction than the rest of the group.  Levi had a brief moment where he thought she might be slipping away to the same place she went at night, and had followed her on the off chance that was the case.

She ended up going to a quiet corner of the Scout headquarters, at a corner of buildings near the forest that no one bothered with.  Once there, she kneeled down, tending to a cluster of plants that was lined up in the familiar form of a small garden.  It was fairly new, too, from what Levi could see, which told him she probably planted them herself not too long ago.  How long had she been working on this little side project?

Just another one of his suspicions turning out to be harmless activity.  He was just about ready to write off his uneasy feeling as paranoia.

He could have just walked off and left her alone, but he lingered, waiting until she finished what she was doing and left before he quietly approached the garden to satiate his own curiosity.

Kneeling down, he realized that the tiny garden was made up of plants, mainly herbs, that could be used in tea making.  There were brushes of mint, chamomile, and lemongrass as the most notable plants, and near the corner where they would get full sun and could help hide the little herb garden there were even three freshly planted bushes, hibiscus, raspberry, and rose, with the flowering bushes meant to support the raspberry in the middle.  The soil was dark and the leaves had beads of water still on them that shined on his thumb after a careful stroke against a leaf to see it healthy and strong, showing that L/N had been by to water them.  They were doing fairly well, from what he could see, even though the plants were too young to harvest anything from.

Was she attempting to grow the materials to make her own tea blends so she wouldn’t have to spend much of her salary on tea?

Standing to leave as that pesky feeling of intrusion started to worm its way back into his mind, Levi caught sight of a small collection of white sage, directly out in the sun and recently planted, but noticeably far away from the other plants.  It was curious, the way it was planted so that it couldn’t be missed and could be easily avoided.  At the same time, though, it could just have been an aggressively growing plant that would take over the other plants if it got too close to them.  While he knew it could also be used in teas, it wasn’t as common...and he’d seen a bundle of the sage spikes tightly bound and covered in her nightstand.

What was so special about it?  Why did she have it?

Levi shook his head, turning to leave and mentally filing the questions about the white sage under “personal questions” instead of “suspicions.”

His suspicions weren’t entirely gone.  While he was getting a stronger sense of her character that caused his doubts about her to waver, he still had some glaring questions he couldn’t ignore that caused his wariness to endure...for now.

ODM gear training--another essential part to life in the Scouts.  At this point in time, it was a chance for officers to get a feel for the skills of the cadets first hand instead of just what it said on paper about their Cadet Corps training.

The trees here were thick, allowing perfect cover for their Titan dummies spread sporadically throughout the woods.  At the highest points in the trees, the officers stood on platforms to observe quietly, moving from platform to platform as needed while the recruits moved through the trees, watching the cadets zip around the forest looking for Titans.

Levi’s eyes, however, were drawn to the fact that Erwin was out here.  He knew for a fact that Erwin had better things to be doing than watching rookies try to hunt down dummies, but for some reason he was always near the same spot Levi was, his gaze fixed complacently in the same area, flickering in disinterest past most of the cadets.  If any of the rookies knew he was here, the word would spread like wildfire, and they might shift their attention to trying their damndest to impress the Commander instead of doing the drill properly.

But there was a gleam in Erwin’s eyes.  He was here for a reason.  Levi just didn’t know what it was, which unsettled him, but didn’t distract him from watching the recruits.

Erwin’s gaze caught Levi’s, and the faintest, unsettling smile appeared on his lips, gone in the next second as his attention was drawn towards an oncoming recruit who was high in the trees, apparently trying the high-ground tactic to spot a Titan before the others.  A terrible approach, really, since it allowed more tree cover for the Titans by adding more branches and foliage below the individual.

Levi started to turn away in disinterest, hearing the sound of another fast-approaching recruit coming towards them.  While the recruit was still in his peripherals, they disengaged the cables, ready to fire them into another tree to make a sharp turn.

Except the cables didn’t deploy.

The recruit let out a shriek and plummeted towards the ground from a dangerous height, gear malfunctioning and not sending out the cables to catch them on their way down.  Levi whipped around, hands flying out to his holstered ODM controls--

--Erwin didn’t look surprised by what was happening--

Someone darted in low and fast.  It was one of the recruits, the one that had already been moving in their direction, and as such, was in the best position to react first.

Of all the people it could have been, it was L/N.

She wasn’t using any gas, her falling momentum casing her to come in low and fast to the ground, cables deploying at the last moment to even out her fall and propel her forward, her back running parallel with the ground as she shot towards the falling cadet.  When she was close enough, she angled herself back up to intercept the recruit, gas propelling her up into the air instead of her momentum.  There was an audible thud and grunt as they collided, L/N’s arm wrapped around the fallen recruit’s midriff as she twisted to fire another cable to bring herself up to safety.

The only problem was that there were two dummies in the direction she was flying, and the training didn’t stop because of a hiccup.

One of the dummies swung down and towards her, on a clear collision course if she didn’t see it and couldn’t react fast enough.  At least now it would hurt like a bitch but it wouldn’t be fatal.

L/N let loose a sudden burst of gas to speed up and rolled so she was facing the ground, back upwards and exposed to the falling dummy.  For a second, he thought she was going to take the brunt of the blow--which would mean death if this had been real.  She pulled herself upright at the last second, sailing right underneath where the dummy titan’s mouth would be, her body twisted out of reach of the dummy, and she kicked off the side of its neck to give herself another boost, cables firing upwards high into the trees and causing her to sore upwards, another brief burst of gas allowing her the momentum to keep her going upwards with the added weight still tucked against her side with one arm.

The second dummy swung out from behind the trees, fast enough to knock someone clean out of the air.  Instead of going under like she did the first time, she twisted again, keeping the recruit in her arms safe from impact.  She arched over him in an upside U, cables firing up and out to bring them safely onto a tree branch.  She set the other recruit down, a hand on their shoulder as she said something to them, checking their gear with them before waving for one of the other officers to come over and get the recruit.  Once the recruit who fell was guaranteed to be alright, she kicked off, doubling back to slice through the Titan dummy napes before disappearing back into the forest.

Levi looked back over at Erwin, able to immediately recognize that gleam in his eyes as Erwin looked out in the direction L/N had taken off towards.  It was the same look Levi saw in the Underground, back when they met.  Ulterior intentions or not, Erwin was going to do his damndest to make sure she was on their side in the end, and speaking from experience, Levi knew it was possible.

Releasing his grip on his ODM controls, Levi’s gaze flickered back over to the recruit that had fallen, that look he’d seen on Erwin’s face moments before it happened flashing through his mind.

I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition.

That had been planned, hadn’t it?  He wanted to test if she had her comrades backs in a moment of danger, and she had responded immediately and without hesitation.  Levi had to trust that there had been some kind of backup plan to make sure that recruit didn’t end up dead--Erwin wouldn’t have done something like that without having someone waiting in the wings in case L/N acted selfishly.

He was sure everyone was impressed after what she’d just pulled off even with someone under her arm, but part of him...wasn’t really surprised.  Then again, Levi was the only one who’d had a first hand taste of how strong she really was.  This was a reassurance that her other training had not slipped while she put so much effort into the horses, and was further confirmation at the asset she could be to them as a member of the Scouts.

Let’s hope she could keep that even head when it was Titan jaws snapping at her and not just wooden figures swinging her way.

He felt absolutely drained.

It was the night before the next expedition, and Levi found himself sitting alone in the mess hall, a cup of steaming tea resting on the table in front of him with his fingertips lingering lightly on the rim of the cup.  Ever since that first night he’d caught L/N sneaking out, he’d been staying up as much as possible to try and catch her sneaking out again.  He was already used to not sleeping much, but even he had his limits.  His eyelids were heavy, and his focus kept slipping, even as he tried to get down a cup of tea to help him sleep more soundly tonight so he would be at his best tomorrow.

He would finally get to see L/N in the field.  Erwin was still planning on keeping her in the formation where Levi would have her in his sights at all time so he could see how she did when it wasn’t training anymore.  Not to mention, he was looking forward to it.

His suspicions had started to die down in the back of his mind, giving way to glowing embers of a curiosity he figured would be satiated with time.  Perhaps that uneasiness in his gut had nothing to do with her trustworthiness, and he had simply been caught off guard by her abilities.  Perhaps the thought of a rookie already able to go toe to toe with him had unnerved him, and that was where the feeling originated.

The more he pried into her as a person, the less of a reason he found to be doubtful of her intentions.  The recruits who’d been in class with her had described her as cold and unsociable, someone up to trouble that was never discovered and far more skilled than she let on.  However, when he observed her and came within proximity to her, she was warm, and careful, and considerate, although he still did not miss the hesitation, the way she was ready to pull away at a moment’s notice and increase the distance once more, the way she seemed to always be holding something back…

But that didn’t mean she was a bad person.  If anything, he was worried about her because she seemed far more empathetic under the surface than she let on.  He’d seen the garden she tended to quietly, seen her artistic hobby, seen how she interacted with her horse Zephyr now that she was able to ride the mare.  Even if she didn’t have any close friends in the Scouts, she was close with that horse, spending most of her free time with Zephyr, brushing her, laying with her in the field while she drew or read, simply walking with her.

She seemed...gentle, at heart.  Before he knew it, he was softening towards her.  How could he see all of that, and not start to let go of his suspicions?  It’s why watching her had suddenly felt intrusive, why this final night he had stopped staring out the window watching for a hooded figure and come into the mess hall to seek tea to help him sleep instead of forcing himself to stay up all night again to keep an eye out for her slipping out into the night.

The silence was comforting, his limbs feeling heavy, head tilting downwards, fingers going limp around the empty cup as he slowly...nodded off…

He was so exhausted...

*Reader’s POV*

Your steps down the darkened halls of the Scout Headquarters were silent, your hood still drawn as you made your way deeper into the stone building.  While your face was still hidden in shadow, your hand did a careful rub around your mouth to be sure that you didn’t have any trace of your meal lingering on your face.

You hadn’t needed to sneak out for another bite, but considering you were going on an expedition tomorrow, you’d decided to play it safe and sneak out again to make sure you were fully satiated.  You needed to be at peak performance, and you needed to make sure your bloodlust was fully satiated in case you found yourself in the middle of a bloodbath.

The last thing you needed was to lose control in front of everyone and feed off of a fellow Scout.  All the pleading and rationalizing in the world wasn’t going to save you from a vengeful blade or banishment in that kind of situation.

Once you were sure there wasn’t any blood on your face, you lowered your hood, quietly making your way into the barracks and retrieving one of your bought chamomile tea bags before slipping away to the mess hall.  The only sounds in the castle was the faint talking of guards at the entrance, the huffs or snickers of the horses in the stables, and the soft breaths and heartbeats of the sleeping scouts that filled Headquarters.

The closer you got to the mess hall, however, the more you could make out a singular heartbeat and soft breathing, the familiar sound of someone fast asleep.

In the mess hall?

Once you were close enough, you managed to catch the faintest scent that immediately told you who was asleep in the mess hall.  That scent had been following you since your sparring match.  It had wafted on the wind from the distance as he watched you from beside the stables or across training grounds, had lingered on your personal effects after you came back from a morning drill, had briefly lingered amongst the perfume of herbs and flowery plants in your little garden, and had cut through your senses the last time you’d snuck out for a bite, informing you that you were being followed long before you heard his breaths and heartbeat.

You’d known Captain Levi was watching you closely, and as such, you’d learned to attune yourself to his scent so you would know when he was nearby.  He was always clean, with traces of tea and mint lingering despite the strong scent of soap, either from cleaning his surroundings or himself.  But there was also the scent of his blood, sometimes unique for people with potent bloodlines, whose blood would be exceptional if you dared to partake.

Of course, Captain Levi, Commander Erwin, any of the Scouts were a hard off limits, so that was never something you were going to give into, never a taste that you would know.  But that didn’t mean you would fail to pick up on the rich aroma his blood gave off.

God forbid his blood was ever spilled in front of you.  That would be a challenge to resist.

Able to tell that he was asleep, you entered the mess hall quietly but without reservations, determined to make your cup of tea even if there was someone else in the room.

He seemed to have fallen asleep at the table, head slumped over into his chest, one arm still lying limply next to a cup of tea that, due to the scent that still had traces in the air, had been meant to help him sleep.  His hair fell carefree into his face, lips parted slightly for his quiet breaths to slip between.

