#but alas. I will just settle for another reread

[fragilecapric0rnn]

sometimes that fic you loved when you were 16 will stand the test of time and get you out of a reading slump when you’re 26

[ohheyitsokay]

Omg I'm SO sorry!!! I'm the soulmates pain AU anon, I was completely aware you were the one with the milestone!! I saw the post through Molly's rb and I was almost completely sure I had opened your blog to send you the ask but alas, the Tumblr app can never give you any certainties. That long-ass message was completely dedicated to you, I still can't quite grasp how I managed to send it to scribbledghost 🙄🙄🙄 Sorry!!! Congrats again, I love you!!!!

for reference a Din Djarin x reader soulmate request where your soulmate feels your injuries and pain

hello, dear heart!

I wanted to say, before anything else, thank you. I've reread your words multiple times since you sent this, confirming they were to me, and they really mean the world to me. thank you so, so much! anyway, your idea is fantastic, I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you like seeing what I did with your already wonderful thoughts 💕

ps it's well documented that I'm a big fan of sprawling thoughts, so please never apologize for sharing them!

warnings: mentions canon-typical injuries, a bunch of fluff. at least enough for a couple of throw pillows

>>

soulmate requests / follower celebration

<<

There's a short burn on his forearm when he wakes.

Din stares at it, wondering at the dull ache, trying to place the injury from yesterday's adventure when it hits him. Hot and golden warmth, flooding through his chest, thawing his flesh against the cold filtered air.

It's one of yours.

A burn, on his forearm.

And selfishly, indulgently, he pauses for a moment, mind slipping away from duty and expectations to dwell in the daydream of his soulmate.

First, his mind creates an image of a blurry mandalorian caretaker, gently moving around a kitchen in the covert. You stir a pot, tapping the spoon on the side before setting it down. Hearing distant calls, you turn too quickly and oh - a sliver of burn along your arm.

Din wants to help, wants to pull you away from the domestic .... danger, and he rushes forward. Your helmet turns to him and he almost sees it - before his mind can no longer produce the answers he aches for late at night.

The second image is of you, in armor as gleaming as his own, in a thick, unrecognizable forest. The hairs on his neck are at full attention, already subconsciously wanting to shout - but you don't need his help. You're breathtaking in all versions of his daydream - but watching you fight with practiced ease punches the air from his lungs. For a moment he feels self-conscious of his awkward maneuvers and slapdash fighting but then his mind pulls him back. You're protecting someone, or else you wouldn't have messed up - you never do, injuries from you are too rare - but you shove them behind you, shooting an enemy over your shoulder before your helmet snaps back. There are so many - you're surrounded - and a hot, sharp blaster bolt grazes your forearm before your fury is truly unleashed.

He runs his fingers over the burn, almost giddy at the possibilities.

Mandalorians are few and far between, but he's grateful he has a soulmate, and even more thankful you've kept yourself out of harm's way almost entirely, since you'd been connected.

As he dons his layers, the shine of his armor reflects bruises and scrapes littered across the expanse of his skin. His own, from his journey, and one beautiful little burn from his soulmate.

And then they're covered, and the armor is tied securely in place, and he leaves his daydreams in the room as the ship door slides unceremoniously shut.

-

You hiss at the burn, clutching your arm.

Great. Just what you needed - another injury to add to your impressive collection.

At least my soulmate gets a gift from me this time. You roll your eyes.

The vendor next to your stall is a sweet lady, already apologizing for her steaming pots and pans and offering you compensation.

The credits would be nice, but you could hardly justify taking anything, especially since it was your soulmate's fault your body was riddled with aches and pains in the first place.

Waving your hand, you accept her counter offer - a bowl of her perfect broth and noodles - before retreating. You sell cloth, from beautiful dyed lengths tucked away to sturdy, unstainable blacks, and it was days like today that you thanked your stars for that choice.

There's a thick pile in the middle that you perch on, sinking into the folds as your body cries at you, and you sigh over your soup in relief. The burden of waking to webbing bruises and sprawling scrapes and the more-than-occasional broken bone is eased by your stall - sitting and haggling until the sun goes down. That is, unless there's drama in the market, as it seems there is today.

In the distance you hear shouts, more than those of vendors selling meat on sticks to passing warriors and merchants - the taunts of drunkards.

Someone is coming, and you almost laugh when you see his form in the distance, because he's trying and failing to be inconspicuous. It's impossible, with his gleaming armor, but still he ducks into shadowy spots, forgetting - or maybe ignoring - their inhabitants.

"A Mandalorian has graced our market," your neighbor remarks dryly. They were respected, but it was well known that chaos followed them. You share a look, both wishing you were wealthy enough to conpletely pack up shop. If anything, a logical person would put away most of the stock and hunker down for a few hours. Weighing the odds was difficult: if you were lucky, the chaos wouldn't bother your business, and shoppers might be drawn out, hoping for entertainment and spending as they waited. If you weren't, a wayward burst of plasma or blaster fire would destroy your whole month's stock.

You looked at him again, the Mandalorian kneeling down the street. His form was... almost handsome, formidable but careful. He was light on his feet, seemingly with gentleness on his mind, and it drew you in like a moth to flame. You decided to stay, and hope for the best, your curiosity pulsing like your bruises.

And you were lucky, that day, because he ducked away not a moment later, taking the exciment with him.

Until, he came back the next day, this time on the prowl, stalking up and down the edge of Dicer's Row, one hand on his blaster and the other atop a bulky, wriggling bag. This time, you ventured to stand, folding and refolding your displays as you watched him through your lashes.

And then he made his move, and you sighed, feigning a yawn to cover your disappointment from your neighbor's knowing smile. She shouldn't be wiggling her eyebrows over the box wall between you - honestly his type were more annoying than anything. A crash from the alley confirmed it: there was no way a guy like that cared about his soulmate. The gentleness from before was surely a trick of the light.

Your whole side lit up with pain, the impact of something hard against your whole side and you groaned, settling into your mound again. Any curiosity or attraction was snuffed under your annoyance and pain, and your mood soured like fruit left unpicked on the tree.

Selfish, you thought, glaring as a chicken ran squawking from the commotion. What a jerk.

-

The next day, you tried to maintain the sentiment, huffing as he wandered the stalls.

Why does he keep coming back?

You'd have thought his time here was over when he'd dragged that lowlife out of town yesterday. But here he was, buying a crock of soup at the stall next to you, and ignoring her comments about how he couldn't eat it with his helmet on.

She had warmed to him, since he'd put money in her pocket, chattering in a way that kept him stuck for long moments.

It struck you as strange - he almost seemed too awkward to leave, like her returned generosity actually meant something to him. A man like him... surely could've just walked away.

But he stayed for awhile, nodding and looking at the spoons she carved in her free time, and you almost thought he was looking at you, too. Then he ducked his head and planted himself in front of you, and certainly he was.

For all the years you'd spent weaving words to sell your fabrics and goods, you'd never been so speechless. The Mandalorian was large, sharp, shining edges and bulky canvas packs tied to his shoulders - he seemed out of place, filling your whole stall, shuffling as he loomed over you.

He asked for soft brown things - children's clothes.

"Of course, I - I mean, yes, just over here -" you tripped over your words, caught completely off guard by the shape of him, the feel of him just an arms width away, and his request. You stumbled from your seat, nearly toppling in your hurry and his gloved hand wrapped around your arm, catching you.

"You're injured," he stated not really asking. It was... overwhelmingly intimate, him knowing, and acknowledging it, like he cared.

"Yeah, my..." you swallowed, trying not to get lost in the dark glass inches from your face. "My self-centered soulmate keeps getting himself nearly killed."

Even with your heart thumping in your chest, you couldn't keep the bite from your words, bitterness having collected over years of nursing injuries that were consequences of someone else's actions. He didn't let go of you for a moment, his helmet pulling back and tilting, like he was startled.

Then he was cautious, unbearably so, releasing his grip like a child freeing a captured creature when it was time. The topic was dropped, and he made his purchase quickly, but before he left, he paused. The Mandalorian's gloved hand ghosted over your cheek, slowly moving a hair back into it's place, and if you hadn't known better, it was almost an apology.

And then, thick cape swirling in the dust, tiny clothes in tow, he swept away, leaving you along with your whole body alight with a foreign longing.

-

Din felt as though he'd been stabbed.

Hot, hot feelings poured through his chest, spreading fast as fire as he desperately tried to sort through them.

You - you were incredible, fragile and bruised, with the most stunning, determined eyes he had ever seen. Not a Mandalorian, and you had a ... a soulmate, a fucker who left your skin littered with marks, burdening you with ...

He felt panicked, shocked, and guilty, just as he had when you'd told him. It had never occred to him that his soulmate might be there... out there, constantly burdened by his recklessness. His body screamed for attention, something he so often ignored, but this time, he was almost deafened by it.

His feet, legs, arms, chest, heart - all of them wanted him to return to you, in your little fabric stall. To... what? Truly, he hadn't the slightest idea, so his mind won out, shaking a little to try to reign in the muscles that he'd taught to obey him.

He couldn't go to you.

But, he couldn't stay away.

-

He was back in the market, and this time, he wasn't being subtle about staring at you.

Tall and ... slow, he waded through the crowds, making his was towards you like he was following a careful path.

"Can I help you?" You stood, moving almost involuntarily towards him. "Was there something wrong with my -" he was already shaking his head, hands reaching to make you shush.

Waiting, an irrational part of your mind wished he would touch you again, would place his big hands on your skin and sooth the aches that haunted your life. It was unfair, but you didn't stop it, couldn't if you tried.

Carefully, he slid a single finger to your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the little burn you'd gotten.

He was being gentle. It made you want to stomp your feet, jealously welling up in your heart like bile, bitter and hot. How could it be, that someone so powerful had learned so quickly, wanted to, and he wasn't - he wasn't even your -

Then he moved again, pushing up his own sleeve and your thoughts tumbled over each other. It was intimate, even more than before, desperately trusting, as his skin near glowed in the morning light. And there was a burn on his skin, hairs singled like they'd met the edge of a pot of boiling broth.

You wanted to punch him. This man has spent years tossing his body around like he had one one spare, making your own as brittle as bread crust and - you wanted to kiss him. This man had learned after a single day, the impact of his actions, and had been nothing but kind.

The forehead of his helmet pressed into yours, and the two sides of your mind compromised.

Later, words would come - they had to.

But now, your eyes closed, and you sighed. He had the rest of your life to make it up to you - and he would, you were sure.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

[fanmoose12]

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 9/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

“We aren’t looking for Krista Lenz. We’re searching for Historia.”

Despite the evidence quite literally staring right back at her, Hange could scarcely believe what she herself had just said. Krista Lenz, the missing girl she was searching for, wasn’t actually Krista Lenz? Apparently, the girl’s name was Historia, at least, according to the birth certificate. But it didn’t make any sense, and, what’s worse, it raised so many additional questions…

The main question, of course, was the reason for why the girl was living under a false name, and how did Kenny Ackerman acquire this piece of information? And for what purpose?

Luckily, she had the person, who, hopefully, could shed some light on this new mystery. Hange shoved the photo and the document in Ackerman’s hands, staring at him expectantly. “Do you know something about this?”

He didn’t answer right away, and that gave Hange a semblance of hope. Perhaps, it was just a misunderstanding? Perhaps, the photo and the birth certificate were put into one envelope by a trick of fate? And Krista Lenz was truly Krista Lenz? Hange certainly hoped so. It would save her so much trouble.

Ackerman’s eyes were narrowed as he studied the document. Hange watched him with bated breath.

Her world crumbled when he gave a little nod.

“I think I know where Kenny got it. Remember the robbery of that politician’s manor? Kenny stole this thing from the guy’s safe.”

Hange remembered that robbery, remembered that murdered man. But how could it possibly be connected to her recent case?

“How did you know where to find it? And why did your uncle need it in the first place? It makes no sense…”

“On the contrary,” Ackerman shook his head. “Now everything makes perfect sense. I couldn’t understand why Reiss asked us to rob that guy’s house, but now I’m starting to think that your missing girl…”

“Wait! Wait!” Hange silenced him with her palm on his mouth. She whirled around, starting to pace around the room. What he was saying just now? He didn’t mean it, right? At least, not in the way Hange comprehended it. It couldn’t be, she refused to believe it. But what if Ackerman was telling the truth? What if— Hange turned back to him, her eyes pleading for him to say it was an ill-timed joke. “What was that about Reiss? Did you mean Rod Reiss, the member of the parliament? That Reiss?”

“Naturally.”

Hange slowly sank into an armchair. Her head was spinning, her thoughts were going in circles. Rod Reiss, the model politician, the law abiding citizen was working directly with Ackermans. It seemed completely outlandish.

“Are you serious?” she asked quietly, to keep herself from shrieking. “Are you actually fucking serious?”

Ackerman shrugged, looking so nonchalant, a stark contrast to her frantic appearance. “Why would I lie about this?”

Why indeed… Logically, Hange knew there was no reason for him to lie about Reiss’ involvement, but, damn it, she just couldn’t wrap her head about this. Even the notion seemed utterly ridiculous, like it was taken from a dumb conspiracy theory.

“Just before I dropped your case…” Hange began, desperately trying to find a way to contradict Ackerman’s claim. “He wanted to help me solve it. He offered me money and people, anything to get you behind bars.”

And that meant that he wasn’t working with them, right? It meant that Reiss was actually a good guy, who wanted to fight the bad ones.

He’s a politician, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Erwin reminded her. You can’t get so high just from being good.

Despite her endless stubbornness, Hange couldn’t disagree with that. Those who held a lot of power didn’t acquire it from being honest and honorable.

Reiss claimed he wanted to catch Ackermans, but that desire could just be his attempt to cover up his traces.

Fuck.

Ackerman was right. Everything was starting to make sense.

“I guess Reiss wanted to get rid of us,” Ackerman confirmed her guess. Hange’s heart sank. “Maybe, that’s why Kenny didn’t return him this,” he showed her the birth certificate.

Hange felt another wave of nausea. If she correctly understood what Ackerman was implying…

“Are you saying that the missing girl…” she swallowed, reluctant to end that sentence. It would become more real then.

“Yes,” Ackerman nodded, his voice a little softer. Was it his attempt at giving her a bit of comfort? Did he simply pity her? “I think that your Krista Lenz is actually Historia. And that her father is Rod Reiss.”

Even before he spoke, Hange knew that Ackerman had reached that conclusion. Reluctantly, she was almost ready to agree with him. But… her inner world was practically in shambles. Rod Reiss, the good-willed, kind looking man with a gentle smile, was working with the criminals. He had a secret daughter.

She really couldn’t trust anyone, huh? She should have learnt this simple truth by now. Levi Ackerman did a great job of teaching that lesson to her, after all.

Hange dropped head into her hands, letting out a deep, bone-weary sigh. Couldn’t she have at least one simple, easy case? One that wouldn’t make her revalue all of her relationships and lose her faith in the humanity?

A case like that would have been real nice.

But instead she had a case that grew more complicated with each clue and a girl who was waiting to be rescued.

If nothing else, Hange couldn’t let Krista Lenz down. Or Historia, whichever name was the correct one.

“Hey listen…” a tentative touch to her shoulder and a gentle voice in her ear made Hange jump. She looked up and saw Ackerman, standing right next to her. He was… gods, he looked worried. Hange didn’t know if she should be amused or slighted. Just how pathetic she seemed just now, if Ackerman decided to comfort her? “I know it’s a lot to take in…”

Hange brushed his hand aside, abruptly jumping to her feet. Ackerman could take his pity and fuck himself with it. It was a lot to take in, but she was fine. She had taken it all in, she dealt with that mind-blowing revelation. Well, she didn’t really deal with it, but she took a pause in dealing with it. She’d finish the processing after this fucking day was over and she’d get drunk at some shitty bar. But now, she had work that needed her attention. And Hange was ready to begin.

“Give me that,” she snatched the birth certificate out of Ackerman’s hand, studying it intently. The graph with the father’s name wasn’t filled, but the mother’s name was there. Alma. There was no last name, but still, it was a start. Certainly not very promising, but Hange did more with less.

Alas, there was nothing interesting about the document except the name of the child’s mother. The child was born here, in their city, twenty two years ago. Krista Lenz was exactly twenty-two years old. A small detail that simply couldn’t be overlooked.

Next, Hange turned her attention to the photo. The picture showed adult Krista, and it was shot from distance, only her profile visible. Could it mean that someone was spying on her? If Krista was Historia, and a daughter of Rod Reiss, it made sense that he was keeping tabs on her. However…

Hange’s eyes widened, the realization swiftly settling.

The photo and the document, it didn’t come from Reiss. Reiss asked Ackermans to steal it for him, meaning…

“Do you think Reiss has enemies?” she asked Ackerman. “Do you think that someone wanted to expose him?”

“Perhaps,” Ackerman tentatively replied. His eyebrows furrowed, as he continued, rubbing his chin. “The guy that we killed… he wasn’t supposed to be at home that night. Reiss said he wasn’t going to be at home.”

“But he was.” Hange uttered, confused.

“He was,” Ackerman agreed. “And I think Reiss knew about it.”

“You think he tried to set you up?”

“Possibly. Or it was a pure coincidence and the guy just decided to return from the party earlier. Or…” he spread his arms, his point more than clear.

Closing eyes, Hange rubbed her temples. Possibly, Ackerman said. Well, she was definitely getting into something she shouldn’t. Secret children, Ackermans, nasty politicians… It was well above her paygrade.

But she couldn’t just give up. And, fortunately, she knew a place where they could find more information. If the person spying on Krista wasn’t Reiss, then it was someone who was actively trying to expose him. Someone who had died before he could reach his goal.

Hange still remembered that brief conversation she had with the politician’s widow, remembered her mentioning something about a girl that worked for her late husband. Perhaps, that girl was the one who took that photo of Krista. And if she found Krista once, perhaps, she’d help them to find her again.

The plan of action was prepared, and that was enough to calm Hange’s mind. At least, for a short while.

“We’re going to visit the politician’s house,” she announced to Ackerman. “His widow might know something.”

“You want to go to the house of the guy we robbed and killed? Awesome.”

Hange hummed, letting her eyes linger on Ackerman’s bored face. There was a question that’s been bugging her for a long time now, ever since she learnt about his true identity. They weren’t in a hurry yet, so she decided to take another moment to satisfy her curiosity. “That guy… were you the one who killed him?”

Ackerman stared back at her, his eyes surprisingly honest. “Would it make you feel better if I tell you that my uncle did it?”

Would it make her feel better to know that he was just a thief, and not a murderer? Maybe. Or, maybe not. Hange wasn’t sure what feeling this knowledge would provoke. These days, she wasn’t sure what to feel at all. The only feeling she was certain of was the exhaustion.

“Back at the museum…” perhaps, bringing this up was unreasonable. Perhaps, completely unnecessary. But she had been thinking about it, a lot. She had already formulated an explanation. Now she wanted to hear Ackerman’s reasoning, and see if the two versions were compatible in any way. “I know you weren’t the one who shot me, your uncle is much taller. When he raised that gun, he was aiming at my head, I could see it clearly,” she laughed, the sound too broken to be genuine. “I thought I was already done for, so why…”

“Why what, four-eyes?” Ackerman snapped. “Why did I stop him? Do you actually not know?”

Ackerman was staring right at her, his impassive mask slipping to reveal his anger and… frustration? Hange couldn’t clearly interpret the look in his eyes, not when she was so confused herself. She swallowed heavily, her heart pounding as she struggled to look away. Ackerman’s gaze… was burning.

“I wouldn’t have let Kenny kill you. I couldn’t bear the thought,” he said, his voice raw. He took a step towards her, and, subconsciously, Hange took a step away from him, her back now pressed against the wall. Despite their height difference, Levi seemed to loom over her, his eyes brimming with feeling. The feeling of… what? Hange didn’t know if she wished to know the answer. “Do you actually not understand why I did it?”

Ackerman was wrong. She did understand. She had him figured out, all thanks to dark, long and sleepless nights.

“You still needed me, right? That was your reason? I was still useful to you, that’s why—”

“Useful?”

Hange flinched at his tone. There was no protest there, no anger. His voice was thick with pain. Her eyes widened at the realization.

“What did I use you for, Hange?” he grabbed the lapels of her coat, roughly pulling her close to him. His breath was hot on her skin, and his fists were clenched so tightly she could almost hear the sound of the coat’s fabric ripping. “What did I ever use you for? Did I steal something from you? Did I get some piece of information out of you? You gave me the keys to your damn office, I held your shitty notebook in my hands, and did I use it?”

In the face of his outrage, Hange felt numb. She didn’t try to push him away, felt too weak to escape from him. She could only stare helplessly at him, feeling small and insignificant. Feeling like she had missed something vital, a central piece of the puzzle.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I didn’t check, perhaps you did take something—”

He breathed a curse into her face, his eyes a liquid fire. Just as suddenly as he had grabbed her, Levi let her go.

His back was now facing her, as he stared out of the window, his breathing loud and irregular.

“You can think whatever you want about me,” he said, deadly quiet. “You can think that I am a liar, a thief and a scumbag. But I didn’t use you Hange. It was never my intention. And if you really don’t know why I didn’t let you die, then you’re a shitty fucking detective. No wonder you couldn’t catch us.”

He stormed out of the room a second after, leaving Hange to stare incredulously after him.

His words, his touch, his eyes, it weighted down on her. They made it hard to breathe.

The places where Levi had touched her were burning, his words were still ringing in her ears and she couldn’t quite shake off the image of his eyes, his stare furious, but simultaneously hurt.

She was hoping to gain some clearance, hoping to deal with one of the many mysteries of her life. But now she was even more confused.

She took one deep breath after another, clutching at her chest. What the heck had just happened? What was Levi so worked about, what was he— it was another lie of his, another act, it had to be, Hange at last decided. What else it could be? Levi, no, Ackerman, he couldn’t really speak the truth just now? Because if that was the truth, then—

The loud bang of the closing door snapped Hange out of her reverie.

She was being naïve and foolish, again.

She was letting him get into her head, she was allowing him to fool her once more. But she wouldn’t let him do it, not after everything she had gone through.

She also couldn’t let him distract her from the case. Be her name Krista or Historia, but that girl needed to be saved. Hange had to save her.

And she wouldn’t be able to find her if she continued to stare numbly at the wall.

Hange shook her head, pushed the hair back from her face and fixed the lapels of her coat. She had no time for confusing feelings, she had to get back to work.

She was fully intent on doing that, until she remembered what had helped her get her focus back. The front door was thrown closed…

Hange shrieked, her hands flying to her head. Ackerman! He had escaped!

With a lightning speed, she rushed out of the room and out of the apartment. She took two stairs at the time, hurrying to get to the bottom of the stairwell. Her mind worked just as fast as her legs, as Hange tried to predict what direction Ackerman would take. Where would he go? Would she be able to find him? Should she even find him, after everything that just transpired?

By the time, she reached the exit of the apartment complex and tumbled out on a street, Hange was completely out of breath. She took a fleeting second, doubling over in an attempt to stop her lungs from burning out. Shit, she was getting too old for this kind of thing.

With her breathes still coming out way too rapidly, Hange slowly straightened out. Left or right? Which direction Ackerman would take? Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d catch him before he ran away.

But as Hange turned her gaze to her left, she was surprised to see that the escaped criminal… didn’t actually escape. He was standing right next to her, lazily smoking a cigarette.

“I thought you had a girl to save, detective?” he asked in a bored, indifferent voice.

Hange hated how good he was at concealing what was going on inside him. She was still shaking.

She also hated how attractive the damn bastard was, especially while smoking.

But Ackerman was right. There was a girl, and she needed to be saved.

Hange shrugged, adopting a more confident stance. She couldn’t let him know she was worried that he left. Or how handsome she thought he was. She had embarrassed herself plenty already.

So with a determined face, Hange lifted an arm, hailing a taxi.

There was no time for feelings. Not when there was work needed to be done.

***

The time they’ve spent in taxi was spent in silence.

Hange was looking out of the window, stubbornly refusing to even look in his direction. Levi himself was staring at his knees, lost to his own thoughts.

There was a lot he had to think about, the main focus, of course, was on Kenny and his involvement with Reiss and his new-found daughter.

Levi had kept a faint hope that when they got to their apartment, Kenny would be there, laying on a coach with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in another. Until the very end, he hoped that this whole ordeal with kidnapping and letters from Kenny the Reaper was a result of a weird coincidence.

Unfortunately, his hope was crushed without mercy.

Kenny wasn’t at home, and what’s more, the state of their apartment frightened Levi. Kenny wasn’t as obsessed with cleanliness as him, but he had never created such messes either. At least, it had never happened during all these years they’ve lived together. Was the mess caused by the fact that Levi had left? Or was Kenny truly going crazy?

If he decided to kidnap a girl, Reiss’ daughter, and then run off to god knows where, then he was definitely not quite right in his head.

But that wasn’t the only thing occupying Levi’s mind. Ashamed as he was to admit it, Kenny wasn’t in his thoughts nearly as often as was Hange.

Their fight back at his apartment was, for the lack of better word, a complete disaster. He made a mistake, he shouldn’t have lost his cool, he shouldn’t have admitted the things Hange didn’t have to know.

For fuck’s sake, he practically admitted that he was smitten with her. Worse yet, he almost admitted just how far he was willing to go not to hurt her. It was dangerous and it was foolish. Luckily, Hange wasn’t too interested in listening to what he had to say.

And still, the things that she had said hurt him. More than Levi was ready to admit.

She really lost all trust in him, didn’t she? Perhaps, this outcome was not at all surprising, but… painful nevertheless.

Levi stole a glance at Hange - she wasn’t looking back at him. So he allowed himself to admire her profile. Her bright, brown eyes, that hawkish nose, those enticing lips… He sighed, tearing his gaze away.

Coming here was certainly a mistake, he could have hid a little better, could have tried to run from Hange for the second time. He could have done so much more, could have at least attempted to not get caught in all of this.

Too late for any regrets now, he thought bitterly. Besides, it wasn’t like he had come here for Hange, right? He had to get Kenny out of whatever shit he had involved himself into this time.

Kenny, he was there for Kenny. For him and him only.

He had to repeat this to himself a couple of times more, because with Hange sitting so close to him, with their thighs slightly touching in the backseat of the taxi, it was hard to remember his main and initial goal. With Hange so close, it was getting hard to focus at all.

He had to think of something else.

Levi looked out of the window, watched the streets they passed by. They were getting close. Close to the house of the man he murdered.

Levi gulped. Perhaps, the idea to focus on something else wasn’t as sound as it seemed at first.

Another train of thought then. He turned to look at Hange again.

He couldn’t think about her, but there was the matter of their case. He could try and pay attention to it.

“You mentioned that the girl is missing for almost a week. Why are you the only one who’s working on finding her then? Aren’t these types of cases supposed to be…” he waved his hand around, gesturing uncertainly. “Especially time-sensitive?”

Hange sighed, showing just how stressed she truly was. “They usually are time-sensitive. But… thing is… no one actually cares if I solve this case or not.”

“Do you mean—”

“Yes. Krista, or, well,” she winced, “Historia, doesn’t have a family. She doesn’t seem to have any friends either. We received the tip about her disappearance from a fucking anonymous call. No one even noticed that she is gone. I talked with the students at her college, and some seemed sympathetic, some even mildly worried about her well-being, but no one actually cared about her. No one truly knew her too, at least, no one knew her well enough. As I asked about Krista, I got the same answer. She was kind, always ready to help. She was attentive and diligent during classes. And that world ‘was’,” Hange shook her head, her palms clenching into fists. “It seemed like everyone had already accepted that she was gone for good.”

Hange sounded so sad, so frustrated, Levi desperately wished to give her what little comfort that he could. He understood now, why she was so determined to find that missing girl and bring her home.

It was good to know that people like Hange existed. People, who would do their best to try and help someone else.

Levi could be that girl, he realized. If he went missing and Kenny wasn’t there to find him, no one would care to help him. If something like that ever happened to him, he could only hope to come across a person, who would be as selfless and kind as Hange.

If there were more people like her, perhaps, his life wouldn’t be so miserable. Perhaps, he’d be a different person.

But pondering on it was pointless now. He was who was he was. For the better or worse, Hange was who she was too.

“So no one is pushing you to hurry?” Levi glanced at her beneath his fridge. “Then what was that shit about? When you ran out of my apartment, red in face and panting like a dog?”

“Oi,” Hange slapped his knee. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” Levi raised his eyebrow, remembering their first conversation. “Aren’t we moving a little too fast?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, turning her face away. Just before she did, Levi saw the red on her cheeks.

Hange blushed. Hange, the hot-shot detective and a huge pain in the ass, had actually blushed after his stupid joke.

Well… now Levi had something to be proud of.

“I just thought—” she huffed, moving hair from her face. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, but… thanks for not running away. I… appreciate it. Looking for you would be a large inconvenience,” she gave him a side-glance, her lips twitching. “Thanks for not creating even more problems for me, I guess.”

And who said that Hange wasn’t a paragon of politeness? Levi almost felt good about himself. He almost thought that things between them were… not as disastrous as they actually were.

“We are almost there,” Hange announced, nervously tapping fingers against her thigh.

The bubble busted. There was no time to fool around. There was no time for playful banter and witty back and forth. There was no time to… appreciate that bright sparkle in Hange’s eyes.

Levi nodded, acknowledging her words, but remained speechless. What was there to say? He was going to the house that belonged to a man his uncle had killed right in front of his own eyes. And he was going there willingly. God, his life was just a string of one fucked up shitty event after another.

Hopefully, this visit would help him learn more about Kenny’s new job and, maybe, even find Kenny himself.

Hope… that’s all he had these days.

The taxi took a turn and drove up to the tall, black gates. Levi remembered climbing over it during that awful night two months ago.

This time, he wasn’t climbing over it.

Hange got out of the taxi, just as they approached the front gates. She spoke through the intercom, requesting entrance. After a long moment, the gates slowly opened and the taxi drove inside, bringing them to the large doors.

Front doors. Last time Levi was getting inside through the back door. Well, another improvement. Another sign that this visit, hopefully, wouldn’t end so horribly.

