#but its kind of hard to ignore the eyes and vines. especially the eyes. most of them never close. hes always watching

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

randomly got sidetracked from my bigger drawing project to come up with a wild life pearl design

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Life's Sweet Bells

A COD Farm Sim AU with omegaverse splashed in!

Not a long fic (I hope) but just a series of little stories surrounding Paloma, a soft and sweet omega who's recently earned a farm from a long lost inheritance. Paloma begins cultivating her new life, embracing the rewards and challenges of her new town and it's eccentric strangers.

Poly 141 x F!OC

Link for all the "Villagers"

Introductions

Paloma nearly ignored the old ratty letter she'd received in the post. A hand written thing, outlining her inheritance from a long lost relative. 

An inheritance she stands before now. 

Alejandro, the mayor, a tall alpha with a bright smile, had been incredibly apologetic about the state of the old farm. Rudy, his partner, had explained that the old place had been vacant for some time, and it had only been recently that they discovered the old man’s nearest next of kin.  

Paloma, however,  was hearing none of it, gazing at the lonely plot of land with stars in her eyes.

The place was beautiful, a humble little cottage nestled in the middle of a quiet rolling forest. Its overgrown, vines crawling up the cobbled stone chimney, weeds taking over the empty field, but she can hear a brook nearby, and the little plot had not only a barn, but a greenhouse to boot. It was all worn, in disarray from by the elements, but it's hers. ‘Paloma Hadley’ now legally scrawled on the deed in swirling black ink.  

Alejandro and Rudy had been kind enough to assist her with the small chest of her belongings, and with a promise to check in tomorrow to finalize the last of the paperwork they had left her to her own devices. 

The next day passes quickly, with Paloma up to her elbows in dust and grime, scrubbing years of dirt off of the fine hardwood floors. She’d nearly slipped twice, trucking around her little cottage with bright red wellies to spare her socks. Had gone to war with what appeared to be a small village of spiders living in her bathroom, dutifully capturing and tossing them outside in a cup, and nearly fell down her front steps trying to drag the old heavy rugs outside to wash and beat on an old drying line. But compared to how it was before? She would catch spiders every day. Happily.

She didn't have much to her name when she left, just a small bedroom’s worth of items that she’d kept while she’d lived with her parents. She’d had no problem with leaving, and it wasn’t like her old job was paying her enough to have a place of her own anyway. Despite the increasing list of fix-ups and chores, Paloma had already started to cultivate a sense of pride over her new little home. 

A home, with lovely rugs and quaint wood furniture.

She’s still cleaning, bopping around her kitchen while a pop song blares on her meager little radio when she just barely catches the knock on her door. She fumbles with the volume, dusting off her hands on her already dingey apron and scuttles toward the door, swinging it open to find perhaps the most handsome man she has ever seen in all her years of life. 

He’s almost too pretty, dark curls cropped neatly, with a roguish little scar across his cheek. He’s dressed in a simple button up, short sleeves rolled a few times to highlight the toned curves of his arms, well worn belt with an assortment of tools slung heavily around his hips. 

“Evenin’ miss” he greets with a nod of his head, pearly white fangs on full display as he smiles down at her, warm and bright. Pretty and an alpha. He must have been working hard today, having sweated through his blockers if the way his scent rolls through her is any indication. It’s warm and floral, tonka and citrus, with a hint of spice that would have her tail wagging if she had one. It wasn’t every day that she got a whiff of alpha, really anyone for that matter.  Most designations kept their scent muted or gone entirely, especially in the city where she’d grown up. It was considered polite work culture to keep one’s scent from intervening from day to day activities, which was more a way for designations to avoid bias in the hiring pool. Only bonded pairs stopped blocking their scent.

Her eyes flick to his neck for a quick confirmation, only to see it covered conveniently (and charmingly) with a soft blue bandana. A new mystery to solve.

Paloma realizes she must have been staring a little too long when he clears his throat softly, making her flinch. Way to be cool Paloma. She has a hard time getting her words out, smiling dumbly as the alpha on her porch chuckles awkwardly. Extending a hand.

“Kyle Garrick, y’can call me Gaz.”

She reaches out without thinking, her fingers brushing against his wrist in her haste to wrap her soft hand around his. If Gaz notices the small social faux pa he doesn’t say anything, simply gives her soft a squeeze before letting go politely. 

“Sorry! Wasn’t expecting anyone else today.” she attempts, tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ears nervously, introducing herself in return as an afterthought.

“‘Course not, didn't mean to intrude. It’s not often we see a new face around here, let alone one moving in. Wanted to bring by a little house warming gift, figured you’d have your hands full with all this.” he gestures. 

Gaz presents her with actual tools, a decent sized shovel, hoe, and axe, he even tosses in a small toolbox, and a handful of varying seed packets. 

He rubs the back of his neck, ��Not sure if you wanted to actually keep up with the old farm, but if you did, these'll give you a start.”

She looks it all over with absolute glee.

“No! This is perfect. Thank you Gaz, really. I don't know what this place used to look like, but I want to pick up where it was left off.” she says proudly, hands on her hips. 

She'd already hoarded up all sorts of books and manuals on farming and caretaking. Determined to be as self sufficient as she could. 

It was a pipe dream maybe, thinking she could make a living selling produce and cute jams, and she tells him so, shoulders falling ever so slightly.

“It's really not. Been missing someone like you around here since the old man died. The general store and village market's been suffering for it. I think you're just the person we needed around here Paloma.” 

His words are so genuine it nearly makes her misty. 

“I've got my work cut out for me, but I intend to do my very best” she promises, meeting his eyes with a bold resolve.

“I've got no doubt you will.” he chuckles. “Just so you know, I run the carpentry shop just up the road. If you need a hand, come see me, yeah?” 