Good.  He’d been looking exhausted recently, and you knew it was because he was keeping such a close eye on you.  It was almost like you couldn’t go anywhere without Levi one step behind you.  The rumors said it was because he was thinking of having you join his squad, but you doubted that was really the reason.  Your suspicion was that he’d grown suspicious of you after your spar, and he was trying to figure out what you were hiding.  If he’d simply been looking to have you on his squad, he wouldn’t have gone poking around your personal effects or been following you whenever you were by yourself.

You didn’t hate him for it--he was just doing his job, and he had every right to be suspicious.  Hell, if his instincts had told him there was something wrong with you, that there was something dangerous about you, they weren’t wrong.  He was right to follow them and poke around.  It was just for your own sake that you hoped you could dodge him until his suspicions disappeared and he could accept you weren’t here out of malice.

You really were here to help.  Your intentions were genuine, even if you had some personal monsters you were trying to keep in the dark.  You just weren’t so sure you could convince them that you weren’t a threat if they were to ever find out what you were.  You didn't even want to think of what Captain Levi’s reaction would be if he ever found out, especially if he found out while armed and in the same room as you.

There were already those who knew about your species, and considered you to be a far more lethal threat to humanity than Titans, one that needed to be expunged indiscriminately.  The fear was always there that if someone discovered you, they would see things that way, that they wouldn’t hesitate to put down a clear threat to humanity.

Shaking the dark thoughts from your mind, you focused on the here and now instead of what ifs that might never come to pass.  Instead, you carefully removed your cloak from around your shoulders and approached Levi quietly and carefully, draping the dark cloth around his body to keep him covered up.

You’d just been outside, so of course you were aware that it wasn’t the warmest night.

You paused just short of lifting your hands, hearing a shift in his heartbeat and breathing that suggested he might wake up.  It figured he would be a light sleeper.  Maybe you should have just left him alone instead of risking waking him up.

Well, either way, it would be more awkward if he woke to you just standing there next to him--if he did wake up.  There was still the chance he would slip back into sleep.

Attempting to stay silent so you wouldn’t disturb him anymore than you already had, you slipped away into the kitchen, going about making your cup of tea as quietly as you could, movements exaggerated with how slow you were going in an attempt not to let the kettle and other dishes rattle.  While you made your tea, you could hear the slightest shift of fabric, hear a pause, his heart rate and breathing back to normal waking pace.

Well, shit.  It looked like you’d managed to wake him up with your act of kindness now gone wrong.  You should have left him alone instead of disturbing his sleep.  And now you were going to have to be social when you left the kitchen.

Well...maybe that was a good thing.  With all this watching from a distance, maybe it would help to put his mind at ease if he was to simply talk to you, just a little.

Though you could also very likely end up headed towards a conversation you weren’t ready to have, one you couldn’t answer even though they were so simple, like ‘where did you come from’ and anything related to family.

You let out a soft sigh as you poured your tea into your cup, resigning yourself to the incoming late night conversation with Captain Levi.

As you walked back into the eating area of the mess hall where Levi had fallen asleep, you could see him sitting up properly again, your cape folded up neatly and sitting on the tabletop with his hand resting thoughtfully in its center, a small frown on his lips.

He looked up when you entered the room, and something flashed in his eyes, gone as soon as it appeared.  It made you uneasy.

Was there blood on your cape?  No, you were certain there wasn’t any blood--you knew what you were doing, and you knew how to eat without spilling any blood or making a mess.  There wasn’t any blood on your cape.  So what was that look for?  Was it just from his suspicions?  Had he figured you had just come back from sneaking out again?

“What are you doing up?” Levi asked bluntly as you approached, teacup in hand

As much as you wanted to turn the question around on him, the one who had fallen asleep in the mess hall, you knew better.  You were trying to stay on his good side, not antagonize him, which was already difficult when the odds were already so stacked against you.

You took a seat, raising the cup slightly as both your hands curled around the hot cup to cradle it in your grasp.  “I was feeling restless, so I came down here to get something to calm my nerves,” you told him honestly, taking a slow sip of tea once you’d finished speaking.

“And you felt the need for a cloak on the way from the barracks to the kitchen?” Levi asked skeptically, eyebrow cocked challengingly.

You shrugged, outwardly unfazed by his question.  “I tried walking it off first.  Didn’t work out like I’d hoped.”

“Are you nervous?”

Your eyes flickered his way, meeting his steady gaze and briefly wondering if he was actually referring to tomorrow, or if that was meant to double as referring to him always watching her, asking if she had a reason to be nervous about it.

“I suppose I should be.  Afraid, even.  But whenever I start to get worried I tell myself whatever happens, happens.  I’ll do what I can, when I can.  If I come back, wonderful, if I don’t...I won’t be going out quietly,” you said, grip tightening slightly around the cup as you stared down at the water colored by the chamomile blend.  “Maybe subconsciously I am nervous, and that’s why I’m restless tonight.”

Levi was fixing you with a hard look at your rather passive answer, eyes probing, reading every muscle twitch looking for a lie or a deeper meaning.  “Aren’t you itching to kill Titans?  Or at least shitting yourself at the chance to go outside the walls?”

“Except I didn’t come to kill Titans, specifically.  Going outside the walls, seeing what’s out there, that’s a bonus.  I came to help.  Whether that means killing Titans, guarding carts, playing messenger or lookout, or mucking out stalls.  As long as I feel like I’m doing something to help.”

Levi leaned back in his seat.  He didn’t look particularly impressed with your attitude.  “Why did you join the Scouts?” he asked bluntly.  “Why not the MPs or the Garrison?”

Images flashed through your mind.  Drunken garrison members stationed in Wall Rose who only sat around gambling, drinking, and ignoring their duties.  Your eyes lifted to the raven-haired man in front of you, and you had the faintest memory pass through your mind of a black haired youth pressed into the ground by Military Police, about to beat the kid to a pulp to teach the Underground gutter rat not to steal, even though it was the only way the kid was going to get something to eat.  Corruption, complacency, and current uselessness in the fight against the Titans, that’s all you thought when you heard Military Police or Garrison Regiment.  You knew it was a harsh viewpoint, and a blanket one that didn’t truly apply to everyone in either branch, but that impression had been made so strongly on you that you couldn’t resolve it, not at this point.

Also, this was a good chance to plant the seed that she really did want to help, that she really was an ally and not an enemy.  Just in case she was found out.

“I wanted to go somewhere I could actually do something, where I could put my skills to good use and do something worthwhile.  I know that’s not the general public feeling about what the Scouts do, but I knew if I went to the Garrison or the MPs, I’d be wasted there.  Complacency isn’t for me.  I knew the Scouts was the best place for me to go if I wanted to do something that could actually help.”

You quieted again, taking another sip from the cup.  Once more, it was true.  If you wanted to use your vampiric abilities to make a difference, the Scouts was the best place for you.  You were tired of existing in shadows, of letting days slip by without making any kind of impact on the world around you.  No more complacency.  You wanted to take action and do something with your abilities other than hunt and eat people.  What better way than to go out and fight the Titans?  They were still a threat to you, you couldn’t regenerate like a Titan, and decapitation from teeth would kill you just as surely as a stake through the heart.  But you had a better chance against the Titans than the average human, and you wanted to use your better chances to give humanity a better opportunity to fight back.  That would make your existence feel...worthwhile.  Instead of parasitic.

Down at the other end of the table, Levi sighed, pushing himself up onto his feet, likely to head back to his room before he fell asleep in the mess hall again.

*Levi’s POV*

Levi wasn’t too enthused by most of her reasoning for joining the Scouts.  He had seen far too many pointless deaths to optimistically say that she wouldn’t die pointlessly in the Scouts.  Hell, she had a higher chance of dying needlessly in the Scouts than anywhere else, especially if she had the wrong attitude going out there.  A hero complex could get her killed just as easily as complacency.  She should be focused on survival, and how casually she spoke about what could happen tomorrow made him uncomfortable.  He’d be more at ease if she was displaying a determination to come back, some kind of fire, a spark.  Instead, it felt like she thought there was something she needed to prove, and he worried it was the wrong priority.

Hopefully, her attitude would change once she saw the hell of the Titans up close.  If not, he wasn’t going to have much hope for her going forward.

Getting to his feet, Levi grabbed his teacup to clean up in his chambers, leaving the cloak folded on the table for her to retrieve when she was finished down here.

“Make sure you come back to tend to those plants.  They’ll die if there’s not someone around to take care of them,” he said in a monotone voice before turning to leave.  He made it almost to the door before she spoke up again.

“Captain Levi?”

He paused, but he didn’t turn or say anything, waiting to hear what she wanted to say.

“Just because I’m not open with everyone, doesn’t mean I’m a threat.  There’s just some parts of myself I would like to keep to myself,” she said softly.  His head twitched to the side at the unexpected comment, catching the sight of her forlorn expression as she gazed down at the cup just in front of her lips.

He didn’t say anything, instead continuing down the hall and disappearing from her immediate sight.  Once he was within the safety of his chambers, a hard glint flashed in his eyes.

The scent of blood and shit unique to one place within the walls lingered on her cloak.

Next Chapter---->

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

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

[tallbisexualwantstobeloved]

Daredevil, Crackfic challenge.

@call-me-sammy @do-androids-dream-ao3acc @whumpdoyoumean

Matthew Murdock was walking silently, focusing hard on his -available- senses to find what he was looking for.

Unfortunately, the solo vigilante couldn't seem to find it and, thus, turned to the next aisle.

As it turns out, enhanced hearing and physical abilities are not exactly suited for looking through an Aldi for clothes.

Matt passed quickly through the current aisle he was in -as all he could smell was soup- and turned to the next with the hope of finally finding the shirts he was looking for.

Why do they always change the layout of this place? He thought, annoyed.

At long last, Matt picked up the scent of new clothes, freshly out of whatever garage they were kept in before being put on the shelves.

Slowly and meticulously, he felt the cloths to check the material.

He would have to ask an employee about the colour of the shirts he was picking since he didn't want a repeat of that time; Foggy still cried with laughter when remembering that incident.

Matt held out his white cane in one hand and a shirt in the other and set to find any employee to help him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to look far as one rushed to him, immediately asking if he wanted help.

"Yes, could you tell me what colour these shirts are?" He asked, presenting the clothe to the worker.

"White." The employee said with a little too much excitement.

First day, Matt thought and asked for the size of it.

The shirt in his hand was in his size, luckily, and he went back with the same employee to get more of them.

Lord knows how easily they get dirty, so it made sense for the lawyer to buy them in bulk.

"Would that be all, sir?" The employee asked, basically balancing on the balls of their feet, in his hands were five shirts that they insisted on carrying.

Matt thought for only a second before he decided to ask about what kind of clothe detergent would be appropriate for hard stains.

The employee lead him through the building and into an aisle that had a suspicious lack of the usual scent of chemical cleaning products.

"These do wonders for all kind of stains and odors!" The worker said as Matt stood there, very much unable to see whatever 'these' were.

"Oh, shit!" Matt heard being whispered and next thing he knew there were small, odd textured balls in his fist and a slight scent of vinegar wafted in front of him.

"Throw these in with the clothes and they'll be just like new!" Matt could practically hear the worker's excited smile, just like a salesman he had seen on television one late night when his father hadn't yet returned from the ring.

Matt put on his best smile and thanked the employee before he was lead -more unwilling than not- to the checkout after saying that he didn't need anything else when he was asked.

It didn't take long for the cashier to scan his items and soon, the lawyer was on his way to his apartment to drop his things off before heading to work.

It was still early enough that he didn’t have to run but Matt didn't want to dawdle for long.

After all, he had customers waiting for him.

Unfortunately, it was while thinking of one customer that he missteped, tripping over the little crack on the pavement and falling onto the ground.

As both his hands were currently occupied, Matt didn't have a way to break his fall, unless he wasn't against using the perfectly placed trash bin beside him.

Well, he was, and thus opted to fall to the ground.

And, this being New York, the ground was the worst choice that won you four different kinds of tetanus and more importantly, dirt. So much dirt.

So, it wasn't surprising when Matt's perfectly clean-and-ready-for-lawyering shirt went from white to a nice brown-gray almost immediately.

Instantly, the people on the sidewalk on his side came to a stop, looking at the downed blind man for a moment and promptly walking away.

This is fine, Matt thought and picked himself -and his bags- up by seeing through his fire-filled world.