Hange paid the taxi driver and told him not to wait for them. Together they exited the car.

As they walked to the door, she leaned in to him and whispered, “It’d be best if you don’t tell the grieving widow that your uncle killer her husband.”

“I’m not an idiot, four-eyes.”

Hange chuckled and lifted her arms, palms-up. “I’m just saying. I don’t think she’s eager to meet us as it is.”

When the front door had finally opened, they were met by a butler. A fucking butler, dressed in a suit and tie and with glasses on his face. Levi stared at him, incredulously.

Killing people in general went against Levi’s principles, and killing the owner of this house in particular was obviously wrong, but stealing from him? Perhaps, he and Kenny should have also taken a few paintings.

“Good day,” Hange smiled – to Levi the expression seemed a little forced. “I’m detective Zoe and I wanted to—”

“I know,” the butler bowed his head, gesturing for them to follow him. “The Lady asked me to bring you to her office.”

The Lady? It took all of Levi’s willpower not to scoff. Rich people were ridiculous. That’s why he preferred to steal from them. Served those fuckers right.

The butler led them through a big, brightly lit hall, up the majestic stairwell, through a row of ugly paintings, and finally they stood before a brown oak door.

“The Lady is inside,” the butler said, taking a step back. “I’ll bring tea in just a few minutes. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Hange waved her hand, obviously not interested in his false politeness. She threw the door open, walking inside without waiting for the invitation. So that was detective Hange at work? Levi watched her, hiding his amused expression.

“Sorry that we didn’t give you a heads-up,” she spoke to the woman that was sitting behind a long, mahogany desk. Suddenly Levi realized it was the same room, where Kenny had killed a man. Suddenly he realized that he was staring at the face of a woman, who had lost a husband because of him and Kenny. Avoiding the widow’s gaze, he did his best to hide behind Hange. “But there’s something we wanted to discuss.”

“Did you find my husband’s killer?”

No, but I'm his nephew and I was there when your husband had died, Levi almost blurted out. But Hange had warned him. So he wisely kept his mouth shut.

“No,” Hange walked further inside, plopping down on a chair. Much more humbly, Levi did the same. “But we think your husband is related to our other case. So we were wondering if we can ask you a few questions?”

“Who are we?” the widow arched her perfectly thin eyebrow. “Last time we spoke, I didn’t remember you having an assistant.”

Hange’s smile became strained. “That’s, um, Levi,” she gestured at him. “My, well, he’s sort of my partner.”

“A partner, huh?”

“He helps me with the case,” Hange answered vaguely. “Now about our questions…”

The widow arrogantly waved her hand, allowing Hange to continue. “Just be quick about this. After my husband’s death, I have a lot of work on my hands.”

And all of it because of him and Kenny. Great. Levi sat lower in his seat.

“I remember you mentioning…” Hange took out her notebook, Levi cringed at the sight of it. As he watched her shift through it, he briefly wondered if that note he had left for her was still there. Did she tear it out, rip into pieces and then burn the rest? Or did she… leave it there, so she could stare at it whenever she felt especially angry? Levi wasn’t sure which option was more preferable and which one would make him feel more sad. Meanwhile, Hange continued, “A girl who visited your husband. Do you remember what she looked like? Can you describe her to us?”

The widow scrunched her nose, clearly displeased. She reached to the desk’s drawer, taking out a pack of cigarettes. She opened it, putting a cigarette in between her lips. “If you don’t mind,” she mumbled, flicking up a lighter. The widow took one long drag, letting the smoke curl up towards the ceiling. She lazily traced its movement, then, when the smoke had dissipated into nothing, she spoke, “I saw her only once, she was leaving our house late in the evening. It was dark and I didn’t get a good look on her face, but I remember that she was tall,” she squinted, looking at Hange. “Slightly taller than you. Had brown hair, gathered in a low ponytail. Her clothes were baggy, and, overall, she looked just like…”

“Like what?” Levi snappily required. “Like a criminal?”

“Well, yes,” the widow agreed, throwing the ash off her cigarette. “I think she was doing some shady work for my husband.”

“Do you by any chance have a way to contact her?” Hange asked. “A phone number or a home address…”

“And why do you need it?” the widow looked at them skeptically.

“Classified information,” Hange smoothly replied. “But it’s for the greater good, believe me.”

The widow huffed, obviously not buying it. But she put the cigarette down and reached for the drawer again.

“I don’t know if that will be of any help, but,” she rummaged through the drawer, taking out a yellow envelope. “I found this when I was looking through my husband’s things. He must have destroyed the letter that was inside it, but there is the sender’s address on the back, so…”

“Thank you for your time,” Hange spoke sincerely, snatching the envelope from the widow’s hands. “You really helped us. A lot. You might have even saved a young girl’s life.”

“Whatever,” the widow rolled her eyes. “Just get out of here already. I have the work I need to do.”

“Thank you,” Hange repeated, rising to her feet. “Have a nice day.”

“And…” the widow hesitated. “Good luck with your case. I hope you do better this time.”

The smile on Hange’s face faltered, but didn’t disappear. “I’ll do my best,” she promised, before walking out of the room.

Throwing a quick last glance at the widow, Levi dutifully followed.

***

The address on the envelope led them to the worst part of their city. To the streets that were filled with garbage, where the walls had paint falling off and most windows stood completely smashed.

Hange in her fancy light brown coat looked starkly out of place. Perhaps, Ackerman was right about her having too much privilege. Right now, the contrast between her and the more unfortunate ones were sharp as ever. Although, Ackerman’s attire wasn’t that humble either.

Hange stepped a little closer to him, in a futile attempt to hide from the unfriendly gazes that followed after her ever since they stepped into this part of the city.

“I’m surprised you’ve agreed to come here,” she spoke to him in a quiet voice, “Since I know how much of a clean freak you are.”

The look Ackerman gave her could probably freeze someone to death. “I wasn’t always living in a nice and neat apartment, four-eyes. People like me usually come from the places like that.”

Hange’s eyes widened at the realization. She glanced at the man beside her, tilted her head to study him more intently. It was hard to imagine sharp-dressed and clean-shaved Ackerman, or younger Levi living in a place like that, walking through the dirty streets with broken windows. He came a long way, it seemed. Hange was amazed at his perseverance.

“I think this is the right house,” she pointed at the grey four-story building. Hange took out the envelope, checked the address again. “Yes, this is it.”

Wordlessly, Ackerman started walking in that direction. Hange caught him just before he pushed the front door open.

“Shouldn’t we, like, knock?” she asked, doing a poor job at hiding her nervousness.

Ackerman just rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot,” he scolded, adding a quiet ‘tch’. “There are several apartments here. You’re not trespassing on someone’s private property yet.”

“Oh, alright,” Hange mumbled, letting him open the door and following him inside.

The inside of the building… was dirty. There were bags of trash lying around, shards of broken glass and half-shattered empty bottles. The house wasn’t silent too, from somewhere deep inside the building a child’s wailing was heard. It was accompanied by the sounds of a fighting. Or, maybe, extremely passionate love-making. Hange desperately hoped it was the latter.

“We need to go to the basement,” she said to Ackerman, trying her best to sound nonchalant and confident.

“Basement?” he repeated incredulously. “Is the address actually pointing to a basement? Are we looking for a vampire?”

“I don’t know who we’re looking for. But here,” she thrusted the envelope to him. “You can check it for yourself.”

He pushed her hand away. “I’ll trust you on that one.”

They made their way down the stairs in silence. Not wanting to see something that wasn’t meant for the police officer’s eyes, Hange kept her gaze focused on Ackerman’s face. Unsurprisingly, his expression was indifferent. But his breaths were coming out more raged than usual and he was walking with his head bowed low.

Compared to his regular level of emotionlessness, Ackerman seemed almost overly distressed.

Was this place affecting him so much? He had hinted at his not so happy childhood before. Were bad memories the reason for his emotional state right now?

Hange placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Ackerman, listen…”

Roughly, he slapped her hand away. “I’m fine, four-eyes. Focus on the task at hand.”

She stared at him, affronted. Here she was trying to— what was she trying to do? To comfort him? Because she was worried about him? Hange conceded. Perhaps, Ackerman had every right to scold her. She was losing her focus. She couldn’t allow herself that.

As they climbed to the end of the stairs, Hange looked around, searching for an apartment 009. It stood just at the end of the hallway, and without hesitation she marched right there.

She knocked, quite forcefully. And received no answer. She huffed, ignoring Ackerman’s amused gaze, and knocked again. Again, there was no answer.

Hange put her ear closer to the door, listening to any signs of life inside. There was… nothing.

“I think no one is at home,” she announced mournfully to Ackerman. “Perhaps, we can come back later…”

“Or we can stop wasting precious time,” he rolled his eyes. “Move your ass, four-eyes, I’ll get us inside.”

Ackerman went down on his knees before the door, searching for something in the pocket of his jacket.

It took Hange a long moment to realize what he was about to do. As soon as that realization kicked in, however, she rushed to pull Ackerman away from that door.

“What are you doing?” she cried out. “Ackerman, it’s illegal!”

He gave her a pointed look. “I’m a criminal, remember?”

“I’m not! I can’t let you break inside someone’s house, I’m a police officer!”

“And can you let a young girl suffer? My uncle is an impatient man, if she pissed him off…”

“Don’t joke about it!” Hange scolded. Fuck, she didn’t know what to do. On one hand, she couldn’t let Ackerman just break into someone’s house. On the other, she couldn’t really waste any more time.

“You can look the other way, four-eyes,” Ackerman proposed, his voice an octave softer. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Damn it, Hange couldn’t believe what she was about to do. Ackerman and his damn influence, if Erwin ever finds out…

She sighed, surrendering, and turned away from that door. “Do your thing already,” she urged. “I’ll be… on a look-out. Or whatever you people say.”

“You people?” he repeated teasingly. “What kind of people?”

Hange could practically hear the laughter in his voice. Well, at least, someone was enjoying himself.

“Criminals,” she gritted.

“Just don’t forget that it’s a nasty criminal,” he said, “That helps you solve this case.”

Gods, what a fucker. But he was right. He was helping her. For his own reasons, sure, but even so, Hange was working with him for merely a day, and already she accomplished so much. Perhaps, after all of that mess was over, she could even thank him.

If he wouldn’t give her another reason to hate him.

Ackerman dealt with the door just in mere seconds. Hange didn’t know that it was possible to break the locks so swiftly. He surely was talented.

“Wow, you really are good at it,” she marveled under her breath.

“Figures why you couldn’t catch us, eh?”

So he was not only a fucker, but a cocky one as well. Hange shouldn’t have found that trait of his attractive. He lied to her, for god’s sake. But she had to admit – he looked damn good while doing it.

Ackerman opened the door and let Hange go in first. She did, a bit precautiously.

The first thing she noticed was, of course, the absence of the light. Outside the afternoon sun was shining brightly, painting everything in warm orange colors, but here, in the basement, it was dark as ever. Distinctively, Hange could hear the sound of the pipes leaking, the steady drop, drop, drop that set her just a little further up on edge.

She blindly searched for the switch on the wall. As soon as she had found it, a lone lightbulb filled the room with faint light.

Apart from that, the interior of the apartment wasn’t so different from the interior of the whole building. It was in similar bad shape, with torn wallpapers and leaking ceilings. But, surprisingly, the apartment also seemed strangely empty, like whoever was living there didn’t actually consider it their home.

As Hange looked around, she found nothing personal there, no photographs or postcards or any other kind of trinkets people usually treasured.

There were some clothes thrown here and there, but that was about it. The rest of the apartment was disappointingly empty.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to find something here,” Ackerman said, as he walked inside beside her.

Truthfully, Hange was of the same opinion. But they came here. They broke inside. She wouldn’t leave until she finds at least something remotely useful.

“Let’s look around,” she said, deciding to start with the kitchen.

Unfortunately, there was nothing useful in the kitchen. The only thing Hange found was the insane amount of instant noodles and cheap beer.

No clues were found inside the living room as well. She looked under the dusty old couch and the rug, behind the shattered TV-screen and the wardrobe. But she found nothing.

Met with the absence of the clues and Ackerman’s increasing impatience, Hange was starting to get desperate.

“We’ll find something,” she murmured, to assure both Ackerman and herself.

He simply clicked his tongue. “I searched the bedroom already. I didn’t find anything that might be of some interest.”

“I’ll go and have another look,” Hange stubbornly pushed past him. “Perhaps, you missed something.”

“Or, perhaps,” he countered, his voice laced with venom. “This lead is a dead-end. And we’re just wasting our time.”

“Need I to remind you that this is the only lead we have? Because you’re unable to find your own uncle.”

Hange knew she had said the wrong thing as soon as the words had left her mouth. She didn’t mean it, not really. But she was frustrated. She was tired and lost, and Ackerman’s proximity and their shared history were making her even more stressed than she already was.

But all of it didn’t mean that Ackerman deserved her bitterness. Not in this moment, at least. Hange knew she was in the wrong, she wanted to take her words back, but then— then Ackerman decided to retaliate.

“And need I to remind you that the only reason I’m here is because you can’t solve this shitty case all by yourself. So stop accusing me of being useless when I’m helping you out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Out of the kindness of your heart?” Hange repeated, completely scandalized. She couldn’t believe that she was meaning to apologize to that shithead just moments ago. And he had the audacity— Gods, he infuriated her to no end. “You’re a fucking asshole, Ackerman. When you were lying to me like a total scumbag, were you doing it out of the kindness of your fucking heart as well?”

Ackerman was getting riled up to, his face became contorted with faint lines of anger. His hands clenched into fists, he took a step forward, breathing heavily. “Are you still going on about that thing, really? Yes, I lied to you, but I’m sure I’m not the only person in this life who did it. So can you just let it go already?”

“Let it go?” Hange felt like she was boiling, there was so much fury inside of her that it seemed like it was pouring out of her. She wanted to smash or break something, preferably Ackerman’s stupidly handsome face. “Are you seriously asking if I can let it go? Do you really not understand how much—” she faltered, choking on the hurricane of her emotions. “I trusted you, Levi, I believed you were a good man. For god’s sake, I was starting to develop f—”

Hange abruptly stopped herself. She was angry, true, she was overwhelmed as well. But she was not so lost as to reveal to him just what he truly made her feel. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how good his lies were and how much they’ve hurt her.

After taking a deep breath, she risked a glance at Ackerman. He was staring right at her, wide-eyed and shocked and… was that sadness in his eyes?

Before Hange could decipher his expression, it changed again, became more cautious.

She blinked, and Ackerman was already moving, rapidly, in her direction. All out of sudden, he was standing right beside her, close enough for Hange to hear just how loudly his heart was beating.

Confused, she wanted to push him away, she meant to do it, but before she could react, Ackerman had her encircled in his arms. He pulled her to the side, and just as Hange was trying to get away, they swayed and tumbled. In a mess of limbs, both of them fell onto the ground.

No more than a second later, Hange heard a loud, sudden noise.

A noise she knew so well. A gunshot.

Confused and with her ears ringing, Hange tried to make sense of her surroundings. There was a gunshot, and she fell but she wasn’t on a ground. Ackerman was on the ground, and she was lying right on top of him. Hange stared at him, wide-eyed and shaken.

Their sudden close proximity made her thoughts move even slower.

Still in Ackerman’s embrace, she turned her head in the direction, where that gunshot had come from. A girl stood there, her gun raised and aimed at them.

How long had she been standing there? How in the world Hange hadn’t seen her enter?

The reason for her lack of caution was still beside her, holding her tightly to his chest.

It felt good to be so close to him, Hange felt so warm and safe—

“Get the fuck off me,” feeling her face burn, she pushed Ackerman away, and jumped up to her feet.

“That’s the thanks I get for saving your life,” he grumbled, standing up as well and dusting off his jacket. “And I did it for the second time, four-eyes.”

“Shut up,” Hange gritted, returning her attention to the girl who almost shot them both. She was tall and brown-haired. Could it be their mysterious lead?

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt… whatever that was,” for a second the girl’s lips curled in a wicked smirk, but then she gripped the gun in her hands tighter, her finger going to the trigger. “But who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?”

Still slightly shaking from the whole ordeal, Hange’s fingers trembled as she took out her police badge, showing it to the girl. “I’m detective Hange Zoe, and I came to ask you some questions.”

The hand that held the gun didn’t lower. “Regarding?” the girl asked.

“Regarding Krista Lenz’s disappearance.”

The girl relaxed. The gun was tucked safely inside her leather jacket. “So the police have finally taken notice of that case? Took you long enough.”

“I’m hoping to rectify that mistake. And I hope I’ll be able to bring Krista home. What is your name?” Hange smiled and tentatively offered her hand for the girl to shake.

“Ymir,” just as cautiously, she shook Hange’s hand. “And Krista isn’t her real name, you know?”

“She is Historia, right?” the smile on Hange’s face widened, as she saw Ymir’s genuine surprise. “We found that bit of information already.”

“Seems like you’re a real deal then,” Ymir concluded with a nod. “I’ll share what I know with you. But,” she raised a finger. “I have a condition – you’ll let me join the investigation.”

Their crew was rapidly growing, and two-thirds were presented by criminals, Hange thought grimly. Well, she was ready to do anything to bring Historia home. It seemed like she would have to stick to her own promise.

Just when Hange was ready to accept Ymir and her proposition, Ackerman took a step forwards. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he glared at their new companion.

“And what guarantee we have that we can trust you?”

“You have no guarantee,” Ymir replied, staring down at him. “But as long as our goals align and as long as you promise not to hurt Historia, I promise not to betray you.”

Ah, so their crew was rapidly growing and they couldn’t really trust each other. A recipe for a horrible disaster, but… Hange had no other options.

She clasped Ymir’s shoulder, giving her the most convincing of her smiles. “Welcome aboard then. What have you managed to find out?”

Ymir grinned and turned around, gesturing for them to follow. “Probably much more than you did. Come with me, I’ll show it to you.”

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

prussia x reader: silly squabbles

Hello, lovelies~ I was plagued by images of this dumbass and his general ridiculousness, so of course I had to write it all out. This fic is pointless, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

"You are really annoying."

"And yet, somehow, I'm not detecting any real annoyance. Wonder why?"

His words hung lightly in the air, gentle and playful, just shy of taunting.

You did your best to ignore them, trying to focus on your book. But his fingers were moving again, trailing over your back in an inconsistent pattern, heavy enough a presence to register, yet just light enough to torment.

You were sure, in some long-winded, ridiculous, roundabout way, he would blame you for this predicament- for not reading as fast as him, for not paying him enough attention during a lazy day in.

Regardless, you tried to focus on the passage at hand, rereading the same paragraph for the tenth time now as he teased a particularly sensitive spot near your ribs.

He wasn't quite tickling you- not yet- but the shifting tempo and pressure all played upon the obvious threat.

Only mildly irritated- really, you were too familiar with his shenanigans by now to ever be truly annoyed- your focus landed on the bookcase, the only immediate target for your long-suffering gaze. "Do you mind?"

There was a hint of pride in his voice as he answered, a cockiness at successfully distracting you. "Nope!"

His fingers- now having tasked themselves with massaging more than teasing- paused between your shoulder blades. "Why? Do you?"

Rather than allow him another victory, you huffed quietly, pointedly making an effort to lose yourself once more in your book. "No... Not at all."

If he was amused by your answer practically being ground between your teeth, he made no indication of it. Instead, he resumed his massage, keeping his palm mostly flat against your spine, adopting a steady rhythm that lulled you into some semblance of security.

You allowed yourself to relax, turning your attention fully to your tale, praying he would at least let you finish this chapter in relative peace.

It was a hope to be short-lived alas, his posture shifting, bringing him near enough to read over your shoulder.

You were far too invested to truly pay him any mind, but then he was hovering near your temple, fingers drifting ever closer to your neck, once more dancing in that maddeningly light way which he employed solely in effort to agitate you.

You knew what he was doing, and you'd be damned if you'd let him win; summoning every ounce of self-restraint within you, you purposely, blatantly, chose to ignore him.

It took only a few moments for him to acknowledge your determination towards defiance (a few torturous moments where he had started tracing his nails against your hairline and whispered some of the passage aloud), his huff of displeasure bring you a small taste of sweet, sweet victory.

You would have been naive to think he had given up, knew it would be foolish to assume, to dare to presume, that he didn't already have other strategies in mind.

What you couldn't guess, regretfully, was exactly which plan he would attempt next.

When he sat upright once more, leaving you to lounge peacefully on your stomach, you unwisely surmised that he was actually finished with the whole affair, that he'd grown bored, that he would actually leave you to your novel in peace.

Feeling him shift back to the head of the bed, hearing him tapping away at his phone- these factors allied with his distance away from you all allayed your worries, letting you escape once more to the realm belonging to the pages before you.

The temporary tranquility was somehow less than simply fleeting; it had scarcely existed at all.

Not even five minutes had passed, and you felt teasing fingers once more, now grazing ever-so-softly against the bare skin of your ankle.

A jolt of panic fueled your reflexive movement away from him, your legs kicking, book falling to the floor in your surprise.

You shot upright and fixed him with a glare, hoping to convey just how furious you were with him. "I swear to God-!"

The villainous grin on his face revealed vanity in its purest form, and it did nothing to reduce your resentment.

Scowling now, and forcing yourself into an upright position, you narrowed your eyes at him. "What do you want, asshole?"

He was quiet for a moment, by all appearances still savoring his triumph. But then his smile shifted, the self-satisfied smirk falling slowly into something softer, fonder.

It took you by surprise, sent a stutter through your pulse, all irritation rapidly transitioning into confusion. "What?"

He shifted forward, leg bending beneath him as he drew closer.

Suspicious, but not too concerned, you offered an unimpressed expression, relaying your distrust. "Gil?"

There was a flicker to his smile, but it was soon replaced by something far more serious, his eyes languidly studying your features.

Briefly, more a passing fancy, you considered teasing him for his sudden quiet, yet there was something too tremulous tormenting him, and you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, instead offering your concern. “Teuton?”

Whatever spell that had held him within its grasp was finally dismissed, his head cocking to the side and a considering tone coating his next words. “You love me, right?”

It sounded innocent enough, and his behavior certainly suggested no ill-intent. But you knew him, and knew all-too-well not to fully believe in it. “Is that a trick question?”

You made sure to keep your words only just on the side of playful, but tempered with enough sincerity to assuage any possible self-doubts that may be afflicting him.

It was clearly the right approach, the left corner of his mouth only just hinting at a smile, a familiar spark almost tangible in the air. “It’s a simple question, Liebling. No need to sound so suspicious!”

You felt your eyes narrow as you studied him, his wording only heightening your wariness. “You know- The fact you feel you have to say so really isn’t winning you any points here.”

His grin was back at that, disorienting in its intensity, just enough that you nearly forgot his previous grimness. “I’m just asking if you love me, mein Schatz. ‘Snot like I’m asking you to sell me your immortal soul or something.”

You neglected to point out how those two things were near one and the same, instead choosing to offer a faux sincerity. “Oh no, you’re right. I hate you so much,” you quipped, each syllable oversaturated in sarcasm.

He scoffed, melodramatically pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning down just long enough to rescue your book from the floor, marking your page and setting beside you on the comforter. “I’m sure your pride will be just fine."

“I dunno…” His words trailed off, and you could make out the distinct, irritating sound of him sucking on his teeth. “I think it may be mortal this time.”

You decided to play along, content to lose yourself in the absurdity. “Oh no,” came your reply, emotionless a tone as you could muster, in spite of the smile playing on your lips. “How could I possibly live with myself?”

He hummed, running a finger over his chin as if he were seriously considering it. “You’d probably take my fortune, settle somewhere warm.”

You fought a laugh, unsuccessfully. “Mm, definitely. Have sordid affairs with all the cabana boys and the waitresses.”

“Sing drunken renditions of Mamma Mia during karaoke night.”

“And I’ll adopt some ugly, exotic pet that I insist travels with me everywhere.”

“Only after your third husband disappears after mysterious circumstances, of course.”

He was only half-serious, and you couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow in mock offense. “Only three?”

Your question made him snicker, his eyes shining in amusement, but he didn’t continue the exchange.

Several moments passed, and with them the lingering ridiculousness of the “argument” faded away. There were many of these odd backs-and-forths, all somehow sillier than the last. The quiet was just as pleasant though, and you embraced the comfort it carried.

That was, until, he was biting his lip in thought, his amusement long abandoned.

Concerned, you shifted closer, studying his features carefully. "Gil?"

His eyes were glued to some distant place you couldn’t see, miles and centuries away from the here and now. “You do love me, right?”

“Of course,” you replied almost reflexively, still taken aback by the sudden shift back to solemnity.

“Really?” His eyes turned to yours once more, unguarded, open, a haunting fragility shining in them that made your heart clench inside your chest.

Wherever this insecurity came from, you wished you could rid him of it, tear all traces of it from his psyche, make it so he would never question his self-worth ever again.

As it was, you did what you could, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to his ring, meeting his gaze as you lingered against the silver. “Would you be wearing this if I didn’t?”

There was a smile, the one you fell in love with: fond, slightly shy, just a little cocky. “Good point.”

You couldn’t help but feel as if something was still off about him however, something bothering him that you couldn’t even hope to guess. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

He took to studying your features again, his free hand rising to trace his fingers softly against your cheek. His eyes were warm and gentle, posture completely at ease. His words however-

“Sometimes I can’t believe this is real, or how lucky I am; some days I swear you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

His words carried an almost unbearable amount of loneliness, layered among disbelief and adoration. They triggered several different emotions within you, stirring them into a frenzied muss of affection and sadness, leaving you breathless.

Several potential reactions came to mind, but were all dismissed as you weighed his words, compared them to the relaxation of his shoulders, the familiarity as he languidly brushed his fingertips behind your ear, lightly teasing your scalp.

You could easily surrender to it, could already feel your own posture relaxing with each steady shift of his fingers. Still, you weren’t quite ready to abandon your prior playfulness, offering a haughty hum to prelude your reply.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m very real.” You felt a passing smirk flicker to life for a moment, blazing brightly before it was gone again, sober sincerity settling once more in its place. “You’re stuck with me, Beilschmidt. Forever…” you finished in an elongated stage whisper.

He breathed a laugh, the slightest hiss, his grin irrepressible now. His tone, however, mimicked nonchalance. “Eh. There are worse things, I guess.”

The tease was impossible to ignore, especially as that all-too-familiar deviousness was taunting in its own right.

You tried to keep your words accusatory, but they came out entirely too fond. “You’re a dick.”

He smirked, offering a half-hearted shrug.

“Guilty,” he sang, almost entirely too proud.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he was cradling both of your cheeks, and before you could guess at his next move, he was shifting forward, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But I’m a dick who loves you very much.”

Thanks for reading!

[mrsalwayswrite]

Aes Sídhe (Finan x Reader) Part 1

This is my first time writing for The Last Kingdom fandom! I have adored the show since it came out but have always been too nervous to try and write for it. This idea came to mind though and would not leave me alone...so here it is.

Can be read as reader or OFC since there is no real description given. 

I want to thank @geekandbooknerd​ and @medievalfangirl​ for your own amazing Finan writings. I am slightly embarrassed how many times I have gone back and reread them.  

In regards to the title: from my understanding (granted I could be very wrong), an aes sídhe is an Irish term for a supernatural race in Irish and Scottish mythology, similar to fairies and elves.

Warnings: None

Words:2k

PART 2

Finan rose from his spot near the campfire. The sun had not yet set but Uhtred decided to make camp early. Not that Finan was complaining. They had been riding hard for days, heading back to Wintanceaster with news for King Alfred. 

 "Where are you off to?"

 Finan glanced over at Osferth, who was laying on his side across from the campfire. "I'm going to wash my hands."

 "You'll need to wash more than your hands to not smell like a pig sty." 

 "Oi! What was that, baby monk?" Finan tossed his blanket at the lad, the others around the fire smiling. "Do not lament my absence too much!" He started walking towards the nearby creek, away from their campsite. 

 "What would we miss? Life is quieter without you."

 "I HEARD THAT, SIHTRIC!" 

The sound of laughter followed the Irishman as he carefully made his way down the steep bank to the creek. Only a few paces of rocky sand separated the creek from the steep bank, which surrounded and kept the creek easily hidden. The last of the sunlight peeked through the trees all around. The forest was quiet, the only noises were the bubbling creek and the distant sound of those still around the campfire. 

 They had decided to camp above and some paces from the creek. It would have been impossible to maneuver the horses down the steep banks and being camped above allowed them to stand watch unencumbered. The only downfall was having to carry water up for the horses. Yet having watched Osferth douse himself when he tripped was worth it. The memory still made Finan chuckle. 

 Dropping down the last part of the steep bank, he moved to the edge of the creek. The small rocks and sand gave way under his boots. He splashed the cool water over his face and hands then took a moment to watch the droplets fall from his beard back into the creek. If the water had been deeper, he would have stripped down to fully cleanse himself. Alas, it was too shallow but even just cleaning what he could felt refreshing from the dust and sweat of the road.  

 With a sigh, he allowed the memories he venomously ignored to come forth. This place, the creek bed and the trees, the stillness and the sunlight...it reminded him of a favorite spot from his childhood. Where his brother and himself would sneak away to go looking for faerie mounds or kelpies, much to their mother's dismay. A lighter time. An easier time...before betrayal. 

 Harshly, he shoved the memories back and closed the lid on them. It did no good to think about them. He was here now. He was happy here. Uhtred was a brother he was bonded to and would readily give his life for. Sihtric and even Osferth were like younger brothers he looked out for. Clapa was a good friend. It was better he was here. 

 A soft plop in the water made him look up. He knew it was most likely an animal coming to drink or a rock sliding to cause the sound but long years of being a warrior and always on alert forced him to constantly be aware of his surroundings. 

 What he saw forcibly drew the breath from his lungs in a gasp. 

 A woman knelt on a large stone, several paces away and across the creek from him. With one hand dipped in the water making slow circles, she watched the ripples as if lost in thought. Her hair was draped over one shoulder, a yellow kingcup flower tucked behind her ear. With her face exposed, her ethereal beauty was on full display for him to bare witness to. There was nothing about her that would not cause the darkest envy in other women and the strongest lust in all men. She was beauty incarnate. A creature not of this world. 