“Will do!” she waves, watching her first kind stranger take his leave.

–

Paloma takes it easier the following days.

Well 

A little easier.

Rudy had explained the old shipping bin on her property, and with her cottage finally, less spidery and grim she had resolved to at least do a little foraging in the bountiful area Alejandro had been sure to remind her of. The move in general had taken what little savings she'd had. And if selling off a few things would garner her some pocket change then she had to do all she could.

It was at least a start.

She was pretty pleased with her bounty around the mid afternoon, having already filled her basket full of varying mushrooms and wild vegetables. At least the ones she thought were edible. She hopes Rudy at least looks it over before taking it.

She's plopped on her rear, fingers stained blue as she works over a healthy looking berry bush (popping a few of the prettiest ones in her mouth in between) when a new voice startles her.

“New to town and already riflin’’ through other folk's gardens I see!”

The loud scottish lilt has her nearly jumping out of her skin. She whirls, eyes falling to yet another handsome stranger. 

He's another big boy, white tank top smudged with dirt and loose sprigs of hay, his hair is cropped into a short mohawk, a rabbit's foot charm dangling from a loose chain around his neck. A farriers apron hugs his thick thighs, a fine layer of sweat glistening against his sun kissed skin. 

Good heavens, they build them different in the country.

She sputters, trying to haul herself up “I didn't mean to- I didn't know?? I'm-”

“Easy lass, just yankin’ your chain” he laughs, extending a hand to help her up, his grip is firm, and he must overestimate how much strength he needs to pull her soft body up out of the dirt because he hauls her right into his chest. 

Her brain reels, getting a nose full of sweet alpha musk, a fun mix of buttery shortbread and soft rose that seems odd clinging to such a macho looking alpha.

His freehand catches her, warm broad palm against the small of her back as she flails again, trying to get distance between them, nearly tripping over her own boots when he settles her again, a warm palm on her shoulder to hold her in place. 

She's grateful she grabbed a healthy supply of her own blockers before leaving, at least she wouldn't be perfuming all over the place like a fool. She was embarrassed enough that her encounter with Gaz the day before had her snuffling at his scent on her hand all evening like a lonely puppy.

“Easy there” he says good naturedly, giving her a pat not unlike a horse before pulling his hand away. “Was wonderin’ when you'd come by and see me.” he beamed, pretty blue eyes bright with mischief.

She rights herself, dusting the dirt from her knees. “Is this your property? I didn't mean to intrude, I didn't realize someone was so close…” 

She admittedly hadn’t strayed too far from home just yet, she wanted to get at least a little settled before meandering into town. She feels a little bad for not even bothering to see her new neighbor.

He introduces himself as John Mactavish, Soap for short. Explains that he minds the livestock just up the way, ducks and chickens and cows and horses, and that she was indeed on his property. 

“Not that I mind of course. Alejandro told me we had someone new, didn't know you'd be such a bonnie thing, s'good to finally have a new face ‘round here.” he teases as they walk together. Soap had insisted he walk her home, had even snagged her basket of berries, holding them hostage, claiming she had too much to carry already with her backpack already sagging heavily against her shoulders. 

Soap was a talker, rambling animatedly, introducing her to new names of fellow townsfolk she’d yet to meet, too many names lost on her as they made they’re way down the worn dirt path to her home. Talking with him was as easy as breathing, and while Gaz had been friendly she didn’t feel quite the same nervousness with Mactavish, and soon enough her own chattery energy came out to match his own. It wasn’t long before the pair were laughing and giggling their way under the afternoon sun, swapping stories of past awkward moments and old jobs.

Just from the way he talked, she could tell Soap was well liked, referring to most everyone in town as his friend. It was incredibly sweet how he only had good things to say. And if what Soap was saying was true, Paloma would have no issue getting to know everyone in town, well, mostly, everyone. 

“Ach, Ghost, you’ll like him, he’s a tough nut to crack, but he’s good people, my best pal.” he says warmly, setting her basket down beside her front door. He starts to continue before he pauses, taken aback. She guesses in their chattering Soap hadn’t noticed their arrival until she’d let him right to her door.

“My days” he sighs, baby blues surveying her little farm, he doesn’t say anything as he steps off her porch, beelining it for her old barn, making her half run just to keep with his longer strides. He takes it upon himself to survey the building, making a couple rounds around the foundation before wrenching the old doors open with a grunt of effort. She follows him inside, mimicking him by putting her own hands on her hips as they both look around. Paloma isn’t quite sure what she’s looking for, but Soap does, and if anything she’s here for support. 

“Ya know, I’ve never been out here before, the old man kept to himself,  ya got yourself a good little setup here, hen. Little bit of patching here and hammering there and this’ll do just fine!”

“You think so? I would love to have a few animals, nothing too serious, but the company would be nice.”

“I know so, and tell you what.” he turns to her, a mischief Paloma suspects is permanent in his eyes, “ you come ‘round my place, help me tend to mine, and I’ll teach you a few things, even throw in a few coins for your trouble. That way we both have some company, aye?” 

“You’d really do that?”

“‘Course! Just a little while, once you get this place all neat and tidy you’ll have your hands plenty full, and then you’ll be askin’ ole Soap for help.” he teases, clapping her on the shoulder once more, broad palm dangerously close to the tender gland at the juncture of her shoulder. 

Paloma nods her head at the charismatic alpha, cheeks burning at the innocent contact. She wasn’t going to turn a prime opportunity down, and hands on contact would be much better experience than fumbling around with a book. It’s not like she was imposing, he offered after all, like good neighbors do, and she’d admittedly grown fond of the playful scot after their little walk together. 