Once up, Matt decided to grab a fresh shirt while he left his bags at his apartment; walking a little faster since he didn't want to be late for work.

It wasn't long before he had the fresh, clean smelling, shirt on and running out of the door as quickly as a 'blind' man could without bumping into every corner.

A relatively short walk took Matt right outside the building's main door and through their office's one.

He greeted his coworkers, Foggy and Karen, as per usual and sat down on his own desk to get started on reading some new cases they debated taking.

It wasn't until an hour later that Matt got up to get [something]. The [whatever] was above his head and Matt reached his hand up to grab it, already hearing Karen getting up to help him if needed.

Foggy looked up from his own papers for a second, bit did a double take fast at the red colour on Matt's white shirt as his suit jacket lifted with the movement of his arm.

He got up and slowly walked over, Karen still looming behind the blind lawyer while said lawyer held [REDACTED] in his hand.

"Matty, can I speak to you for a second?"

Matt tilted his head slightly and nodded, allowing Foggy to lead him over to his office before closing the door.

Foggy let Matt's forearm go as soon as they were inside the small room and sighed;

"It's way too early for this, Matt."

Matt frowned in confusion at the, what felt like, scolding that was brewing inside Foggy's mind.

"It's 12 P.M., Fog, we both decided on the time to come into work." He said, genuinely confused.

"What? No, I don't mean that it's too early for work, I'm saying it's too early for all your-" Foggy waved his hand around like he was performing a spell, -Matt would have laughed, had he... you know-, "-vigilantism."

"I wasn't vigi- I wasn't fighting bad guys before work, Foggy!"

Foggy's silence said so much to Matt as he could feel the dubious side eye he was getting.

"I wasn't fighting bad guys before work today, Foggy."

He heard Foggy huff at that but he seemed to relent.

"Why are you bleeding, then?" Foggy whispered angrily.

"I'm not bleeding." Matt said, seriously confused now.

"Yes, you are." Foggy insisted.

"No." One word to kill a man.

"Matt! You have blood here!" He said and poked his finger right where the 'wound' was, absolutely taking into consideration that that could have hurt. Absolutely.

Matt felt the poke but it didn't hurt so he put his own hand above the spot Foggy had pointed at.

He felt an odd texture over the spot, unlike the texture of the rest of the shirt and realisation hit him.

"This... is an old shirt."  He said quietly, "Shit, I grabbed the wrong shirt."

"Let's just go to your apartment to grab another one." Foggy suggested, "Unless you can produce one from thin air." Matt couldn't.

Both man grabbed their suitcases before making a beeline for the exit when Karen stopped them.

"Where are you going, guys? The office is swarming with customers right now." She said as she pointed it to their very, very empty office space.

"We won't be long, Ms Paige!" Foggy announced, practically dragging Matt behind him.

-

The two avocados found themselves in Matt's apartment soon and instantly Foggy raided the closet for a clean shirt for his friend to wear while Matt took off the dirty one and threw it in the washing machine.

Foggy stopped looking through the clothes -or lack thereof- when he heard strange scrunching sounds.

The man really got a kick when he saw Matt trying to open a plastic bag with some kind of nuts in it.

"Matt..." He called out, "What have I told you about making sure you eat in the morning?"

"This isn't breakfast, Fog." Matt said while still struggling, "This is for the washing machine."

"Your washing machine is hungry?" Foggy whispered, perplexed.

"No." Double homicide.

Foggy walked closer to Matt and saw more clearly the little baggie.

"Oh, walnuts! I thought they were out of season." Foggy said in a moment of enlightenment.

"They are not walnuts, they're soapnuts!"

"They're what now?"

"Soapnuts. They're supposed to be great at cleaning even the hardest stain."

"Uh, even blood?" He sounded doubtful, as he should.

"Well, the worker at the store said they work wonders."

"Okay, but. Blood, Matt. That does not come off easily as you know."

"We'll just give it a try, Foggy." Matt said and threw some of the nuts in the washing machine before starting a half-hour cycle.

Foggy mumbled a variation of 'alright' and went back to the closet.

He grabbed a shirt that seemed new and threw it at Matt who was busy "staring" at the wall right next to the washing machine.

Matt caught the shirt moments before it fell to the floor after hitting his face and put it on with a 'thanks, Fog.

The half-hour washing cycle turned out to take up three quarters of an hour, so that was a fucking lie, and Matt got the wet shirt out of it, holding it up;

"Perfect!" He exclaimed and heard Foggy shuffling next to him.

"Matthew?" His friend said slowly, carefully.

"Mhm?" Matt replied, eloquent as ever.

"The shirt is white, right?"

"Yes. Isn't it?"

"Uh... Pastel pink has some white in it, I guess."

"Well, yes. Pastel pink has to have whit- Wait a minute!" Matt stopped abruptly, "This shirt isn't white anymore, is it?"

"Nope!" Foggy popped the 'P' like he was a 14-year-old girl getting ready to be lawfully abducted by a boy band.

"Damn." Matt sighed.

"Careful with those damns, Matthew."

"Sorry, Father- FOGGY!" Matt shouted, scandalised.

Foggy snorted as he and Matt put the, now, pink shirt away and grabbed their things to head back to the office, wondering how Karen is doing.

-

Karen sat on her desk, typing away at her computer all the people she saw today with new cases.

It was a busy day with more customers that usual.

Two.

~end

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 10 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.5 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (09)

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Candle Lights

Keanu is driving back home after your third antenatal class. You enjoy them, but most of the things they say you already know. But it's not their fault you and Keanu do a lot of reading and research, and your doctors keep you updated. But you want to keep going.

“I'm thinking about a cesarian.” You tell Keanu, both hands cupping your bump.

“What?” He glances at you, and his face makes you giggle. “You have to be kidding me.”

“Why?” You ask, stretching your arm to touch the back of his neck.

“Because labor is something natural. Your body knows what to do.”

“Yeah, it just hurts like a bitch.” You snap back, playing with his hair.

“I know.” He sighs. “It's your call. You're the one delivering the baby.”

“I'm not sure yet. But we still have time.” You're currently in the middle of week 18. You feel more comfortable, and you have more energy now. The bump already shows depending on what you wear, but there's still a long way to go. “And we need to talk names, by the way.”

“I thought we decided on Clarissa or Henry.”

“Yeah, but we gotta be one hundred percent sure. Are you one hundred percent sure?”

“Now that you're talking about it, no.” Keanu giggles, a hand coming to lay on your thigh. “What were the other options?”

“Sophie, Nicole, Ethan, and Liam.” You recite them, looking at the landscape outside your window.

“They're all great. But... Liam. I like Liam. Or Sophie.” He takes a turn left, entering the condo.

“I like them too.” It's always like this. Whenever you bring this up, you just can't decide. “Maybe it'll get easier once we know the sex. Because we're clueless so far.”

“Do you want one of those parties where the sex is revealed?”

“No. It's not like I'd know the guests so...” Pushing this thought back before it starts bothering you, you sigh. “Let's just keep it between us. The rest of the world will find out eventually, but let it happen when it happens.”

“Alright.” As he slows down and stops to wait for the garage door to open, you see Mrs. Jackson walking to her front door. She spots you and waves. You immediately remember the amazing brownies she makes, and you suddenly need it.

“I'll go say hi.” You tell Keanu before leaning for a kiss and stepping out of the car.

Mrs. Jackson is a kind old lady who lives with her husband in the house on the left. When she sees you coming her way she stops, smiling. “Hello, (Y/N). Good morning.” Her long white hair is being blown by the wind, and she keeps it off her face with a hand.

“Good morning, Mrs. Jackson. How are you today?” Smiling, you hug her.

“You can call me Anne, child, it's alright.” She immediately touches your belly. “And how is this tiny little human? Are you eating well, honey? Exercising?” She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head at your house. “Is your husband taking good care of you?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.” Giggling, and blushing a little, you nod. “I have weekly appointments with my nutritionist, Keanu and I take a walk every morning around the neighborhood and he's being absolutely amazing.” You say with a sigh, your heart beating a little faster just at the mention of him.

“Are you falling for him?” With both hands on her hip, Mrs. Jackson inquires, a funny expression on her face. She knows about the accident since she has become a friend of yours.

“I am.” You mutter, biting your lip.

“That's true, genuine love, sweetie. Even after forgetting him, you're falling for him all over again.” She has a teasing look on her face that makes you blush even more.

“Yeah, I guess you can say that. In the beginning, I really thought we'd end up divorced.”

“Honey, you don't know the way Keanu looks at you.” She shakes her head no, taking your arms and pulling you to a seat on the steps that lead to her porch. “When you came for dinner earlier this week, I could see it clearly. He looks at you like you're his whole world.” Running a hand through your hair, you look down. “That man loves you with all his heart, I have no doubt.” She puts an arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah...” You mutter, a low chuckle leaving your lips. “Oh, sorry for yesterday's noise. We're changing a few things in the house for the baby and also working on the decoration. Since we just moved and everything is happening at the same time...”

Anne furrows her eyebrows a little, tilting her head to the side. “Honey, Keanu has been living here for a little more than a year before you came. It was a surprise to me as it was for everyone to find he was married.”

Mimicking her expression, you start thinking, counting. Keanu said you came here only a few weeks before the accident. “Well... We were keeping it a secret. He's a public figure so the goal was to keep the marriage private for as long as we could. But the accident happened.” The words come out slow, as you try to understand what she means by that. A year... It can't be.

“I don't blame you for doing that.” Squeezing your shoulders a little, she smiles. “People can be very intrusive with celebrities.”

“Keanu's fans are great. We bumped into some on our way to the Walmart a while ago. And Ke was kind, as always.”

“That man is a rarity.”

“He is.” Smiling, you look at her, remembering about your current craving. “Oh, do you think you can make some of those chocolate brownies?” You ask, pouting a little. “I hate to give you trouble but I really want them.”

“Don't worry, child.” Anne giggles, taking your hand in hers. “I'm retired for way too many years and I enjoy having something to do.”

“Thank you!” Pulling her into a hug, you place a kiss on her cheek. “I gotta go now.” Pushing yourself up, you jump to the sidewalk. “Important talking about this little one's name.”

“Won't you tell me the options?”

“Nope!” Winking at her, you start walking backward. “It's going to be a surprise.” With another wave, you turn around and head home.

Keanu is in the kitchen, starting with the preparations for dinner. Homemade pizza night, and he's just starting to make the dough. Moving to seat on the kitchen island, you're just about to ask how you can help when what Anne said comes back. That was certainly weird, but you don't think Keanu would lie to you like that. “Ke...” You make a small pause when he looks at you over his shoulder. “Mrs. Jackson said you were living here for like a year. But you told me we came to New York a few weeks before the accident.”

He stops, both his hands dirty with flour. There's something in his face you can't read, as Keanu avoids looking at you. “We bought the house about a year ago. I used to come and spend a day or two because of work, but we only actually moved when you found a good job here.” He speaks slow, only lifting his eyes when he's done speaking. You work with social services, and he said that your job is secure for when you're able to go back.

“Got it.” You mutter, furrowing your eyebrows a little. “Are you alright?” Getting up, you walk over him. Once you're close, he has no choice but stares into your eyes. Wrapping your arms around his midsection, you tiptoe to kiss him.

“I'm great.” When you step away, Keanu touches your nose in a quick motion, getting it dirt with flour.

“I can't believe you did that.” You giggle, stretching your arm to shove your fingers inside the bowl before showing them to your husband. “If you don't apologize, sir, I'll paint all this pretty face of yours.”

“Is it a threat?” Keanu inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“It's a promise.”

“Alright then.” He chuckles before cupping your face with both hands, getting your cheeks and jaw covered in flour.

“You're playing with fire!” You shout, running your fingers through your face before reaching for the bowl and taking a handful of flour that you succeed to half throw it at him, with half of it falling on the sink. He holds your dirty hand, some parts of his hair all white. “You're messing with the wrong pregnant lady, babe.”

“I surrender.” He says in between giggles, hands raised. “I'm completely at your mercy.”

Squinting your eyes at him, you only grunt before washing your hands. “Let me help you.” You say as you grab the dishcloth, damping it before starting to clean Keanu's face.

“No. Let me do this for you. Just sit there looking beautiful.” Once you're done with his face, you clean yourself the best you can.

“Only if I get to see you around the kitchen looking handsome.” Sassing back, you leave the dishcloth on the sink and head back to your place at the kitchen island. You love helping him, but you decided to let him do his thing this time.