 He was unable to remove his eyes, nor move or call out, spellbound to only her. 

 Suddenly she looked up and locked eyes with him. A noose around his neck would have had less of a binding hold on him. Her eyes both pierced and soothed his soul. Her very being a vision that summoned him as a man possessed. Yet he could not move nor break her enchantment. They stared at one another; eyes locked from across the creek. 

 Ever so slowly she stood up and it was only then he took into account what she was wearing. A thin, white shift covered her, but with the fading sunlight behind her, it was almost transparent. Her outline and curves caressed by the fabric, an enticement and illusion. Never had he witnessed a woman more perfect. 

 "Are...are you alright, my lady?" His words broke the spell, his tongue finally recalled how to function. But as soon as the words were released, he would have given anything to return them. 

 After one slow blink of those captivating eyes, she fled. Moving as silently and quickly as a shadow, she jumped off the rock and hurried away on the other side of the creek. Neither rocks nor sticks hindered her bare feet. 

 "Wait!" He cried out, stumbling over himself as he gave chase. He ran opposite of her, trying to keep her in his sights lest she vanish and he awaken from this dream. 

 She followed a bend in the creek, darting between two trees that stood sentry on the edge. Uncaring of his clothing, he darted across the creek, the water only reaching mid-calf.  When he crossed over and rounded the bend, desperate for a glimpse of her, only the tranquil sight of the forest and creek lay before him. His eyes scoured everywhere, trying to catch a glimpse of her. There were no footprints his trained eyes could see, no markings that anyone had passed by. He scratched the back of his neck as he turned around once again, hoping he had missed something. 

 Yet there was nothing. She had vanished. 

 With a reluctant sigh, he turned to head back to camp. He had been gone long enough the others would question him. A bright spot of color amongst the dull colors of the rocks caught his eye. Moving closer he found a small bush of the kingcup flowers. Gently he stroked one of the many flowers' petals, remembering how they looked in her hair. On a whim, he plucked three and walked back to the stone she had knelt on. 

 "For you, aes sídhe." He whispered laying them down reverently. The bright yellow stood out on the gray stone, like the sun shining through on a cloudy day. 

 Looking around him once more, he crossed the creek and headed back towards camp. The further he walked, the more he began to question what he saw. A pinch to the arm proved he was not dreaming. Could it have been some kind of vision? He doubted that. He was not holy enough nor had enough drink to induce one. 

 "There he is!"

 "Thought you had finally drown."

 Finan threw himself on the ground next to his pack, ignoring the teasing of Osferth and Sihtric. He rubbed a hand over his beard and stared at the sky as the first few stars appeared in the sky. He could not get the image of her out of his head. So beautiful and pure. 

 A tickling in his ear brought his attention back to the present. He swatted at his ear and looked over to discover Uhtred next to him, a long blade of grass in hand and hovering over his head. 

 "What is bothering you?"

 Finan sat up, his arms over his knees. "Aes sídhe."

 "What?"

 "Nothin'. Thought I had seen somethin' at the water."

 Uhtred's brows furrowed slightly, trying to decipher his friend's meaning. "Well while you think, you have first watch. We drew straws earlier and you lost." He slapped Finan on the back. 

 "Sihtric rigged it."

 "Lies!" Sihtric threw a clump of dirt at a chuckling Osferth. "It was Fate that chose."

 "Why are you always throwing stuff at me?" Osferth whined, wiping the dirt mark off his robes. 

 "You deserve it."

 Uhtred spoke. "It would seem we need to work on your reflexes."

 "Yes, lord." Osferth sighed, eyes downcast. 

 "Don't worry, baby monk, I know what will help. We will take turns throwing knives at you. Eventually you'll dodge them."

 Osferth groaned. 

 With a clap on Uhtred's shoulder, Finan got up to settle against a tree nearby that offered a better spot for watching the camp and its surroundings. In truth he did not mind being on first watch tonight. With memories of her, clinging to him like summer's heat, he knew sleep would elude him. He tried to push the thoughts of her aside but to no avail. In truth he doubted he would ever be able to forget her. 

 ***

 The next morning, a rough kick to his back woke him. He groaned, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes as he sat up. 

 "I never thought you one for flowers, Finan." Sihtric said, walking to the other side of the camp. 

 "What?"

 Osferth piped up, head swiveling, looking from Finan to Sihtric. "Or perhaps it is from a special lady?"

 "What lady is around here besides the horses?" Sihtric snorted. 

 "Maybe it is a horse?"

 "What are ya fools talkin' about?" Finan eyed the smirks on the faces of those around him. His mind refused to fully abandon the land of dreams. There had been something... something on the edge of his consciousness but he could not recall it now. 

 "Behind you." Uhtred nodded towards Finan's pack. 

 Unsure, he looked to his pack on his other side…and froze. The kingcup flowers lay next to where his head had just been, but this time, a thin white strip of fabric bound the flowers together. Hesitantly he reached out and touched the flowers then fabric, in awe when he could feel their texture beneath his fingers.

 She was not a dream or vision. 

 Without warning he rose to his feet and scanned around him. He ignored the confused looks of his companions. Only on a second scan did he glimpse something. On further inspection, it was the slightest indent of footprints amongst the grasses. It was too small to be any of Uhtred's men. Plus, the blades were barely bent by whose feet stepped on them, they would have been easy to miss. 

 "Finan?"

 He realized he looked like a madman, first startled by flowers and searching for a sign around them. He stood up, arms crossed when he turned back. "Yes, lord?"

 "Something amiss?"

 He wondered if he should tell them. Their camp had been infiltrated and no one knew it. Yet as he opened his mouth, the words died on his tongue. 

 "No, I just...it must have been a dream."

 "If you say." The Dane-Slayer did not look like he fully believed his friend but would let it go this time. "We leave soon."

 Ignoring those around him, he knelt in front of his pack. Memories of her, still so sharp even after sleep, came forth unaided. He gently touched the white strip of cloth, reminiscent of her thin shift. Had she torn the strip from it?  Before the others could notice, he stuck the flowers in his pack and the cloth up his arm-guard.  

 He looked one last time towards the creek. "Go dtí go mbuailfimid le chéile arís, mo aes sídhe." (Until we meet again, my aes sídhe.)

 "WE RIDE!" Uhtred called then sent his horse into a canter, his men following him loyally. 

 Finan could not help one last glance over his shoulder. If he thought he caught a glimpse of a white shift and a form peeking out from between the trees, he could not prove it. He turned back to following the others. In his mind he prayed that this would not be the last time he saw her. 

[gingerwritess]

i just reread the library fic and wow i need another fic set in asgard !! i just love the idea of loki being completely in his element and dressing in his traditional royal clothes and being a prince and all that :))

oh this is so long but OH I LOVE IT SO

ok we’ve got some…prince Loki, fiance Loki, BLUSHING LOKI, and mentions of drinking and bars (and very little proofing) ok enjoy!!

―   ―   ―   ―

You’ve yet to fully grasp the fact that you and Jane Foster are making Asgardian history.

Just think of the scandal of it all: the princes of the realm of the gods, probably the most wanted husbands in all the realms, who’ve been in many a wanting eye through their years…

And they both picked humans.

Migardians, from the “gods are sent here when they’re grounded” realm, the universe’s middle child—the one the gods until recently didn’t mind to just ignore.

You’re sure the All-parents are thrilled. Between the first time you met Odin through now, his smiles remain strained, and you can’t exactly miss the multitude of pointed, stern looks that Queen Frigga throws his way.

All that aside, it’s still you, the mortal, who’s lounging in her own private bathing chambers of the palace, an old book reading “Courtship: Aesir Tradition” in hand.

The room is bigger than should be considered appropriate, the tub itself rivaling even the nicest swimming pools you’ve ever seen. Rows upon rows of faucets fill the in-ground tub with streams of water that the chambermaid had informed you will hold their temperature over time, and the sweet-smelling bubbles that lay atop the water float through the air to fill the entire chamber with the scent of dark roses and enchantment.

A bubble bath in the land of the gods. One doesn’t exactly say no.

Choosing which soap to use may have been the biggest struggle you’ve had to date—one of the ornate mirrors on the stone walls had opened to reveal probably a hundred differently coloured glass vials, each with a small rune scratched into the front.

The first vial you’d uncorked smelled distinctly like burnt marshmallows, and you’d quickly tucked it back onto the shelf.

Sickeningly sugary, it might not be the best idea to tempt Loki’s ridiculous sweet tooth with yourself during your stay.

Frosted evergreens, heavy, sweet vanilla, the coconut waves on a beach, a musky, leathery scent and you’re left swooning, wrapped in a towel as the tub fills behind you.

One vial, one left uncorked, you lift it to your nose and grin to yourself—that’s the one Loki must use.

Probably best that you don’t use the same, otherwise you’ll be smelling like Loki smothered you in some corner and followed you to bed, which might not be the best rumor to spread, given the dirty looks you’re already getting when the ring glints off your hand.

You settle on a small red vial. It smells like jasmine in the rain and compliments the dark, musky, sweet scent of your royal fiance perfectly.

It turns the water a rosy colour when you pour it in, the sweet scent filling the entire chamber, and you lower yourself into the warm water and break back into your book.

Per ancient tradition, gifts are typically shared between the two to be wed. A small knife or dagger is to be expected, and—

The heavy door bangs open and you shriek, nearly dropping the book in the water.

Loki gasps, coupled with your own shout at him to “avert your eyes, your majesty!” and he claps both hands over his face, spinning on his heel to turn his back to you.

“Why don’t you knock?!”

“I didn’t think you’d be bathing!”

“And what else would I be doing in here, dipshit??”

Loki’s shoulders dip. Oh, he’s laughing.

“Did you really just tell me to ‘avert my eyes?’”

You chuck the book at him, but it falls flat before it hits him. “Shut up, idiot.”

Taking a couple backwards steps towards you and the tub, he bends to pick up the book, turning it over with a low hum.

“Courtship? Do you intend to court someone, m’lady?”

“I do indeed,” you reply, resting your elbows on the edge of the bath and staring at his back. “There’s this one prince I just can’t get out of my head.”

“Annoying sort of fellow?”

“The worst. He’s nosy, too, and a little perverted, he likes to barge in on people while they bathe.”

“Sounds like a charmer to me,” Loki says, and you can hear his grin. “You should court him to the day he dies. And maybe…allow him the honour of turning around?”

“Get out,” you laugh, splashing water at his booted feet. “Why are you even in here this late? I distinctly recall, your majesty, our curfew for being seen together is precisely midnight.”

“Ah, yes…yet both of us are still awake.” Still turned away from you, Loki lowers himself to the ground at the edge of the bath, crossing his legs under him and flipping through the book. “And we’re together. Positively scandalising.”

You scoop up a handful of bubbles and smear it over his hair. “Seriously, Loki. What are you doing in here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“I have a plan,” he answers, leaning back on his hands with a sigh. “A grand, evil plan for the two of us irresponsible lovebirds to get into some trouble.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Have you ever tried Asgardian ale, darling?”

You suppress a shudder. “That’s not what they served at dinner, was it?”

“No, no.” His head turns ever-so-slightly to the side - the curl of his lips is visible, and you sink lower in the water to stay covered. “That was clearly boar’s blood, sweetling.”

You smack him upside the head. 

“Kidding,” he laughs, reaching behind him to grab your wrist. “I’m joking. That was Alderblóm nectar. Not to your liking?”

“It was sour,” you huff, trying to no avail to tug your hand from his grip.

“The trick is to have only a few drops of it in a flagon of liquor,” Loki nonchalantly says, absently twirling your ring around your ring finger. “Drown it in a sweet alcohol and it tastes much, much better.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Now let me go, please, and get your royal butt out of here so I can finish my bath.”

“But you haven’t heard my proposition.”

“And what might that be?” Your head drops to your free arm, resting on the edge of the bath. 

“You finish your bath,” he hums, reaching behind him with his other hand to try and find you again, but you duck away with a laugh. “With my assistance, should you request it, then I whisk you off on a forbidden adventure that I’m certain most of Asgard would deem inappropriate.”

“Coming from you, that sounds like a terrible idea.”

Loki laughs, hand still searching. “It is, I can promise you that.”

You grab his wrist, pressing a kiss to the cool skin there. “You better watch it, your majesty. Keep your devilish hands to yourself.”

“Mm…no, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Gonna have to. I’m following the rules, sunshine, if I’m going to be an honorary princess of this realm, I have a lot of impressing to do–”

“Queen,” Loki butts in. “Princess of Asgard, yes, but practically Queen of Jotunheim.”

“Damn, I did good.” 

His head falls back with a laugh. “As did I. Somehow. Now, will you come with me?”

Back still turned, he lifts your hand to his lips, placing the first soft kiss to your knuckles and another over your ring. 

“You’re really hard to say no to,” you sigh, leaning your head against his back. “I’ll go, but you’re going to teach me the rest of what I’ll be missing in my book, okay?”

An excited grin lighting his face, Loki picks up your book with a playful scoff. 

“Courtship? Easy,” he declares, pulling himself to his feet and snapping the book closed. “Hold hands. Speak kindly. Respect and support each other, and…oh, I’ve forgotten one.”

“I read something about a dagger–”

“Mm, yes, the royal tying of the tongues.”

Even facing away from you, he can feel your unamused eyebrow shoot into the air. 

“It’s…ceremonial. Can’t get around it. I’ll have to demonstrate—”

“Get out,” you groan, an undeniable warmth spreading through your chest when he laughs. “Get out of here before I change my mind, idiot, I’ll be right out.”

He sulks to the door, resting his forehead against it for a moment with a dramatic sigh. “I’m only a shout away,” he reminds you. “Just outside this door, all by my lonesome, feeling oh-so unloved…”

“I’ll be right out, Loki.”

— — — —

He’s lounging on your bed when you walk out, a softer-than-silk robe wrapped tight around you, and his scalding gaze tracks your every move as you fish your pjs out of your suitcase.

“I’m not wearing anything fancy,” you tell him, spinning a finger at him to turn around. “I was planning on sleeping, but alas.”

“Duty calls, hm?” He obliges you, back turned so you can change. “That’s quite alright. Where we are going…it’s not exactly high-end.”

“And where are we going?”

“Firstly, the stables. Quietly.”

Once you’re ready, he pokes his head out the door, giving the hallway a quick check before ushering you out of the room. 

A giddy Loki is definitely a rare sight, but here he is, grinning to himself and holding onto your hand tightly as you sneak down hallways and duck into hidden outcroppings whenever a guard clanks by.

These two, their golden helmets gleaming in the candlelight, glide past the two of you as you hold your breath, pressing yourself to the wall.

“Can’t they see us?” You whisper, sure that if the turned their heads in the slightest, the two of you would be caught. “We’re just standing here, can’t they—”

Loki brings a finger to his lips, then beckons you towards him around another corner.

A quiet step and your other foot touches down, soft and slippered, and you bolt into Loki’s arms with a giggled sigh of relief.

“To all eyes but mine, right now, you are concealed,” he explains, arm sliding around your waist. “You’re marrying a master sorcerer, darling, lest you forget that our sneaking is just beginning—”

Feet practically screeching to a stop, you clap a hand over his mouth.

Look.

Loki follows your finger, eyes widening when his gaze falls on his mother, lounging gracefully along a sofa, head on her hand and nose buried in a book.

Not a sound, not a single sound, Loki mouths, grip tightening on your hand as he inches along the furthest wall.

You’ve never seen Loki looks so…not exactly scared, but cautious. Like he knows someone has more power than him.

But with the grip he has on your hand, his focused, anxious gaze, and constant shushing, you have to bite back a giggle—it’s not like Frigga can ground him anymore, right?

“You’ll need a cloak, dear.”

Loki freezes. You run into his back with a thud, still trying to smother your laughter.

“G-good evening, Allmother.”

She doesn’t even bother to look up from her book, a playful smile on her lips. “Don’t pass the throne room until you’ve strengthened your charm, Loki. Odin is still awake.”

“Are you going to tell?”

It’s a child’s question, nervous and defeated, and you fall head over heels for the innocent twinkle in Loki’s eye.

“Tell what?” She smiles, winks. “I’ve seen nothing.”

The queen waves a hand towards the two of you, and a thick cloak of dark green floats down around your shoulders, fastening itself under your chin with a golden leaf.

“Oh, thank you,” you quickly blurt, awestruck. “Thank you, your majesty!”

“We’ll leave you be,” Loki says, grabbing your hand again—this time with an excited little grin and a mischievous spark lighting his eye. “Thank you, Frigga.”

When she does look up from her book, she smiles kindly at the two of you with a nod, and Loki bows his head ever-so-slightly.

“Mother.”

You suppose it would be inappropriate to yank him into a smothering kiss right now.

But you do, the moment you’ve run through the palace gates and into the dark stables, grabbing his wrist and crashing into the kiss, chest to chest and already out of breath.

His eyes are slow to flutter open when you pull away, the hand behind his neck not letting him get much further away from your lips than needed to kiss you again.

“What was that for?”

“Everything,” you whisper, lips brushing over his. “I’m proud of you.”

He just laughs, awkward and adorable as ever.

“Let’s leave, before the guards come looking.”

The ride on horseback seems ridiculously short, with how fast the horse moves, leaving you scrambling to hold tight to Loki’s waist.

It’s begun to rain, drops whipping past you as the two of you fly through a lush grove of trees, straight through a shallow river that stains the hem of your cloak; your cheek pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, only a bridge stands between you and a smaller city. Smaller, but just as beautiful as that of the palace.

Thankfully, the horse slows as the lights come into view, slowing to a cheerful trot. Even as late as it is, this little town is still bustling with life, and Loki gives a small wave to a bundled-up child staring as your horse trots by.

“This place is cozy,” you remark, finally able to loosen your grip on him—but only a little.

“I haven’t been here in years.” He guides the horse down a narrow street, bright, flickering lanterns lighting the way. “This was the stomping ground for Thor and I when we needed to get away from the royalty of the palace. The city never sleeps, and they’ve always respected a person’s secrets.”

“Secrets?”

“Well, Asgardian sixteen year olds weren’t technically supposed to be drinking yet. Much less if they are princes.”

“You little rebel,” you laugh, and hug him tighter around the waist. “Always one to break the rules.”

“Not breaking the rules,” he corrects with a chuckle, bringing the horse to a stop. “Just bending them.“

With that, he slides off the horse’s back and reaches for you, helping you down to the ground, mud splashing onto your ankles when your feet touch down.

“Hopefully, no one will recognise us.” Loki draws the hood of his cloak over his head, and you quickly follow suit.

“Is it a problem if they do?” You ask, not quite liking the concern in his voice.

“Perhaps,” he answers gravely, then turns to you with a bright smile. “But no matter. I won’t let anything come even close to harming you.”

Then he marches towards the door of a small, run-down pub, hand intertwined with yours, leaving you sputtering after him.

“H-HARM ME?? Loki! Loki, what are you—what’s going to harm me??”

The wooden door to the pub conveniently crashes open right in time with a roll of thunder, and the entire rowdy pub screeches to a silent halt.

All staring at the two of you in the doorway.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” the bartender gasps. “Loki.”

“Damn.”

The pub, cozy and crowded, bursts into an uproar.

“What the hell is this?” You shriek, ducking behind Loki as a glass crashes to the floor.

“They recognised us,” Loki replies. “And that’s our cue to leave.”

He ducks under another glass and ushers you to the door, wincing as a plate shatters against the wall, but the bartender, a burly, hulking, trunk of a man, steps in front of the door.

“Loki Odinson,” the man tuts, crossing his arms. “What would a prince like you be doin’ in a place like this?”

Loki’s grip on your hand tightens. A knuckle pops.

“Bjarke!” He feigns sudden glee, reaching up to clap the man on the arm. “So lovely to see you again. We’ve just come for a drink, my good man, could you serve the royal family once more?”

“I don’t have t’ serve you nothin’.”

“We are, ah, naught but travellers,” Loki laughs, voice smooth and calm—but the grip he has on your hand tells you otherwise. “Treat us as nothing else, nothing more than any other traveller with a thirst to quench.”

A compelling argument, you’re sure, with the two of you in gold-adorned cloaks—and your worn-down pjs, which you’re sure scream nothing short of “entitled midgardian.”

“Ah, is that what y’ are?” The great lumbering man sneers, moustache curled. “Not here t’ complain any longer, are you?” He spreads his arms, casting a slow look around the crowded, silent pub. “The prissy prince has returned, folks. Get ‘im a napkin for his royal buttocks before he has us all beheaded.”

Raucous laughter goes about the dim room, and you tug on Loki’s arm. “Let’s just go,” you murmur. “We can just get something from the kitchens. It’s not worth it.”

In a perfect world, you’d like to think he considered it, at least for half a moment, but his jaw clenches and brow furrows and you know it’s a lost cause.

“Don’t tell me you’re still going on about that one little hiccup, Bjarke.” Voice dropping, Loki takes a step towards the man blocking the door—dragging you along with him, keenly aware of the knife in the cutting board behind him and the glass mug in his hand.

“Oh, I am,” Bjarke sneers, meeting Loki’s advances with his own until they’re nearly chest to chest. “Y’really screwed me over, for a good long time of this business’s life.”

There’s a few scattered nods and murmurs of agreement, and you’re left mind reeling with ideas of just how badly Loki could’ve offended this little pub.

“Look,” Loki tries again, this time thankfully raising his hands. “My fiancé and I only came for a drink and to be unbothered for one night, can’t we move past this—”

“Fiancé!” The man roars, banging his fist against one of the support beams above him. “The ‘lil Loki has himself a fiancé, doe’n’he? Well, I’m just glad this time he brought his own whore—”

“That’s quite enough, Bjarke,” Loki cries, and you gape at him in surprise—he sounds desperate. “Please!”

“Loki, my boy, Loki,” he chortles, wrapping one giant arm around Loki’s shoulders and the other around yours. “We kidd. All is forgiven, my boy, you and yours’re welcome ‘ere, anytime.”

Loki lets out a quiet sigh of relief, sagging slightly under the weight of Bjarke’s arm. It might be the lighting in the little pub, but you’re pretty sure he’s flushed deep red, too.

Leaving you immensely confused, but glad nonetheless that the hurled dishes have ceased.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, reaching around the big man to give your arm a reassuring squeeze. “I do apologise for that whole…debacle. Though I don’t regret it; this place reeked.”

“What was the debacle?” You ask, fighting to peek around Bjarke’s bulging beer-belly to see your lover in question. “And can we, um, grab a table or something? Not that I don’t love your armpits, Bjarke.”

He lets out a burst of hearty laughter, letting the two of you go and pushing you towards the bar top. “I like you,” he announces loudly, resuming his place behind the bar as the rest of the little pub thankfully goes back to their drinks. “You’re good for this kid, but I dunno if ‘e’s good for you, bringin’ you t’ places like mine.”

“This is much better than the palace,” you admit, eyes widening when he sets a mug of something down in front of you—it’s about the length of your forearm and smells like a fireplace—slightly concerning. “Well, I mean, they’re both nice, but I can only look at so many shades of green before I go colourblind, y’know?”

“We’ve eaten nearly four cakes a day,” Loki adds, eagerly accepting his own drink. “I need something salty, something spiced, anything but sugar and icing, even just for one night.”

It’s true, and even as shocked as you were to watch Loki, the king of sweet-teeth, turn down his fifth sample of wedding cake, you can’t blame him. This whole “wedding” ordeal is turning into a much bigger deal than you expected.But then again, you seem to keep forgetting that one, you’re marrying a god, and two, he’s royalty.

He talks to Bjarke with ease, smiling and laughing and drinking his drink as they exchange tales, looking every bit the young prince that was beaten out of him. 

Lifting the mug to your lips, your other hand slips inconspicuously to his thigh, squeezing lightly. 

Then you spew your drink across the bar.

“What the hell—what is that, fire?!”

Loki nearly leaps out of his seat, lips involuntarily turning up as you retch, grabbing the nearest cup of water and gulping it down.

“Are you alright?” He asks gently, waving the cackling Bjarke away. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve warned you, it tastes like fire, feels like it, too…”

“No shit,” you laugh, trying to catch your breath. “Hi, yeah, mortal here, I’ll take something that won’t melt my fragile insides, please.”

“Sorry, menskr. Here, try this.” Still fighting back his laughter, Bjarke hands you a much smaller glass, this liquid a sparkling clear. “I give this to my young ‘uns, might ease you into the finer liquors.”

“What was that other one?” You ask, giving this drink a tentative sip. “Ooh, much better.”

“The fire one was mjoðr,” Loki answers, scooting a bit closer to you with the remnants of his own laughter on his face. “Or as most Asgardians call it, Odin’s milk, óðins-mjoðr.”

“Oath-mah-joether.”

Loki looks pained.

“An age-old Asgardian, with pronunciation like that,” Bjarke retorts with a chuckle. “She’s a wise one, Ormstunga, keep ‘er close.”

“Ormstunga? What’s that mean?”

“Serpent tongue.” Loki winks. “Your kind has named me silvertongue, but here, it’s slightly different.”

“I don’t think I want to know how you got that reputation,” you decide, gulping down more of your drink—liquid diamonds, hitting your tongue, and you quickly request a refill.

Bjarke readily complies, handing Loki a second giant mug as well. “Oh, I could tell you,” he snickers, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch Loki pale.

“That’s really not necessary, my friend.”

“Oh, it really is,” you butt in, eagerly scooting closer. 

Old stories of a young, rebellious Prince Loki?

You’ll stay all night, if you have to.

“Let’s see, ‘e would’ve been just around eight-hundred,” Bjarke starts, scratching at his chin. “Sorry, ‘bout sixteen for you mortal folk. Thor ‘n his pals, they brought Loki ‘ere, wanted to commemorate his becomin’ a man, y’know?”

“We really don’t need to be repeating this story,” Loki tries again, taking your hand in his and trying to tug you away from the bar—you stay firmly planted, tugging him right back into his seat with a grin.

“Not a chance, love.”

“Anyways,” Bjarke continues, his own grin growing by the second. “They practically drowned the poor boy, I still dunno how he stomached so much alcohol, but by the end of the night, he’d become a serpent, a bilgesnipe, some kinda bird I ain’t ever seen, a woman, even, then a little boy—he couldn’t pick who t’ be, ‘e was so hammered!”

Loki grimaces, head dropping to his hands with a sigh. 

“Don’t stop there,” you beg, throwing an arm around Loki and planting a loud kiss on his cheek.

“Well, I fed ‘im some bread ‘n Loki managed to get back to this form, but ‘is brother ‘n their friends wanted to set ‘im up with a lady, by that point. Fandral, that bastard, tried to hire one o’ the locals, but Ormstunga over here convinced them that he couldn’t do more than kiss a gal, much less bed ‘er—”

“Oh,” you say, realisation slapping you across the face. “Yeah, maybe I don’t want to hear this.”

“I tried to warn you,” Loki mutters, face in his hands, positively mortified. 

“No, it’s not that bad, I promise!” Bjarke bursts out laughing again, clapping Loki on the shoulder—Loki still doesn’t lift his burning face, though. “Nah, the lady agreed, o’course, who doesn’t wanna kiss a prince, ‘n Loki, barely able to pull himself off the bar—oh, did I mention? He climbed onto the bar top, fell asleep for a good while. I didn’t bother ‘im, the poor lad.”

“Thank you for that,” Loki cuts in, voice muffled in his arms.

“Ah, my pleasure. So ‘e lifts ‘imself off the bar, leans in t’ kiss this random gal, all ‘is friends hollarin’ up a storm, and ‘e does it. Lip-locked ‘n pretending to be the suave ‘lil bugger ‘e wanted t’ be.”

Your heart twists helplessly, just at the mere mention. You know it’s nothing of any importance, and yeah, it happened a few centuries ago, but still…hearing every grimy detail, you could do without.

“So Loki kissed some girl,” you say, trying to keep your voice loft and carefree. “What’s so bad about that?”

Loki just shakes his head on the bar top next to you.

“Yeah, ‘e kissed ‘er alright,” Bjarke laughs, and you try not to roll your eyes. “But then, then she goes in for more, and the whole pub’s in an uproar, yellin’ ‘n watchin’ their prince, but Loki’s done. I could tell, poor boy, ‘e was done before she even started, but instead of tellin’ ‘er so, ‘e turns ‘is tongue into a snake.” 

“He…what?”

“’E turned ‘is tongue into a serpent!” Bjarke cackles gleefully at the memory, shoving Loki playfully in the shoulder. “Couldn’t ‘ave just said ‘aye, ‘m done, get off me, whore,’ nah, ‘e turns ‘is tongue into a snake and waits for ‘er t’ scream! And scream she did, norns, I ain’t ever heard a scream like that.”

“Oh my god.” You burst out laughing, the scene playing in your mind over and over. “Geez, Loki, tell me you didn’t.”

“I did,” your fiance groans, shoving you lightly in the arm. “Are you quite done? Happy with your backstory, darling?”

“Gotta say, I’m not disappointed,” you laugh, wiping at your eyes. “I never thought it came from your literal serpent-tongue, but boy, was I wrong…”

“You’re welcome, Ormstunga,” Bjarke grins, passing the two of you another round of drinks. “Look at that laugh. Worth the embarrassment, no?”

Loki lifts his burning face, a helpless grin spreading over his lips as he watches you try to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

“Every second of it.”

“Okay, okay,” you wheeze, grabbing onto Loki’s arm for support. “But what about silvertongue, then? I gotta know that one, what’s the story there—”

Bjarke opens his mouth, moustache practically curling as he readies himself to launch into another story, but Loki lifts a hand to the lumbering bartender and stops his voice in his throat.

“That one…” Loki grins, a devilish glint to his eye. “Well, just wait until the night of our wedding. You’ll be able to answer that question yourself.”

Bjarke’s eyes widen and he flushes, sputtering behind the grin he wears—it’s refreshing, seeing the young prince happy again. Sneaking around, teasing, being in love.

“Oh my…oh, you’re troublesome, Loki, not in my scared bar, take your unholy innuendos elsewhere—”

You just laugh, pure and clear as crystal, and practically climb into Loki’s lap to snatch his lips in a kiss so sweet, the fiery liquor still on Loki’s tongue could be nothing more than honey.