“Excellent, I’ll get out of your hair for now bonnie girl, but do me a favor would ye?” he asks seriously, looking her dead in the eye. “Stay out of trouble, your lucky I was alright with you pilferin’ my berries like that but-” 

A loud snort tears from her at his teasing, one she attempts to cover half heartedly as more snorts follow, making Soap laugh too, she punches him in the side playfully, trying to catch her breath as Soap’s giggles make her laugh even more.

“And now you’re assaulting me! I’ll have you know I wont tolerate nefarious behavior like this, I’ll let it slide this time girlie, but it won’t happen again.” he proclaims, waggling his finger at her, only making her laugh harder. They part ways in giggles, Soap waving pleasantly as he trots back off into the distance, his sweet rose scent wafting around her in a pleasant cloud. 

Paloma’s cheeks hurt from smiling, and for once the heavy weight of carrying on feels like nothing at all. 

[loveanoutcast]

ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-

Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀

only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader

Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D

Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-

"Assumptions."

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader

TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old

Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane

It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.

That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"

Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.

He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.

You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.

The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.

"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"

You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.

"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."

Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.

"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"

You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.

"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.

All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.

"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?

Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.

"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."

"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."

You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.

You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.

"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.

"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.

Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.

"Help! Someone call a doctor!"

The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.

"Sir, let me see."

"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"

"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.

"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."

"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.

"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.

"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.

"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.

You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.

"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."

Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.

"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."

"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.

"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."

"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.

"Don't mention it."

"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.

The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.

"Are you a nurse or something?"

"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."

The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."

"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"

Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.

"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"

"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.

You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."

However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."

Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.

When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.

The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.

"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."

"Where's the guy?"

"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."

Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,

"What happened to your face?"

The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."

"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.

He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."

He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.

You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.

"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."

Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"

You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.

"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"

"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."

It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.

"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."

Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.

You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.

His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.

"Who's got you turning red brat?"

"Uh-it's nothing, captain."

He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.

"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."

"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.

"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.

You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."

"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."

"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.

"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"

"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."

Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.

Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.

It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.

Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.

You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.

It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.

Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.

It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.

"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.

"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.

He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.

"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.

As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.

"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.

"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."

"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."

You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,

"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."

Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,

"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."

"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.

"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."

You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."

Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.

"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"

When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.

"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."

"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.

"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."

"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.

"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."

You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.

"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."

"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.

"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."

"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."

You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.

"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."

"So he's charming?"

You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.

Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.

"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,

"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.

"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.

"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."

You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

"So why haven't you told him?"

You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."

You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.

"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.

"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"

Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."

You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.

"What?"

"You're so fucking dense, Eren."

"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."

You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."

"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"

"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.

"Shallow." He spit out.

"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.

"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,

"We what, Eren?"

"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.

"Eren...come here."

"No, I should g-"

"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.

"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."

It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,

"Do you maybe feel the same way?"

You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.

When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."

You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."

The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.

"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.

The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."

He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.

The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.

A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-

"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."

His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.

"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.

Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.

"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."

Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.

One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.

You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.

You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.

"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."

His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.

"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.

Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.

"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.

He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.

"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.

Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.

"Please what baby?"

"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.

You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.

"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."

He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.

"With me."

You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.

Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.

"Hmm, right there princess?"

You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.

"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."

"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"

Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.

"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."

"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.

"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.

The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.

Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.

"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"

"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."

Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.

The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.

His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.

"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.

"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.

"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.

You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,

"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.

Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.

His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.

"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.

You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.

He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.

You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"

"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.

You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.

"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"

They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.

"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.

"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."

You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.

"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."

"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.

The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.

"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.

You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.

"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"

"Sure what do you need?"

"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"

The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"What?"

"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.

You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.

Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.

[adobe-outdesign]

👀👀👀thoughts on the Rowlet line?

Already did Rowlet here, but as for the rest of the line:

I'm probably one of the few people who likes Dartrix a little better than Rowlet. Don't get me wrong, Rowlet is very cute and very round, but I just like this dapper lad's style a little more. It's so fucking funny to see this fop brushing feathers out of its face during battle, and the "hair" goes great with the leaf bowtie and the shape of the face.

Aside from the personality, I also like the body shape a lot; it keeps the best elements of a barn owl in there and is still pretty cute while also looking like an older, stronger version of Rowlet. And I like the color palette a lot here, as the white base combined with the darker brown plumage and lighter green leaves has great contrast, especially with the lighter brown/orange accents.

If I have one complaint though, it's that the wings look really weird (not helped by the right wing being blatantly lower on the body than the left wing in the official art). I know Pokemon (especially newer gen Pokemon), isn't too concerned with anatomy, but even in terms of stylization they just doesn't look right. Even if you ignore the lack of an "elbow", the shape shouldn't taper back in at the base. Rowlet's wings have this problem a bit too, but it's less noticeable there as it's less anatomically accurate to begin with.

Decidueye is a much better example of how to simply a bird wing. Speaking of which...

I have a gut feeling that Rowlet and Decidueye were designed first, then Dartrix was made afterward. Aside from the first and last stages being the most important, the color pallet also reverts back to one near-identical to Rowlet's. Dartrix also doesn't visually connect to Decidueye much, and almost seems to be going in a different direction completely, suggesting that they knew where to end but weren't completely sure how to get there.

In terms of Decidueye itself, I'm mixed. It's not bad, but there's just a bit too much going on with it.

In terms of theme, there's kind of a through-line with the dapper look of its pre-evos, as Robin Hood started off like that before becoming an outlaw in the stories. However, the dapper-ness doesn't really carry through to the end; the only real element that stays is the bowtie. It also drops most of the barn owl elements in favor of more a stilt-owl look. While none of this is inherently bad, it makes Decidueye feel a bit disconnected from its pre-evos.

Not helping with that is the amount of complexity here. The body and wings are okay, but the head is very busy--a “mask” around the face, black accents, and a jagged leafy hood. Having the face be in shadow with just the eyes visible would’ve been one way to handle it. Or the hood could’ve been dropped; I get what they were going for but it looks very unnatural, and doesn’t read all that clearly as leaves. Also, the random feather on top of the head isn’t needed.