By nightfall, the pizzas are in the oven. All three of them, despite knowing you won't eat that much. But one is for Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, and the other two will probably cover up all meals for a while. That if Keanu doesn't bug you with eating super healthy on every single meal. The brownies arrive too, and you thank Anne a lot as you bite one of them.

The only thing to ruin the night, well, that got close to, was that the sudden violent wind caused a blackout. You were eating at the kitchen table when it happened, and Keanu left to check if there was anything he could do. There isn't, but he did find some candles and the pizza night became a lot more romantic instantly.

Right now, already satisfied after two slices only, you admire his face in the different lighting, his hand holding yours over the table.

“We should go out. Like a date.” He suggests, and it makes your smile grow wider. “If that's alright with you.”

“Of course it is. We're married.” Shrugging your shoulders, you notice the subtle change on his face. You never get it, it's a mystery. “Ke, what's wrong?” It's not the first time it happens, but even though you're getting to know him, learning to read his expressions, this one is still difficult.

“Nothing, beautiful. It's nothing.” He assures you in a low voice. “Do you wanna head upstairs? A shower lit by candles must be quite an adventure.”

He always does that. He says it's nothing and changes the subject... But you guess it's alright. Maybe Keanu remembers the accident. The wife he lost that day. Or maybe something you shared before that's completely gone for you. “Great.”

“You can go first. I'll clean this up.”

“Leave the dishes to me. I can do them tomorrow.” You say as you walk past him, a hand on his shoulder. “You already made dinner for us.”

“Alright.” He agrees and you smile before going upstairs.

Showering with nothing but candles to light up the bathroom is weird, and you almost slipped. And that you'll never tell Keanu or else who knows what he'll do. But it was different. Once you're done, you leave the bathroom loosening the bun you had your hair in, letting it down. “Your turn with the medieval style shower.”

“I didn't know they had bathrooms like this back then.” Keanu snaps at you, smirking.

“You couldn't just go with it, could you?” Rolling your eyes, you walk over the slide glass door that leads to the balcony, just to watch as the wind still rushes through.

“Absolutely not.” It's the last thing you hear before the door closes.

With your eyes on the street down there, you hope this wind won't bring anyone trouble by tomorrow. At least the news said the weather will get better in a couple of days.

After some minutes watching the threes bending under the weight of the wind, you walk back to the bed, sitting on the edge. This place is feeling more like home as the days go by, and you're falling back into the life you once had. And it's good. Despite all the medicine you still take, the endless appointments, and a very, very overprotective husband, everything is good. More than that, actually. It does bring you relief to know you were this happy before. That you weren't alone, that you somehow managed to find someone so amazing. You know it was probably difficult in the beginning, with him being a public figure, and so many years older, but look where you are now. It was worth it. It ended up in the best way possible. And you couldn't ask for anything else.

“Lost in thoughts?” His voice startles you, as he comes from the bathroom.

“A little.” Getting on your knees on the bed, you cross it until you're face to face with him. Well, he's still taller, but you don't mind. You like it a lot, actually. Smiling you wrap your arms around his neck. “But they were good thoughts.”

“That's good to know.” He whispers, and you can't resist the proximity, so you just kiss him.

It was supposed to be just a quick thing, soft and sweet, but it soon becomes too needy. You shouldn't be this needy, and you don't know where it comes from. But it doesn't take much until you're awkwardly wrapping your legs around his waist, but the sudden change of balance makes you fall back on the bed, giggling through the kiss. But you don't mind. You don't want this to stop.

But you sigh when Keanu pulls away, opening your eyes to look at him, his eyes barely lit by the two candles, one on each nightstand. “What?” You ask, your voice a little weak, you're not sure why.

“If we keep this going...” His voice fades, and you feel when he removes some of his weight from you. He wasn't crushing you, but you were feeling all of his body. “...I don't think we'll be interrupted this time.”

You get what he means. There won't be calls this time, nothing too put a stop to whatever is going to happen. But you don't care. He's your husband, and you're falling for him. You want this. “I don't want it to be interrupted, Ke.” You tell him, thanking the darkness because you're sure you never blushed this much.

“Are you sure you want this?” A thunder almost clouds his voice, but you manage to hear it.

It's kind that he still wants to know how you feel. Keanu doesn't push you, he never has. It suddenly snaps that you love him, that this is right. “I'm sure.” You whisper back, eyes closing again when Keanu leans in for another kiss.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[myfeetkeepdancing]

Lost and Found  |  Arvin Russel x Male!Reader

Request:  I kind of thought about Arvin arrived in new city, without cash (maybe only small amount) and wandering aimlessly. Then he stop at a diner realising he doesn't have a place to stay at night and buy food, decide to leave but stopped by mreader(waiter?owner?) and said that he can eat for free (mreader can't help after watching him so pitiful). Later on mreader said that he know Arvin not from here, and kind of tell him place to stay and also a job if he want to, i mean who can just ignore Arvin.

Warnings: Cursing, smoking.

Words: 4915

---

A mere glimpse. Just enough. A man, somewhere around your age. You'd seen him walk past the large window as you cleaned the last plates, halt for a moment before turning inwards. Stepping into your diner. The place wasn't big. But it had style, that look about it. Vibrant colors, yet cozy and warm. Located on the corner of a busy street, always something happening. Always movement. Three booths on either side, each seat sporting a view through the large windows on that bustling street. Opposite the booths stood the bar, it wrapped around the corner and partially hid the kitchen—enough stools to fit a soccer team. A small space was occupied by a door in the left corner; behind lay a staircase leading up. On the far right stood the large jukebox, too large for the place. But what is a diner without it? In all, a small place, but locally renowned for the food. Except for tonight. Tonight was quiet—a boring, dull, dark night.

"How may I help you?" You asked, moving towards him, drying your hands on the towel slung over your shoulder. "Kitchen is still open." At first sight, he struck you as a roadworker. A knapsack slung over his shoulder and worn-torn jeans and jacket. His once white shirt underneath grime with dirt and sweat. With his gray cap on, you couldn't really tell his expression as he was busy with the contents of his wallet. Spreading a small collection of coins across the bar. He cleared his voice before speaking. "Hi...ehm..." His voice was hoarse and dry. "W-What can you get me for this?" Speaking with an accent that wasn't from around. Working in the dinner, you heard and spotted many different ones. Making it a sport to figure out where they came from. But his posture and expression didn't lend towards a nice conversation. He looked reserved and held back.

Wiping your hands clean on your apron, you step closer and lean in, accessing what lay in front of you. It was obvious; he had literally turned his wallet upside down on the counter. Scraping every last coin out of there. The amount in front of you was far off from a meal you served here. But there was something about him as you looked up. You get a glimpse of his eyes underneath the cap. His eyes sat deep in his face. The expression was grave. Staring soullessly into a void. Veering back into life as he felt your eyes connect with his. "Sorry, sir…" He apologized after a lengthy sigh. "Long day." He mumbled, straightening himself upwards. He took off his cap and raked his fingers through his hair before putting it back on. "I know it ain't much, but…"

"Jerry!" You call out over your shoulder, awaiting the familiar deep voice to respond back to you. "One burger with extra fries." And give him a smile. "Seat yourself." Nodding towards the booths behind him. "I'll be right with ya." And start collecting the coins into your hand. You knew it wouldn't cover the cost, far from it. But you'd rather have a customer then wait for this long evening to end. You'll make ends meet. A good deed wasn't misplaced once in a while. And as your father always said, it's better to give than receive. From the corner of your eye, you see the man seat himself. The far most booth in the corner, close to the window and holding his knapsack close. A sense of pity grew for the man as you saw him there. Head hanging low, gaze stuck to the table. Occasionally peering outside. His expression was impossible to read as his cap sat low and firm on his head. Hiding his eyes.

Arvin looked across the booth's plain white table, staring almost, with incomprehension on his face. He felt empty and alone. Traveling all this way without purpose. Only anger and rage. Angry at the world. At everything. His growling stomach was the only thing that kept him sane. At least there was one thing he accomplished. He wanted to be far away from that place he once called home. His thoughts drifted between Lenora and his grandparents. He couldn't let his guard down for a moment and kicked himself back into it. His eyes were almost trained to spot a police car from a mile away. It set him on edge since that day—even the sound of the sirens. A quick glance through the local newspaper revealed no article about the drama in his hometown. It was a momentary relief. But the question was, for how long?

"Here you go, sir." You announced as you approached, putting down a glass of coke in front of him. He looked up at you, staggered, to say the least. "So... where are ya from? Going by your accent, you're not from around here." You check the diner a second time around, ensuring no customer was going unattended before returning to the stranger. You stuff your hand in the pockets of your apron. Patiently awaiting his response.

"I'm not." He said somberly. Taking big swigs from the glass. "I'm from a place called Coal Creek. Somewhere close there."

"Hmmm, that's around Marlinton." You asked. "Somewhere in-between Summersville and Staunton?" You tried to recall the map in your mind as you thought long and hard. "I'm not sure..."

"You're about right…" He nodded, crossing his arms on the table. "You been there?"

"No. No, not me. But I can recall someone going there." You heard the place before, but it probably was a trucker or someone else who mentioned it. "But I'm not sure who it was." You shake your head and continue on. "Anyway, how was the drive?"

"I got a lift."

"Okay, and what brings you to the rural city? Work, family?" You asked. "Love?" Followed by a light chuckle, trying to lift the mood a little. In the background, the jukebox had stopped playing. Only the sound of the grill in the kitchen and the neon letters' sizzle outside took over its role. Even the old coffee machine was quiet now.

"I don't know...." He shrugged off your question. 

The rough and uneasy response brought the ongoing conversation to an abrupt end. You didn't know how to respond to such an absent, short answer. Luckily you were saved by the bell. Jerry shoved the plate through the window towards the front. "Thank you, Jerry. Lookin' good as always." Giving him a thumbs up to show your gratitude as you take the warm plate. "Might as well lock everything up back there, Jerry. I think that's it for tonight." Following his confirmation, you bring the plate up to the table. Before you put the plate down, you take out a moist towel and wipe the table clean. "Look at that." You mumbled while cleaning the last bits of. "Much better." You pass him a knife and fork and follow up by placing the plate in front of him. "Enjoy your meal." 

"Thank you, sir." He said, and began to eat immediately. With an eye on closing time, you begin to clean the bar and surrounding booths. Jerry had cleaned the kitchen and said his goodbyes before heading home. All the tables and benches needed a thorough cleaning, and if you managed now, you'd have spare time for other things tomorrow morning. 

"You planning on going back to Coal Creek?" You asked while you cleaned the second last booth in front of him. From your position, you could only see the top part of his cap. He sure must have heard the question, as there was total silence across the diner. But the response took some time. 

"No." He said resolutely, with a whiff of distraught emotion in his voice. "Never." You gaze up, finding yourself lost in the dark eyes peering from underneath his cap. The pupils functioned like little keyholes, allowing a small glimpse at the ferocity and anger boiling within him. A fire raging within him that you wouldn't want to know how to quench. "I ain't going back to place."

"Right... Well, that's clear." Something had happened in that town where this stranger came from. And he wasn't intent on sharing that with you. Not in this state. "There's plenty of work in the city." And continue on to the next booth while you try to keep him talking. In the past, you sure had more talkative guests at the end of the evening. "Just make sure you walk in the right people."

"What does that mean?"

"Well…You see-" With a sigh, you raise yourself up again from cleaning the booth. You've always tried to warn the newcomers around—especially the ones who were low on cash. "Certain neighborhoods here… have a wrong crowd. Tend to lure people in, you know, pray on the poor and lonely... with false promises and such. Ending up… bad."

"I don't fall for that." He scoffed and continued to eat his burger. "Don't you worry." 

"Oh, I don't." You said, slightly sarcastic. "But it's easier said than done." And turn back behind the bar. Wiping the top of the bar down. Restock the last things. Making sure all the lights in the back were off. "Sometimes it makes you wonder if there's more bad than good on this planet.

"I know there is…" He muttered while he watched the world go by his window. "If there really was a God out there…" He spat, shaking his head. The man seemed distracted as if something was on his mind. The quiet was eerie, just to the two of you. He captured you in a way you couldn't describe, nor felt before. The headlight of passing cars illuminated his face. And you couldn't help but stare sometimes. Yet, the man didn't scare you. He remained unmoved in his spot while you worked your way around the place. Even when you turned the jukebox on again, trying to break the uneasy silence. You said your goodbyes to Jerry the cook again as he returned for his keys, and watched the streets go quietly darker and darker into the night.