―   ―   ―   ―

feel free to send me ideas!!

fuel the writer?

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys @highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy @ellaenchanted91

[imnotwolverine]

Doggy hikes and third dates

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: I’ve been mostly quietly enjoying all the smutty stuff available, but I guess it’s time to share some writing for you fellow Tumblr smutties to enjoy. I’ll be snipping the story into segments, so let’s start with the beginning. In a land far far away, called LA, a girl named Lisa encounters a familiar face. #yayhenry #bearkal

Word count: 11.553 

Disclaimer: Smut and fluff

---

This is part 1 of the Tea for Two story.

Find the masterlist here.

---

I was taking my early morning hike, the sun just rising over the LA hills. And already I felt that all familiar sweat starting to seep down my arm pits - a never ending story when you live here. It was going to be another long, tiring day. But alas, first things first: a good hike. 

I pushed forward, up the steep hill, seeing the glorious orange glow popping over the horizon and smiled as I managed to conquer the last few meters. I put my arms in my sides and panted slightly, casting a side eye on my watch. 6.35 AM. Good. 

There was nobody else around. Just...nice and quiet. ..Or not. A soft rustle. Panting. Strange. I looked around, seeing a large dog coming out of the rough bushes, his leash dragging behind him.

‘Hey..boy.’ I said, gently, seeing if it was friendly. The both of us hesitated, but, after a long good look it started wagging its tail. ‘Haha. Oh you lost your owner somewhere on the way little rascal.’ I cooed, letting him sniff my hand, which he licked. Salty goodness. I sniggered, picking up the leash so he wouldn’t walk off and ruffling his thick black and white fur. An akita. Quite an usual dog to keep here in LA. I checked his collar, finding a small badge with a phone number and dug around my pockets to find my phone and rang the number.

‘Uhh..hi?’ I said, not hearing anything at the other side of the line, except for a soft panting sound. ‘Good morning?’ A deep voice finally spoke. ‘Uh..hello. Uhm, did you happen to lose your..dog by any chance?’ ‘Oh! OH you found him? Oh that’s great. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.’ He spoke. ‘That’s alright. Are you near?’ ‘I ..don’t know...Where are you exactly?’ He hesitated, dragging the words out as if he was looking around, seeing if he could spot me. ‘Top of the hill good sir, haha, sorry. If you’re fast you might just see the sunrise with us!’ I quipped. He sighed in relief. ‘Ah. Stay there, I’ll be there shortly.’

Just some minutes later - me and the dog having sat down to look at the sunrise - we heard some heavy panting behind us. The dog looked around, jumping up and starting to pull his leash, leaving me just a split second to grasp the leash before he’d escape again. Also rising up, I could see a buff guy in tank top and shorts climbing up the last bit of steep hill. 

‘Good morrow.’ I said, smiling, pulling the dog back a bit so he did not block the way up. The man looked up, smiling in return, not being able to speak from being so out of breath. It was..the Witcher. Henry Cavill. He climbed up the last bit of steep hill, then rose up to full height, looking me in the eye. ‘Wew..what an adventure. Thank you…SO much. He’s never ran off like that.’ He widened his eyes, looking exasperated at his dog. The dog yapped happily. ‘That’s quite alright haha.’ I offered him the leash. ‘Your hound good sir.’ I offered and he took it without hesitation, an honest thank you on his lips. 

I smiled at the little moment him and the dog shared (naughty dog!), then looked back at the sunrise. The sky was bursting in rich orange and gold colours, Henry’s rhythmic panting the only sound in my ears.

Following my gaze to the view he smiled. ‘Good view indeed.’ I chuckled, agreeing. He licked his lips and straightened up even further. ‘Sorry, I haven’t caught your name..’ He finally said, looking back at me. ‘Lisa, from marketing. Also.. for the Witcher series.’ I smiled at him kindly, our eyes meeting for a good moment. He nodded, smiling. ‘Well, I thank you dearly.. Lisa from marketing.’ We both laughed and let our eyes glide back to the sunrise. If only I could stay here forever...but no. 

‘I better get going. Can’t arrive at work like this.’ I pointed down at my dusty, sweaty shorts and sports bra. He nodded. ‘Yea, let’s get going.’ Henry leaned down, folding his large hand around the dog’s snout. ‘Don’t you run off on me again, Kal. That was extremely naughty.’ 

I laughed, seeing the dog struggling to get away from Henry’s grip, then nimbly hopped down some rocks to skip right off the hill. Something Henry couldn’t quite manage, from the sound of it. I heard him and Kal struggling behind me, his heavy body and over-eager Kal making it far less easy to get down in one piece, sand moving and heels digging in. 

I looked around, raising an eyebrow. Henry smiled awkwardly, then caught up with me, setting a brisk pace down hill as Kal was more than eager to try and run ahead, pulling the leash. Seeing the over excitement, I eventually clicked my tongue. ‘Kal.’ He looked up. I gave him a discerning look and like magic he immediately fell back a bit, allowing me to take the lead, his nose staying in the curve of my knee.

I heard Henry chuckle. ‘Good with dogs huh?’ He asked. I smiled, though he couldn’t see since all he saw was my back. ‘Kind of. Grew up with big dogs. Bouviers des Flandres, german shepherds, Rhodesian ridgebacks.’ 

The path got a little wider, so I made way so we could walk next to one another. I smiled at him, before looking back at Kal. Henry started: ‘I adopted Kal about 6 years ago. He is mischievousness itself, but I love him ever so dearly.’ I sniffled, understanding. ‘But it’s trying too, right? You must have a terribly busy schedule.’ I asked, seeing him nod in silence. ‘Yes. But for some things you MAKE time. And I gladly make time for things that make me feel happy.’ He said thoughtfully, to which I nodded, looking down the hill. 

Other people were starting to pop out of their cars at the bottom of the hill, walking their dogs. ‘Including great doggy escapes.’ I said softly, seeing Kal had noticed these dogs as well. ‘Kal!’ Henry said sternly, to which Kal looked back at his owner, his ears folding flat in submission. No more escapes today, that was. 

‘So what’s your day looking like today?’ I asked, curiosity taking over. Our eyes met for a brief second, a smile pulling at his lips. ‘We have a script run through, some costume checks and a stunt rehearsal after. You?’ I looked at him, surprised he asked about me. ‘Same script run through - my manager’s on the bench so someone’s gotta be there to know what’s in the curtains. After that moving papers at the office and some freelance animation stuff. Which is really cool; Studio Ghibli is making some short show reels and I’m helping out. BIG dream.’ I nodded excitedly, smiling at Kal as he jumped up at me in mirroring excitement. 

‘Cool.’ He said, smiling broadly, petting Kal to calm him down. ‘And you like hiking?’ He continued. ‘Absolutely. Running too. But the smog is awful here. And other sports whenever. Though it’s hard to find time. LA life’s ..hectic.’ ’You are quite right.’ He agreed, before stepping back, since some big boobed bombshell in pink tracksuit came to walk passed us with her tiny chihuahua - or was it a rat? Hard to tell.. 

With the blonde bombshell being too occupied with Henry, it was bound to happen: I saw the chihuahua shoot nervous glances at Kal, who was already starting to pull on his leash, trying to shoot past me. And thus, without hesitation, I grabbed his thick fur, pulling him towards my knee, before nodding at the unimpressed woman who languidly walked passed us, trying her most obvious flirtatious look at Henry.

He stepped back besides me. We shared smiles. ‘Women..’ I quipped, laughing. ‘And men too..’ He said exasperated. We both laughed. Not long after we reached the first houses. I saw him looking around. ‘Well, this is me.’ He said, pointing at one of the large gates which probably led to one of the mansions hidden away behind the greenery. I nodded. ‘Well, have a good day and …I guess..see you at work.’ I winked, giving Kal a scratch behind the ears. 

Henry folded some rogue hair behind his ear, smiling awkwardly, hesitating while I got back up. I looked back at him, waiting him for to speak. ‘Uhm..thanks again for getting Kal. And..nice to meet you. Truly. It’s refreshing to meet someone like you..Lisa.’ He finally said, looking at me with an honest, though surprisingly dorky smile. I nodded, humoured by his awkwardness. 

‘You’re most welcome Henry. It was quite refreshing to learn you are such a …normal..’ I looked at the large gate behind him..shrugging..’Well sort of normal.. guy.’ We both sniggered. ‘See ya!’ I winked, before starting my walk down the bendy road. 

Just when turning the corner I could see him still standing there, looking at me, which was probably the moment he realized I could see him, and he quickly made a U-turn to get to his house. His face even more awkward, being caught in the act of staring.

---- 

Just a few hours later we sat in the same meeting. He had brought Kal along, who was let off his leash. Henry shook some hands of new cast members at the table and listened to some remarks from one of the assistants, not heading much mind to Kal, whom impatiently tried to push his nose under Henry’s arm.

Not much later everyone settled down and the meeting started. Me and a bunch of other crew members were seated on a row of chairs that were placed against the wall. Flies on the wall. Which meant we just had to be quiet, listen, take notes. But be it so, it got boring for me as well, once they started rereading the same scene a few times and my attention was drawn by an equally bored Kal whom was now popping his nose in between some people. They petted him, but he soon lost interest again, continuing his way. 

Cute dog, I thought, then got back to making notes when a new scene was started. It was then I felt his fluffy coat brush against my legs as he plopped down in defeat, melting into a puddle of black and white at my feet. It was also then, when Henry finally looked around, seeing us, smiling a heart melting smile. He sure loved his dog. 

——

‘Lisa from ..Marketing?’ I looked up. It was Henry. ‘Hello stranger.’ I quipped playfully. He joined me on a barstool at the coffee bar, which was opened during set hours. I sipped on my tea, looking back at the bar tender busying himself. 

‘How are you?’ He asked. I looked back at him. Was he really going to  ..put an effort into having a conversation with me? He saw my questioning gaze. ‘Busy with your thoughts?’ He tried. I laughed. ‘Sorry haha. Yes. Quite possibly. They’ve let go part of the team yesterday. Which means..a ridiculous amount of work for us to tackle.’ I raised my eyebrows in exasperation, sighing. ‘That’s showbizz.’ He said, knowingly. I shrugged. ‘Yep. You’re either in full sprint, or pacing in place. There’s no in between... How are you?’ I asked, noticing with half an eye that the bartender was walking up to us. ‘Can I get you anything Henry?’ Henry looked over at my cup. ’Tea.’ he said, giving a single nod. The bartender nodded in turn and moved away again. 

Henry looked back at me, smiling tenderly. ‘To get back to your question. I’m actually having a really good day. Scenes are running smoothly. Just..feeling good.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. I smiled at him. ‘Good to hear. And.. good to see you.’ I smiled honestly. He received his tea and thanked the bartender.  ‘It’s good to see you too.’ He turned a bit, hoisting up his tea in cheers. I raised my nearly empty cup, clinking. ‘Cheerio.’ I quipped. 

We turned around, looking out over the set, which was right now mostly stored away pieces of set. From the looks of it they were currently rebuilding a throne room..meaning everything was squeezed back in the corners, including practically whole the coffee bar area. 

‘I looked up some of your work. Really cool stuff.’ He flapped out. I looked at him in surprise. ‘What did you look for?’ I used my fingers as quote marks. ‘Lisa marketing LA?’ I sniffled. He smiled, a hint of shyness there. ‘I was actually smart enough to look at the employees list first. And.. looked up all 20 Lisa’s.’ He pulled a face, then continued; ‘Strange last name you have…’ He knitted his eyebrows. ‘It’s dutch. Roughly translates to..farmer.’ I shrugged. He smiled, shrugging along, understanding. I continued: ‘I guess not everyone is blessed with equally nice last names. Cavill is pretty cool.’ ‘Aye. Tis. It’s old french. Though my family is most..definitely British.’ He quipped, a tone of amusement in his voice. 

‘Do you miss your family?’ I asked. He took on a pensive expression, not answering immediately as he stared at some people hoisting up a heavy piece of decor. A large statue. He sighed, looking back at me. ‘I do. Mostly now I’m leaving my wild years behind me. Family starts to become more important.’ He said slowly, thinking, his gaze quickly moving to his cup of tea. 

‘So are you married, steady partner..something?’ I asked honestly, sipping the last of my tea, then putting it back on the counter. ‘Not as of right now. It’s just me and my trusty partner Kal.’ ’Oh mighty fluff-ball Kal’ I smiled, looking at my watch before hopping off my chair. I smiled at him kindly. ‘I hope you find yourself someone nice Henry. Gotta go, meeting starts soon.’ He looked at me, a glint of sadness in his eyes, then offered me a smile, nodding. ‘See you around.’ He said softly. I flew off, leaving him with his thoughts.

—

The next day, moving mindlessly to my usual spot at the coffee bar, I halted in place. He was sitting there.. again. And he was clearly waiting, playing around with his cup while letting his gaze fly over the seats beside him. Was he looking for someone? Maybe I shouldn’t disturb him, I thought, looking at another girl also sitting there. I turned around, deciding I’d better start looking for some coffee machine to ease my tea cravings.

—

Just three days later, same time, same place, he appeared again. For months I would not EVER see this guy, and now I saw him several times in two weeks. He sat down next to me, ordering a cup of tea. I was working on my laptop, only looking up after he had ordered his tea. ‘Hi.’ I said casually. We clinked cups again, sniffling. Silly. He smiled broadly. ‘Hi there.’ He was wearing his full-on Geralt costume and turned a bit towards me, looking at me studiously while blowing on his hot tea. It looked funny. A big buff guy in full leather armour, sipping on a cup of tea.

I turned back towards my laptop, quirking my head. ‘You know, I could use your vision and ideas on this.’ I said, turning my laptop a bit. I showed him some sketches for a red carpet event design. ‘Since you…walk these things and stuff.’ He scooted closer. I could feel his breath on my cheek. We exchanged a look. Gosh this man was soooo pretty. Even his stubble was…pretty. He smiled, knowingly, then looked at my screen. ‘Explain your vision.’ His voice kind and curious.

I explained, showing some examples. And how I wished to …freshen it up a bit. ‘More fantasy, less commodity.’ I stated. He scooted even closer, putting down his cup of tea. ‘I like that, that and that. This you should probably change. The press is not a fan of blocked views.’ His voice hummed in my ear while he pointed at some elements on my mood board and technical drawings. I looked over my shoulder. He was almost pressed against me. 

He sat back a bit when he noticed I glanced over. ‘Sorry. Uhm, you probably have a partner who’d KILL me if I dared touching his pretty lady.’ He said. I smiled, realizing what he was on to. ‘Not really. Just a fat, lazy old cat. I doubt she’ll even bother as long as there’s a lap to lay on at night.’ I sniffled in amusement. He smiled, his gaze flying over my face, then quickly looking back at the screen. ‘I like your sketches. This should be..really cool. They’ve made a good decision getting you on-board.’ I nodded. ‘I’m worth every penny.’ I said confidently, focusing on the screen, moving around some elements, then nodding and saving the design.

I felt his breath on my cheeks again. I felt his gaze. What was going on with this man? I looked up, closing my laptop. ’So.. how are you? Any more involuntary doggy search quests?’ I quipped, trying to ignore the electricity that crackled through the air as my lips half mindedly reached for my tea, sipping it. ‘Oh cold.’ I groaned, pushing out my tongue in disgust. He laughed heartily, turning away a bit to not get suspicious looks from the rest of the crew. 

‘Thankfully no escaping hounds and actually a pretty good week.’ Our eyes met again. ‘Want to maybe go on another hike with me?’ I asked honestly. His face shot from surprise to studious to overjoyed. ‘I’d like that!’ He smiled, then hesitated, ‘Though it won’t be in the morning. I’m…up at 3 in the morning for make-up.’ ‘Holy cow! Well eh..let’s look.’ I gasped, opening my laptop again to look at my calendar. He got the hint and opened his phone, swiping through several agenda apps. ’Thursday afternoon? Or..the weekend?’ He suggested. I scrolled through my calendar. ‘All fine. My weekend nights are booked, so preferably no early morning hikes after…’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s called D&D sessions with lots of wine.’ I sniffled. His eyebrow rose even further. ‘Dearness me. What do you play? And let’s pin Thursday afternoon.’ I nodded, putting it in my agenda. ‘I play a bard armed with a panflute and awful singing skill, level 14, and definitely stuck in a dungeon with my murder hobo party right now.’ I said, playfully earnest, looking him dead in the eye. He belted out a laugh. ‘I did not see that coming.’ We both chuckled.  

He sighed, still smiling, looking at me. We were interrupted by the bartender. ‘Another cup of tea?’ He pointed at my gone-cold cup. I smiled. ‘Yes please. Thank you Joey.’ He shrugged, looking at Henry, then back at me. ‘What?’ I smiled, confidently. ‘Are you two..dating?’ He asked, unbelieving. I looked over at Henry, raising an eyebrow. Henry smiled gingerly, then nodded, winking at Joey. ‘Sorry mate.’ Joey pulled a sour face, quickly turning away jealously to pour me some tea. I looked away awkwardly - WHAT?! What did he just say? I felt Henry’s warm, strong hand on mine. He smiled at me in question. ‘Are we?’ He whispered very softly. Our eyes met. His hand on mine I needed to swallow first, before even managing anything. Words Lisa, words. 

‘I ehh...guess we’re still figuring that out, aren’t we?’ I gulped, quickly straightening my back while looking at him. Joey handed me the fresh tea, quickly moving away to help someone else. Henry turned around completely on his bar stool, hanging with his elbows on the counter, his face was blank but I could see the little cogs turning in his mind. I knew men well enough by now.

I turned a quarter way to face him. He looked up and I smiled at him gently. ‘Women are complicated, but I’m not..not really. If I say we’re still figuring out what we are to each other, then that’s that. When we pinned this hike, just a minute ago, I did not have in mind it would be a date, just ..fun…figuring out. I know nothing more then your Wikipedia page by now. And that you have a dog named Kal. You ..well..I don’t know what you have found about me on the web. My work. But most definitely not even a Wikipedia page.’ I sniffled. He looked back up, inquisitively, then his face softened to that of one of understanding. 

‘For a moment I thought you were friendzoning me.’ He said honestly. I laughed, poking his arm, turning around to also be able to lean with my back against the bar. I sipped my tea. ‘Are you willing to date though? If it’s…right?’ he asked, trying to sound casual. I looked up while sipping my tea, then lowered my cup slowly. ‘Yea.. sure I..am.’ I nodded, then looked at him comfortingly. ‘I just don’t want casual sex right now. These LA men and women can be quite draining..they make all the effort to get into your pants..and then poof they’re gone.’ I shrugged, looking at Joey flirting with one of the make up ladies at the end of the bar. I looked back towards henry. I could see him smile while looking at the crew moving some set pieces. ‘Tell me about it.’ He said, his eyes a shade thoughtful.

A metal voice shrieked over the speakers. *SET RUN 4 in 5. CREW REPORT. I REPEAT SET RUN 4 in 5*. Henry effortlessly jumped off the stool. ‘That’s me.’ He looked up at me, hesitating. ‘You have my number.’ I winked, then said; ‘Good luck Witcher.’ He smiled, nodding. ‘Thanks. I’m looking forward to Thursday!’ ‘Same’ I said, quietly, which he probably didn’t catch as his white wig was already disappearing in the crowd. I sighed, finishing my tea and checking my agenda for my next appointment.

---

It was Tuesday evening. A day after I asked him to join me for a hike. And, with some surprise, I noticed an unread message in my Whatsapp from a new number. A picture of a pair of feet wearing huge ugly slippers, a familiar dog laying beneath them. I smiled. Ah. The mysterious Witcher. I was sitting on the couch with my cat Bib so I took a picture of her on my lap, me wearing equally awful slippers and sent it in return. 

Not much later a message popped up. ‘:) Looks like we have equal taste in awful looking slippers hahaha’ ‘Welcome to the gang ;D Had a good day?’ ‘Sure did. Got a new costume which is really…really cool. And the day truly flew by :) How are you and what have you been up to?’ ‘A rather boring day here actually. Lots and lots and lots of waiting (they call it meetings, but lets be honest, its just boring monologues) *meme of chef shooting himself with a penne pasta* And right now writing some recipes for my cookbook with my cat Bib keeping my lap warm.’ ‘Cookbook huh? You like to cook?’ ‘Sure do! And for some years now I write down my recipes and bundle them in a cookbook so I can give them away as Christmas presents to friends and family :)’ ‘I’d love to cook with you sometime!’ ‘Let’s first see if you survive a hike with me ;D’ ‘Should I be worried now..? ;)’ I snickered. He soon typed again. ‘Can Kal join us by the way? And what time are you off?’ ‘Of course! And about 2-ish, you?’ ‘3-ish I think. I’ve to check with my PA, I’ll let you know.’ ‘Sure. So you also cook?’ ‘Yes of course! Though not as often as I’d like since my schedule is pretty..crammed haha.’

We chatted for another hour or so. It was fun. I didn’t get any recipe writing done, but that was quite alright. ‘I’ve got to go. Hitting the hay. Zzz. Good night dear!’ He sent. I sent him a funny GIF of a sleeping bear. ‘Sweet dreams :)’ And he was offline. I sighed, sinking down further into my couch. Bib was softly snoring and drooling - old cat syndrome. I tickled her to wake her up, which she did ever so reluctantly. It was difficult to catch sleep. I just, silly as it be, couldn’t stop thinking of him. Of how ridiculous this all was. I had to resist the urge to look him up on Google. No, I didn’t want to find out every little thing about him through the internet. No, no. But maybe just..watching some pictures? No Lisa, no! Eventually I had to give myself some release before sleep would catch me.

----

Thursday. It was a grey, humid day. Work was running a bit late - I was glad we had set our hike at 3. It was about 2.30 when I made my way to the hall where Henry was having some stunt run-through. I sat down on the floor against one of the walls with a thermostat can with tea, sipping it while studying the men prance and dance around each other in a play-deadly fight scene. I laughed out loud when one of the men tumbled over his own feet while trying to step again, making myself known to Henry, who looked over his shoulder at me. He winked a ‘hello’, then with renewed enthusiasm jumped in place, getting ready for the next try. I noticed a few more ladies trying to be as casual as possible about hanging around. I grinned, studying their hungry glances, their legs fiercely crossed, lips pouted, eyes big. It sure must be tiring to be surrounded by all these horny women ALL the time, I thought. 

It was 3.10 when the stunt team dispersed. Henry, slightly sweaty, came over to me. He nodded, reaching out an arm to pull me up. ‘Hi.’ He said with sparkling eyes, making my heart flutter for a moment. ‘Hi there.’ I said gleefully, taking his hand and feeling how he so very easily pulled me up. I awkwardly pulled my underwear a bit after getting up. ‘Such a sweaty day.’ I said, rolling my eyes, earning a loud snigger from him. ‘Yea, let’s make a quick stop at my trailer so I can change clothes and pick up Kal.’ ‘Sure.’ He looked over his shoulder endearingly, sighing content. ‘Very Lara Croftey.’ He said while we walked out of the hall, looking at me up and down. I laughed, taking a fight stance. ‘Bring it on LA sun!’ He chuckled in turn. We arrived at his trailer. A large trailer. We could hear a dog waking up, his paws scratching the door.

‘Hey there pal!’ Henry said through the door, while fussing with the key. A dog bark. I smiled, taking the moment to put on some new sunscreen. The door opened and Kal stormed out, jumping up like a young calf, making Henry laugh out loud. Henry petted him fiercely. ‘Hey boy. Hahaha. Oh I hope you’re ready for ..a walk!’ At those words Kal got even more excited, yapping happily. 

When Henry made his way into the trailer, leaving the door on a slit, Kal decided to say hello to me. ‘Hey Kal. Pfff. You must be WARM in that big fur coat. We better find some shade - for both us that is.’ He licked my hands happily as I knelt down, looking him calmly in the eyes. He calmed down, sitting down as well, panting happily.

‘I don’t know how you do that.’ I heard Henry’s voice coming from the trailer. I noticed his face peaking from the door, smiling. I smirked. ‘He’s just a very good boy.’ I said, winking at Kal. Henry’s disappeared again, but I what I saw instead was him changing shirts through the small opening of the door. I blushed, quickly getting up and turning a bit to hide the redness. 

He soon popped out in some shorts, shirt and cap. ‘Put on some sunscreen?’ I asked while he closed the door. He looked over. ‘Ah..I forgot.’ I pulled the sunscreen out of my bag. ‘Don’t want a lobster Henry or the makeup team will kill me.’ I said. He chuckled, gratefully taking the sunscreen and spraying some on his muscular arms, rubbing it over his exposed skin. 

He didn’t properly smudge out the sunscreen on his face, so I stepped in, wiping it away. He smiled, closing his eyes, folding his hand over mine. ‘Soft hands.’ He hummed. I smiled, feeling my cheeks once again blush a tinge, making me look away quickly. He opened his eyes again looking at me sweetly. ‘Thanks.’ He handed back the sunscreen, our eyes locking for a good moment. We both smiled stupidly at each other, soon being disrupted by an impatient Kal who pushed his nose in Henry’s crotch, which made him wince forward. ��OOopphhf.’ 

I laughed out loud. ‘Alright, time to get cracking. I have a pretty nice walk set out for us, bit shady, few hills, not too long.’ Henry nodded, chaining Kal on a blue leash and following me.

We talked and talked and talked, keeping a relaxed pace while pushing ourselves up the steep hills of the Hollywood hills. Kal was walking freely by this point, sniffing and peeing all over the place, his tail wagging happily. Me and Henry spoke. About the set, about the dialogues he had to learn, about my animation work, cooking. About life. We had more in common then I ever thought possible. We were quite introverted, quiet people in public, had truly enjoyed MMORPGs but could no longer find the time, loved reading fantasy, cooking, hosting small parties for friends, unwinding in a bath with a good glass of cold white wine. We had similar humour. And were equally honest and direct. We were raised by parents who were quite similar. A somewhat nervous and emotional, but passionate mother and a relaxed, hard toiling father. The only difference being his relationship with his brothers was more close.

We sat down on a bench overlooking the valley, settling down in a relaxed, though quiet moment. I used the moment to wipe off some late summer sweat from my forehead with a makeup remover tissue. It was all greasy from the smog. ‘Yuk.’ I said, looking at the tissue. ‘Oh..can I have one too?’ ‘Sure.’ I handed him one. ‘Hehe mine is dirtier.’ He commented after wiping his face as well. 

‘Such a dirty man!’ I sniggered. He gave me a cheeky glance, to which I raised my eyebrow. ’Oh please!’ I started, but our interaction was interrupted by Kal who pushed his snout in Henry’s crotch again, making him wince forward... Again. I belted out a laugh. ‘Ooph.’ He groaned. ‘Mmm…Kal knows things..’ I grinned. Henry looked up, serving me a handsome smile, slowly sitting back up. ‘If anything.. he knows I haven’t been with a woman romantically for a very long time.’ He pushed some air through his nostrils, as he rearranged his trousers. 

Eventually I spoke again. ‘So you like men now? Or are just genuinely done with half of Hollywood?’ I quipped. He grinned painfully. ‘No men. Uhm. But, yes, I’ve dated… many women and just haven’t found any that I …clicked with.’ He said. ‘I’m sorry to hear.’ I yawned, stretching, earning a quick poke in my ribs from him. I snorted. ‘Oophh’. ‘Am I boring you good lady?’ ‘No, but I do think I could use some food, my tummy’s quite empty.’ He smiled. ‘Yea..let’s get going.’ 

We walked down the hills in steady, but much slower pace. Kal had also lost his quick step, now sometimes falling behind a bit. Henry clicked his tongue whenever he was slowpoking too much.

We arrived at Henry’s car (I got to work by public transport that day). I started noticing a pattern as Henry fell a bit quiet again, so I decided to say goodbye to Kal first, going down on my knees to give him a good ruff through his thick fur. ‘See ya Kal. You’ve been a good boy.’ He licked my face happily. I wiped off my face with a grin, then smiled at Henry. He sighed, then looked down as Kal got back to his feet. ‘What’s up?’ I asked. ‘I had a good time. I didn’t quite expect it to be so …nice.’ His gorgeous blue eyes looked at me with a mix unsure happiness. ‘Good. I enjoyed it too. Quite a lot.’ I smiled. He nodded, looking again at Kal, then back at me. I shrugged, hesitating. ‘Well..see you at work I.. guess.’ Should I just go?

I started turning around, hearing him sigh harshly, his eyes unsure. MAKE A MOVE - my brain screamed. I sighed in turn, turning back towards him, making sure we got good eye contact. ‘You know….if you are feeling like it you can join me for dinner at my place. Going to make greek food.’ He blinked. ‘Uhh..yea. I’d like that. If it’s no hassle’ His smile grew again. I smiled. ‘Well I don’t know how large of an appetite you have, but nobody has ever left my dinner table hungry.’ His cheeks coloured a tinge. ‘Where do you live?’ He asked. ‘Down south, 20 minute drive. Or public transport, though I’m not sure you’d survive that.’ ‘Ah yes..fan hordes. Let’s take my car.’ He nodded smiling, a visible weight being lifted from his shoulders, as he gestured to join him, walking towards the shotgun door to hold it open for me. I curtsied and got in. And just like that we went.

I was kind of zoned out, staring at people on the sidewalks, with Kal in between my legs, Kal also staring out of the window. Henry prodded me. ‘Here?’ I sat up a bit and nodded. ‘Yep. Don’t park next to that red car. My neighbor can’t drive for shit.’ I pointed. He grinned and parked at the end of the parking lot. It was about 6 pm when we walked up the stairs to my front door. My cat came up to greet us, but quickly dispersed when Kal jumped in. I followed my usual routine; keys on the hook, cooing at my cat Bib, throwing off my shoes after which Henry followed suit and tipple tapped into the kitchen for a large glass of water. I could see he was somewhat exhausted too, slumping down on a chair.  