I should also point out that I’m not big on the grass/ghost typing. The sudden “spooky” vibe doesn’t blend well with the rest of the line, and it feels like they were trying a bit too hard to avoid just having it be grass or grass/normal. If anything, grass/normal would’ve made sense given the Robin Hood influences. Not that big of a deal, but once again, feels a bit off.

However, with that said, there are a lot of good things going on with the design; the wings look great, the long legs and vine drawstrings are cool, and the archer theme is a good one. While I prefer Dartrix’s palette, the colors are still nicely distributed as well. So it’s still a good final evo; it just feels like the transition to get to it could’ve been smoother.

[capt-spooki3]

...And Sunrises Were Worse

A sequel to Sunsets Never Felt The Same...

Pairing: Revivebur and Reader

Warnings: blood mentions, fighting, angsty feelings, kissing, manipulativebur

Y/n was finally recovering after the unfortunate demise of their lover just to find, he is back and better than ever...

3.6k words

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Y/n watched him from afar, arms open wide as he took in the rays from the rising sun.

“This is my sunrise..”

Hearing the words from him sent chills through their whole body. Watching him stand there, alive and grinning like a mad man, made them sick. Whether it was from shock, disbelief, or anger they weren’t sure yet.

It had been nine whole years that he had been gone and the only piece of him left was his ghost. Ghostbur was a comforting presence, but it just took so much for them not to try and question Ghostbur on why he left them. Not only did his ghost not remember them, but they learned quickly that he had no memory of his past mistakes.

They never expected his lonely soul to be so innocent and sweet, especially after seeing face to face how far he had fallen once he lost his darling country. That last glimpse of him they got, shook them to their core and took years to recover from. Though honestly, it never fully left them. They were ready to move on and look for love in someone that wasn’t six feet under. But there stood their former lover, watching as Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo walked away from him with Friend following close behind. He was smiling in a manic way, looking the exact same way he did when he kissed them and ran off to face his demise but this time there was something different that they just couldn’t place their finger on. Maybe it was that this time, he had a will and a want to be alive.

Y/n shook their head, letting a shiver run down their spine as they turned and started to walk away, not wanting to look at him anymore and hoping that they would just be able to forget he had come back to life.

“My dearest sunflower... “ They stopped in their tracks as they heard the voice say softly, just loud enough for his words to reach them. They held their breath, hoping to hear him speak again or not at all, while a cold sweat went down their back. Everything stood quiet like the world was holding its breath along with Y/n.

“Don’t ignore me now, love. Please, turn and look at me. I want to see your face again, it’s been too long.”

“What the hell are you doing here- yOU WERE GONE WILBUR! YOU WERE GONE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STAY GONE!” They balled up their fists and squeezed their eyes tight to try and not let the tears slip through. Emotions that have been kept under wraps for years were finally coming forth to plague their mind. All from hearing his sugar-coated voice again, but they knew all that laid under the tooth-rotting exterior anymore was pure venom.

“Y/n… please don’t be upset. I’m back. I’m here, I can make things better than ever.” His voice was growing closer and was only unraveling them farther.

“NO! Wilbur stop- stop moving. Don’t come closer.” They pleaded, voice growing frail as tears were trying harder to run free. “Please…”

“Listen to me at least, darling.”

“No. I won’t.

“Y/n.” He sounded like he was warning them to comply. A big red waving flag telling them that even in death, he hasn’t changed.

“I’m leaving, and once I’m gone. So are you.” They started walking down the small mound of rubble they were watching him from as soon as they finished their sentence and picking up the pace as soon as their feet hit the glass that kept them from falling into the crater of L’manburg.

“Y/N!!” Wilbur called out to them desperately. “H-Hold on, just wait!” But they didn’t stop, they didn’t even look back and just kept their eyes on the swirling vines that tainted the space below them.

Harsh footsteps rang out on the glass, they sounded like boots as they clicked nicely. Suddenly they were pulled back when a hand grabbed onto their arm to stop them, Wilbur took small gasps as he caught his slightly extended breaths. Y/n looked back at him and finally looked him in the eyes again after nine years. His mouth hung open just a little as he steadied his breathing. Dirt was smudged on one cheek while a bit of blood was dried on the other and a long past dried bloody nose. He looked tired too, very apparent bags were under his eyes now though his glasses sat perfect and untouched on his nose. The red in his eyes was so easy to see and up close made it even more unsettling especially as he looked at them so fondly and softly like he never stopped loving them even in death.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whispered, pulling them just a bit closer, looking like a puppy pleading for their owner not to go to work.

“Wilbur. It has been nine years. Nine years you’ve been gone, nine years tha-”

“Thirteen years!” He leaned forward just lightly as he emphasized the number. Y/n stopped and just looked at him, confused by him one upping them.

“What?”

“I have been in limbo for thirteen years Y/n. An empty train station. No exit. No one else there to help. I screamed and clawed at the walls. I was stuck there for so, so long. But I never forgot you. I missed you so much.” Wilbur finally let their arm go and let his arm fall back to his side, looking defeated. “I can’t tell you how many times I relived memories of you just to make me feel something again. Like… remember our sunset?” He looked down through the glass floor, smiling sweetly as he was obviously thinking back on the time. But Y/n simply looked at him in disbelief and almost disgust that he was thinking of them.

“Do you even realize how much it hurts? The things you told me before you went and got yourself killed? I held onto that for so many years, Wilbur.” He fixed his gaze back on them, his smile having been lost as soon as they started talking. “I was so ready to be healed from you and pursue love. Just… be happy. I haven’t forgotten you, but that’s because you hurt me so.. so bad.”