"I understand you're closing." He said out of the blue, leaving his seat. Taking his jacket and knapsack with him. Halting in front of the bar where you were working. At least pretending to be working.

"A bit earlier than usual, yes." Wiping the bar down again, as he stood there. Watching you. "I got some pie leftover if you want." You offered, pointing at the stool. "Take a seat."

"No, I'm good." He replied with a grumble.

"Okay… Well, suit yourself." Drinking the last bit out your glass and continue your work on the cash register. "Have a good night, sir. And, please make sure the door is shut properly behind you."

But the man stood there, watching you work. And as you glanced back, he turned his eyes to the street. As if he searched deeply for a reason to stay inside. Not wanting to go outside. You know it didn't rain. You could see that. Yet, he remained in the same spot. Unmoved.

"I can wait." He offered, which took you by surprise. He didn't unsettle you in any way. But it was this kind of gesture you didn't expect. "Don't want you to be robbed by that… wrong crowd lurking the street." He looked over his shoulder, scanning the dimly lit streets while leaning against a table. "If... that's... alright with you?"

"Yeah…" You say and turn to confirm, catching each other's gaze. It's normal in any conversation. But this felt different. You felt drawn in by those brown eyes. Almost hypnotized. The moment of eye contact was longer than probably necessary. A smile slowly forming on your lips. "Of course." You nod and slowly return to your work. To your shock, you see your hands trembling ever so slightly as they hover over the numbers on your cash register. Not from the cold. That for sure. Because your hands feel clammy.

  -

"Was that all your money?" You asked while you shut the door behind you. With the keys in your other hand, you lock the place up. Turning on your heel, standing there a few feet apart from each other. The streets weren't exactly busy at this hour. But there was always some movement. But the man stayed silent nonetheless. Perhaps hoping you would drop it. "By not answering, you're admitting it is."

"Yes..." He grumbled, annoyed. "Yes, it was." Avoiding your gaze as he stepped aside for a passerby.

"There are some cheap rooms, two blocks down that way." You pointed down the road. "Big motel. Can't miss it." Pulling out a couple dollars from your wallet.

"That's far more than I paid for the food." He said, too stubborn to take the money.

"That's not the point." You noted. "I don't want you to sleep in a cardboard box under a bridge. There's no need to." Holding the money up to him. "It's cheap, but at least you got a roof over your head, a warm bed, and a way to freshen up."

"You don't have to do this."

"I know." You nod. "Now take it." Reaching the money out to him again. "Or are you intend to find out who's the most stubborn of the two of us."

"I can just walk away." He chuckled. "You know that, right?"

"Promise me one thing." Taking another step closer to him.

"What is that?" He says, watching you with a challenging glint in his eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, be here at seven." Jabbing a finger over your shoulder. "Backdoor. I'll fix you breakfast." Forcing the money in his hand. "Got it?" 

The man nodded as he stashed the bills away in his pocket. "And to who do I owe this promise?" 

"(Y/N)." 

If there was something to lie about, it could be his name. That's what coursed through Arvin's brain right now. After all this, should he be honest? Hadn't he already been up until now? A small inner conflict silenced him for a moment. But inside of him, the gears were turning. The name sat right with the person standing in front of him. And it made him feel… things…. 

For the first time, you caught a glimpse of what you thought to be a smile on the stranger's face. Short and sweet. It was a kind one. A genuine one. A smile that pleasantly cracked his stern features. So unexpected, yet so satisfying to witness. It suited him well.

But only seconds. As he bowed his head down, strolling his eyes across the pavement while fishing for a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. The cap hiding the expression. As if he was embarrassed to show his smile.

"I'm Arvin." He looked up, flashing his smile with confidence, stepping closer towards you. "I haven't thanked you (Y/N)." Offering you one of his last cigarettes. "The meal. And… this." Patting the bills in his pocket. "That's real kind of you." The smile said more than enough. Despite the stubbles across his face, the unshaven look, the long locks of brown hair protruding from underneath his cap, he had a certain charm. And it felt infectious. That ferocity from earlier had subsided. Making way for a heartwarming smile. "Thank you (Y/N)."

"No problem, Arvin." Pulling the collars up against the wind, but kindly refusing the cigarette. "I only drink." And return him a smile. "See you tomorrow morning."  

He nodded as you saw the fire catch his cigarette. The orange glow shining across his features. There was this tensioned moment of eye contact before you exchanged a "Goodnight". Arvin watched you go as he ran his hand over his curled dark hair, smoothing it into place before putting the cap back on. A shuddered breath left his parted lips. He didn't understand what his body was experiencing. This feeling. He wanted to say something as he saw you walking away. But he couldn't. Nailed to the spot. Yet his legs were like jelly. So each went their own way. But not without their troubled minds.

  - NEXT MORNING - 

 Still early in the morning, the cool breeze nipping at your skin, you tighten your coat around you. The streets were reasonably quiet. With your hands safely stowed away in your pockets, sheltered from the wind, you make your way down the street. The unmistakable form of the kiosk was one of the few places open so early. You pick up the newspaper while you exchange a few words with the older man behind the counter. It wasn't the smoothest of conversations. Undeniably, Arvin had been on your mind. Something about him made you look forward to seeing him again. With the newspaper under your arm, you continue. Therefore sleep didn't come easily last night. Twisting and turning in the sheets. What bothered you, you couldn't pinpoint exactly. But it had something to do with Arvin, you figured as much. The night was short as you woke up way before your alarm clock did go off—a terrible start to the day.

You turn into the alley leading to the backdoor. Not much movement this early in the morning. Your heart skips a beat as you are frozen on the spot. Seeing a figure hunched together beside the backdoor of the diner. The denim jacket and cap immediately gave away who it was. "Arvin?" You asked the obvious, slowly approaching. "Is...Is that you?"

A pair of tired eyes paired with furrowed brows shot up at you while you fish the keys from your pocket. His handsome face was lined, and eyes set deep into its sockets, riddled with sleep—a frustrated but tired gaze connected with yours. You can't help but notice the trembles shaking his frame as you come close. "Hey." He grumbled as the simple greeting came from his shuddering lips. The cold and fatigue certainly got a good grip on him. 

"You're... early?" You said somewhat sarcastically. "Something happened?" 

"R-Ran into some problems." He groaned, followed by a coughing fit that almost knocked his lungs out. "So I…eh slept here." 

"Damn… Do I wanna know what happened?" Arvin's condescending stare said more than enough. The way he communicated through that stare—the eye contact. You knew enough. You shook your head in disbelief. "Well, c'mon." Extending him a hand to help him on his feet. "I'll get you started with something warm." A firm grasp takes your hand, but his fingers were cold through and through, followed by a gaze of threatening eyes. You caught it in a glimpse. It was more than enough. Just what you thought. The red of his knuckles, skin rough and stained with dried blood. Arvin had been in a fight of some sort. 

"What?" He snorted in derision. Pulling back his hand from yours as he got onto his legs. His anger, sudden, and ferocious. There was a moment of thoughtful silence as he inched closer beside you. He was aware of what you saw. But wasn't going to admit it, nor tell you. 

"Nothin…" You replied. Careful not to show your disappointment. "Let's head inside."

Arvin took a seat at the bar, with your jacket wrapped around him. Just to give some extra warmth. Eyes small and dim, an expression of defeat and a glare that had tiresome written all over it. His shoulders hung low, and his posture sat like a wreck on the stool. 

"Did you even sleep?" Placing a big pot of tea beside him. He only answered by shaking his head, wrapping his hands around the mug. Life slowly returning to his pale-looking fingers. You let him sit in silence as you sip your morning coffee. Arvin's gaze stuck somewhere beyond the passing traffic. A thousand-yard stare. It sure was his trademark—so absent-minded, sulking on his own. Jaw locked and sucking on his teeth. You weren't a morning person either, but this was something else.

"Tidy up." You said while putting a warm moist cloth beside his hands. "You'll scare the customers."

"I don't follow." Came the grunted reply. Sipping on his steaming hot cup of tea. His reply almost sounded like a challenge, rather than this usual angry tone you got used to. 

"The blood-" You nod to his knuckles. Looking all sore and red. "On your hands. You... need a bandage or...?" The response was none. He just looked at you. Sometimes a car caught his attention before looking back at you. You think to notice a small curvature on the corner of his lips. Making you a little unsure of what to do. "You okay, Arvin?"

"You'd like to know...?" He asked with a growing smirk, slowly tilting the cup to his lips. The smile now more prominent than before. "Wouldn't you…"

"Arvin…" You sighed and rolled your eyes. "It's more-"

"Goodmorning!" A voice called out in the back. Interrupting you mid-sentence. Making you jump a little. You hop over to Arvin and pull the jacket away from him, just in time as your father turned the corner. "Well, good morning to you too." He flashed a smile towards Arvin. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Before Arvin had said a word, you already interjected; rather smoothly, you had to admit. "This is Arvin." You introduced. "And we were just talking about the job…"

"Oh! Nice meeting you." Extending his hand towards Arvin. "I'm (YOUR DADS NAME)." Shaking his hand. "So you're here for the kitchen? That's good! Jerry will be delighted to hear that." Arvin watched you with big eyes as you continued to talk in on your dad. Desperate not to let Arvin ruin the hold thing. But for one, Arvin didn't follow at all. His mind was too hazy to process this much so early in the morning. After a few minutes of conversation, your dad turns to Arvin. "All sounds good. You got experience?"

"Well... ehm." He stammered somewhat inaudible. Nervously shielding his bruised knuckles with his other hand. "I…"

" You... mentioned… your gran-" Trying to put the words in his mouth, mimicking the words with your lips. But Arvin clearly wasn't following. A confused expression crawled on his face as you exchanged glances. "Grand--... M-

"-Grandmother… Yes." He said, finally catching on. "I… learned from my grandmother."

"Ah! Okay. Well, we don't serve that kind of food here." Your father bellowed in laughter. "But experience is best shown via practice. When you're ready, hop on in the kitchen and serve us some breakfast." Your dad says, pulling off his jacket. "Give us a call when you're ready." And turns to you. "I'll be upstairs, do some paperwork. How was yesterday?" 

"Good, good. Nothing special. But listen…" Pushing him along towards the staircase in the back. Out of earreach of Arvin. "Arvin needs some living space. If he's good, which I think he really is, maybe he can sleep upstairs? One of the older rooms." 

"I thought you were thinking about-"

"No, no, no… That can wait. I can wait. But what do you think?"

"Yeah, of course. We can make that work. If you think he's good. Go for it. But he better make us a good breakfast." He laughs and pats you on your shoulder, starting to scale the flight of stairs. "Call me when it's done." You let out a sigh of relief as you close the door behind you. A good start so far. 

But dark clouds were gathering near the bar. You could see it in his eyes. Arvin's kind and smiling expression he faked in front of your dad. Those expressions had vanished, replaced by something of an animal's howl of outrage. "What did you just do?!" Arvin jumped off his stool, aggressively barged towards you. "You-"

"If you mean to ruin this for yourself-..." You cut him off. "-speak... louder."

"I didn't ask for any of this!" He hissed with his teeth clenched, like a wolf snarling at his prey. But surprisingly, in a lowered tone. Confronting you close up. His balled up fists threatening what came next. 

"Then why are you whispering-...?" You grinned. "-Arvin?"

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into!" His breath ragged with the passion of his anger and fuelled rage, big brown eyes peered into yours. For a moment, you were afraid that he might do something to you. "Do you?!" 

"No, but neither do you." You fired back at him. "Don't be mad at me. I'm merely giving you a chance."

"If I wanted that, I'd ask for it!" He snarled up close, the spittle almost flying across your face. "For ev-"

"Stay angry all you want." You said without letting him finish. "You can walk right out of the door if you want, or… you step into that kitchen and make something of it." You let the words sink in. Stepping past him, you turn around and pat his shoulder. "Think about it. It's a chance to start anew."

"I…" He sighed without finishing his sentence before even starting it. "You don't even know me."

"What's your point?"

"Why would you help me?!" He held his pose as he spoke, the dark brown intensity of his eyes never leaving yours. "Out of all the people that walk in here, why me?"