‘Want a glass of wine or something?’ I asked. ‘Uhm..I’ll wait a bit. Still have to drive. Some water please.’ I nodded. ‘Mind if I have some wine though?’ ‘Oh no, please. Wine for the cook is always good. Can I help with anything by the way?’ ‘Slice these eggplants lengthwise in 2cm thick strips and salt them either side. We’re eating Moussaka!’ His face lit up. ‘Sounds good.’ ‘Ever had it before?’ I poured myself a glass of wine. ‘Once, in Greece.’ ‘Ooh, so I’ve got some competition.’ He grinned, chopping with great ease through the eggplant. Strong arms. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. When he noticed me looking, I averted my gaze and smiled.

I moved the moussaka into the oven and sat down opposite of him at my small square kitchen table. ‘Hi.’ I beamed, rolling wine around in my glass. He nodded in greeting. ‘I usually feed my cat around this hour, shall I give Kal some food as well?’ He sat up in his chair and nodded. ‘Uhm yea. Good thinking. He’ll probably hate me if he needs to wait all night.’ ‘All night?’ I raised my eyebrow, smirking. His eyes darkened as he held his breath, slowly nodding. I got up and looked for a bowl and whistled. Kal sat up and Bib also sneakily peaked around the corner. ‘Who’s hungry?!’ I belted, filling their bowls with pellets and a bit of wet food. 

Kal pushed his nose in my crotch in all excitement, making me squeal. ’Ooph okay boy. Haha. We’ve got to stop having you do that.’ I laughed. Henry gave him a pat on his butt, laughing in turn. ‘He sure likes crotches.’ I snorted, looking at Kal, who immediately sat in anticipation. I lowered his bowl in a corner of the kitchen and stroked his snout. I looked at Henry, who simply said: ‘Eat’ and Kal started hogging down his food like he hadn’t eaten in days. My cat on the other hand wasn’t so eager to come into the kitchen so I placed her food on a good lookout place. She took a few bites but soon enough left to hide somewhere higher up.

I poured some more wine in and Henry pointed. ‘I’ll have one too.’ I nodded, getting him a glass. ‘Just an FYI; it’s simple supermarket wine.’ He smiled, shrugging like he didn’t care, then clinked his glass with mine. Not long after the moussaka was done and we sat down for dinner. What I thought would be a meal for 4 days, became a meal for 1 day. Henry sure was munching it away like sweet cake. ‘This is..freaking delicious. My god.’ He mumbled. I smiled, sipping my wine. He sat up a bit, wiping his mouth in giddiness. ‘Where are my manners?’ He smiled. 

We ate and ate until our plates were empty and our bellies filled to the brim. I rolled my wineglass around in my hand, looking at Henry. He was silent, looking back at me. I shrugged. ‘Superman for dinner, how about that.’ I smirked. He looked at me, his eyes locking with mine. ‘I like you.’ He blurted out. I looked at him, a touch surprised, then smiled. ‘I like you too.’ We just continued looking at each other, gentle smiles tugging at our lips, lust darkening our eyes to the point that I... I... I felt uneasy and got up. ‘Want some tea?’ I croaked. ‘Sure.’ He quickly said. 

I felt his eyes piercing my back while the water cooked. Come on, come on. Cook faster! I almost trembled, so unlike me, while filling our cups, soaking some tea bags in them. I put his cup of tea on the table, immediately feeling his hand sneaking up my leg. He was looking at me, questioning me. I tilted my head as my head really started to race. FUCK. ‘That’s reserved for third dates.’ I said, trying to keep my voice level. He grinned, nodding in understanding, then suddenly got up, closing the small space between us. But instead of fully bridging the distance, he cupped my head with his hand.

He folded a rogue hair behind my ear and just looked at me, endearingly. ‘Hi.’ He whispered. I held in my breath. ‘Would you like to go on a date with me?’ He asked in earnestness. I snorted. ‘Hahaha. Oh. Ehm. Yes. I’d like that. Go…’ He kissed me. And somehow that still caught me off guard. It took me a second to realise what was happening. It was a slow sweet kiss, a gentle one. A much to short kiss, my mind reeled. He smiled at me. ‘Good.’ He stated proudly. I was still a bit flabbergasted by all that had happened. Why? Dazed I looked at him for a moment. Fuck this. I eagerly pressed my lips against his again, a kiss he accepted with similar eagerness. It became a passionate, almost sloppy kiss. One that left me all flustered and slightly out of breath. ‘I better get going before we don’t make it to a third date.’ He whispered in gruff voice. I blushed feverishly, nodding.

Half an hour after he left I saw a new Whatsapp message popping up. I opened it. A picture of Kal on his lap. I burst out in laughter and plopped down on my couch, just staring at the picture for a bit. My cat didn’t let a moment waste and quickly plopped up on the couch to butt her head against my hand. I petted her. ‘Oh Bib. What is this?’ I made a picture of Bib curling up against me and sent it back. No more response after, but all was right, my heart was pounding and all I really needed was some me-time. I put my phone under a pillow, so I could resist to urge to keep texting him and put on some Netflix series. Not long after I felt my eyes droop and I could barely make it to my bed before falling right asleep.

The next morning I checked my phone, seeing he had sent some app messages last night while I had been watching my series. ‘Hi ;) so how’s Thursday evening? Go for drinks?’ I smiled and  responded. ‘Good morning :) Thursday’s good. Any place in mind?’ Before I had fully gotten out of bed I heard my phone buzz with a new message. ‘Good morning dear one. Rooftop winebar with cats good?’ He responded pretty much straightaway. At once my heartbeat was back to racing speed. I took a deep breath, playing it cool and first doing my morning routine (getting dressed, toilet break, petting Bib)..though perhaps a bit more rushed than usual. I got back to my phone, answering: ‘Mi-auw! Sounds perfect.’ ‘I’ll pick you up at 8, good?’ I sent a smiling cat with thumbs up. Immediately feeling silly. But just shrugging it off and putting my phone in my bathrobe before making breakfast. I felt the phone buzz in my pocket. Right after putting a spoon in my yoghurt, I looked: a dog with a thumbs up. I giggled.

It took a lot of self control to not constantly check my phone every second over the next couple of days. We would occasionally share some details of our day. He mostly responded really eagerly when I shared my tomato red head after I had done some running. Of course, he exercises practically non-stop. And lots of pictures of our animals. Me walking Bib on a leash had him send a GIF of a cat on leash being dragged around since it didn’t want to follow. Hilarious.

Anyways. It was Thursday evening. I had dolled up a bit in a cute dress, black choker necklace and beachwave hair. No heels since I didn’t know whether it’d be a lot of standing or walking stairs. I heard my doorbell ring, finding a sexy man in buttoned open blouse and tight pants, a smile from ear to ear. Okey. Gotta admit. Ravishing. I would have loved to drag him into my bed then and there. Instead we shared a quick peck and he took my hand walking to a cab. Arriving at the roof top there were a few people, but it was mostly secluded. And there were indeed a few cats. We ordered a bottle of Merlot and let ourselves melt into a lounge bench overlooking LA. I noticed a couple that was secretly looking at us. ‘Do you ever get used to these people blatantly staring at you?’ He looked over his shoulder, waving expressively at the people who quickly looked away in shock. He smiled. ’Never completely. It is kind of dehumanizing at times. But then again, part of the job.’ ‘Do you miss it..just being able to walk the street unnoticed? Doing groceries?’ ’That’s been a long time ago honestly. But occasionally yes. At least some trainers and a cap work wonders.’ I laughed, taking a sip of wine. He looked at me. ‘They’ll start noticing you too.’ His voice was tender, but serious. ‘So quickly?’ He nodded, looking into the distance. The sun had started to go down and lights were being turned on. ‘Did something happen with your previous girlfriends?’ I asked with honest curiosity. He hesitated for a moment. ‘It always changes things. Some love the attention so much they want all of it. Some get suspicious of every bush and tree and don’t want to go out at all. Most of them got way too obsessed over looking dolled up 24/7.’ He slowly shook his head. I studied his face. ‘The press is a hungry beast.’ He finally said.

He looked back up at me. ‘What do you want? Stay hidden for a while?’ ‘We’re not really hidden right now..are we?’ I winked, hinting at the couple once again staring at us. He grinned. ‘They’ll probably not get further than starting a gamble on how long you and I would last.’ I shrugged, smiling. ‘But to get back to your question. No public events or any of that. But I sure as hack don’t want to give up being able to go outside together, since I love outdoor dates. I just want to get to know you. We are in the end an unlikely pair.’ ‘Unlikely pair?’ He raised his eyebrow. ‘Well, Henry, make an educated guess.’ I sat up, looking at him with a challenging smile. ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife..’ He recited. ‘Pride and prejudice.’ I nodded ‘Do you think we don’t match?’ ‘Well, other than that you are WAY more handsome, you are probably an even bigger dork than I am.’ I leaned over, giving him a peck on the lips. He smiled into our little kiss, cupping my cheek with his free hand, his other one balancing his glass of wine. ‘You are one of the few women I’ve met who dare to look closer than skin deep.’ He hummed. I moved back a bit to be able to look straight into his eyes. ‘Scaredy cats.’ I whispered in Annie voice. He tilted his head. ‘Annie, League?’ He gasped. I snorted out a loud laugh. ‘Boy, you are equally dorky!’ He laughed in turn. ‘Girl, that is. But yea, maybe just a little.’ He got up and pressed his lips against mine more feverishly before resting his nose against mine, gazing blurrily at me. ‘I’m so glad I’ve met you.’

After our date we got to another awkward little situation. I thought it best to just take two cabs. I mean. He lived up the hills, so it would be a whole trip to go around whole the city to bring me home. But he insisted. In the cab he pulled me closer, just squeezing me in his strong arm, resting his cheek against my head while I was staring at the lights flashing by. We got to my place way too quickly for my liking. Saying goodbye was getting harder each time we met. ‘I want to see you again.’ He whispered right after we kissed our goodbyes, standing by my door. ‘I’ll pick the next date.’ I stated quickly. He looked at me in slight confusion. ‘Aren’t men supposed to..?’ ‘Goodness, it’s the 21st century.’ He snickered, kissing me again, more passionately, pressing me against my front door. ‘Okey..okey..Let’s..’ I pushed him away out of breath. ’Say goodbye.’ Our eyes burned into one another. ’Speak to you soon.’ He said hoarsely, and quickly made his down the stairs. I felt almost depressed seeing him rush off, then again realising why he didn’t stall. He hadn’t been with a woman in over 1 year, yet had to act it out over and over on set. Surely he had some pent up feelings from just that. I opened my door and found my cat meowing impatiently at me. I had an uneasy feeling coming home. I could reason it all. But it left me feel a bit cold and lonely all the same. I looked at my phone. ‘Henry is typing….’ I closed my eyes, sighed, then typed: ‘You ok?’ He removed his text. Then again ‘Henry is typing…’ I waited, looking at the screen. Eventually his message was sent. ‘Didn’t mean to rush..sorry..:/‘ ‘You need to chop some wood.’ I sent, with a cheeky winking emoticon. He sent an uncomfortably smiling emoticon. ‘Yes..I forgot the number one rule before first dates..come prepared and ‘chop’ one first.’ With winking smile. I returned a kissing smiley and walked towards the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The cold feeling left. I felt my heart warm up as quickly as it cooled down before. And just like the other day, he sent me a picture when he got home. It was the wood logs near his fire place, followed by a shrugging emoticon. I sniffled. I had some wild dreams that night. Wood chop worthy ones.

I’d decided our date would be a doggy bootcamp. I had picked up a dog from the local shelter and there we stood in full track suit with dogs at the ready, along with some other sports crazies. It was sunday 8 o’clock in the morning. And the dogs were ecstatic. We decided to go for a gentle jog, since the dog I picked up was ALL over the place and definitely not following - like the lady at the shelter said he usually does. Probably his first sniffs at actual freedom, not a simple driveway walk, made him go mad with excitement. We chuckled and spoke of our week while we got to the first set of hurdles. Two of the women who joined us were totally gushing at Henry, continuously trying to flirt with him, unnecessarily sprinting after Kal who quickly outran them and asking him all sorts of slightly inappropriate questions. But he shrugged it off effortlessly. ‘Sorry ladies, if you don’t mind, me and Lisa are quite happy as just a twosome.’ The ladies huffed fiercely, giving me a dirty look, then spurted off with their pitchy dogs that were barking top lung.

Henry and I sure had to convince our guest dog to participate. His name, Scuff, seemed appropriate. He was a shaggy, confused dog, that didn’t really get what we wanted to do. Only when Kal did a few show runs, did Scuff follow with a dumb smile on his snout. All and all though, we had great fun, a little workout, the dogs were completely exhausted and after I pulled out some picknick gear for us to enjoy at the top of the solarium hill. A great view, almost alone, and the dogs eagerly ate the dogfood I had brought along. We sat there slightly sweaty, but satisfied, eating our salad and sandwiches. Henry gazed out over the trees, then halted. He pointed. ‘Hey, that’s my house!’ I followed his pointing finger. ‘Which one, the huge bachelor pad, or the ridiculous super villain mansion?’ He gave me a silly look. ‘The house with a good view, in-door gym and ..if you care to know, a really glorious shower.’ ‘Is this your way of saying I need a bath?’ ‘Well, we both do, don’t we?’ I chuckled, then my thoughts wandered. I knew that my 3-date rule was getting hard to follow with such a shower. My silence did not go unnoticed. ‘I chopped some wood.’ He added. I gave him the look, then smirked. ‘Well, i didn’t.’ He smiled, then fiddled with some grass, sighing. I looked back at the direction where he had pointed. ‘But a cup of tea sounds like a good idea.’ His gaze travelled over my legs, to my torso, to my neck, my face. Hungry eyes. He blinked. ’Tea.’ He croaked, catching himself giving thirsty looks.

We walked down the road to his house. Scuff was completely wasted, no longer following, but Kal was ever as excited, realising he was nearly home. The house was indeed large, with high fence, tropical garden, long driveway, pool, modern style supersize bungalow with top to floor windows. ‘It’s temporary, while we are shooting here. I actually live in London.’ I looked at Henry. Only now realising he was in fact a European too. He looked at me. ‘I spied with my little eye you’re from the Netherlands. Not very far from Britain.’ I smiled, somewhat uncomfortable. It kind of broke the fairytale experience. Realising we wouldn’t always be so close to one another. We stepped into his house. It was rather empty, just some straight from the box furniture with little soul. And dog toys and pictures, lots of those. I let my gaze fly over the pictures. His brothers, parents, family, some shots with fans, at movie sets, Kal. He halted, looking over his shoulder. ‘Make yourself at home. Green tea?’ ‘Yes, lovely. No milk or sugar!’ He grinned. ’Naa…that’s even for me, a brit, too awful.’ ‘Thanks.’ I grinned, taking a closer look at the pictures at the bottom of the wall. I heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, glasses clanking. Kal and Scuff had followed him into the kitchen, hoping to fetch some snacks. Which, from the sound of it, they got. I walked in seeing them chewing on some pig ears. ‘Oh you lucky fellas!’ I smiled, following Henry who nodded we would be sitting outside. ’tWas a lovely afternoon.

‘So how long are you still here?’ ’Till end of September, then we’ll fly to Poland…will your team join there?’ ‘Yea.’ ‘Cool..so..Poland. Up to December. Finish shooting there. Fly to England, press tour worldwide in January..which is going to be truly hectic..then a long break. And then shooting here starts again.’ He shrugged. ‘Someone once told me to never date a colleague. Perhaps he was a wise man.’ He looked at me with a question in his eyes. Unsure what to make of it. I looked out over the valley. ‘My year: contract up to first month in Poland, after that a BBC movie in the shetlands till end of January, but probably half of February, I know that director too well. Free schedule after that.’ He took my hand, taking my cup of tea and putting it on the side table, then took both my hands, looking deeply into my eyes. ‘I know this is all so very quick and we need to get to know one another. But please know I wish to invest my time and love into you.’ Those words hit me. I looked back into those deep blue pools of trust and warmth and couldn’t help but smile. Then sighed. ‘It’s quite a thing to have to think about. We’re going to be all over the world. And right now, we have only just touched surface on getting to know each other.’ ‘We have some months to figure it out.’ I looked at him, agreeing. ‘Yes. October.’ He pulled me closer, kissing my hair. I laughed. ‘Aiiii…I’m smelly. Don’t kill your nostrils with my stench.’ He grinned, pulling me all the way up in his lap, with great ease, and hugged me like I was his dearest toy. ’Stink or not. I like you.’ I pulled my arms out of his tight grasp and wrapped them around his neck. I gazed into his eyes, curiously. We looked at each other for a minute or so. Just, silently watching each other. Studying the fine lines on our faces. The way our eyebrows arched over our eyes. Our noses. Our lips. Curious lovers. Then finally our eyes met again. His eyes watered ever so slightly. I kissed him, crushing my chest against his. I could feel his heart beating harshly against his chest. Silently I cursed my three-date rule.

We had a busy week after. Shooting had fully started. This meant long ass 14-hour shoot days. And two of my team members had burned out, leaving us working overtime just like the actors and film crew. It was Saturday evening. We’d have a day off tomorrow. I had just finished up my day, it was 11pm, when I waddled towards the warehouse where they were shooting the last scene of the week. A pub scene. I squeezed in with some of the makeup staff. Henry was playing Geralt, absolutely covered in monster guts. It was even steaming. And everyone was singing toss a coin. The scene was cut and the director applauded. ‘And cut. Great work everyone. See you on Monday! Hair, can I have a word?’ Everyone dispersed, with the warehouse being practically empty in the stretch of just two minutes. Henry had noticed me and walked up to me. ‘Hmmm’ He rumbled in character. ‘You, need a bath.’ I stated. He grinned, making his appearance all the more scary. ‘And a nap and some food.’ He agreed, silently referencing a previous conversation. One of the make up ladies came hurrying up to him, hesitating to tug his gut covered arm. ‘I’m coming Suzan. Wait for me?’ The makeup lady gave me a weird look. As in; why would you wait for him? What the fuck? You two ..dating?! Iewl. I shrugged. ‘Sure.’ I smiled, nodding sweetly at Suzan. Not soon after they locked down the warehouse, leaving me outside in the cold. I looked over at the car park. Might as well wait for him at his car. Just when I wanted to text him I got a message from him; ‘Meet at car? Warehouse locked’ I returned a thumbs up, already seeing him in the distance.

‘That was quick.’ I grinned. ‘They didn’t have hot water.’ He groaned. ‘Military style hosing down.’ ‘You poor bird.’ I gave him a peck on the cheek and petted his back. He looked over my shoulder checking if the coast was clear before cupping my chin and giving me a deep kiss. ‘Maybe not as glorious..but what about a third date? Takeaway at my place?’ He smiled, arching his eyebrow, while circling his large arms around my small waist. I looked at him curiously. ‘I think I’ll fall asleep before we can finish our date, won’t you?’ ‘Then we just sleep.’ His eyes pierced mine. ‘Ok.’ I finally agreed. He cheered, picking me up and swirling me around. I belted out a loud giggle. While lowering me down he kissed me deeply again, resting his nose against mine before reaching for his car keys.

20 Minutes later we arrived at his place with some Mexican food, were greeted by a sleepy but very happy Kal who came pitter pattering out of Henry’s bedroom. We snacked on the food, made out, drank wine, got lazy, then after some serious yawns decided to hit the hay. It had been a very long week. It was nevertheless strange how comfortable sleeping together was. Usually at the beginning of relationships I would barely sleep. But this felt good. I snuggled into his arms, he talked a little, then soon enough my eyes fell shut and I felt his lips touching mine. ‘Sleep well my sweet princess.’ He whispered. The next morning there was no alarm clock, just Kal’s claws ticking on the floor. I stretched out finding Henry looking at me. ‘Hi sleepy head.’ He said. I yawned, then smiled at him. ‘Hmmm. Hi.’ ‘How did you sleep?’ ‘Oh I feel like I’m still dreaming, so good.’ I smiled lazily. He brushed some hair from my face, then slightly bent over me, studying my face. ’Maybe.. this requires a magical kiss!’ He said playfully earnest, studying my face some more, then kissing me, before studying me again. I sniggered.

‘Ah, the princess seems to have awakened!’ I booped his nose with my finger. ‘Carefull. You may or may not risk getting yourself turned into a frog.’ He laughed in return, kissing me passionately and climbing completely on top of me. ‘I take that risk.’ He said gruffly. It made my heart race within seconds. His muscular, heavy body pressing me into the soft mattress. His thirsty look. I dared not look down at his trunk. I felt my breath choke while I looked up at him. He broke his thirsty look with a sweet smile. ‘The safeword is stop. And then I’ll stop. Okey?’ My breath felt ever more laboured. Wow. This wasn’t a dream. This was real. This was. Oh my god. Third date. 

He started languishly kissing me, his left arm keeping himself propped up while his right arm looked for my arm, entangling our fingers. I felt my groin catch fire. And I could feel him. His taught muscles, his bit of chest hair, his erection that was now pressing eagerly into my hip. I sighed in between our kisses, taking a deep breath, looking at him. ‘Oh my.’ I whispered. He grinned, before cupping my face sweetly. ‘Too fast?’ His eyes pierced mine, a gentleness overtaking them. ‘No. It’s..it’s good. It’s great. Oh my.’ I uttered. He kissed me again, smiling, then took my hand and placed it on his chest. And there my hand slowly travelled over his chiseled body. Feeling it. I closed my eyes to focus on the sensation of finger tips rippling over his muscular physique. I could feel my groin getting soaked, but I didn’t mind. I sighed a more laboured breath, then returned his kiss feverishly. He kissed me, but quickly pulled back. 

‘I want to feel you.’ He said gently. What? I was a bit at loss of what he meant. He was on top of me right? Then he nodded at the underwear I was still wearing. I laughed. Silly me. ’Take it off of me.’ I smiled, which he did with trained hands, flipping us over so he could reach the clasp of my bra. He threw it aside while continuing kissing me. Then he took a breath, looking at me while his hand travelled over my undies, questioning me. I gave a slight nod, which was all he needed before removed my last piece of clothing in one fell motion. 

His eyes languishly travelled over my body, a finger tracing what he saw in appreciation. I shivered under his touch, already very much aroused by simply having one of his fingers touching me. He then moved away the blankets and crawled on all fours to bend down in between my legs. I felt my breath completely choking. He noticed, looking up at me, looking for confirmation. All I could do was sigh a soft ‘yes’, while I felt his breath on my southern lips.

Oh. His wicked tongue. This tongue! His strong hands pulled up my legs in a strangling position while he lapped me like he hadn’t seen water in days. I squealed and shivered, feeling heat coil up inside me. Where an orgasm would usually take me forever, it already engulfed me. It took seconds before I felt my every nerve, electricity curling my toes, my mind putty. I gasped while he continued, now adding two fingers. I huffed and puffed, feeling my whole body tingle and shake. ‘Oh Henry. Ohhh…’ 

He finally got up from between my legs, looking devilishly satisfied. He crawled up, hovering over me once more, looking at me. I closed the gap, kissing him feverishly. He groaned, sinking his hips closer to mine. His erection now pressing harshly into my leg. I could feel the weight of it. Oh darn. ‘I want you.’ He said hoarsely. ‘Condom.’ I breathed. He nodded, moving to his side of the bed to reach into his bedside table. He got up, removing his trunks, looking at me in full naked, erect glory. I could only stare. That was…very well endowed. A greek god wouldn’t look any less divine. 

He crawled back on top of me, grunting while rolling the condom over his erection. ‘Hmmmmpfff. Fucking things’ He huffed for a bit, looking at me while panting slightly. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before lowering himself down. It felt like he was holding back a whole lot of pent up energy. He kissed me. First sweetly, but soon passionately, almost feverishly, and I could feel his erection starting to press against my maidenhood. I panted in unison with him as he slipped in. He lay quietly for a bit, prepping up. ‘So tight.’ He gasped. I laughed, then groaned when he moved. ’Oh Lisa.’ He started to slowly push further into me. Which I didn’t know he could. So big. I groaned, slightly in shock and grasping his arm as he started moving in and out.

The feeling was so deep and big, it shocked me, stirred me, made me almost lose consciousness at some point. Our breaths were laboured while he moved up my legs, hitting an even deeper spot, which I did not even know I had. 

After a few minutes of his incessant pounding, his hip bone rubbing just right, I came, again, shivering around his erect cock in such a way he couldn’t help but release himself as well. He grunted, squeezing painfully in my leg, after which he fell over on top of me. I gasped at his weight covering me like a weighted, very much penetrating, blanket. ‘Can’t breath.’ I whispered, to which he quickly propped himself up, apologising. ‘Oh my gods. That was glorious.’ I smiled languidly pressing my head back into the pillow, taking a few more laboured breaths as he pulled out. He just looked at me, panting slightly. ‘Haa.’ He uttered smiling. ‘I almost forgot what it felt like. So good.’ He whispered. ‘I haven’t come like that in 5 years.’ I stated, looking at the ceiling in utter awe. 

He liked to hear that I think, as he rolled over and propped himself up on one arm, looking at me with a smile of victory. ‘Well I can give you many, many more.’ He kissed me. Slowly. Sweetly. I let my hand travel over his chest, then looked back up at him. ‘Your condom is…full.’ I stated. He looked down at the large blob of latex that was hanging from his cock. ‘Ha...Yea…haven’t found a condom yet that can truly…handle me.’ He grinned, slightly wincing while he pulled it off, quickly wiping the leftovers with a towel. He sighed, stretching out on his back.

I peeked at his still erect penis. It bounced slightly off his lower belly. I propped myself up on one arm in turn. ‘Shame they haven’t put a pill for men on the market yet.’ He raised his eyebrow at me. I grinned. ‘Do you use the pill?’ ‘Yea..just to be sure. Don’t want to become an accidental mom.’ He nodded, looking down at his penis. ‘I would however like to still use a condom for the first while….’ I said. He looked back at me with an endearing smile. ‘A small price to pay for such a big reward.’ He pulled me on top of him and pulled my hip against his still erect penis. He closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the sensation of skin to skin. Not long after I felt his erection starting to stir again and his right hand hastily grabbed another condom from the still opened drawer, expertly tearing the packaging open with his teeth. His darkened eyes interlocked with mine while he rolled the new condom over his cock. ‘Come here.’ He pulled my face towards his lips and just while he kissed me I could feel his hand moving his cock somewhat, positioning it. Seamlessly, while he cracked open my lips with his tongue, he re-entered me. Slower, with more rolling hip motions he rocked his cock against my insides. I melted into his arms, his hands keeping my hips lifted while he slowly picked up speed. It felt like a warm shower. Tingling, so hot, but comforting and healing.

After a few more hip thrusts, I climbed off of him, feeling frisky and perching up on all fours, wiggling my hips. He didn’t waste a second, bending over me, re-entering me in one fluid motion, hitting an even deeper spot. I gasped. I felt him bend over me completely, kissing my back and neck as is hands traveled to my hips, pulling me even further on his cock. I let out a little whimper. ‘Oh good gods.’ I whispered. He groaned: ‘You are so…tight.’ Not long after he started thrusting again. These thrusts were so deep I could feel them come up half my belly. I gasped and gasped some more while he ravished me. He eventually pulled me up, thrusting upwards while his lips interlocked with mine. ‘I’m coming.’ He said hoarsely, starting a punishing pace, making me bounce up from the mattress entirely. And then he groaned a final sigh of relief. He collapsed into me, letting us fall sideways on the bed. Still interlocked. 

He sighed, spent and satisfied, enveloping me in his arms while his lips pressed a kiss in my neck. I was just laying there limply. ‘Are you okay?’ He asked softly. I nodded, while slowly turning my head towards him. ‘I’ve never been with someone so well endowed.’ I whispered, looking into his eyes. He smiled. Even now, I could feel his cock deep inside me. ‘I have some pain killers for cramps.’ I huffed: ’He said while still fully burrowed inside me.’ He nuzzled his face in my neck. ‘Sweet womb.’

---

Part 2 >

[bepp-ers]

A tale of red and blue | S. Todoroki X Reader X K. Bakugo [Pt 2]

Fantasy AU! Part two:

“Hold on tight...” You barely had time to throw your arms around the dragon’s neck before you were sent spiraling into the air. You wished your dress was a little looser, so that you could twist around to watch the castle disappear.

You rose higher and higher into the sky, until you were soaring a good distance over treetops and streams. “This is amazing!” You yelled out, extending an arm to the clouds above.

After a few more minutes of flying, you slowly began to dip towards the ground, near a lake.

“Whew, that was so fun.” Bakugo jumped off first and unexpectedly helped you down properly - you were expecting him to leave you to your own devices, but it seems there was at least a few princely charms about him.

Kirishima reverted back to a human form and stretched lazily. “I’m tired...” You giggled, taking a seat on a nearby fallen log overlooking the large lake.

“Y’know, you’re not as awful as I thought, Bakugo.” You started, as he sat besides you. Kirishima had sat down besides a large rock, and had already began to take a nap. 

“Eh!? What’s that supposed to me?!”

“Well, it was nice of you to let me see a dragon. And you made sure I didn’t fall off. Thanks.” He rolled his eyes, but his frown had softened a lot.

“Whatever, who’s saying I’m not leaving you here.” “Hey!” You elbowed him playfully. “Relax, that old bat would kill me if I left a guest out here. Plus, you’re not that bad yourself.”

He said the last part quieter, but you still hear him. “Oh, you’re not falling for me now are you?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him go red and start cursing you. “No! Fucking pervert! Ugh, weirdo.”

You simply laughed in response, enjoying how easily flustered he was. It was a nice change from the uptight, stiff nobles at home.

☆

Later on that day, you found yourself bored once again. Bakugo hadn’t left you at the lake, and after a while you headed back to the castle.

Dragons were certainly amazing, and you wouldn’t mind doing it again, but right about now you had other ideas. You swore you had passed a library on the way to your room on the first day, but where...?

“Bingo.” You smiled at the large arch in the wall, carved with dragons and books in the large wooden beams. It didn’t take a scholar to realise that this was a huge royal library, and you hurried towards the nearest shelves with vigor.

‘Wow, there are so many foreign books, I’ve never even heard of half of these authors...’ You thought, scanning for an interesting book. Maybe one on dragons?