They let out a shuddering breath and took a few steps back from him to which he started to reach for them but stopped himself, lowering his hands to his sides and dropping his shoulders.

“I’m leaving. And I need you to let me leave and forget I was ever here.” They demanded once and for all before turning sharply and walking away from him.

“CAN YOU… can you stay. For just… for just a bit. Till sunset. Let me stay with you.” Y/n slowed to a stop when hearing his sad request. “Sunset can be the limit and you can bring me back here and I won’t follow you. Please just… Can you give me this?”

They sighed deeply, their addiction to his voice returning much faster than they hoped it would. They started to move again but not before calling back to him.

“Well come on then. I told myself I’d sort the books at the library today.” Y/n knew they didn’t need to wait for him because a few paces in and he had caught up to their side, hands in his pocket as he took smaller strides by their side.

“You finally built the library you always talked about?” Wilbur asked fondly, they could feel the constant glances he was throwing their way, and frankly, it took a lot of effort not to look back at him.

“Actually Foolish did it for me, I commissioned him. It looks really good too, almost everyone frequents it. I’ve even gotten Techno and Phil to drop by a good number of times.” They found their way onto the Prime Path as it made the walk to the library the easiest amongst all the rugged land.

“Yeah? I bet that Ranboo guy is there a lot, he looks like a bookworm.”

“He stops by quite a bit, yeah... Ghostbur was always there though.” They said as their voice grew softer. “Unless he was traveling around or visiting others to spread his blue, he was sitting there with Friend and reading.”

Wilbur didn’t try to make any comment after that and Y/n had to give him that. At least he still knows when it was best to shut up and bear the silence.

The rest of their walk remained rather quiet other than little comments here and there and Wilbur requested a quick walk by the museum once he saw it. Even though they could have cared less about what he wanted, Y/n agreed to walk by it since it wouldn’t set them off their path too much. They couldn’t help but admire him as he was now, they always thought Ghostbur was the actual soul AND mind of Wilbur with just amnesia. After being around him for so long, they got the urge to explain events to him whenever he would mention them, just to be reminded that he was there and remembered it all.

-

“Oh, so this must be the library ey?” Wilbur said excitedly as he stared at the two-story building and nodded in approval. “Gotta tell that Foolish guy he did a good job.”

Y/n laughed a little and went in with Wilbur close behind and quietly observing the interior.

“Go ahead and do whatever you want, I’ll be… kinda everywhere do just call if you need anything okay?” They glanced back to him to see his eyes already on them, smiling softly before he nodded.

“I can help too if you need it.”

“Uh- no. No, I’ll be fine, thank you.” They said quickly before rushing to start upstairs and get some distance between him, still not all that comfortable being so close to a man that was dead mere hours ago. They knelt down to a bookshelf and went on autopilot while they sorted through and put books in the right order.

It was so hard for their mind to fully process that he was revived. They overheard Tommy when he met up with Tubbo and Ranboo so they heard the whole story and followed behind secretly. They watched from afar when they found Wilbur but sadly didn’t hear most of what he had to say out of pure shock that he was standing right there without a sword through his chest. As much as they wanted to completely forget about his existence, They doubted they would be able to get rid of him now. All they could hope is that he would keep his distance and not be kind enough to make them fall in love with him all over again.

Hours passed by in minutes for them and they were finished with the top floor of books and went downstairs to find Wilbur standing there with obviously freshly baked bread, contemplating walking up the stairs.

“Y/n! Sorry um… here.” He offered the small loaf to them, he didn’t have his gloves on anymore and his hands were cleaned. “You’ve been working hard, but you need to take care of yourself.”

They took the bread from him carefully, taking a piece and trying to find it surprisingly good. He must have gotten it from the bakery.

“Thank you, Wilbur…. You eat too.” They took their leave into the rows of bookshelves to distance themself and eat near one of the back windows.

Things weren’t looking good for them at this rate.

-

“Alright Wilbur, got all your things? I’ve got to walk you back then go home.”

Wilbur hopped up from the chair he was sitting in, pulling his gloves out of his pockets and slipping them both on before adjusting his coat.

“Yep, all ready. Lead the way.”

And lead they did, though this time they took the more remote path down to his shrine. They took the path that Phil and his group used when they were first trying to revive Wilbur by using Ghostbur. It was calmer and it let Wilbur see other parts of the nearby area that he didn’t before.

“You know… Y/n. Have you ever been down here at night?” Wilbur asked as they were nearing the shrine.

“Huh? Oh, no I haven’t. Not since… you know.” They cast a quick glance to their side at him. “It doesn’t bring back the best memories so I try to avoid it.”

“Right, right, that makes sense.” He went quiet, but it was obvious he wanted to add on and most likely ask them something.

“Why?”

“Well, I saw them earlier and thought they looked rather nice. Did you see the floating lanterns? There were just a few, but they stood out to me among all the destroyed land.” He took a breath and looked over at them until they met his eyes. “I wanted to ask you if you could stay and look at them with me.”

Y/n just looked at him, expressionless and not saying a word.

“Look, the sun is literally already setting. Just for a few minutes, please? We can uh- we can stand on the other side of the shrine and look at them. Okay?” He looked up at the sunset before it was hidden by the land. “Just before you leave.”

“Just before I leave.” They softly echoed him and got a rushed thank you as he picked his pace up now.

They finally reached the stone steps that led to the shrine and Wilbur happily took the lead, walking to the backside of the shrine to lean up against the lapis wall. Y/n fell back against it and sighed, closing their eyes and being thankful for a moment to rest. They opened their eyes and looked up at the lanterns floating nearby, glowing brightly against the land now that the sun was set. They let themself slip away while watching the calming float of the lanterns.