"It's simple." You toss the pen aside. Feeling the frustration of his misplaced mistrust starting to annoy you. "I just want to help you, Arvin. That's all." Your breath quickened for a moment as you stood there facing each other. Locked in one and other's gaze. "I… I felt…" But shake the thoughts from your mind. "I felt sorry for you."

"You shouldn't..." He mumbled, gazing into the distance. Locking his jaw as he mulled over your words. Trying to look tough. "I don't need someone else's pity." Throwing his knapsack over his shoulder. And starts heading for the door. "I'm a lost cause."

"Then what do you have left to lose? Nothing. Right?"

"I'm free to go wherever the fuck I want." He sneered, jabbing an angry finger against your chest. "Because you did something nice doesn't mean I have to repay you."

"That's not…" You sighed deeply, frustrated at his stubbornness. Seeing him walk away again. "Arvin… don't go."

"Oh shut up." He snarled, waving a dismissive hand.

"I'm sorry." You apologized. Ashamed of your comment earlier. "I shouldn't have said that. And, I… didn't mean it that way. It's… I haven't slept well and..." 

"You and me both." He said. Leaving you a little bit surprised. A moment of silence filled the room. Upstairs you could hear your dad walking. For a moment, youre afraid he might have heard something. "I'm sorry too." He hung his head low. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You didn't deserve that."

"Will you at least think about, Arvin. I want you to know, my father has agreed on lending you a room upstairs." You said while averting your gaze, back to your work. "You can stay there for a while." And head towards the ledger spread out before on the counter. Arvin stood there, frozen on the spot. Hand on the door. Ready to leave. "Think about it, Arvin."

His eyes widened, the aggression in his expression sank away, replaced by guilt. "Are you… Are you serious?" He turned to you. "(Y/N)?"

"Yes, I believe in you. You just… need a little bit of help." You said. "Worst case, my dad laughs about it, and he'll teach you himself. He can't see the bad in people. He only wants to bring the best out of them."

"Runs in the family." He says with a small smile growing. You only catch it in a glimpse as you watch him turn around, walking towards one of the hanging aprons behind the bar. You watch him from the corner of your eye and can't help but smile. Fiddling with the apron and cleaning his hands. He seemed like a good lad. And you were happy he at least was giving it a shot. "Arvin." You called just before he entered the kitchen, mentioning him to come over. "Make the bacon extra crispy for my dad. You'll score extra points."

"I will." He smiled and nodded. "I will." And watch him enter the kitchen. 

"And don't forget yourself." You add on while you try to focus on the numbers in front of you. But they didn't hold any interest to you. Opening hour was just around the corner, but this day had already gotten so much better. Your smile was hard to suppress. But why would you? A smile of happiness. Now it's up to him.

"(Y/N)" Arvin's voice came from behind you. Waking you from your derailed train of thought. As you turned around, you see him leaning on his forearms through the little serving counter. "When this turns out-" 

"It will, Arvin." You immediately said with confidence, followed with a smile. "Trust me. It will." 

"Okay." He chuckled softly. "Well...Do you… eh maybe want to get a drink sometime?" Asking with a slight nervousness to his voice. "No cigarettes." He added, a tender smile curving his lips. "I… also... still owe you for last night, so..." 

"Now I have to make this work." You chuckle, rubbing the nape of your neck. Feeling a rush of heat shoot across your cheeks. "Sounds good, Arvin."

[mimiplaysgames]

Terraqua Week Day 2 (Rivalry)

Summary: Growing up with your best friend is the greatest joy, the greatest nuisance, the greatest heartache. (The one where they kiss after their fight in Radiant Garden). || Word Count: 6,705

Read on AO3

A/N: My submission for the second day of @terraquaweek !! Title is from a quote from Eraqus from BBS. It’s pretty much the only line in the game that sums up Terra and Aqua, and it’s partly the reason why they’re so amazing. This whole rivals to lovers thing is so much like enemies to lovers and I WANT TO EAT IT ALL. I’m especially proud of this one - I had so much writing it!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

for when equal powers clash, their nature is revealed

CHILDHOOD

 It was a strange dream but she doesn’t remember it when she wakes up, just that it left her with a coppery taste in her mouth and a fog blanketing her thoughts. Something is coming, and she can’t prepare for it. 

Aqua decides to tell her best friend about it. 

Terra is waiting for her in the woods. They like to hike to the lake, to listen to the birds in the summer. They like to spar away from the training grounds of the castle sometimes, away from the Master’s eyes so they could practice without any scrutiny. She’s grateful to have Terra—he’s just as crazy as her when it comes to their studies. Books past midnight? Sign me up. Spar for five hours? Your ass is grass. Forgo an entire night of sleep to talk about outside worlds, about their worries, their pride, finally being a Master? We won’t be efficient for training tomorrow, but here’s what I’m thinking. 

She finds him at the mouth of the forest, a trail down from the waterfall. Terra is lobbing balls of fire, an excited grin on his face, itching to get moving. Too much energy for a fourteen-year-old in the morning. 

“What does that mean?” Terra asks her when she describes the dream.

Well, she can’t really describe it. Nothing happened. Darkness. Questions spoken in her head, worries that there was a darker darkness moving around in the shadows stalking her. A nagging suspicion that inside its mouth was something she should have pulled out. 

“Nothing’s going to get you here. You’re safe,” Terra says, though she doesn’t need reassurance. “Should we go back?” 

“No, please.” Aqua keeps her nose high. “The lake is a good place to rest.”

But they wouldn’t rest. They both love the thrill: training their magic, the thought of an upcoming exam two weeks from now, essays. They can’t help themselves. 

Terra punches the air, an energy blast shooting out from his arm. Another fire spell, his favorite. When he gets too involved though, too much, he becomes obsessive—obsessed with winning, obsessed with tripping her up, obsessed with outlasting her. The fury in how he builds his attacks is what makes Terra a dangerous opponent.

He’s perfect.

Aqua dodges and summons an ice spell to repel him, sweeping her kick so it spreads out. That’s the best strategy—tire him out, make him run after her, evade and exhaust, evade and exhaust, strike him when he’s almost done. 

Pull. She hears. Pull from it.

One of his attacks breaks her barrier, and she grins, twirling while she heals herself. Every moment she stumbles is another opportunity to learn how to beat him. They’ll talk about their duel after they finish. They’ll gloss over technique and how to improve. Every time they spar, their bond is reforged, connected, strengthened, unbreakable. 

Terra throws another blow. 

Pull.

This one catches her off guard. 

Aqua gasps and shields herself with her arm without a spell to protect her. Terra chokes on her name, too late to warn her.

A light explodes in her face, a flash of flower petals, a spell so instinctual she can’t articulate where it comes from. Her hand wraps around metal, as though an invisible hand has shoved it to her, strong but as light as her feet, a thrum deep underneath, a heartbeat. Its arrival blocks the attack with a barrier.

“A-Aqua?”

She holds her Keyblade in her hand. 

“Huh.” Terra grimaces, stepping back. 

The Keyblade is curved, striking at the tips, like a slice of movement. Blue and silver, a cool brush of a touch as chilling as snow on her fingertips but warm all the same, the feeling of a beloved embracing her. Aqua jumps in excitement, squealing. She had drawn images in her journal for what it would look like. This is better, much more beautiful.

“I don’t have a name for it, yet,” she says, laughing.

Terra doesn’t laugh with her. “Congrats,” he says, his enthusiasm on a chokehold, his hand rubbing his hip because it can’t find his pocket. 

Oh. He’s two years older than her, the first child to come to the Land of Departure, and he can’t conjure his Keyblade yet.

“Terra?”

“I’m fine.” He’s not.

“Wait.” She follows him into the thicket. He’s speedwalking, trying to get away from her. “Don’t be sad. Yours will come soon.” He doesn’t slow down. “Maybe I can help.”

Terra scoffs, scorched. At least he stops. “Or maybe not.”

Aqua fiddles with the tip of her wonderful Keyblade, rolling it onto her palm. “I was thinking how happy I was sparring with you. We’re best friends and I was thinking that…” Heat pools into her cheeks. “I was thinking we’d be best friends forever. Then she came to me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “That’s nice.”

“I summoned mine in the middle of danger,” she offers. “Maybe you need the same.”

He arches a brow. But he softens, blinking back tears. “You think that would work?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“We could tie you down. I can cover you in ice.”

Terra’s face contorts, as if stopping a snort. “That’s the best you can offer?”

“Should I hang you by your toes and put leeches in your shirt?”

Terra cracks a smirk and she sighs, relieved. 

Once he’s able to summon his own Keyblade, they could go home and declare the semester over. The Master will be so impressed. 

Aqua calls for an ice spell to stay near. With the Keyblade, it’s much more natural, as if the chasm she normally has to pray through is now a step away. “I won’t hold back,” she warns.

Terra brings his fists together, heat simmering off his skin as a fire spell starts to build. “Good.”

He is the first to strike. Aqua dodges as the flames lick under her shoes, swinging her Keyblade forward. Ice sparks out from its tip and shoots forward in a straight line. It’s so much easier to aim now. Terra sways his hands into a cupping motion, as if picking up dirt into a bowl. Flames burst out of the ground, creating a wall that melts the ice before it hits him.

But Terra has a huge disadvantage: because she’s faster at summoning spells with the Keyblade, she can race around him, dodging everything he comes up with. He’s stuck in one spot, forced to place all his focus on bringing his magic to him in order to pull from it, the worst kind of exposure in a battlefield imaginable.

He wants this, doesn’t he? To be pushed into summoning it?

“Don’t hold back,” he says when she hesitates. He throws a burst of thunder at her. 

“Terra, I don’t like this.”

“You promised,” Terra says, closing a fist. He takes several moments to meditate on a spell, and Aqua stops. He’s trying to summon ice, a weaker command for him. But Terra is smart and Terra is capable. He pushes what he’s conjured with a force strong enough to crush her into a tree. 

She clicks her tongue when he follows that immediately with a fire spell. It nearly singes her hair, and she retaliates in kind—ten fold. Her fire hits him directly on the shoulder, sputtering onto the bush behind him, spreading like wings on the greenery, blackening the tree nearby and jumping to others. 

“Aqua!” Terra grips his shoulder and gapes at the collateral, which is moving too fast to seem real.

“Terra, we have to—”

“Come on!”

Ignoring his injury, he scrambles towards the lake, Aqua following close behind. The forest fire beats heavy behind them, a nasty gray suffocating the sky. The heat molts onto them, the smoke thick and invasive, visibility covered by a layer of graininess. Terra throws himself into the lake and draws a circle on the surface with his good hand. The smoke is now black.

“You need to heal first,” Aqua says, coming up behind him and placing her hand on his shoulder, whispering a spell. Green petals kiss his charred shirt, and he can move his arm better, gathering the water into an invisible bowl to carry back. 

Aqua does the same. She tries sealing the fire with her Keyblade so it stops spreading so far. So much work that seems like it’s doing nothing. So much earth that Terra is throwing onto the fire when the water sizzles away. Aqua almost collapses from the adrenaline keeping her standing, from the sweat and soot filling her eyes, from coughing but no matter how much, she can’t clear her throat. 

The Master finally arrives and points his Keyblade into the sky. A storm cloud gathers, a wave of water to hush everything. Aqua doesn’t know what comes next, only that Terra is picking her up in his arms.

It isn’t until after she wakes up in the infirmary that she realizes what a shithole they’ve dug themselves into.

It’s raining, trickling down the small window that sits above the bed, behind the pillow. Wooden shelves line the walls, filled with potions that she can pronounce and ones that she can’t. Some are so expired the Master has never opened them. Flasks, beakers, needles, syringes, scalpels, gloves spread across the table. Medical books about the nervous system and the heart are plenty here. There should be two about herbal remedies, but they’re gone.

She hears the Master and Terra bickering on the other side of the door.

“Am I to believe,” the Master says, icy and sharp, “the day she summons her Keyblade for the first time and a sudden, devastating forest fire is to be simply spooned together as a coincidence?”

Terra is quiet at first. “No, Master.”

“Of course not,” he bites.

“I was angry, sir.” This shocks Aqua. “I couldn’t control my magic for a moment.”

That’s not true. He needs to say it was her fault. She didn’t know her own strength and she tried too hard—

The Master scoffs. “I am so disappointed,” he says, his voice shaking in a way she’s never heard before. “I do not have the words. I can’t bear to look at you.”

Her heart sinks. She can’t imagine. She can’t imagine how awful Terra must feel. 