A likely-looking spine caught your eye, on a shelf just out of your reach. It was dark blue, with silver font spelling “Dracones, quae sunt?” which you recognised as latin.

‘Dragons, what are they? Looks promising, now how the hell am I supposed to reach it?’ Standing on your tiptoes, you rose to your full (short) height, and stretched for the book.

Alas, there was still too much distance between you and the book, and you couldn’t reach the spine enough to get a grip. 

Then, you felt a presence behind you, and a hand extended and pulled the book you wanted off the shelf with ease. Spinning around, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it was Todoroki.

“Is this the book you wanted?” You blinked, and nodded, accepting the large book. “Yep, thanks. What brings you to the library?” He shrugged, as cold as ever.

“Boredom, mostly. It’s not too interesting here, and Bakugo isn’t very approachable.” You laughed. “Well, that’s certainly true. Though he took me to see a dragon this morning, so-”

“A dragon?” His voice showed no change, but his eyes twinkled with interest for a split second. You nodded, clutching the book closer to your chest.

“Mhm! It was so cool, we then went for a ride over all the treetops.” He raised his eyebrows in disbelief at that. “Are you being truthful right now, because I fail to believe that.” 

You rolled your eyes, and pulled something from your pocket. “Does this convince you?” It was a tear-shaped scale, red and leather-like. He widened his eyes as you pushed it into his hands.

“Well, I’m going to go read over there. Nice talking to you, Todoroki.” You headed over to a set of plush sofas and armchairs, settling on soft cream-coloured sofa.

Opening the book, you crossed your legs and placed the heavy book on your lap, flicking through the pages full of detailed illustrations.

You turned your head as the sofa dipped with weight to your left, and you turned your head to see Todoroki. You raised a brow, and his mismatched eyes bored into your own.

“I find it’s nicer to read with company. If you’d like, I can move, but I get the impression you probably don’t mind.” You shrugged, grinning lazily. “It’s fine. What book have you got?”

You glanced over and saw that his book seemed to be the same as yours, probably by the same author? You shrugged it off, and shuffled slightly closer to the two-toned boy.

“So what’s your kingdom like?” You finally asked, watching him reread the same paragraph for the fourth time. “Boring.” He stated, not looking at you and beginning the paragraph a fifth time.

‘Zoned out? Wow.’ You suppressed a snicker as he realised what he was doing, and flicked the page over, only to do the same thing on that page.

“Sounds like it. L/n isn’t as cool as this kingdom, I gotta admit. Our parents are all doing that peace treaty business, with Queen Mitsuki, right?” “Mm. That they are.” 

“Well, I’m bored. Do you wanna explore this castle with me?” You proposed all of a sudden, surprising even yourself. He put the book down, looking over at you finally.

“And why would I waste my time with that?” His voice was bland, but his eyes showed interest. ‘So, I’ve found his weakness. He must’ve been wanting to explore for a while, but couldn’t think of an excuse.’

“Well, I don’t know. Because it’ll be fun?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure it will.” “Well, I’m gonna explore. You can be boring and read that paragraph for the seventh time, or come with me. Your choice.” You set your book on the table, with several others, and stood up.

You grinned seeing Todoroki follow suit, and you lead him out of the library. “I saw a cool looking stairway on my way over, let’s start there!” “Why did I agree to this?”

You ignored him and you trekked through the plushly carpeted halls, sometimes turning corners or bends. Arriving at the staircase, you descended full of curiosity.

Even Todoroki would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a bit curious. Still, he wasn’t sure what prompted him to join you in the first place.

It was like a string was tying you two together, and he felt the need or want to follow. You jumped down the last three stairs, and the carpet had stopped at this point. 

Stone bricks, worn away by the comings and goings of old knights and servants, lead you to a large ornate wrought-iron door. Todoroki gave it a hearty push and it creaked open slowly.

“Ooh, spooky.” You grinned, stepping into the dimly lit corridor. It wasn’t the servants quarters, that was on the other side of the castle, so where did this lead?

The candelabras on the walls were few and far between, so Todoroki seized one off of it’s sconce and held it between the two of you.

Your footsteps were amplified by the large arching hall, creating an eerie effect as though someone was following you.

After another minute, you reached another door, and this time you pushed in open. With a loud creak, it swung open and revealed...

[To be continued...☆]

[w-h-4-t]

Random DAI Drabble: If Being Annoying was a Specialization...

Pairing: Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet

TWatP: Drabbles, Extras and Everything In-Between

**************   

ONCE AGAIN! A teeny tiny fragment drabble ft. my Inquisitor a Qunari Elf named Fen’Harel Adaar *howling laughter at my expense remains*. Oh and Josie. Sweet lovely Josie.

I have not reread this since I wrote it, I probably should have. 

One would think that a world-shattering war would lessen the Inquisitor's spunk. Though she did occasionally that pit, she would often scramble out with a smile.

Today, however, she had more than just a smile on her face. A big, stupid, dopey grin that blinded the advisors whenever she looked at the Ambassador from across the War Table.

Josephine with her social maneuvering would look all too professional despite the foolish face the Qunari wore. The idiotic grin never faltered, even when she looked at Leliana who was testing out new and exciting death glances on the Inquisitor.

Nothing.

It appeared as though lovesick foolishness was a powerful enough shield to defend against the daggers cast at her. It took a while but one particular glare got through, finally snapping the idiot from her daze.

Leliana took note of how much anger she shone through her eyes to achieve that result.

The idiot took to looking over the markers to see what terrible, horrible happening found itself needing her attention.

Cullen, noticing his chance, took advantage of the new-found focus, "Have you found the Specialization trainers to be adequate, Inquisitor?"

Hearing her title, the Qunari looked up but not before placing her index finger on a map marker, "Oh, they’re brilliant! I’ve already started practicing for the one I really really want to do."

All three advisors silently prayed the plucky thing didn’t want to be a Necromancer, her reputation was infamous enough.

"Observe," the Herald said as she opened her palm over the marker.

Green wisps started forming over her hand and Cullen had to restrain his Templar mindset from leaping into action. The marker began to shake slightly before hurtling itself upwards into the elf’s palm.

Quite the interesting show followed as the marker was pointer than the Inquisitor expected, thus causing her to yelp in pain as the metal made contact. She curled forward groaning, raising her hand and shaking it to try and banish the stinging.

"Fade gravity!" she said through clenched teeth, before standing up straight, hand still open" I can pull and push things now. Next, we’re going to summon rocks....I think."

"So you are looking into that new practice," Leliana mused, "The Rift Mage, yes?"

Harel’s eyes lit up at the mere mention of her prospective specialty, "Yesyesyesyes!!!," she looked away as if revealing a secret, "a little dangerous since most of the people who studied it uh....exploded....but it’s SO AMAZING!!!"

At the word ‘explode’, Josephine cast a look of muted concern to her before Harel piped up again, "Have no fear, Your Trainer is there to make sure I won’t just turn into a delicious red paste. "a thought led to another thought, "If I were a paste, I’d probably be strawberry."

"Are you certain all aspects of this practice are safe?" the Ambassador replied to try and bring the elf back to reality; concern not well hidden at all.

An abashed smile from the Inquisitor, "Other than collecting wraith juice in a corpsy bog, I don’t think I’ll be turning to jam anytime soon." the elf begins to swirl little green wisps around her hand, "Your Trainer says I’ve got a good affinity with this style. I’ll be fine." she settles a doe-eyed stare to Josephine, "Plus I like the Fade. I like it a lot. I want to do this."

There’s far too much honesty in Harel’s voice which causes the Antivan to drop her questioning. The elf did indeed love the Fade an odd amount. To take that joy from her would be to crush her spirit entirely, even if her interests were more than a little dangerous.

Cutting off the wisps, Harel passed a hand through her hair before stopping mid-stroke.

Her eyes were fixed on the Ambassador yet again.

Was it stupid grinning time already?

Instead of a wide smile, there was an analytical look to her, green eyes darting over Josephine’s face.

"Is something the matter, Inquisitor?" the Antivan said, noticing how the Qunari began to step around the table towards her.

Closing the distance, the elf stalked right behind Josephine, eyes still querying as Cullen and Leliana looked at the show being put on.

Harel brought her hand up, eyes still looking over the diplomat’s hair as she fiddled with the pins holding the style straight.

"Harel-"was all Josephine could get out before she heard the sound of spellcasting and the telltale loosening of the pins.

The damn wolf was using her magic to undo her hair!

"Inquisitor!" the Ambassador chided.

Alas, the damage was already done.

As she turned to meet the foolish Qunari elf’s gaze, her black hair whipped around with her, tumbling forward and cloaking her shoulders.

Harel held up her palm, still writhing with magic, to show the pins floating in a green pool. A big, stupid grin back on her face as she looked at the mildly indignant diplomat.

The only part of the style that still held was her two braids, now falling to meet the rest of her unbound hair.

"Are you quite serious?!" Josephine quietly fumed, not willing to entertain Leliana anymore than she already was.

"Yes," was all that escaped the Qunari’s mouth, "You should wear your hair out more often," she brings the ambassador into a hug, holding her tightly to her chest as she pocketed the pins, "I believe you told me that once. If only you knew I felt the same about you."

Maker, Josephine didn’t know what was more embarrassing, the blatant saccharine confession, the gentle embraceor the fact both happened in front of colleagues.

"I-"Cullen started only to be hushed by Leliana.

"Be quiet, I think I can hear Josie’s face turn red from here."

"Let me go!" the Ambassador mumbled as strictly as she could while crushed into the Qunari’s chest.

"Never," she said, resting her chin atop the black, wavy hair.

[veliseraptor]

fic rec meme: 2019 edition

Rules: Post links (Ao3, ff.net, etc.); specify fandom/pairing/etc; don’t answer the same fic twice - spread the appreciation; tag other people; you don’t have to answer all the questions, but leave them in the list so the next person can answer if they want.

I was tagged by I think a couple people - @aphrodaisyacs and @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys. I’m going to try to keep this pretty short because I have a tendency to go on and then not finish these kinds of things because I overwhelm myself. 

I also cheated a bit on a few (a lot) of these because I read a lot of really good fic this year. And tried to include some recs I haven’t seen from others in my circle/fics I don’t see recced that often (though that’s not true of all of them).

I also shuffled things around so I didn’t repeat them, though a lot of these could be included in more than one category.

1. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (multiple chapters/parts): I did not read a single complete multichapter fic this month. Meant to, but didn’t do it.

2. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (one-shot): The mirror has a mirror in its teeth by deadendtracks. Peaky Blinders, Tommy/Lizzie, messy as hell in the way that I love.

3. Favourite WIP you’ve read this month: But I’ve read so many good WIPs this month. I’ll go with Contraction by NamelessDragon, MCU, Loki/Bucky, sequel to Compression (also amazing), which I’m finally catching up on after being stuck on reading almost everything for months.

4. One fic/series you’ve read which you keep coming back to again and again: (those yesterdays bleeding through by wnnbdarklord (MCU, time loop set during The Dark World) comes to mind, as, of course, does Bargaining by proantagonist (alas! for its vanishing), but to pick one that kept coming up this year I’m going to have to go with the nine in the tree by bereft_of_frogs, MCU, Thor & Loki-centric, post-Ragnarok AU.

5. Most underrated fic you’ve read this year: It feels like cheating to do this for a small book fandom, but you know what? My small book fandoms deserve more love. Based on lowest kudos I’m going to go with that he on dry land loveliest liveth by skyvehicle, Lymond Chronicles, post-Pawn in Frankincense. 

6. Most underrated fic you’ve read EVER: God, I don’t know. Again, it would be a small book fandom. You know? Because it deserves it and I love it and it probably is the most underrated fic, if only because it’s in a tiny fandom - In Memoriam by Tedronai, Malazan: Book of the Fallen, I love grief/mourning fic.

7. Favourite whump/angst fic of the year: This was tough since this is the genre I read most of in general, but because I managed to get a lot of fics on here via other categories, I’m choosing Into the earth I trampled it down by deadendtracks, Peaky Blinders, grief/mourning featuring Polly and Tommy. This fic was ouch all around, and beautifully written, and excellently characterized, and just...well, I’m clearly going to be reading everything that deadendtracks writes from here on out.

But I’m also going to slide In Cold Blood by NamelessDragon (MCU, Loki & Bucky, canon divergence AU) on here too, because it just updated and it really is fantastic, and I am so excited for more. It has all my favorite tropes written all over it, and promises some truly excellent whump based on the writer’s history.

8. Favourite hurt/comfort fic of the year: Again, a category with a lot of faves, but I settled on Walked In These Quiet Hazes by ratsats, MCU, AU where Loki comes back from the dead and is majorly fucked up, as is most everyone else. It’s rough, and it’s beautiful. And calling it “hurt/comfort” is probably...well, it takes a while to get to the comfort, I can say that, but it’s worth it. 

9. Favourite fluff fic of the year: Did I. Did I read any fluff this year? I suppose some of the Good Omens fic I read probably qualifies, though it doesn’t feel like fluff to me so much as...comedy? Wait, I’ve got one: Love Wounds Me With Soft Pillows by verbaepuchellae, Lymond Chronicles, Francis/Philippa, post-Checkmate.

Oh yes, after I wrote this I found another one: such surpassing brightness by Handful_of_Silence, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale. Beautifully inventive, and fits into a very specific genre I can’t get enough of.

11. Favourite smut fic of the year: Shockingly, I didn’t read a lot of smut this year. I’m going to go with The Beast That Chose It’s Own Bridle by thespectaclesofthor, Doctrine of Labyrinths, Felix/Murtagh, post-series, (less than) kink negotiation, WIP. 

Oh, and also Chains of Gold by Anonymous, Lymond Chronicles, Lymond/Gabriel, hoo boy. My glorious Lymond/Gabriel fic I received for Yuletide. I can’t wait to find out who wrote it so I can lie down on their doorstep and beg for them to write more like this.

10. Favourite gen fic of the year: The Thanos Problem by Ranowa, MCU, post-Ragnarok AU. Okay, this is technically a series, so sue me. I especially liked When the Hammer Falls.

12. Favourite fix-it fic of the year/ever: This might be the hardest one. I read a lot of fix-it fic this year. I wonder why. I’m going with “the year” because otherwise it is just far too overwhelming and I couldn’t choose.

After a lot of debate with myself, and by eliminating other fic by virtue of sliding it into other categories, I settled on two: the only soul I’ve ever saved by valkyrisms, MCU, Loki survives Infinity War fix-it. I overall got pretty quickly annoyed with the genre of Loki-and-Peter Parker fics, but this one was just...so good. The Peter voice was amazing, the working with Loki’s Jotun biology as part of the whump was inspired, it was well written as all of valkyrisms work is, and just...so good. 

The other (I told you I was cheating!) is Keep It In Your Sights Now by LuckyDiceKirby, Shades of Magic, Lila/Kell/Holland, fix-it fic. I needed this fic in two ways - the threesome it involves, and the fix-it it involves. Delivered on both.

13. Favourite crack-fic fic of the year: I really don’t read crack-fic anymore.

14. Favourite sick-fic this year: Castaway by ariaadagio, Lucifer, Chloe/Lucifer, is me cheating again because “sick-fic” it is only loosely, but I want to include it because it was very good. Though I think technically I reread it this year. Apparently I didn’t read much sick-fic? Weird.

15. Favourite kid-fic this year: Another thing I don’t read very often, and apparently this year (at least based on my bookmarks) don’t have a rec for. 

15. Fic this year which you didn’t expect to love as much as you do:  Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm, Good Omens, therapy fic. Okay, so, in premise and everything this did have “me” written all over it. But I certainly didn’t expect to find it, and I definitely didn’t expect it to be as good as it was, right down to making me love an OC (which is rare).

16. Fic which convinced you to ship a pairing: This is cheating because technically it was another fic on this list, but since I wouldn’t ship it without it I’m going to rec As much what it is as what it’s not by deadendtracks, Peaky Blinders, Tommy/Lizzie.

17. Favourite AU you’ve read this year: I slid some of my fix-it fics over here, because canon divergence AUs are my jam and maybe that wasn’t the intent of this question but I don’t care. 

After some debate with myself, and rereading several favorites, I’m settling on my fearful trip is done by valkyrisms, MCU, the one where Steve runs into an unexpected child of Thanos in Wakanda. It’s real good, you guys. And yes, this does mean that I’ve put two valkyrisms fics on this list and I’m not sorry.

18. Longest fic/series you’ve read this year: This one’s easy! Eden!verse by ImprobableDreams900, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale, the first fic in the series made me cry more than anything I’ve read in years.

19. The last fic you’ve read: The last new fic I read, since I reread a bunch of new things on this list while I was sorting through what I was going to choose, was to prove they are not dead by alreadybroken.

20. Wildcard fic you haven’t mentioned but deserves a shout-out + why: I waffled back and forth between two fics and what the hell, you know what, I’m going with both. The first is Miles to Go by josiepug, Peaky Blinders, which satisfied my desperate Tommy whump itch (for a time, it’s back now); the second is Where Is the Power That Made Your Pride? by Drag0nst0rm, The Silmarillion, aka the one where Celegorm lives and things are still bad. Not an AU I knew I wanted, but I guess I’m not surprised. 

Bonus Category: 

Best horror fic: dark underground//violent sky by bereft_of_frogs, MCU, I can’t tell you more than that because it would spoil it. I love horror fic and I have missed it since leaving Supernatural fandom. This one scratched that itch and I’m still thinking about it. Maybe it’s time for a reread.

As usual, I’m sure I’ve missed/forgotten some faves. I always do. 

I...lord, I feel like most of the people I’d usually tag have already been tagged for this? If you’re a mutual of mine and you haven’t been, go for it! I’m always excited to see more recs.

[knightofameris]

YEAAAAAHHHH WE SMARTASSES!! WOOOO WE GOT THROUGH MIDTERMS

p h y s i c s ?????? I am. So sorry. i am so sorry you have to deal with physics. that sounds horrible and i would never wish it upon anyone. AND NO YOURE SMART YOU GOT THIS!!! i am cheering you on while also planning on overthrowing anyone who tries jeopardizing your way to the top— anyways. brain = off. mind = everywhere but nowhere at once. and no u.

HHHHGNFNGHHGG I LOVE NARNIA SO MUCH. the entire story was so good and it always made me cry no matter how many times i read the books/watched the movies. not me having the hugest crush on both edmund and susan pevensie....., ANWYAYS YES!! i can totally see what you’re saying with their similar writing styles!! god i love when authors :) and MC is just. Amazing. there is no other way to describe her. i love her to pieces and if i could i would steal her for myself ngl i wouldn’t be opposed- i mean what?

the more i read the more i just want to stop at the A/N right before all the alt endings 😭😭😭 it’s so tempting, because i feel EXACTLY how you feel with going there for the boys but now i’m just so invested in MC finding herself and becoming happy. i want that someday. it’s making me realize how much i want to be a main character and it’s sad BDKSNDS

(also thank you for recommending me this,,, honestly it made me so happy when you made a specific post for me,,, i love it when people send me things bc it reminds them of me or they want me to get into it bc they think i’ll like it like it just warms my heart fbsksndksk) —🧸 <3

HI HI HI UPDATE I FINDIEHD ALL THE ALTERNATE ENDINGS WHILE LISTENING TO THE RESPECTIVE PLAYLISTS THAT THE AUTHOR MADE ON SPOTIFY AND IM REALLY GOING TO CRY?????? AND THEN I LISTENED TO SOME OF THE SONGS FROM THE REGULAR PLAYLIST AND IM JSUT SITITNG HERE ALSO I LOVE DIBA AND ARANYANI SO MUCH I MISS THEM WTF AMERIS HELP I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO ANYMORE THIS FANFIC HAS CHANGED ME WHAT THE FUCK —🧸

p.s. my favorite ending and arc in general was iwaizumi’s. i refuse to comment further

I COMBINED IT CUS I FEEL BAD FOR SPAMMING THE DASH AHAHAHHA. 

and putting it under a read more because this bad boi is long

I still,,, have another midterm. but its okay this one I'm not too worried about LMAO. 

KDSAJFLADSJF YEAH ME TOO IM SORRY I HAVE TO DEAL WITH PHYSICS TOO what kind of dumbass chooses physics as their major? (me, i’m the dumbass) BUT THANK YOU AHAHA. ill fight everyone for you too!!! brain off always, I accidentally posted the drabbles when I was supposed to post them all tomorrow AHAHAHAH. 

NARNIA WAS REALLY GOOD (don't look at my old works tho, I wrote them when I was 15 and bad at writing please.) its very nostalgic and I really want to reread them tbh. they were just so good AHHHH 

DUDE YEAH ID DATE MC AHAHAHAHAH. god. i was so tempted to not finish the fic either but here I am. i want to reread but I don't want to get hurt LOOOOL. fuck the boys we’re here for MC Suzuki. LOL 

and of course!! I really thought you’d like it and I really really love this story sm. <3 

ALSO OMG I NEVER LISTENED TO THE PLAYLISTS..... OOPS. LOL. diba is such a good character and aRANYANI is that how u spell her name idk. LOL I REALLY LOVED THE OCS. I liked her family even tho her mom wasn’t perfect and like, yeah! her mom doesn’t deserve a redemption arc but she’s trying to be better which I fuck with. even the mom knows she wasn’t perfect and that she should've done better. but alas.  

you’ll need a few moments to let the fic settle in. good luck. LOL

I.... am biased and I say suga AHAHAHHAA with oikawa as a close second and kuroo next! also loved iwaizumi too!!! 

ALSO ALSO. I'm in the discord server with the Fly High writer that she has, and I showed her some of your comments (I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND AHKDJG) but she said thank you and that it means the world! it took her a moment to reply because she was dancing around the room, her words not mine! LOL 

[luciuspm]

Falling Leaves - Chapter 2

Arden O Llwynogod was not enjoying the party.

The food was too rich, the music too loud, the smiles too fake even for his liking. He frowned, taking a sip from the glass of non-alcoholic wine in his hand. He didn’t much care for the raucous laughter coming from a group of  drunk lords across the room, and certainly didn’t want to inebriate himself enough to the point that he might join in. Sighing, he glanced around. He couldn’t stand the Winter Court. In his opinion, all of them were either cold-hearted and power-hungry or merry-making and loud.

He sighed. In Arden’s ideal world he wouldn’t be here; he’d be in his study, rereading one of the novels his father had gifted to him, or else walking in the woods, appreciating the silence and the fresh air. Alas, Lord Dinsmore had forced him into attending this cross-court party. In his heart Arden knew that the lord was right when he said he had missed too many socials, and that to be a good lord he’d need to mingle with the other nobles and form alliances. But that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it.

Noticing his glass was empty, he began to meander to the nearest buffet table. However when he reached it, he found the wine bottles had been spilled over and emptied onto the various appetizers, most likely by some drunken visitor. The red liquid stained the finely woven white table cloth and dripped onto the floor. With a wave of his hand he summoned a servant of the household and left for the direction of the kitchen. As he walked down the stairs leading to the kitchen he was quietly considering to drop the virgin drinks and go for something with a bit more of a punch when he stopped at the foot of the steps. A little ways down the hallway was a freshly set buffet table, no doubt waiting to be wheeled upstairs to the ever-hungry royalty. However, there was a figure crouched over it.

He squinted. They didn’t appear to be another one of the servants, for their attire was ragged and unlike the uniforms of the other maids and butlers. Yet they seemed to fuss over the dishes as a cook’s nervous apprentice might. He was about to turn around, not wanting to embarrass them, when they shoved an entire biscuit into their mouth.

“Hey!” He shouted, quickly walking down the hall. Their head shot up and they stared at him, beginning to back up. Their surprised expression told him everything he needed to know. “Who are you? What the hell are you doing down here?”

They stilled, feet locked in place as he halted a few feet before them. Now that he could see them clearly his frown only deepened; they were almost a foot shorter than him, with a slight frame made only more pathetic by a mop of dirty brown hair, a leaf poking out of it. Their antlers were small, too, as if their growth had been stunted. He cocked his head. “Did I stutter? Answer the questions.”

His impatience only grew as the child glanced around nervously. “Listen, kid, you could get into some serious trouble for sneaking in here. Do you know that?” He scoffed. “Hell, do you even know the situation you’re in right now? Let me tell it to you straight. If you don’t--”

“Lucille!” Arden was cut off by a shout behind him. He whipped around to see a short, wizened old fae hobbling down the hall as fast as he could with his gnarled wooden cane. “Oh, Lucille, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” The old man pushed past Arden towards the child, who bore a very confused expression.

“Duke Eira,” Arden began, cautiously. “You know this--?”

“You needn’t worry, young man,” Eira chuckled and clasped the child on the shoulder. He was nearly as tall as they were. “This is my niece Lucille. Lucy is quite the feisty young, uh..” He looked them over a moment. “Child. Yes, quite adventurous, wouldn’t you say so, dear?”

The child said nothing, merely looked at him, expressionless. Their gaze shifted to Arden, but the Duke had already continued. “Not much for talking, either! Well, we’d better be on our way, Lord Llwynogod. I’m sure you have other business to attend to, as well,” He smiled beneath his beard. “Farewell. Nice talking to you.”

Arden watched the two pass by him, brows furrowed. “Yes. Goodbye.” Once they were gone up the stairs, he sighed. Well, he thought. It’s no wonder. He is quite the oddball; it’s only natural for at least one of his relatives to be one as well. Shaking his head slightly, he turned to the buffet table and reached for the wine.

- - -

“Quite sorry about that,” Duke Eira sighed, patting the child’s shoulder as they walked down the hall. “It’s just, that young Arden fellow is quite the meanie and it appeared that he was taking his anger out on you. I simply couldn’t just sit around and let that happen, now could I?”

They didn’t respond, marveling at the lush decor of the mansion. The silver gilded ornaments and richly carved furniture were nothing like anything they had ever seen before. Well. Nothing I remember having seen before. Taking their silence as discontent, the old man continued. “Oh, I do hope you’re not upset with me. You aren’t, are you?” The child turned to him, shaking their head. He smiled. “Thank the heavens! Now, where…” He paused, smile fading as he glanced around. “Where are your parents?”

They blinked at him. After a moment’s pause, he straightened himself up slightly. “I see. Well, that’s alright,” As quickly as that his expression turned merry once more. “Just stick by me. I’ll see that no more nobles come to ask you difficult questions or try and bully you. Oh, by the way, what is your name?” He chortled. “Certainly isn’t Lucille, is it? Quite sorry about that. I’m not sure why it’s what first came to mind. A very whimsical sort of name, isn’t it? And very feminine, as well. Not a good fit for you at all.”

The child stopped walking, gaze lingering on a slightly opened door from which beautiful piano music was emanating from. Eira followed their gaze. “Oh, yes, the ballroom. Would you like to go in?” They glanced at him nervously. “Oh, don’t worry. There shouldn’t be any dancing in there tonight. No, tonight is a night of storytelling. Here, let’s go in and snag a couple of seats before the other guests get the idea.”

The Duke opened the door fully and the child gasped. The ballroom was huge, rows of chairs lining the curved walls. Above, multiple glittering chandeliers dangled, casting rays of light down on the room. With the pearly drapery and granite floor, the scene looked altogether ethereal. Sensing their awe, the old man gestured for them to come in and led them both to a small, out-of-the-way staircase which in turn led them up to a little balcony looking out over the room. He lowered himself onto one of the two chairs and smiled at them. “Best seats in the house, in my opinion. Oh--what was I saying?” Carefully, the child took a seat and leaned forwards, scooching their chair forward so they could lean their elbows on the rail. “Ah, yes, tonight’s event. The Telling. Well, not The Telling, but a Telling. I’m sure you know what that is, no?” They gave him a blank look. “It’s an event that happens every so often, usually only with the members of one or two courts -- it’s not until The Telling when all four of us get together -- where various faerie may step up and, well…” He gestured vaguely. “Tell a story. It can be an old story, passed on from generation to generation, told historically at each telling, or a new story, experienced by the faerie themselves. It could be any sort of story, as well. Something comedic, something scary, something informative… You name it.” He reached into a small leather bag hanging off of his belt and began to root around in it. “Me, I like those with a lighter tone, but that’s just a preference. Care for a sweet?” The child glanced at Eira, who held up a small red and white candy. “It’s peppermint. Also a favorite of mine; I like to keep them on me at all times.”

Only hesitating a moment -- they hadn’t snatched nearly as much food earlier as they had hoped too -- they took it and popped it into their mouth. Duke Eira settled his chin into the palm of his hand. “Now, while we’re waiting for the Telling, this whole situation reminds me of something that happened, oh, about ten years ago. There was a party between the Winter and Spring courts, which, mind you, don’t have the best history of ending well, when…”

(MCrown 12/29/19)

[fanmoose12]

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 5/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Hange took one deep breath, then another. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Started counting to ten in her head, only to stumble at three.

Nothing worked. The anger, the frustration, the little voice at the back of her mind, the one that whispered it's all your fault, you should have acted sooner, you should have been better - none of it disappeared.

And the longer she stood there, in the room with a man, who had a hole in his head, who died because of her, the harder it became to ignore it all.

If only she was smarter, if only she was more dedicated, if only she worked harder and didn't run away on dates like a lovesick teenager, all of it could have been evaded. The man, young man with a loving family - a weeping wife and confused children - could have been saved.

If only.

Another deep breath, and Hange reached her tipping point.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed suddenly, kicking the wall next to her so fiercely, the impact of the kick reverberated through her leg.

A moment ago, everyone else in the room had only been sending her quick, nervous glances. Now all of them were staring right at her with unmasked panic and concern.

Great, just great. Seemed like she had once again proven why she was called Crazy Hange.

"Proceed with your work!" she barked at other policemen.

They swiftly turned around, returning to their tasks. Looking for clues, searching for the smallest piece of evidence.

They wouldn't find anything. Not if they were at work.

"Hange," a heavy hand fell on her shoulder, and Hange jerked, whirling around. Erwin was standing behind her, his thick eyebrows furrowed in a concerned expression.

How did he manage to sneak up on her like that? How long was he standing there and she did not notice, too occupied with her tantrum?

"I'm fine," she waved him off, before Erwin could say anything.