Feeling eyes on them, they looked over to Wilbur. He didn’t even try to look away, just looking at them with a distant gaze and hands resting in his pockets. He looked numb as he silently watched despite the soft rosy look of his cheeks. There was something there they could only describe as numb and lovesick. As odd as it sounds, it fits.

“Wilbur-”

“Shh just let me… you look too lovely right now.”

They felt the heat rising to their face as much as they hated to feel it with him. It felt too right to hear it from him again and their mind pushed them to beg him to say those words again.

“I… I need to go home.” Y/n whispered to him, not even sure if that’s what they wanted anymore.

“I know, but darling I’m selfish.” He spoke softly to match their tone. They looked away to let out their held breath and contemplate what they were supposed to do. With a deep and grounding breath, they looked back at him. As much as they were ready to tell him they were leaving him here alone, him giving obvious glances to their lips just stopped them from being able to go forward with it.

With a soft bite of his lip, he tore his gaze away and sighed as looked up at the star-speckled sky, resting his head back. They were frozen now, admiring him this time. They swore they wouldn’t fall again but look at them now, ready to throw caution to the wind.

And they did.

Y/n closed the distance between them willingly for the first time that day and grabbed onto the arm of his jacket to get his attention, just above the L’mamburg flag patch that was covered with old dirt and blood. He looked down at them with wide eyes, very obviously surprised to see them so close.

“Are you… okay?”

“I-... I don’t know.” They admitted, meaning it completely. Wanting any of him now felt wrong but with someone as addicting and beautiful as him, what were they to do? “I want to leave… but I can’t.”

Wilbur snickered, bringing a gloved hand up to rub their cheek softly.

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

They opened their mouth to answer but were just met with blank thoughts, knowing he was right.

They just stood there, looking at each other and neither one making any advancements or turning away to end it.

“If I… Wilbur, if I kiss you right now, what will you do?”

“Well, Y/n I might just not be able to let you go. So if you want to leave and never see me again, then go. I won’t stop you. But sunshine, if you kiss me right now I won’t be able to keep myself away.” He opened his hand up to put it fully on their cheek, holding them as though this contact meant the world to him. They leaned into his hand just a little, not breaking eye contact.

They thought hard about if this was really a good idea. They still had the time to back out if they wanted to, it wasn’t too late for them to keep him out of their life forever and not try to get to know him all over again.

It was a good idea to leave. The best and smartest idea even, but even still they chose the latter.

“You’re an evil man, Wilbur Soot.” They muttered before grabbing onto the collar of his jacket, pulling his face down to theirs, and kissing him hard, making both of them stumble a bit by Wilbur being off balance. His hands found their way back to their cheeks immediately though, holding them so softly. He pulled them closer, not seeming to want to give this moment a chance to leave. Y/n pulled away finally to catch their breath, they couldn’t help but look at his eyes just to find that he was crying. He was smiling as well though. The sight made tears prick their own eyes though they blinked hard to try and hold them back. Before, seeing him in tears never failed to make them cry. They could never figure out why but it still held true.

"Why are you crying, you idiot? '' They mumbled just before he put his forehead to theirs and closed his eyes, taking in a deep yet shaky breath.

"You’re finally back in my arms… after so long of wishing for you.” He pulled their face to him to kiss them again and laugh softly. “It’s just crazy.”

He leaned back when he slid his hands off their cheeks, but not before running his hand through their hair and sighing as he looked at them. “Y/n… I need you to listen to me, okay?” He still spoke sweetly, but something seemed to lay underneath the surface of this and this time they could tell.

“Okay… but I don’t know if I can trust what you are going to say.”

“No no love! Please,” He reached down to grab and hold both of their hands close to his chest as he looked into their eyes. “You can trust me. You can. I just… I have things I need to do now that I’m back. And these things, I know some people aren’t going to agree with, but no matter what happens. As long as you stay on my side, I can promise you the world.”

Wilbur leaned in close to them, voice growing quiet now but the small smile he bore looked sinister. “I can promise you the world because I am going to capture the world in my hands. And as long as you’re mine, it will be yours as well.” He stroked their hands with his thumbs comfortingly as if to smooth over the words he just told them.

“Wilbur… I have friends. People I think of as family and if you end up hurting them I…” They trailed off, looking away from him and at the rubble of L’manburg and reflecting on what happened the last time he had a great goal in mind.

“That’s perfect! No, that is just perfect Y/n!” He let go of them, eyes wide along with his smile. “You have time. Think it over sunflower, I will give you time.”

He easily slipped past them and took a few strides away. Y/n turned to look at him, their mind in a hopeless scramble of pieces. The two sides of their mind battled on if they should tell him off or blindly trust him. He looked back at them, glancing away again before he walked up to them and gently lifted their chin to get a good look at him.

Memories flooded back to them with the familiar look he gave them. As much as they wished it could be a positive moment, all they saw was the man who grabbed them and kissed them as he said his adrenaline-filled goodbye. The only difference now was he wasn’t ready to die, but looked more than ready to cause any other kind of damage.

“You really are beautiful… I hope you choose me.” He held their chin and rubbed his thumb over their bottom lip before kissing them again, longer and sweeter this time before he spoke against their lips. “Find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you.”

___________________________________________

While you're here...

pss pss psss 👁👄👁 i made art for it too

[whereflowersbloom]

Dum Spiro Spero

The leader of the league of shadows and secrets was watching a beautiful creature bathing in sunlight. Shinning ebony hair catching each breath of early autumn’s glinting sunset, a tendril of her hair catching in the wind as it breaks free from an elaborated braid. Raven was kneeling in the garden, hands working the soil, to bring life, making new life grow. Some moments she stopped to enjoy the autumnal breeze on her face, staring into the distance as if caught in between this world and another.