The door opens, and Terra slips inside with a gathering of fresh herbs in his hand. His face is ashen and pale. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice brittle. He’s about to sob.

Aqua moves and flinches. Her arm. “Ugh.”

“Don’t move.” He rips the leaves off and stuffs them into a mortar. “Your arm is badly burnt. The Master already healed you, but you need longer term care.” Somehow, he doesn’t cry.

Aqua pulls the sheet over her down. Red splotches trail from the shoulder down to the elbow. The Master took care of the severe scarring, but it hurts like she’s still in a pyre. “The fire?”

Terra sniffs and mixes the herbs with the pestle. “The Master took care of it. He hasn’t given me my punishment yet.” Briskly, he approaches her, spreading the concoction over her skin. “This should work better than a potion.”

“Our herb master,” she says, hoping it would make him smile. It doesn’t. Terra has dedicated himself to potion making and teas, considering that healing spells are hardest for him. When he finishes balming her in the mix, he reaches for bandages, holding her by the wrist so he can wrap the entire arm. “You shouldn’t move this for a while.”

“Terra?”

He doesn’t look at her, pinning the bandages in place. 

“Thank you,” she says.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

Terra climbs into the bed with her. It’s a narrow cot, the mattress thin and overused, the sheets washed too many times that its threads fray. Terra holds her good hand, bringing it up between their faces. Tears roll down his cheeks and pool on the pillow. “You’re going to be okay,” he says, “right?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. The mix soothes the superficial burns but it takes its time relieving the stabbing pain that comes with such an intense injury. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

Terra frowns, staring at the folds of the pillow under his face. “I didn’t want him yelling at you.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow—”

“Nah.” He wills a smirk and it looks fake. “We should… celebrate your accomplishment, you know?”

For some reason, it makes her guilty. “Are you really that mad at me?”

“What? No.” He bites his lip. “No, I just… I’m stupid.”

Aqua stares at him. “You’re not.” 

He scoffs. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t fail at the most basic part of being a wielder.”

“Your Keyblade?”

He shakes his head. It’s not fair.

“Why didn’t it come?”

“I don’t know.” He sighs.

Aqua gives his hand a light squeeze. “Maybe I was wrong.”

“Pssh. Maybe?” He grins.

She would hit him on the shoulder, but she hurts too much. “Maybe my approach isn’t your approach.”

“Meaning what?”

“Maybe your Light needs something different.”

His smile falls, like that of a lost and abandoned child. “But I don’t know what it wants from me.”

“Hmmm.” Aqua thinks hard, staring at the way his eyebrows furrow as he thinks with her. “You like to protect.”

“Okay?”

“Maybe your Keyblade isn’t about connecting with others or making friends like mine is. Maybe you’re happiest protecting and taking care of them.”

Terra purses his lips, blushing. “I guess.”

“Look.” She lifts her bandaged elbow, wincing. “You took care of me.”

“I took care of a sap.”

“Who was the one crying over me?”

“My secret evil twin. He wants to make me look bad.”

“What kind of a joke is that?” She sticks her tongue out. “Sometimes, I hate your face.”

Terra laughs for real this time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

BEFORE THE EXAM

 The books she needs are not where they’re supposed to be on the shelf.

“Terra!” she calls. 

“Shhh,” she hears from the other side. Terra is sitting on one of the numerous tables in the library, a long, five-story ballroom with windows for walls, the ceiling a skylight. It allows for the sun to beam on them from all directions, on ornate gold-plated shelves with ladders on wheels for the books out of reach. Of all the desks he could have chosen, figures he’d be right here where she’s frantically searching, just to spite her. “We’re in a library,” he says, voice low.

Aqua refuses to whisper. “We’re the only ones here.”

“How rude.”

“To who?”

Terra gestures to the open book splayed under his hand. “I’m reading.”

He has seven other books stacked next to his parchment and pen. Preliminaries start tomorrow—the preliminaries that would determine their eligibility for the Mark of Mastery next year—and essays are due. 

On top of the stack is Darkness and the War for Light, right above The Stars As Your Guides and the ever-necessary Affairs of the Heart.

“I need those,” she says.

“You know the rules—”

“They’re arbitrary.”

“—first dibs, first reads.”

“You can’t read them all at once.”

“Watch me, I’m impressive.” Terra bites his lip to restrain a snort, those deep eyes waiting for her reaction, his strong cheekbones suspended in a smirk. She wants to punch him in the face. 

Aqua exhales. Without saying a word, she snatches the book at the top of the stack before he could stop her, bolting for the other side of the table. Terra scrambles out of his chair, tackling her from her behind so he could yank it out of her arms. She’s laughing under the weight of his chest, heat rising to her cheeks.

“You’ll have to fight me for it,” she warns. 

Terra snorts, his breath brushing her shoulder. “Really?” He grips the book and pulls. He’s stronger than her and they both know it.

The trick to defeating an opponent so much larger than you is to hit them at their most exposed. Aqua elbows him in the gut, and leaves Terra clutching his side so she could take a seat at the table, where her own unfinished essay awaits. 

“I guess that’s fair,” he groans.

“You sought a challenge, so accept your defeat.”

Aqua flips pages of Darkness—this year, it was especially important that they recognize signs of Darkness lurking near. Rage, scheming, impure intentions, greed, selfishness, fear. They’re present in subtle ways. Sometimes people act without realizing. Sometimes people are fully aware. Both are dangerous.

She grunts when she’s shoved over. 

Terra brings his parchment with him when he fills her seat, his hips so wide that she’s left with the corner. 

“It could be more comfortable,” he complains. His body is warm.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing my essay, but you took my book.”

The one he wasn’t using. Aqua inhales. “Terra—”

“I had first dibs. You broke the honor code, so you left me with no choice.” He smirks. His face is nose to nose with hers, and she imagines closing the gap. “We can share.”

“Fine,” she musters, averting her gaze. It’s awkward staring at him when his eyes look like they’re about to swallow hers.

They work. The book sits between their respective essays, the scratch of pen on paper the only noise filling the room, especially when he strikes long lines across words he no longer wants. He leans over her shoulder to read, his breath heavy on her cheek. If they were in different places, if he had her in an embrace, she could probably feel for his heartbeat. 

Though this isn’t something she should be thinking about right now, not when she’s trying to read the three tenants in combating the Darkness. Vow Number One: Do not give yourself to Temptation. 

“You’re very distracting,” he says, his voice so close to her ear that it sounds like yelling. 

She jumps. He took the words right out of her mouth. “Speak for yourself. You’re too big for this chair.”

“There’s one right next to you.” She could hear how much he loves this.

“I sat here first.”

He leans back and wraps his arm around the backrest. “I have to defend my space.”

“Then you can squirm.”

He huffs, and it suspiciously sounds like he’s pleased with that. Aqua reads a sentence, scans the current page, and flips to the next one.

Terra swats her hand and turns it back. “I wasn’t finished with that one.”

Aqua would scream if she already didn’t enjoy this. She’ll never admit that out loud. “So you’re just,” she starts slowly, “going to police how fast I read this book?”

“Depends on where I am.” 

“You’re slowing me down.”

“You’re not being considerate.”

“I can do the same thing.” She flips the page back to her spot. 

“Aqua,” he warns.

“Oh, you didn’t like that?” Aqua smirks at him. 

He eyes her and smiles. “You make me want to scream.”

Like a mind reader. “Don’t forget—we’re in a library.”

“Okay.” He pulls the book closer to him.

“Okay.” She pulls it back. 

Terra strengthens his grip on the book, leaning forward and wrapping his other arm around her waist. To use her as a counter-weight, to push off of her so he can claim the prize, Aqua knows this, but her heart jumps at the touch. He drives her crazy in the most delicious way. He’s addictive.

“Nice to see my students finding some time for leisure,” the Master’s voice says, approaching them from the entrance. “A healthy activity during such a time of stress, if I do say so myself. I commend the both of you.”

Aqua doesn’t know about healthy when she’s thinking about all manners of touching. Terra slips away from her. Is the Master being facetious? Should they move to different chairs? Or would that make them look more guilty?

“Terra is deliberately sabotaging my essay,” Aqua says, voice shaky, her sleeve coming up to cover her blush. Terra has his elbows on the table, both of his fists hiding the lower half of his face.

Eraqus tucks a binder under his arm, glancing over their work. Aqua isn’t sure if she’s seeing things, but she swears that’s a smirk underneath his moustache.

“Well,” he says. “These will be the last essays you will write, if everything runs smoothly tomorrow. Quite a reward for all these years of hard work, yes?”

Terra and Aqua nod. 

Eraqus nods along with them, as awkward as the collapse of clothes leaving you naked. “Don’t work too hard,” he advises, and Aqua wants to melt under the table. “Tomorrow will come regardless. Enjoy the time when it is good.”

The Master leaves the library with a different atmosphere. 

“Last essay ever,” Terra repeats, mumbling to himself. He’s frowning. They don’t make a move to a different chair, as if doing so would have admitted some secret neither of them even know but nevertheless, they don’t want anyone else to find out. “Then there’s next year.”

Next year.

Some of Terra’s pages have whole paragraphs crossed out. Maybe that’s why he’s better than her at essay-writing. He goes beyond. He’ll scrub out parts he’s already written when he realizes they no longer serve him, drenched in ink blots when he notices small errors. Even with a complete essay, Terra will rewrite it from scratch, to prepare clean pages with no mistakes. Aqua doesn’t consider herself lazy with essays. She just never had a difficult time writing something the Master will want to read.

But all the effort Terra puts into his work means that he considers angles she’s never thought of before. On the subject of Darkness and Temptation, Terra writes: The Master of Masters writes of Temptation: “To tempt a snake for its loyalty reaps safety in the future,” (Affairs of the Heart, pg. 236). Giving in to Temptation when a Light is about to expire harbors selfishness, and that beacons the Darkness to cloud our minds. If we are doubtful, we too welcome the Darkness. However, if we deny the very thing our Hearts want, when we should be following Them as our closest allies, then we are unable to persevere. I question whether Temptation can only have negative connotations. Our duty is to make sure the Light is in balance, and perseverance is key. How are we supposed to keep the Light bright if ours are too dim? Should we not enjoy our own lives as we see fit, follow our Hearts to bring us fulfillment? Should we not make love, or enjoy the dessert we bake? These trivialities are the very thing people hold dear and protect. It is not our calling to enjoy them, but if we are, then our Hearts are at peace. If happiness is shared, then it is Light worth protecting, even our own. It feeds our strength.

Aqua can’t write like that.

Tomorrow, they’ll spar under the Master’s scrutiny. If they pass, they’ll do it again next year and finish their studies once and for all. Ever since Terra conjured his Keyblade, he’s treated his fights like he’s a bulldozer. Tricky to outmaneuver, keeping her on her toes. 

He’s still the best sparring partner she could ask for, the best teacher when it comes to outlasting opponents. Her only equal.

“I’m nowhere near finished,” Aqua says. 

“Looks like we’re both pulling all-nighters tonight.”

Aqua sighs, and this prompts Terra to hold her hand under the table, interlacing their fingers together. She wants to curl into him, feel what it’s like to really hold him close. 

“We’re going to do fine.” Terra says, his voice soft, but he’s so close he fills her mind and every sensation in her body. He rubs her thumb with his. 

“All-nighters aren’t pleasant,” she says, thinking ahead to a yard of headaches and yawns. “We’ll need energy.” This is the first opportunity to stand up. “I can make coffee and tea for us.”

“And lots of food.” Terra stands with her. “Protein. Nuts are good for energy boosts. I can make us enough meals to sustain us for the rest of the night.”

They’re speaking with the intention to leave something behind that they don’t want to address, packaging their words away from the obvious. Aqua fiddles with her fingers.

Terra moves his essay over. “Maybe we should work on opposite ends of the table,” he says, clearing his throat. His voice is shy. 

“So we can focus.”

“Yeah.” He sounds desperate to agree but also…disappointed? “You can take the book. For now. Consider it my peace offering.” 

“It wasn’t an honorable battle to begin with.” She moves hers over too, measuring in her mind how big of a feast they’d fill the table with. They’ll need more, enough for Ven to pig out every once in a while.

“Says the cheater.”

“You were the one stealing my book!”

“You broke the rules.”

“It wasn’t a fair setup.”

“Aqua, I’m shocked.” Terra feigns displeasure, holding his hand over his heart. “I thought I knew you better.” 