"Are you?" his blue eyes stared deeply into hers, making her almost uncomfortable. But if there was anything Hange learnt after ten years of working under Erwin, it was how to endure his captious gaze.

"Just a little frustrated," Hange admitted, knowing Erwin would see right through her anyway. "If I wasn't—"

"No." Erwin spoke resolutely. "None of it was your fault, Hange."

"But Ackermans—"

"We don't even know if it's them."

"Bullshit," Hange hissed, lowering her voice so the others wouldn't hear them. One tantrum was more than enough for today. "No fingerprints, no sign of forced entry, no broken locks on doors or the safe, if it wasn't for the unlucky witness," her eyes darted to the dead man again, her heart growing heavier. "We would never know someone was there."

"It's just a house," Erwin reminded. "A house of a wealthy politician, but still just a house. It's too small of a fish for the Ackermans."

"And yet it was them," Hange argued. "The footprints on the snow," she pointed to the window. "Forensics says they belong to two men - one short, one tall. It fits the description of Ackermans that we have."

"Still," Erwin set his jaw. "We don't know if it's them."

"You might not know. But I do."

Looking at the doubt and disappointed that were etched on Erwin's face made her anger grow. Hange turned away from him, before the volcano inside her erupted.

There was nothing else to do here, they wouldn't find any clues, she was sure of it. But maybe someone else knew something she didn't.

Hange left the master's study, heading to the living room downstairs. The hallways stood empty and, despite the bright lights that illuminated her path, Hange felt a sense of unease settle over her. The farther she moved from the study, the quieter the house became. And when she left behind the chatter of her colleagues, quiet, agonizing sobs filled the silence.

Hange shuddered, as she walked down the stairs. The house sustained a tragedy, it was filled with so much grief it was hard not to be affected by it.

Contrary to the hallways and rooms upstairs, the living room was dark, and the only source light was coming from a fireplace that stood by the northern wall.

Next to it was an armchair, and there sat a woman - still wearing a gorgeous light green gown, she was holding a small girl in her arms.

The woman was crying just moments before Hange had showed up, her cheeks were still wet with tears and her chest raised and fell in rapid succession. She pulled herself together swiftly and efficiently, though, all signs of mourning were gone from her gaze as soon as she locked eyes with Hange.

"Did you find something useful?" she strictly demanded.

The dominance and supremacy were oozing from that woman. The sharp contrast - the expensive dress and the glistening jewels, ruined make-up on a hard, scowling face, a child in her hands, who seemingly didn't realize what had happened, who couldn't yet comprehend that her father wasn't going back, and quiet, desperate wails coming from another room and belonging, Hange guessed, to another child of the family - all of it made her breath hitch.

She wondered if the mother of the family would mind it if she sits down to the armchair that stood next to her.

Of course, she'll mind. She is the wife of an influential politic.

She was a wife of an influential politic, Hange argued with an imaginary Erwin in her head.

She sighed and fell down in that armchair. She didn't care if the grieving widow next to her minded or not. She was so damn exhausted.

"We are working on it," Hange said, taking off her glasses and cleaning them with a sleeve.

"You should work harder," the widow seethed.

Yeah, Hange thought, tell me something I don't know.

"So you have no lead? No idea who could have killed my husband?"

Hange could have told her the truth. She even wanted to. But then she thought of all possible outcomes and... If press found out that she hanged another crime on Ackermans and if they found out that she had the plan to apprehend them and still let an innocent man die... They would have her for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Not something she was actively striving for.

"We're working on it," she repeated, and before the widow could snarl at her some more, Hange took the line of questioning into her own hands. She came here to interrogate, not the other way around. "Did your husband have enemies?"

The woman snorted. "He was a politician. Of course, he had enemies. But there was no one who hated him enough to kill."

Hange nodded. She expected as much.

"Although, there was this girl..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she came and went, visiting his office in all times of day. She even stopped by our house a few times. He had hired her to look for something, I guess. I don't know if she had ever found it."

"Hm".

If it was another case, the one where she didn't already know who the culprit was, Hange would have found that new bit of information intriguing. Promising, even. Alas…

"The last question, and I'll be on my way," Hange promised. "The only thing robbed is the safe. Do you know what was inside?"

The widow looked down, gently stroking the hair of her daughter. "He never told me."

Disappointing, but if Hange played her cards right, just in a few days, they would be able to find it out for themselves.

God, interrogating those Ackermans... That surely would be a blast. Hange was beyond excited at the prospect.

"Thank you for your cooperation," she said, rising to her feet. She fixed her jacket and shirt and gave the woman a curt nod. "If you remember something else or need our help, I left my number at the table in the office. Don't hesitate to call at all times of day. And don't worry," Hange smiled, faintly, tiredly, but smiled. "Your husband will be avenged.”

***

It was his last day in the city. Levi thought he'd be feeling melancholic, nostalgic, plain sad. Instead he felt... nothing. The last night encounter, the glassy eyed, dead man... It had shaken him more than he could have expected.

Maybe, Kenny was right. He was too softhearted.

Maybe, that was the exact reason why he was holding a phone right now, contemplating if he should call her.

He wanted to. Perhaps, he also needed to.

It was his last day in the city, and Levi didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. He didn't want to leave without seeing Hange one last time.

Fuck it, he decided. He was a thief, right? Only natural for him to steal one last moment with Hange.

He opened their last chat.

hey, want to hang out this evening?

He pressed send before the doubt could resurface.

The reply didn't come immediately. He expected just as much. He wanted, hoped that Hange would answer immediately, but that was unrealistic desire. Hange was probably working, and, thanks to him and Kenny, she probably had to deal with even more work than usual.

He didn't expect an immediate answer, so Levi went to the kitchen to brew himself a cup of tea. He then went to his room and started packing his things.

One hour passed, two, three.

No reply.

There was nothing left for him to do - with his suitcase full and apartment clean, he didn't know how to occupy himself.

Sitting in his room and staring at his phone like a loser seemed too pathetic even for him.

He was beginning to contemplate if he should call Hange instead of texting, when his phone screen finally lighted up. He eagerly opened the message.

I'm busy.

He stared at the text for a few moments, not quite sure what to make out of it.

It seemed so cold, so detached. So unlike Hange.

He deserved it, though, he knew he did. Question was - did Hange know it too?

So that was it then. The end of... Whatever he and Hange had.

An almost all consuming sense of hollowness settled in his chest as he came to this realization.

It didn't go according to the scenario he had envisioned in his head. But that's how it went in the end. Hange was busy and he was leaving. There was nothing he could do about it.

Wallowing in self-pity wasn't going to make him feel any better, so Levi forced himself to move. He hid the phone into his pocket and rose to his feet.

He walked out of his room, searching for Kenny.

He wasn't in his own room, packing his things like Levi had told him to. He wasn't in the living room, lazing on a coach with a bottle of beer and cigarette, either.

Instead he was in a kitchen, sitting behind a dining table with legs propped up on chair. Kenny was talking with someone on a phone, a suspicious smile playing on his lips. That smile wasn't the usual malicious or greedy one, no, that one was uncharacteristically pleased. It seemed like whoever he was talking to, Kenny liked them.

That made Levi pause and narrow his eyes, staring intently at his uncle.

"Thanks for the offer, dear, I'll call you back as soon as me and my nephew polish your plan a bit.”

Levi was barely fast enough to catch his jaw. Dear? Plan? The hell Kenny was talking too?

"Levi!" putting the phone down, Kenny turned to him with that weird smile still plastered on his lips. "It's good you're already here. I have great news! I found another job for us!"

An- another job? Levi couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely Kenny couldn't be serious.

"We are leaving the city this night," Levi gritted, boring holes into his uncle. "Did you forget about that?"

"Ah, that," Kenny waved his hand and Levi had to stop himself from breaking that hand. "We have to postpone it a bit. Just one job, and we can leave."

Anger was starting to boil inside him. There was so much of it - remnants of last night's incident, frustration brought to him by Hange's text - that Levi had trouble breathing. He balled his hands into fists, resisting the growing urge to lash out at Kenny.

"You promised," he spoke in a voice so low, so tense it was barely audible. "You promised we would leave after the last job."

"And we fucked it up, didn't we?" Kenny retorted, the smile slipping from his lips. His expression darkened, as he met Levi's scowl squarely. "And if we're going to leave like you keep pushing me to, then we need money, Levi. And this job will provide us with enough to last for a few years."

"You said the same thing about last job," Levi reminded, refusing to back down.

"And I was wrong about that," Kenny rolled his eyes. "But this job isn't from Reiss. It's from someone I trust."

Levi arched an eyebrow doubtfully, and Kenny muttered a curse.

"As much as I can trust someone," he admitted with a sigh. "It's a legit job, and it's fairly easy."

"How easy?"

"We already have a plan of the building, a way to the vault and even a way out."

"And what's the catch?" Levi frowned. "If someone has that much info and opportunities, why ask for our help?"

"Ah," Kenny grinned. "Traute is very smart. Very talented too, but, unfortunately, she is not as good at dealing with safes and locked doors as you are."

"Traute? Who the fuck is that?"

"Oh right, you haven't met her. Traute used to be... a partner of mine," the not so subtle implication and the dreamy look in Kenny's eyes made Levi wince. There was nothing in the world he was less interested in than Kenny's partners. "We had so much fun in the past... During the heists and, you know..."

"I don't, and I don't want to," Levi grumbled. "Get to the point, Kenny. When are you planning to rob the place? We can't stay here for too long."

The weird thing was that, despite his insistency and constant urgency, Kenny didn't even ask why they had to leave, and so swiftly. It left Levi with two possible explanations - either, his uncle knew something too, or, he trusted him enough not to question his motives. Levi wasn't sure which one was more outlandish.

"In two days," Kenny answered. "If we're lucky, we'll be able to get on a plane that very same night. If we're extra lucky," he wiggled his eyebrows. "Traute will agree to go with us."

"In that case, I'd better run to another part of the world."

"It will go smoothly," Kenny rose up, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. "Don't you worry. No surprises this time."

Levi wished he could believe him.

***

"No!" Traute raised her hands as soon as the unhinged detective started approaching her. "No hidden cameras, wires or other stuff. It's too risky."

Kenny, that sly bastard would find them either way, no matter where detective Hange decided hide the devices. Setting a trap on him was already dangerous as it was, they did not need additional hazards.

"I can't just let you go there unsupervised," detective Hange glowered, running a hand through her hair in frustration. Traute almost felt bad for her, she could only imagine how much stress the detective was under. The operation and recent murder, all of it fell onto her and she was already on a verge of breakdown. Traute could see it in her red-rimmed eyes and sagged shoulders. "What guarantee do I have that you won't betray us?"

Traute huffed. The answer to that was laughably obvious. "Because I value my freedom much more than a man I used to rob banks with fifteen years ago. I know it's hard for you," it was hard for her too, trusting someone from police to keep their word. However, detective Hange seemed like a sort of person who wouldn't back out on a promise. That sort of people infatuated Traute, but Hange appeared as an honest, trustworthy person. Maybe, in another life, Traute would have respected that. Or, maybe, Hange Zoe would have irritated her even more. But as it was now, Traute had no choice but to rely on her. And she needed Hange to do the same. She laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it softly. "You have to trust me. It's the only guarantee I can give to you."

"If this fails—" Hange sighed, pushing the hair out of her face. For a second, Traute saw a look of uncertainty on her face, but Hange blinked and it was gone. "This operation can't fail," she declared passionately.

The newfound fire in her eyes was almost inspiring.

Traute found herself smiling at her. "It won't."

"Alright," Hange rubbed her hands together, turning to her desk. "Let's run through the plan one more time. You come to the Ackermans and..."

"I show them the blueprints you gave me."

"Right," Hange nodded, satisfied. "And then what do you say..."

"I say..."

***

"This entrance will be left unguarded," Traute tapped her finger against the small dot on a drawing. "You two can sneak in and then..."

"And how do you know that it will be unguarded?"

Traute huffed, rising her gaze from the blueprints. Although, considering the height of Kenny's nephew, she didn't need to raise it too high. He was as short as he was irritating. Traute now knew why Kenny never introduced them. Kenny was an asshole, who could backstab you seemingly at the smallest whim, but, at least, talking with him was pleasant. The same, unfortunately, couldn't be said for his nephew. It was the fifth time he had interrupted her in the last ten minutes. Calling him annoying was starting to become an understatement.

"Levi, give Traute a break," Kenny cut in. "She knows what she's doing, believe me."

This didn't seem to placate Levi. "I just want to know what I'm getting myself into."

Jesus. And she thought Kenny was too suspicious.

"Go on, dear," Kenny urged. "Don't mind my nephew, he still hasn't learnt his manners."

"Then you move to this hallway," Traute continued, ignoring Levi's glare she felt at the back of her head. She couldn't wait until this goddamned mission would be over. She'd be ecstatic to see him behind bars. "It leads right to the vault..."

"And what can we steal from museum's vault? Don't they put everything valuable on display?"

God, another interruption and Traute would throttle the annoying midget.

"They don't always put originals in there," she gritted through her teeth, showing him the glare of her own. "And if you take a painting or two from that vault, it'll be enough to last you for a lifetime."

"That is," Levi didn't back down. "We find a buyer."

"Oi!" Kenny clasped his back. "Don't embarrass me, Levi! Of course, Traute already found a buyer, that's how these things are always done," he turned to Traute then, looking her up and down. "You found someone already, right?"

"Of course," Traute nodded, hiding a smile that threatened to break her face at just the thought of their so called buyer. Would serve the two assholes well, for all the frustration they were causing her right now. "All you need to do is steal the paintings."

"And you? What are you going to do in the meantime?"

"I'm taking care of security cameras and alarms."

"Hm," was all Levi had uttered, and Traute had never thought that just a short sound could make her go nearly insane with anger.

He surely had a talent.

Kenny looked over the blueprints, scratching his beard. "So those paintings..."

***

"So those paintings would actually be there? The vault won't be empty?" Traute asked, staring at Hange in surprise. That seemed like an unnecessary risk. Should anything go awry...

"We have to catch them red-handed, remember? But we won't put originals in here. Just something that could be mistaken for them in the dark."

That part could easily backfire too. Of course, detective Hange had already mentioned the dark room, and that would undoubtedly make identifying the paintings a lot harder, but still... Kenny was insanely good at that kind of stuff. It was natural, of course, considering how many years he had spent in this line of job.

"They could realize it's a forgery," Trautedecided to voice her doubts.

"They could," Hange agreed. "But if something goes wrong and they manage to escape with original paintings..." she dropped her head into her hands, letting out a quiet whine. "Dawk will have my head. All brass would have my head, press would have my head, even Erwin..." she shuddered. "Even he would have my head."

"Alright," Traute nodded, more than a little disturbed by detective's shaking shoulders. "Should we move on?"

"Yes!" Hange exclaimed, way too loudly. She raised her head and the almost manic look in her eyes made Traute even more alarmed. She wanted to ask if maybe they should take a break, detective Hange looked like she really needed it, but she started talking before Trautecould even open her mouth.

"You have the most important job, Caven," Hange said, putting hands on her shoulders and staring straight into her eyes. "We can’t put a police officer in the security control room, that could raise Ackermans’ suspicion, so you’ll be the one monitoring their movement. You need to watch Ackermans closely, and you have to make sure they use the exit we'll be patrolling."

"We? How many 'we' are you talking about?"

"Not much. We can't risk attracting attention, so we can't use a lot of people. The team will consist of me and a couple of other officers."

That was a smart choice. A choice that maybe would lead to success of the whole operation.

Once Kenny told her that cops smelled so bad he could actually feel their stench from miles away. Traute wasn't very keen on finding out if it was a particularly bad attempt at humor or another talent of his.

"Once we catch them and apprehend them, your sentence will be cut in half. And that's it."

***

"That's it?" Levi scrunched his nose. "Sounds—"

"Amazing!" Kenny guffawed, shooting Traute a brilliant smile. "Thank you for this offer, dear. You won't regret it."

Oh. Traute was most certain she would not.

"If you want to know more, you can ask—"

"No need," Kenny assured her. "We've heard everything we needed to."

Good. Because Traute told them everything she knew. Should they ask for more details, she'd have to resort to lying and improvising. And that could not only damage their operation, it could also raise Kenny's suspicion. Traute was good at lying, and Kenny... Kenny was good at seeing through everyone's lies.

She grabbed her purse, eager to get out of here as quickly as possible. "I'll see you..."

"In two days," Kenny promised. "We'll be there, don't worry. We're not stupid enough to let this opportunity slide. Well," he grinned. "Levi here might be a little stupid—"

"Oi!" Levi hissed, looking just like an angry cat.

Traute rolled her eyes, watching the two men bicker. She was more than done with them.

"In two days," she reminded them.

She wasn't sure if they heard her, and, frankly, she didn't care. She knew they would show up. Kenny wasn't a man to pass a good job.

She walked out of the hotel room Kenny had rented, because of course the distrustful jerk couldn't let her see their apartment, and exhaled in relief.

The first part was done.

She took out her phone, typing a short message for detective Hange.

The trap is set ***

His eyes were already hurting, watering because of his intense stare, but Levi persevered, looking over the blueprints once again. There got to be something he missed. Some minor detail, a small, miniscule catch.

There got to be. This theft couldn't possibly be so easy.

Several extremely expensive paintings just lying around in some vault? Without any guards to protect them?

Either the museum stuff was incredible careless and unprofessional, or... Traute was lying to them.

It was the most plausible explanation, and yet... Kenny seemed to believe her. He trusted her, as much, of course, as Kenny could trust someone who wasn't himself.

And if Kenny, the most distrustful bastard in the world, trusted someone, it meant that the person had already proved themselves to him ten times over.

However... However Levi still felt uneasy.

And so he continued staring at the blueprints, searching for something that most probably wasn't even there.

He studied the image so intently, he missed the moment when the screen of his phone that lied next to him lightened up. It lightened up a second time, two minutes later, but Levi paid no attention to it either. It was only when it started ringing, startling him, that he finally looked down at it.

He blinked a few times, not quite believing what he was seeing.

Hange was calling him.

He rushed to take the device in his hands, his finger trembling as he accepted the call.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice shaking so slightly.

"Hi!" Hange replied, sounding a little out of breath. Levi wondered what was she doing and where was she. He heard some noises, cars honking and wind blowing. Was she outside? "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Levi glanced at the clock hanging on a wall beside him. It was almost two in the morning. He didn't even notice.

"No. I haven't gone to bed yet."

"You should," Hange said, and Levi closed his eyes, picturing her slightly frowning face. She probably narrowed her eyes and pushed her glasses up in attempt to look more serious. "It's late. Don't you have work in a morning? Where is it that you're working, by the way? I don't quite remember..."

Because Levi had never told her.

He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "I'm working in accounting."

"Oh right! Is it exciting?"

Levi's lips twitched, as he fought back a smile. "It has its moments."

"Good! It's important to love your work!"

Levi snorted. "You have way too much energy for two am, you know that?"

"Sorry," Hange laughed. "It's been a long day, or a week..." she trailed off. "Perhaps even a month... Sorry for calling so spontaneously, I just... wanted to hear your voice, I guess."

God, what a nuisance. Making his heart skip a beat just with a couple of words. Either Hange possessed some kind of super power or... he was just that pathetic.

He didn't realize it, but he missed the sound of her voice too. And her face, her lively expressions, radiant smiles. Maybe, they could...

"Hey, Levi," Hange brought him back to present. "Can we facetime?"

So now she was a mind reader as well?

“Alright," he said, trying not to sound too eager. Hange didn't need to know just how much he enjoyed her company.

"Great! I'll call you a back in a moment!"

Levi used that moment to check himself in the mirror behind him. His blue hoodie seemed good enough, not too wrinkled and without any stains. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it, and forced himself to relax. It was just a simple phone call, nothing to lose his mind over.

In the next second, his phone started ringing again, and he almost smiled.

Nothing to lose his mind over, he reminded himself as he accepted the call. He raised the phone to his face and went to sit on the bed.

Hange waved at him, grinning goofily. Her face was barely illuminated by a phone screen, but even in the darkness Levi saw purple circles under her eyes. She looked utterly exhausted, and yet... inexplicably relaxed.

"It's good to see your face," Hange said, forcing his heart to skip yet another beat. "Wanna see something cool?" without waiting for reply, she turned the phone around, showing Levi a view of a street below from her balcony window. Hange lived in the middle of a city, a few blocks away from him. The night city was splendid - bright, vibrant, alive. The lights poured from every side and even now, in the middle of the night, the streets down below were full of life.

He was going to miss this.

Although, as much as he appreciated the view of the city he grew in, Hange's face was far more interesting for him right now.

Not knowing how to ask her to turn the camera back without sounding utterly moronic, Levi let out a tch sound, and grunted, "get inside. You're going to catch a cold in weather like this."

"Nah," Hange's face was finally staring back at him. "I've got this to keep me warm," she pointed to a blanket that was sliding down her shoulder, showing her sharp clavicle. "And this!" she lifted a bottle of beer, drinking from it.

Levi rolled his eyes. "It's not very professional to get drunk in the middle of a week, you know."

"I won't get drunk on one beer," Hange argued, wiping her mouth. "Besides... It helps to calm my nerves. I have a big day tomorrow..."

He was going to have a big day, or, rather night tomorrow too.

Fuck it, Levi decided, getting to his feet.

"I'll be back," he told Hange and hurriedly left the room, confused 'heys' following after him.

He returned a moment later, holding a bottle of beer of his own.

"Cheers," he grunted, opening it and taking a swing.

"It's not very professional to get drunk in the middle of a week, you know," Hange mimicked his voice, accompanying it by a horrible parody of his face expression.

"It's your damn influence," he shot back.

As he took another swing, all tension that was building inside his shoulders ever since their last theft disappeared. Perhaps, Hange was right and beer did help. Or, perhaps, it was Hange's bright smile that relaxed him so.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Hange asked.

Hopefully, leaving this city behind, Levi thought, but decided not to voice his thoughts. Instead, he shrugged, mumbling, "dunno yet."

"There is a skating rink, it's right outside the precinct," Hange smiled dreamily, playing with her hair. "I have been staring at it for days now, people are having so much fun! Do you want to go?"

"I—"

"It's okay if you don't!" Hange quickly assured. "We could go to some other place or maybe not go anywhere at all..."

"I don't know how to skate," Levi mumbled, embarrassed all of a sudden. "Never learnt."

"I can teach you!" Hange offered, the sparkle in her eyes burning so brightly, Levi could see it through a phone screen. "We would probably end up with dozens of bruises, but it'll be fun, I swear! And then we could order hot cocoa, warm up at a cozy cafe..."

None of it was going to happen, but it was two in the morning and the beer left a bitter taste in his mouth, making him feel snug and comfortable, so he let himself indulge in that little fantasy Hange had created. He imagined a skating rink, illuminated by soft, pretty colors. He tried to imagine how skates would feel on his legs, how they would make him slightly taller. And he imagined Hange's hand in his, her deep melodic voice explaining him how to move his legs and keep his balance. He could almost hear her laughter and feel the cold sipping through the back of his pants as both of them came tumbling down in a heap of limbs.

"I see you like the idea," Hange gently teased, taking note of the content expression on his face. "Then it's settled!"

"Alright..." Levi murmured, washing the feeling of regret with another gulp of beer.

Maybe, he shouldn't have been so adamant about leaving.

No. Levi instantly stopped himself. They had to leave. Because if they wouldn't, Hange would find out who he really was.

Hange liked him, but not the real him. She liked Levi the accountant. If she knew Levi Ackerman, the famous thief, she'd hate him.

And he didn't wish for that to happen.

"It's getting late," he noted, the clock on his phone showing almost three in the morning. "We should go to bed."

"Yeah," Hange mumbled, yawning. She finished her beer and gave Levi a soft, sleepy smile. "Thanks for talking with me, Levi. I appreciate it. And..." she paused, picking at the wrapping on the bottle. "I just wanna say... I'm glad life threw us together."

"It wasn't life," Levi scoffed. "You fell down on me."

Hange chuckled, scratching her neck in embarrassment. "Maybe, it was fate... Maybe, some deity wanted me to fall for you..."

"That was terrible," Levi grunted, making Hange giggle. "Go to sleep already."

"I'll call you soon, alright?"

"I'll be waiting," Levi promised.

Hange smiled one last time and disconnected.

Levi stared at the now black screen for another moment.

He broke out of his trance with a low curse. He was getting too pathetic for his own good.

He finished the beer and took off his hoodie, heading to the bathroom.

Hange was right. A big day was ahead of him.

***

“Traute is already in the control room,” Kenny informed. “If anything goes wrong, she’ll tell us.”

Levi nodded, hoping than nothing would go wrong this time. For now, it seemed like it truly wouldn’t.

Just as Traute had promised, getting inside was almost laughably easy. No guards, no alarm, the backdoor wasn't even locked.

"Stealing is becoming too easy, eh, Levi?"

He leveled Kenny with a long, hard look.

It was a good thing Levi made them wear a mask. There didn't seem to be any security cameras - at least, he couldn't see any that were still functional, it seemed like Traute had held her end of the bargain. But Levi didn't allow himself to relax.

Relax, and they could fuck up again.

However, masks gave him at least some semblance of comfort. They were cheap, ridiculous things bought by Kenny at a carnival during one of his drunken adventures. They did their job, though. If there was a hidden camera somewhere or they happen upon a lonely guard or late working employee, no one would see their faces.

Perhaps, they would be able to avoid another senseless murder then.

They quietly moved through the hallway, and as they did so, it was hard for Levi not to gawk at his surroundings. A painting here, an antique tapestry and extravagant vase there. He was honestly surprised Kenny hadn't started grabbing everything he could. If so much stuff was located there, in a dark-lit hallway, Levi could only imagine what was waiting for them in the vault.

He turned around the corner, coming to a stop in front of the stairway. Everything was just as Caven had planned it. And yet... the worry lingered.

"We don't have all night, brat," Kenny gave him a rough push.

Levi sent him another dark glare, but complied, starting his descent. The vault was there, at the end of the stairway.

Grab the paintings, and he was free. They could leave the city, save themselves.

Leave everything behind.

Levi gulped, swallowing a lump that appeared out of nowhere. Get yourself together, he scolded himself, taking another step down.

Soon the door to the vault was right in front of them. Not wasting another second on doubts and worries, Levi dropped to his knees, taking out his instruments and starting to work on a lock.

"There," just after a few seconds, the lock was dealt with. Levi stood up, pushing the door open. "Let's get this over with."

***

The street seemed so empty. No car passing by, no peculiar pedestrian or even a stray cat, only a bright red light of some bar's signboard that kept flicking on and off. Just like the street they parked at, the bar appeared to be devoid of any life.

Hange scoffed, jerkily moving a lock of hair from her face. She never thought she would say it about one of the most important missions in her life, but she felt bored.

She wanted the action to start already. Wanted to rush in there, catch the damned Ackermans in the act and then revel in the shock and fear in their eyes.

The satisfaction Hange would get out of this surely would be more than enough to overshadow all frustration the thieves had caused her.

"Hange," Mike shook her shoulder. "Caven had just given a signal. The Ackermans are inside the vault."

Finally!

Without wasting any second, Hange opened the door of the police van and jumped out on a street. She heard Erwin's exasperated curse but didn't stop to listen to him, rushing to the entrance of the museum.

Finally, finally, finally.

A whole year of hard work, of everyone doubting her and telling her to just quit, and now she was there, had Ackermans trapped just like she had planned to.

Hange smiled as she felt other footsteps joining hers, the rest of the team already on the move.

No one had believed in her, not even Erwin, but Hange had proved them all wrong. She had done the impossible, caught thieves who were considered untraceable and invisible.

All Hange had to do now was claim her reward.

***

The vault was very different from what Levi had envisioned for himself. He imagined something big, grand, something appropriate for the spectacular art the room was holding.

But in reality, he and Kenny entered a dark, narrow and dusty room. It looked more like a closet than an actual vault.

Kenny didn't waste time surveying his surroundings. He dived in, taking the first thing he happened upon. He unfolded the parch of paper, tilting his head to study it more closely.

"Flashlight, Levi," he demanded, outstretching his hand.

Levi handed it to him, getting to work himself. He wasn't nearly as skilled in art as Kenny was, but seven times out of ten he could distinguish original from forgery just as easily.

"Seems legit," Kenny muttered. "Looks like Traute didn't lie."

Levi paused for a second, turning to stare at his uncle. Here he was, tormenting himself with doubts, and Kenny wasn't so sure about their alliance either?

"You didn't trust her?"

Kenny barked a short laugh. "I wouldn't still be alive, kid, if I trusted people left and right."

"Then why have you agreed to the job?"

"Because," he shrugged. "I wouldn't still be doing it if it wasn't for greed."

Levi scoffed. Of course. What other answer could he expect from Kenny.

"We'll use other exit, by the way," Kenny remarked, shooting a quick glance at Levi. "You studied the blueprints well, right?"

"As best as I could."

He could close his eyes and see it clearly, all entrances and exits, all dead ends and turns. Seemed like feeding Levi's suspicion was a part of Kenny's plan as well. Scheming bastard.

"Then come up with a different route. And quickly," Kenny shoved another folded painting into his backpack. "We're almost done here."

Levi started thinking, turning the imaginary blueprint in his head this and that way. There was only one way to exit the vault. The stairway was inevitable too. But once they reached the hallway, they could take another turn and head to the front entrance. It was a bold move, too bold, perhaps, they didn't know if guards were stationed in other parts of museum or not, but it was the only way.

"Alright," Kenny seized his shoulder. "We're done here. Are you ready?"

Levi nodded and immediately started moving, leading Kenny out.

They left the vault and the stairway was empty. Still, Levi stopped for a second, listening closely. The museum above them seemed silent. Feeling a little more confident, he quickened his pace, taking two steps at a time.

As he reached the top of the stairway, he drew a deep breath, walked into the hallway—

And came face to face with Hange.

*** Hange doubled down, taking one shallow breath after another. Perhaps, Erwin was right in scolding her. She was a little too excited to get there. And now she was completely out of breath.

That won't do, she thought. She didn't want to face Ackermans panting and sweaty.