Looking back Damian never thought he would have this. It had never been an option for him. His life was mostly filled with dangers, blood, threats and uncertainty. Wondering if he would live to see the next sunrise or survive enough to watch the following sunset. His life had been filled with hatred. Hatred towards a parent be believed had abandoned him, an enemy that murdered his loved ones who raised him. He did everything in his power to avenge them but he did not feel satisfaction or any kind of gratification after killing him. No. The emptiness did not fade away.

There were times where he was filled with so much regrets. Regret of rejecting his father and not believing in him, that he cared for him. Regret of the days he spent resenting his adoptive brothers for having the chance of a different life. Regret for not being able to love someone freely. Not until her.

The first time he saw her he couldn’t help but stare in awe. The same day Damian drew in his first breath of Gotham City air.

An eternity could have passed by in the blink of an eye, breath hitched in his throat, eyes quivering with strong emotion, heart hammering in his chest and yet he would have stared at the sight of her the rest of his days. For it was humanly impossible to get his eyes off of her. It was a view he had been starved of for eighteen years.

He stared because she was light.

She was home. Finally.

Porcelain skin, thick locks of raven hair, piercing, unearthly amethysts struck through his soul. And he felt alive, whole.

He had learned an important lesson. Life was too short, shorter if you’re an assassin, it was too precious. You could never waste a second of it, especially with the people closest to your heart. And he made a solemn promise to his family and himself. He decided to live without regret. To take the opportunities that life handed him and most importantly, he swore to himself that even no matter what happened in the past, the terrible things he had done, his faults and mistakes. He deserved to be happy.

That was five years ago.

It was easy to lurk in the shadows of the their house, a petite, cozy cottage close to the league’s headquarters. In the Kunlun mountains he had found a rustic little gem straight out of a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronté novel, that was how Raven had described it. She had been working on the garden for eight months. There were now fragrant jasmine bushes and two apple trees, one almost completely covered by creamy white climbing roses, clusters of bluebells, foxgloves, pink Hibiscus flowers, pale lavender orchids, and the entire lawn was strewn with white and yellow daisies. In the shadows he knew he would not disturb her reverie. Yet he had been caught, luminous violet eyes wiser than her years cast to where he has hidden with a gentle smile that just pricked the corners of her mouth. “You know I can feel you staring, Damian. The intensity of your emotions is making me go weak.”

Damian couldn’t stop admiring his lover. Because the eyes that followed her were ones brimmed with love, adoration. Stepping into the sunlight, gently he helped her stand up, instinctively wrapping an arm around her waist. “You will never be weak, beloved. Not because of me or anyone.” Words were spoken softly, his other hand reaching to lift a white lily from the blooming bulbs bed and tucking it right behind her ear. Not too far off in the distance the radiant sun continued arching low in the sky reading to say goodbye and allowing the sky to welcome the moon and stars.

One of his long, tanned hands, cupped her face with delicacy, her body aching desperately for his touch. He placed his remaining hand over her chest. She was aware that Damian could feel the rapid pulse of her heart through skin. “Thought you’re stronger than any other living creature in this universe. There is strength in your goodness, as much as there is in steel and fire.” His emerald eyes were filled with so much joy, so much warmth and devotion, it was endless, everflowing.

Raven barely thought she was breathing, willing her unruly heart to ease a fraction, soothe down its beating instead of racing even after all these years together. Damian gently kissed her temple and murmured against her rosy cheek in a low voice that made goosebumps rise on her tender flesh. “Do you know why I fell in love with you?”

She licked her lips and pretended to think about it for a moment. “Because I said you were insufferable our first meeting.” She teased. As much as his presence annoyed her at first, she had come to feel comfortable around him, safe, content. The feelings she had tried to contain became harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, he carved himself into her heart, something she did not have a name for took root. Every time he saw him, heart fluttered in her chest like a child, and everytime he smiled at her...oh Azar she couldn’t take the clash of ardent emotions. After that something inside her began to loosen, shift, to change. She had been a fool, deceiving herself it was nothing more than friendship.

Everything changed for them and she was infinitely thankful both had put in the effort to help each other overcome their fears. They only required a little push from Dick at the beginning, because both were impossibly stubborn.

Damian chuckled audibly. It was a fascinating sound she thought to herself. His hand trailed along her collarbone, enjoying the smooth texture of her ivory skin, grasping the side of her face. Green orbs bored into violet constellations. He spoke firmly and his features hardened slightly. There was a battle raging behind his green gaze, like he was desperately fighting something inside him. His past. “You did not judge me for my past actions, for the assassin I was raised to be. I was coated in blood, spent my days destroying and taking lives. And yet you found goodness in me.” His deep voice was rough and cracked just a bit.

She had given him five years worth of smiles, laughter, love and so much more. Filling the void inside him after losing his grandfather and mother. She had lifted him up. Damian would never let her go. He refused to. How could he?

“Dum spiro spero.” He breathed, heart thundering in his chest.

He did not have tell her its definition. She knew the meaning of the phrase. She blinked in surprise, her mind automatically translated it. While I breath, I hope.

Interlacing his hand with hers, entwined like a vine to tree, he swallowed hard before continuing. “You are my hope, Raven. When I look at you I see hope.” Raven was this incredible force which had burrowed itself so deeply within him being that there would be no uprooting it. Never.

She found herself voiceless, giving time for his words to sink in. Then she did not have to think about her responses for more than a second. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Raven held his gaze, unwavering, for another minute before speaking. “I know you really look at me and see me for who I am and I hope you know, I will always look at you and I will see someone who despite seeing the worst of it all, is still kind, good, a generous and compassionate soul.”

The raw emotion swimming in his eyes made her want to embrace him for eternity. He loved her. He loved her more than she ever imagined. She felt her own eyes watering, tears running down her cheeks which Damian wiped away with careful motions.