She groans. She hates his beautiful, impeccable face sometimes. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

THEN...

 The conversation is a combustion she can’t prevent from happening. It isn’t supposed to be this way.

“And what is this dangerous task, Terra?” she asks, refusing to believe he’d test the teachings they both held so dear. After all these years. That he’d squander his chances at convincing Eraqus to give him the Mark of Mastery. “It doesn’t sound like what the Master told you to do.”

“It might be a different route, but I’m fighting the Darkness.”

“I’m not so sure. I’ve been to the same worlds as you and I’ve seen what you’ve done. You shouldn’t put yourself so close to the Darkness.”

Ven interjects. “Listen to yourself, Aqua. Terra would never—”

“You mean you’ve been spying on me?” Terra says, his eyes narrowing. To see his beautiful face this hurt—stars, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She should shut up. “Is that what he said to do? The Master’s orders?”

What is she to do? What else does he expect? “He was only…”

Quietly, he says, “I get it,” like the silence in a coffin. 

“Terra—”

“Just stay put! I’m on my own now, all right?”

“Terra, please! Listen! The Master has no reason to distrust you, really! He was just worried.”

Her words fall on deaf ears. Terra is not like this, he’s never like this, turning his back, walking away, leaving her to stand and watch him go. 

“Why?” Ven asks her. “Why would you do this? You’re letting this whole Master thing get to your head.”

Terra has never said that about her, even when pushed. They’ve been pushed and pushed, how is she supposed to mend the tear now? 

“I’ll be right back.”

“He’s really pissed.”

“Stay here.”

“I won’t.” 

Aqua stops. A lot is changing and she can’t keep up. “But Ven—”

Ven purses his lips. “I’ll give you guys some time alone. Then I’m going after him.”

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. She is the odd one out, the one that shouldn’t follow Terra, the one that broke some sort of code by choosing to side with the Master. They should be on the same side. 

“Be safe, please?”

Ven nods, but he isn’t happy about it.

Aqua crosses the alleyway, opening an ornate gate that leads into the town square. Radiant Garden is pretty; they arrived just in time for spring, where the dandelions are yellow and the town is painted in herbal colors. But Aqua can’t get herself to enjoy the view. She can’t appreciate the architecture, the castle, the clock tower, the townsfolk selling their wares, the gentle sunset, not when her heart is collapsing into a growing, weighted pit. Nothing else and no one else exists in the seconds she dashes down the streets.

“Terra!” 

He’s heading towards the city gates, where she assumes he’ll summon his glider and fly away. 

Aqua speeds up as fast as she can, feeling she’s still too slow. He’s about to disappear if she can’t break her bones and fly. She grabs him by the shoulder. “Terra, please. I don’t want the conversation to end the way it did.” 

“Aqua,” he grunts, stepping out of her touch and crossing his arms. “Not now, okay?”

He’s about to turn on her. Don’t let this be the last image she sees.

She hugs him by his waist and buries her face into his shoulder. “Please don’t leave.”

He tenses.

“Please?” 

She doesn’t know what to say. Apologize? For doing what’s expected of her? Shouldn’t he know this?

Shouldn’t she understand on some level, after all these years, that sometimes Terra is way more important than her duties? That she should stand up for him when it’s called for?

When Terra finally wraps his arms around her, she squeezes him tighter, hoping the loss of words would translate. How many minutes does she have left before she has to let go?

Terra splayes his hand on her back, as if to prompt her to loosen up. “I need to go.”

“There’s so much we need to talk about.” Why is her heart pounding this hard?

“I don’t want to talk about anything.”

“I feel so awful for what I’ve said.”

Terra doesn’t reply.

Aqua doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, why she can’t trust in anything, let alone the faith that their bond is unbreakable when she is witnessing how it’s cracking under the pressure. She grabs his face and kisses him, the taste of his mouth unique, warm, sweet, more than she hoped for. 

Terra seizes her when he kisses back. He wants another. And another. He grunts. 

They part for breath, too exposed and in public. Terra takes her aside, into a shadowed alley between a house and the city wall, pushing her against the brick to kiss her harder. She locks his neck in her arms and pulls him in. He’s so enveloped in her lips and he’s so angry, his teeth sliding and nipping barely on her skin like he’s fighting to win, his pelvis on hers, his chest pressing her, squeezing her breath away. She doesn’t want him to let her go. 

He pulls away, his touch slacked. Heavy in breath, lips swollen, eyes watery, he trembles as if he’s done something awful. Aqua has her hand on his chest right over his heart, where it thrums quick and strong. He’s strong, he’s always been. She has to believe that.

“I don’t compare to you,” he croaks. 

Fear churns in Aqua’s stomach, and she reaches for his wrist. “You do. You—” She doesn’t know what to say. “You shouldn’t think that way.”

Terra pulls from her, snapping their connection, leaving it cold where he was warm. It hurts. “I have to do this alone.”

“Terra—”

“Master Aqua,” he says, and her heart drops. “Please, respect my wishes. This is something I need to do if I’m ever going to—” He doesn’t finish. Instead, he turns over his shoulder, the crown of his dark hair glistening in the light of the sun where he disappears past the city gates. He doesn’t come back.

Aqua wraps her arms around herself, caressing the warmth he left behind for as long as possible before it inevitably leaves her too. She wonders if there is meaning in what just happened, wonders what he’s telling himself that would set him down this path. She’s scared of what will happen if she follows him.

She has to follow him. She has to make sure he’s alright. She prays he makes the right decisions, that they won’t have to fight. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

NOW

At night, the library is surrounded by stars. Twelve years in the Realm of Darkness and Aqua has forgotten that the library is all windows, bookshelves suspended in a birdcage on the side of the castle. It’s drizzling, droplets appearing at random, with none of the weight to drip down the glass. The lights are off, a glow polluting in from the hallway.

Terra is here, lying on a gold and white couch, the stand ornate and the cushions embroidered. 

“Welcome to the insomnia party,” he says. 

Aqua sits by his ankles. Terra rests his head on his arms, and lets go of the stars above the storm clouds to watch her. He leans up on one elbow and offers her a smile, but it’s a mimic of one. Who knows the reason why he can’t sleep. She won’t ask.

“Can we,” she starts, bringing her knees to her chin. “Talk?”

“We are.”

On the spot, Aqua blanks. “I don’t know where to start.”

He scoffs and unhooks his elbow, plopping back on the cushion. “Pick a place. We’ll get lost together and have to backtrack anyway.” He sighs, rolling his head towards the floor. “I can’t look at any of these books the same way again.” 

Five stories of them, and not a single explanation for what happened. 

“When it got tough and I needed to rely on my knowledge,” Aqua says, counting words on her essays over the years: 20,000. “I found that none of it could help us.”

“I’ve had questions ever since I started my apprenticeship,” Terra says, staring at the glass ceiling. “Many of them are still unanswered. What was the point?”

“None of it was relevant in the Realm of Darkness.”

Terra rolls over into a fetal position, burrowing his face into his arms. “So what did help?”

“Thinking of you and Ven.” The thought right now makes her smile, a little thing, a blink in the darkness. 

“I thought of you every day,” he says, morosely, shyly, with a speck of hope and a mix of self-awareness. After twelve years, Aqua still knows him so well and she’s grateful he’s (almost) the same Terra she came home to.

The thought of that chokes her. “I didn’t want it to be this way,” she says. “Any of it.”

“None of us did.”

“I meant…” She pauses, watching closely. The outline of his shoulders, the shape of his brow. They’re furrowed. “Our dream was to become Masters together.”

His shoulders tick. “I should have congratulated you.”

“What?”

“When you were titled Master. I didn’t congratulate you. I’m sorry for being self-centered.”

After twelve years, that’s the last thing in her mind. “I was thinking of withdrawing the title.”

Terra shoots up, face to face with her. “Why?”

“Like I said,” Aqua whispers, now that he’s so close. “Our dream was to be Masters together.” 

“No way.”

“You’re quite passionate about this.” Aqua rubs her knee. A nervous habit, something for her body to do. It used to be natural to hold his hand. 

Terra slaps his forehead. “I can’t let you do that. Not after all the work you’ve done.”

“You’ve worked hard, too.”

“And everything you’ve survived.”

“What you did was not survival?”

Terra gapes. “I don’t know, but I need to own my mistakes. I should have accepted my setbacks and my weaknesses…I wasn’t a good friend to you.”

Aqua sighs. “Don’t tell me you don’t deserve it.” 

“I don’t want to think about what I deserve. I only know that you deserve better.”

Deserving and not deserving sound like arbitrary definitions, markers of work ethic and integrity when everyone deserves peace of mind. “Then it sounds like you need to work really hard in the next couple of weeks.”

He blinks at her sudden change of tone. “Doing what?”

“Passing the Mark of Mastery.” She looks at her knee. “If you want me to keep my title, you have to pass.”

“You’re keeping your title regardless.”

“Pass and become Master with me.” 

“Aqua,” he warns. 

“That is the only condition.”

Terra leans his elbow on the backrest, and laughs into his hand. Laughs. It’s a weak and unpracticed song. She forgot what it sounded like. “You drive me crazy,” he says, “but it makes me so happy.”

She swallows. “I’ll contact Yen Sid to schedule the date.”

“Don’t get cheeky. You haven’t won this conversation.”

“Yes, I have.”

When the chuckles shared between them fade out, Terra studies her face, starting at the tip of her forehead, running his eyes down her nose and lips. The quiet is unwelcome.

“Do I look different?” Aqua asks.

“Not really.” He blinks, and it’s too dark to tell if he’s staring into her eyes. “You don’t smile like you used to. It’s like you’ve dimmed the lantern.”

“I can say the same about you,” she says. He’s tired, leaning on the couch like he can’t sit up on his own. He needs effort to speak. When he smiles, they’re delayed, as though he’s lost and needs to be reminded that he lives in reality now. He’s still beautiful. Terra doesn’t ask her to elaborate, but she supposes he understands exactly what she means. She supposes it’s the same for her.

Terra takes her hand and pulls it closer to him. “I do feel better with you around.”

Aqua grips the fabric of her stocking. “The last real conversation we had shouldn’t have been a fight.”

“It’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Oh.” She holds her breath. “Wait, I shouldn’t be sorry for the fight or…” The kiss? She can’t bring herself to ask.

Terra smiles into his knuckles, and a spark of flame ignites his eyes. That’s what it is. Their hearts are tired. No book in the library can teach them how to bring them back to life. How to give it an ounce of oxygen to fan the warmth. Or how to provide a touch of oil, a passionate something to make it burst and remind them what it’s like to really want to hold a Keyblade. Aqua wonders if Terra’s essay on the subject is somewhere in the Master’s old office. 

“You know what, I’m sorry,” Terra says, stroking his thumb on the back of her hand. “For that stupid fight. For being stupid enough to have issues with you being Master and for leaving. For being incredibly stupid for not staying in Radiant Garden with you and Ven.” He giggles again.

“Why is that funny?”

“I should have stayed and kissed you longer.” He blinks back tears, inhaling sharply in shock of what he just said. “I guess I needed to get that off my chest.”

Aqua snorts and brings a hand to her cheek. “Yeah, you should have stayed and kissed me longer.”

They say nothing else. Terra takes her face into his large hands and brings her to him, lips to lips, warmth on warmth, chest to chest, heart to heart. He breathes into her, pulling her waist in so she could lie next to him, his heartbeat loud and clear, eager and anxious. A fire grows inside her stomach—she’s forgotten she’s ever felt like this before, years ago when they’ve touched and never went further. It’s invigorating, it’s relaxing. Not a blaze born out of excitement but a gentle hearth, something more than a flicker of the flame in a lantern. Alive.

He mumbles into her ear. “By the way, I have every intention of being the better kisser.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just so you know.”

“We’re really going to be doing this with the kissing?”

“Doing what?”

“What we’ve always done.”

“There’s no contest here.”

“But you want to be the best kisser.”

“I will be the best kisser.” He smiles, digging his nose into her hair. “I must be good enough for you to enjoy it. Therefore, naturally, I have to aspire to be really damn good. That’s all.” 

Aqua giggles into his chin, soft and careful and excited when his arm curls around her waist, squeezing her into him. She loves that he laughs with her. She loves his beautiful, cocky face.

They exchange small words in between, a gasp of surprises, whispers about old memories, requests for what she wants, for what he wants. Two wicks to a single candle, held gently between their hands.