Hange straightened out, pushed her glasses up and fixed her shirt and coat.

She glanced over her back, giving Mike and Erwin a slight node. They nodded back and Hange took out her gun. The recent murder had proved that Ackermans were always armed and they didn't hesitate to kill. She hoped she wouldn’t need the gun, but just in case…

Hange took another deep breath and prepared to rush in.

However, before she could take a single step forward, two figures appeared right in front of her.

She grinned triumphantly.

Seemed like luck was on her side tonight. Ackermans came straight into her arms.

***

Levi didn't know how long he would have stayed there, staring into Hange's eyes, if it weren't for Kenny's hand that grasped his sleeve and pulled him forward.

"Shit!" Kenny shouted, as they started running.

The rest of Hange's team - Levi didn't know how many there were, there was no time to stop and glance back - followed after them.

Hange was on the front, hot on their heels.

Damn her long legs, Levi cursed.

So Traute had betrayed them, sold them out to police. She was going to pay for that, Levi could clearly see it in the way Kenny gritted his teeth.

"Stop!" Hange shouted. "You're surrounded, there's no point in running!"

"We'll see about that," Kenny muttered and pushed Levi sideways, forcing him to take a sharp turn.

They could have split up, perhaps, it would slow down their pursuers, but Levi knew it was pointless. There were too many of them to create an efficient diversion.

"Do you remember the blueprint?" Kenny breathlessly asked.

Levi nodded, catching his gaze behind the ridiculous mask.

"Good. Then I have an idea. We need to lose at least some of our tail first. Make them stumble."

Levi nodded again, and suddenly took a turn, running to the door. It was another risky move, the door could have been closed, but, thankfully, their luck haven't died out yet. Levi tumbled inside the dark room. If he remembered correctly, there had to be another door at the other side. He located it fairly quickly and headed there. He opened the door, waited for Kenny to get through and pushed it closed, careful not to look behind his back. If he met Hange's eyes again, he wasn't sure he would be able to look away.

He ran into the hallway and took the first door to his left. He kept pushing forward, leaving one room and going into another. Soon the sound of footsteps that followed after them had decreased. However, someone was still pursuing them. Levi prayed it wasn't Hange.

"That will do nicely," Kenny grinned as they appeared in the middle of another long hallway. "Good job, Levi," he threw, coming to a sudden stop.

Levi's heart stopped as he saw Kenny take out his gun. His knees nearly gave out beneath him as he saw Hange appear at the end of the same hallway.

Kenny's hand shot up, aiming the gun right at her head.

Kenny never missed, Levi knew that. He was a witness to his uncle's incredible skills just days ago. The light fading from that man's eyes, his face forever etched in the expression of fear, Levi could never forget that.

He couldn't let Hange suffer the same fate.

He couldn't and— he wouldn't.

It all happened in a span of a heartbeat.

Levi looked up, saw Kenny's finger at the trigger, saw it move and curl and—

And just before he could pull it, just before the shot rang, Levi launched himself at Kenny, pushing the arm with a gun down.

The shot still rang, Hange still screamed. She swayed, falling against the wall—

Kenny never missed, and this time wasn't an exception. But it was as close to exception, as one could get. He hadn't shot her head or her heart. Hange was clutching her shoulder, her already bloodied shoulder, the sight of which made Levi almost ran to her, made his hands tremble with desire to help.

It took all of his willpower to stay put.

Hange was alive, wounded, but still alive. Levi could breathe again.

As Levi was watching Hange, Kenny was watching him. Levi could feel the weight of his gaze, burning into the side of his head. He tore his eyes away from Hange, staring back at his uncle. Kenny's eyes were full of anger and incomprehension. Before he could reach any conclusion, though, they heard approaching footsteps.

"Hurry up," Kenny curled his hand around Levi's forearm, roughly yanking him forward.

Levi stole another glance at Hange, his heart breaking as he saw her slowly pushing herself up, determination pushing her forward despite the injury.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed and left her behind.

[chercher0w0]

The Book of Life

Why I read this Gotta finish up the trilogy. Also, after 2 whole books I’m really really really curious what actually is in the Book of Life. They got SO CLOSE to it in Shadow of Night. But of course, the final reveal would be in the final book of the trilogy. Of course.

Rating: 4/5

And we’re back to an urban fantasy again. Skewing more to the fantasy side at the beginning as Diana gets used to the powers she learnt to control in the past, then moving more towards the realism aspect of the plot as Matthew and Chris uncover the genetics behind all the creatures, particularly the creature chromosome that separates creatures from ordinary humans. I don’t have a particular bias towards one or the other. Now that I’ve finished the whole trilogy, I can say that both the plot and the romance between Diana and Matthew interested me equally throughout.  As someone who used to be really interested in biology, the world of this series as a whole is really fascinating, to tie in supernatural abilities with genetics and mutations.

Since the book opened with the ghosts, I was hoping there would be some kind of big reunion between Diana and Philippe, Emily, and Rebecca, since she’s the only one who can see ghosts. But alas :(  At least the last glimpse of Philippe at the end was a nice bit of closure, even if it did come with the burden of restoring the godesses’ arrow to Diana. Though since the Goddess wants Diana to continue meting out justice on her behalf, I’m curious how long Diana’s lifespan will be. Because if she still has a normal human lifespan, Matthew’s future is kind of depressing. Even his own children and their children only live a few hundred years, compared to his immortatlity. :(

I honestly thought the blood rage thing was just...a bit of extra anger for a creature that was already more of a wild animal than human. The fact that it’s an affliction to be put down, akin to doing something bad enough to cause a witch to be spellbound, was an interesting conflict for the book. Also explains why Matthew turned to the study of genetics, to find a way to cure his hereditary disease. It’s kind of sad that in the end, there’s not really a cure since it’s not caused by a certain gene but the activation of several different ones.  He has really come a long way throughout the series. Though my first impression of him is coloured by watching the TV series first, reading through the trilogy a second time for these book reviews has reminded me how posessive and destructive Matthew can be, both for himself and others. To see him fully embrace being the head of the family, the patriach of his own scion, instead of a creature in the shadows, wielded as a weapon for his blood rage was so satisfying. It’s nice to see him settled at the end with his family, at peace. 

Baldwin is a conflicting character. Since my first introduction to him was through the series, my impression was always someone who did not get along with Matthew but in the end always had the best interests of the family at heart. He starts out the series so antagonistic, honestly did a double take and had to reread when his first appearance in this book is to interrupt Diana and Matthew’s private bedroom time. I mean...wow. And yet, in the end, he’s the one who approves of Diana as an official de Clermont/child of Philippe. And he relinquishes the de Clermont seat in the Congregation to her. I...don’t know how to feel about him. Though it will be interesting to see what they do with that in Season 3. The show has a tendency to tone down the actions of the “good” characters, since you would still want the audience to root for them.  

Though this series fully embraces the technologies of the current time, what with all the genetics research, the part about Ysabeau’s imprisonment and manipulation of Gerbert through the internet and social media still felt kind of jarring. For a creature who has survived so many centuries, to be brought down by the manipulation of modern technology felt weird. But also some sort of justice in a way. Gerbert might live in the present and embrace modern technology, but he is mostly still stuck in the old ways and doesn’t fully understand what these things can do. He expects it to be just another tool at his command, not suspecting the ways it can be used against him because he doesn’t fully understand what it is.  Also...the amount of daily alarms Ysabeau has. I...is the phone ever silent? 

On my first read through, I was kind of disappointed at how little they showed of the words in the Book of Life. Though on a reread, what little is revealed does kind of tie in with what they find out later, that genetically all the creatures are the same species, just different races, as well as the explanation of why only certain witches and vampires are able to produce children. I’m still really curious about the origins of the book though, if every page has as much history as the one about the witch whose skin was used. And who compiled and made it in the first place, as well as the enchantment that makes it an actual Book of Life, a record of all creatures. 

Honestly, overall where the plot lead was rather unpredictable, which I enjoy in a book. At it’s core, it is still a star-crossed lovers romance, but I enjoy the equal attention to the world building and plot that separates it from being a typical romance novel. 

The part where they reveal that creatures exist to normal humans though. So refreshing to see that happen in a fantasy novel for once. Probably inevitable in this day and age where in certain media, even superheroes are shedding the pretense of a secret identity. And in a generation that has grown up with so much supernatural media, it’s not unthinkable that the fact that creatures exist in the world would be embraced. Especially when it’s to people who already know the characters. 

I’m already halfway through Time’s Convert but I really do look forward to any other books in this world that may be written in the future, though to be honest, I would always love if there was at least some bishmont in them. It is still the main reason I started this series.

Re-readability Yes.

[homiegeesus]

The Year of Magical Thinking, Ch.1

Summary:  Francis Sinclair believed Arthur Morgan had not finished living. In a second chance at life, Arthur discovers what it means to love himself.

At the edge of a precipice and nowhere to run, Arthur concedes defeat. In an extraordinary turn of events, he is sent through the ether to another time where his path crosses with a group not too unlike his own family. After discovering the fate of those he loved before, he races to find a way back. But what if he realizes that there is something worth staying for in this new world? Can two people separated by nearly a hundred and twenty years of living find their happily ever after?

________________________________________________________

So…Super nervous posting this. It’s the first time in a few years that I’ve written anything (the first fandom-centered work I’ve written since like 2005 lmao; Gilmore Girls anybody?) and it shows. But, alas, I’ve been incredibly inspired by RDR2’s story and the way other authors on Tumblr & AO3 have expanded on it. Shit guys, dunno if anybody is even going to read this, but I’ll push it out of the nest and into the world regardless. This may be the stupidest idea ever, but whatever, I’ll let y’all decide. A warning: This is not beta'd, but I reread it like 50 times. Still, I apologize for my terrible grammar. And, yes, I have shamelessly lifted the title from Joan Didion’s fantastic book. It just fit. So. Well. I’m terribly uncreative, so please forgive me Joan. Also, my only knowledge of 1920s-speak comes from F. Scott Fitzgerald, Clara Bow movies and Googling. I don’t know if anybody ever really said ‘old sport’, but what the hell. On another note, there will be a few things taken from the GTA universe, but it's minimal (San Andreas/Liberty City do not exist). I'll be explaining through a secondary character how states in RDR became the modern states that we know. And finally, constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated!! Anyway, here's Wonderwall...

AO3 Link

Warning: This is me working through my “stuff” vicariously through Arthur Morgan and co.

The Year of Magical Thinking

Chapter 1 - Prologue (or A Dream of Arthur Morgan)

Roanoke Valley - 1899 Peace settled over Arthur Morgan like a warm embrace; the rattle in his lungs that had invaded his every waking moment these past few months now a distant feeling. With each labored rise and fall of his chest, drowning in his own blood, he spared but one final thought.

It’s over. It’s finally over and death would soon come for him.

This wasn’t how Arthur had envisioned his death. No, he had always thought he would die with a bullet in his chest and cordite in his lungs. Not at the behest of disease and treachery. Such a shame that wisdom should only come to him on his deathbed. If only…

That’s what it came down to, that’s what it always comes down to. If only, if only, if only, his mind repeated nonstop. Regrets, Arthur had plenty of them. For months, he had been sinking so far in regrets, he could scarcely breathe. What could he have done differently that would have given a better outcome? How had he not seen Dutch’s descent into mania? Arthur supposed that maybe he had seen but chose to ignore, because when had Dutch ever led them astray.

Micah. Arthur had so many regrets about that goddamn snake. Micah had attached to Dutch like a leech and sucked every drop of the very lifeblood of the gang. He had played on all of Dutch’s insecurities and weaknesses. Arthur’s eyes were finally open, for all the good it did him now. But that rat was only one of the last in a long line of regrets he would have in his life. Arthur’s craving for penance started long before Micah came along.

Maybe Arthur himself was the leech, a disease – an infection. Death and pestilence followed him around like an acrid smell. It was something that seeped into his skin, clawed its way inside like a cancer until it reached his soul, the very center of him. Not happy with just him, it carried through the air and infected everything he had ever cared for or loved. His mother, Hosea, Mary, Eliza and –

Isaac. Arthur still had trouble even saying his name, so wrapped up in guilt as he was. During the rare times he found himself alone, thoughts of the little towheaded boy would invade his mind. Being rightly familiar with cowardice, he would press the tips of his fingers to his skull until they felt like ten dull knives, as if to physically rid himself of the painful memories. Of course, this rarely worked and he was resigned to suffer through the punishment he subconsciously forced upon himself. And now, as he laid on the jagged gravel of this cliff, he finally welcomed the comforting mental images of his son.

Feeling the weight of a life lived recklessly lift slowly from his mind, Arthur turned his head towards the setting sun, his final thought being: I gave it all I had.

___________________________________________________________

Francis Sinclair had one rule:

Don’t mess with the timeline.

It had seemed so easy in its simplicity. In the beginning, that is, until it wasn’t. He hadn’t counted on Arthur Morgan. For a bad man, he sure did a lot of good. Probably more than he realized. When Francis had asked the outlaw to find the futuristic rock carvings, he hadn’t expected Mr. Morgan to deliver. Especially not in a matter of months. Chronos himself probably would have found the task trying.

So, in 1932, when Francis had read about the fate of the Van der Linde Gang in a new hit novel by J. R. Miller, he learned that the coppers had closed in on his ole friend, and well, that just wouldn’t do. He understood that he wouldn’t be able to find Mr. Morgan in the time needed to prevent the most unfortunate aspects of his fate, but he could prevent the ultimate one. What he didn’t expect was to find the man with one arm in a Chicago Overcoat.

Francis pulled the horse-drawn buckboard to a stop in a clearing next to the crag and hopped down. The air was calm and filled with the late evening chatter of the local fauna. He jogged the incline of the rock until a recumbent figure came into his field of view. It wasn’t until he was a few feet away that he noticed the extent of the man’s injuries. His blue shirt stained brown, gone was the desperado’s worn black leather hat, in its place a matte of blood and dirt in his previously honeyed blonde hair. His once handsome face gaunt, his ashen skin a mess of bruises and cuts. One eye was swollen shut, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. Was he even breathing? Francis was running out of time.

“You’ve a lot more living yet, old sport,” the red-head crouched down and placed two fingers against the outlaw’s throat finding a slow, but steady pulse. “Yes, a lot more.”

Mr. Morgan groaned.

“Come on, we gotta find a way to get ya on your gams, ya follow?” Francis grabbed the man’s arm and tried to pull him into a sitting position. Morgan was having none of that.

“Let me– let me die, damn you,” he wheezed on an exhale.

“No, no you poor little bunny. Can’t do that. Now up you go,” Francis pulled once more, this time succeeding.

In a broken voice, Arthur pleaded, “Goddamnit, jus’ let me alone. ‘M so damn tired.” When he finally raised his head and opened his good eye, a look of recognition passed over his face. “You– “

“Yes, me. Now, let’s scoot. You don’t have much time, Mr. Morgan.” Francis placed the man’s arm over his own shoulders, Arthur allowing himself to be hauled into standing.

Arthur weakly protested, “’M dyin’, Mr. Sinclair. I’m a dead man. Ain’t no use in helpin’ a dead man.”

Francis just laughed and replied with the strain of half-carrying a grown man in his voice, “No, Mr. Morgan. As I said before, you’ve a lot more living left to do. Now, conserve your strength.”

Likely out of exhaustion, the outlaw did not say another word. They barely made it to the buckboard before Arthur collapsed. Just before Morgan would have fallen to his knees, Francis used the momentum to haul the man into the back of the wagon. As Francis grabbed each of the larger man’s legs to swing into the bed, Arthur’s breath rasped in his throat, “Why you doin’ this?”

Francis regarded him for a moment before saying, “Because you helped me get outta a pretty big pickle.” He paused, then smiled, “And because you’re terribly important to a lot of people, baby.” And with that, Francis climbed back up to the seat and flicked the reigns.

___________________________________________________________

Well, shit.

Arthur’s plan to die in peace had been upended by a curious red-haired fellow in a blue sweater. With no energy to ruminate further, he resolved to die in the bed of this damn wagon. As the cart trudged backed to the main road, Arthur’s worn body felt every mound and stone the wheels rolled over. Finally, on a relatively smooth surface, he allowed himself to observe his surroundings. Tall pines and hemlock blurred into each other passing in his periphery as he stared at the spattering of stars visible through dark clouds. The sun had officially set in the last thirty minutes and all that remained a reddish orange hue near the horizon. Above him though, what a sight indeed. Bright stars twinkled along the Milky Way, like God himself spread them with a paintbrush across the sky.

Why had he taken all this for granted? So many nights spent under these same stars, but Arthur never really paid them any mind except for navigation. How many years before the artificial lights of the cities overpowered their natural beauty? Unable to ponder any longer and continue the fight to stay conscious, Arthur resigned to close his eyes and place complete trust in the relative stranger.

What felt like moments later, or hours Arthur was unsure, cold droplets of water forced his good eye open once again. A murmur of thunder rolled in the distance. Mr. Sinclair finally turned around, his voice deafened by the creaking of the wagon and heavy breathing of the horses.

“We are just a minute away. I think we’ll make it before the worst of the storm hits.”

But like an omen fitting of this night, Sinclair was wrong. What began as random drops here and there crescendoed into a torrential downpour. The red-haired fellow should have known that hitching his wagon to the outlaw would herald an abundance of bad luck. Unable to shield himself and too tired to care, Arthur welcomed the deluge as if it would wash him away.

Mr. Sinclair halted the horses and hopped down from the buckboard once more. He appeared in Arthur’s line of sight as he unlatched the tailgate, setting down a lantern and grabbing the larger man’s arms in another tug-of-war to get him sitting. Water poured down his face and converged at his chin.

“We just have to ankle about ten feet to the opening,” Sinclair hollered over the rain. “You ready?”

At this point, Arthur would have conjured up his most intimidating mien but there was no energy for that. “No,” he answered defeated.

Unperturbed, the younger man smiled, “That’s the spirit.”

Grabbing Arthur’s arms, Mr. Sinclair placed one across his shoulders. When he hauled the outlaw into standing position, Arthur’s world tilted. Feeling unable to breathe and so lightheaded, he launched into a series of hacking coughs. Blood splattered against his hand and mixed with the rain, diluting until it turned into a river of pink down his arm. He looked to Sinclair. Wet hair plastered to his forehead; the cold of the rain made the strange man’s curious birthmark stand out all the more against pale skin.

“When you gonna see that I’m already dead?” His weakened voice barely heard above the storm.

The redhead looked at him, “Please, just trust me.”

They began their short journey to wherever it was they were going, walking only yards but feeling like miles. By the time they reached what appeared to be a cave entrance, Arthur’s knees buckled and his vision went black. He would have felt hitting the ground, if he’d been conscious. Coming to seconds later, he became aware of his arms being tugged above his head. Mr. Sinclair was apparently dragging him. Deep down, Arthur briefly admired the man’s grit. However, the sentiment was soon replaced by annoyance and near-agony as the sensation of what felt like an elephant settled atop his chest. In and out of consciousness, Arthur realized they had stopped when Sinclair crossed the threshold to grab the lantern at the mouth of the cave. The red-haired man set the lantern between the outlaw and the cave wall and then perched above his head, grabbing both of his arms by the wrists. Arthur could see the younger man’s mouth moving but could not discern the words, only comprehending ‘listen’ and ‘your hands’.

Sinclair then placed Arthur’s large hands against the cool stone wall. Even in his delirious state, he recognized the carvings he had previously found for the peculiar fellow. He could feel the vibrations of the man’s voice behind him in what felt like a chant, but he still could not determine the words. To Arthur’s astonishment, the outlines in the rock began glowing a mute bluish color. What began as a slight tingling in his fingertips turn into full body experience. Reality dissolved into nothingness and became a pure void. And then –

Everything.

Every single moment in his hard life experienced again but in hundred times the speed. This must be it, Arthur thought. God must be forcing him to relive every chapter of his rotten existence before He banished him to the fiery pits of Hell. Familiar faces began to permeate his view. Arthur tried in vain to reach out at the image of his mother. Beatrice Morgan may have been alive for only a small portion of his life, but he would carry her memory with him forever in the form of a flower at his bedside. Unpleasant memories began to flash as Lyle Morgan pervaded his vision. The son of a bitch had been a vile presence in his young days, a man who Arthur would live in fear of until the moment they finally hanged him. Arrested for larceny, his death hadn’t come soon enough.

And then Hosea appeared, someone Arthur had thought of as more of a father than even Dutch. The man had been convinced by the raven-haired outlaw to take a chance on a scared gangly boy who had just tried to rob their room. Starved and desperate for family, Arthur had latched onto the men soaking up anything they would teach him. And teach him they had.

More memories raced by, and Arthur caught sight of a beautiful brown-haired girl. Mary Gillis, the visage of her still enough to stir his pulse, laughed and blushed like a young woman in love. Even in the inevitability of their parting, Arthur had still carried the hope that they’d one day reunite and ride off into the sunset together. If not for Guarma and the mess that had come from the robbery in St. Denis, that may have been his future. Not the hellfire that awaited his damned soul.

And then, Eliza. A young girl of nineteen, Arthur had found comfort in her embrace in the wake of heartbreak. Intent on forgetting Mary, he foolishly took advantage of a girl’s infatuation and followed her to a room above the saloon where she worked. What had come from the union was a beautiful gift but more a curse. Isaac had his mother’s hair and his father’s eyes. A happy baby from what Eliza had told him. Until a group of transients killed them both over ten dollars. Arthur had just whipped up a tidy sum from some cattle rustling and had set his compass to visit his secret family, fully intent on giving Eliza all of the hard-earned money. What greeted him would harden his heart and set him on a path of wickedness. All he had to see were the two graves to understand what had happened.

Like a moving picture, the entirety of his life played before him. If this was what the devil had in mind for his punishment, it would be a hellish eternity. Forced to relive every mistake and misstep he’d ever made; it was what he deserved. But as the memories neared their end, he began to feel a weightlessness. Every atrocity and sin that had weighed heavy on his shoulders suddenly lifted. Again, everything went black.

But then –

Stars. Billions of them. Clearer than any night sky he’d ever seen. Galaxies and distant worlds powdered his vision like puffs of freshly picked cotton. No longer held under the burden of sickness, he took a deep and easy breath. He hadn’t felt this well in months – no, years. Was this heaven? Could God forgive a lifetime of misdeeds? Arthur may have never been a good man, but he did try to be better – in the end. But, no. He was irredeemable. This was a final punishment. A peek at the peace and serenity that redemption would have gifted, before God cast him from the light.

The answer was seemingly given when an unnatural force dragged him back through the ether. Again, hundreds of images flashed in his sight, but this time the memories didn’t belong to him. Too fast to discern individual frames, he could only pick out one reoccurring subject. A woman with dark blonde hair and a bright smile that formed two apple cheeks. Strangely familiar, his memory told him he didn’t know her, but his subconscious shouted in recognition. Then she was gone and with her the remainder of his vision.

Everything turned to black once more.

[fanfictionasliterature]

Naruto/Sasuke Rec List

Back to my OG fandom, this time for an ubiquitous pairing. 20+ fic, with 1+ outside of ao3. Due to the size of this list, I plan on updating with more recs later.

In Good Company by weialala

Summary: This will sound a little ridiculous, no matter how Sasuke phrases it. I see dead people is embarrassingly tacky, and I'm half-spirit seems like something Sakura might say when she's stoned sky high. So he settles for a shrug.

Notes: The fic is wayyy wayyy better than the summary, and transcends the I-see-ghosts trope. If you don’t like this fic, you’re lying.

Sowell is a great Naruto fanfic writer, with a lot of classics I reread all the time. Among my favorites are

Wrong Turn

Summary: Naruto and Sasuke have an interlude in the desert. Nothing changes.

Notes: This is the kind of fic that’s so thoughtful it leaves you wondering if you need to immediately go and reread it.

Two If By Sea

Summary: Sasuke has always known he'll die by water.

Notes: A short, angsty fic, which let’s be for real, is how we like our Sasuke fics.

Asymmetry

Summary: Naruto teaches Sasuke how to believe again.

Notes: A succinct, gut-punching fic that’s full of angst and hope, and so much plot in a surprisingly short fic. A believable alternate ending.

rageprufrock is one of my favorites as well. Amazingly funny, touching, brilliant, amazing.

Telephone

Summary: It's rough being Team 7.

Notes: Hilarious! There’s no reason not to read this.

Kantayra is another classic, and writes great short humor fics.

The Subtle Art of Uchiha Seduction

Summary: Sasuke’s finally decided on his chosen mate, and he pursues him with the same ruthless determination he does everything else. Unfortunately, it’s all too subtle for Naruto.

Notes: Cracky and funny.

Commiseration Night

Summary: Now that they're jounin, husbands, and fathers, the men of the Konoha 11 get together once a week to commiserate about their sex lives...only Naruto doesn't seem to get point when he talks about his marriage to Sasuke. Naruto/Sasuke/Naruto.

A World of Truth by luchia

Summary: The world is trapped in an illusion which removes anger, hate, and death. It's paradise, giving everyone everything they've ever wanted and reviving anyone they've ever lost. Nearly two years into the illusion, Sasuke snaps back to his senses and must decide whether to keep the world in false bliss, or return it to war-torn reality.

Notes: A great alternate ending, and one that makes you really for and empathize with Sasuke. Can’t recommend it enough.

megyal is another Naruto staple, and is thankfully prolific. Of her fic, I particularly like:

(Make things so) Complicated

Summary: Naruto as Jounin; Sasuke redeemed/Jounin (+ genin team optional)... either established (healthy) relationship or a get-together piece. Really, it's the interaction I'm after. Kids welcome. 

Notes: Fluffy, cute, and touching in the way that all megyal fics are.

Put a little fixing on it

Summary: Back and forth on Sasuke's return.

Notes: This was brilliantly remixed by Elizabeth Culmer, and I recommend both fics.

What Isn’t Broken, Can Still Be Fixed by Elizabeth Culmer

Summary: Madara lied about the eye transplant's effects. Captured and brought back to Konoha, Sasuke must adjust to blindness and his unexpected survival. NaruSasu, written for RemixRedux 8.

Baby Animals, Weddings, And Other Things Not Normally Associated With Uchiha Sasuke by prettypriestess

Summary: In which Konoha needs to upgrade their plumbing to be more resistant. (Or, the one where Sasuke and Naruto get genin and maybe someone buys a house.)

Notes: Wherein Sasuke and Naruto are accidentally domestic, which is a trope I adore, and is done particularly well here.

Damaetas by pellaz

Summary: SasuNaru. Set postseries. Orochimaru has taken Sasuke's body, and Naruto hunts him while dealing with such obstacles as training his first genin team.

Notes: The fic takes the unhealthy aspects of Naruto’s obsession with Sasuke to its logical conclusion. It’s disturbing, angsty, and so so good. It’s the kind of fic that makes you realize that we were robbed of characterization.

The Inevitable by rayemars

Summary: Sasuke can see the changes that communication with the fox demon is bringing to Naruto, and he knows what they're leading to.

Notes: Another tragic fic, this time in a bite-size amount.

Killing It by dawnstruck

Summary: A year after Jiraiya's death, a new Icha Icha volume gets published. Self-declared Number One Fan, Hatake Kakashi, grows suspicious, but keeps buying them anyway.

Notes: The writer has tagged this as cracky humor, but I think it’s more touching than anything else. Less Narusasu though, and more a Kakashi POV.

Twentythirds by Erisabesu

Summary: When one ritual dies, another is born. [SasuNaruSasu] Yaoi.

Notes: This is the kind of fic that takes character growth very seriously and is a very believable way I could see Narusasu happen in the canon universe. 

A Stitch in Time by aureus yarara

Summary: What if Team Seven could have seen, the day Orochimaru bit Sasuke, the future that will come when he takes his offer? Naruto: loved, admired, Hokage. Sakura: strong, confident, head of the hospital. And Sasuke? What does his future hold? Will he like it?

Notes: Sadly, the writer has promised no sequel.

Moonflower by mylilchickadee

Summary: Grief, loneliness, lost chances . . sometimes one can lose themselves to them. And Naruto falls hard. An unconventional, sort of one-sided NaruSasu. Character death Mangaverse

Notes: Angsty in a really good way. The ending is brilliant, and ties up loose ends in a way I really wish Kishimoto had remembered to.

This Life by crazy toffee

Summary: Naruto’s dream was to become Hokage and gain the respect of his village. Between the life he wanted and the life he has, can he really find a way to be happy? Can he really have the thing he wanted most of all?

Notes: Another great alternate ending fic. Fills me with a lot of hope.

Honorable mentions:

Cohabitation by weialala: Sasuke starts calling Naruto "the missus" behind his back two months after moving in with him. It was, in retrospect, akin to ritual suicide.

All things of dearest value hang on slender strings by sirona: Nothing sours a village’s mood faster than a heatwave, and with the anniversary of the Fourth Ninja War on the horizon, the Nanadaime Hokage knows something must be done about it. That’s where Sabaku no Gaara comes in, but Sasuke is not best pleased with his involvement.

words without thoughts never to heaven go by gatty: None given, but be warned that this made me sob on a bus.

The Listening Sky by Fahye: Finally, a Naruto fic written in full knowledge of the manga, even though this particular story should be considered AU after chapter 345. Ish. NO HEBI. ALAS.

The Tower by Nilladriel: Naruto destroys a village. Sasuke does something about it. Futurefic, SasuNaru.

Healing the Broken by KizuKatana: The war is over, and Sasuke is brought back to the village after his defeat by Naruto. But he is struggling to re-assimilate into the village. As his mental stability continues to erode, Tsunade and Kakashi ask Naruto to try a different treatment method. Naruto x Sasuke (slash - boy x boy). Post manga chapter 693.

This, He Learned by unknown: Naruto had learned many things from Sasuke (…) perhaps it was high time Sasuke learned something from Naruto instead. For a change.

Therapy by NavyBlueWings: After four years, Tsunade has had enough of Sasuke and Naruto's fist fights. Ordering them to go to the best therapist in Konoha seems like a good idea. But what's this...? Dom and Sub? Sleepovers and kiss wars? What did they just sign up for?