“I would love to be your hope until the end of my days.” She whispered voice thick with emotion, forehead pressed against his. His skin was warmer than hers, she let herself submerge in the lingeringly tender contact. Unable to hold back anymore Damian kissed her ferociously, with starved lips, pouring all his words and feelings into the caress. Squeezing her frame against his, wishing for any distance to vanish, anything that would keep them apart.

“I love you.” He whispered in the most intimate of ways against her mouth.

Damian took her in his arms, carrying her and not wasting time, making his way inside the small cottage. They were two souls in love, hearts beating the same tune, in perfect synchrony.

Happy birthday chromie 🙈🙈🙈❤️❤️❤️

This small oneshot is dedicated to @chromium7sky my closest friend in the fandom.

I hope you all like it though. @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @andthendk @ravenfan1242 @carnationmilk @bourniebna @srose-foxfire @sofiii

[drjackandmissjo]

I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you

(but I’ll do what I must for there’s no me without you)

*** Set throughout the course of their 7th and final year at Hogwarts, this story follows Slytherin's finest and one of the only sane members of the House, Blaise Zabini, as he navigates war-torn friendships, school under a dictatorial regime, Death Eaters and, most importantly, his secret relationship with none other than the new leader of the DA, known blood-traitor, Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom.

A sequel to my previous story: Firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine, you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Chapter 1 --- next chapter

Harry Potter fic masterlist

29th of July 1997

“I have to admit: I enjoyed the film way more than I expected to,” he said once they had left the muggle theatre. The air had become chilly during the time they had spent inside, but neither of them was bothered by that: they were used to colder climates, after all, spending most of the year in Scotland. And for all its spells and constant fires, one thing always must be said about Hogwarts: certain rooms and corners had never seen the light of the sun and they surely behaved as such, even during warm days.

Like the Potions classrooms, while Snape was their Professor. Those dungeon rooms looked and smelled and felt every bit of humidity that came from being so close to the lake and that, even with the countless explosions that Theo and the Fire Kid from Gryffindor caused with each lesson, could never get anything warmed up. A Hungarian Horntail could breathe fire in there for 24 hours straight and it would still be humid and wet and cold.

It was a good thing Professor Slughorn had decided to move the classrooms up on the fourth floor, in rooms full of windows and light. Blaise could have easily gone without having to add to his ever-growing list of worries his skin getting dehydrated with the stained and stale air that circulated down there.

He watched from the corner of his eye Neville nod along to his statement in agreement, before casually running a hand through his hair and messing them up even further. No matter how hard he tried to keep them neat and proper, like his grandmother wanted them to be, the strands appeared to have a life on their own, especially when certain Slytherin hands had free reign in between them whenever they were alone.

Besides, it really wasn’t Blaise’s fault: Neville had decided he wanted to grow them out, instead of cutting them just as his grandmother suggested on the daily, and, much to Blaise’s happiness, now his bangs framed his face divinely, making for a perfect place to leave his hands whenever they were else occupied.

He also enjoyed the way Neville would scoff in pretended annoyance whenever he disarrayed them and then would shake his head in disbelief at his antics, aiding Blaise’s purpose even further.

And, really, who could blame him? If Blaise wasn’t as in love with the dorky plant-head Gryffindor as he already was, he’d fall even harder at the sight of him with his funky tousled hair and puffy lips as he took a bite out of Blaise’s food without asking first.

He had been so glad that day, having bought a muggle camera that worked similarly to a magical one but that was way easier to manage. He had taken dozens of stills of them, never seeming to get enough of Neville’s smiling face and of his own relaxed and happy one. For Salazar’s soul, he had even sent one of the two of them smiling to his mother, after she kept on asking to at least see the young man that had enchanted her son.

She had replied to his letter the following day, with a simple: “Rule number fifty-one: don’t let him go.”

Blaise had never once wanted to disappoint his mother and definitely wouldn’t start now.

“I don’t really like the way it ended, though. The part where J removed K’s memories was a nice touch, but I feel like we didn’t have enough time with neither,” Neville commented, shoving his hands inside his jeans’ pockets as they kept on walking further and further away from the theatre, undoubtedly to stop himself from doing something idiotic like holding Blaise’s hand when there were still people around.

Given the current political and non-political air that permeated both the Wizarding World and Britain, the two young men had decided that it would be best to limit their encounters only to muggle areas in London, although they would still have to maintain a rather low and inconspicuous profile. It had become incredibly easy to be together without raising suspicions, especially with almost an entire school year of experience sneaking around the castle, but they still preferred to be cautious, to hide from both dark wizards and close-minded muggles.

Neville still lived with his grandmother, but she had become less strict during the course of his first week back at home from school and didn’t really bother him with the amount of time he stayed out, as long as he spent the nights at home. Besides, in her own words, they all had ‘bigger problems than teenagers breaking curfew a little bit to meet with their friends.’ Blaise couldn’t believe that he could ever agree with Augusta Longbottom, but he had seen stranger things happen.

Still, when Neville told him, he had been so shocked he had choked on his drink, causing the Gryffindor to laugh at the spectacle he had created with his Cola.

Blaise himself had been invited to spend his vacation at either Malfoy Manor and the Nott’s, both families offering their hospitality and implicit protection, but he had declined immediately under the ruse of a simple: ‘I live with you the whole year, I need my space and I need to breathe proper air that isn’t tainted with your disgusting deodorant.’ While the sentiment itself was true, he did not want to risk being found out with Neville, a known ‘blood traitor’. Not to mention the part of him being a guy. And a Gryffindor.

Blaise wasn’t really certain about which part would get him into more trouble and wasn’t willing to find out anytime soon.

Therefore, he had chosen to stay at his father’s old bachelor apartment in London, while his mother moved back to France, not wanting to be anywhere near the War that was brewing.

He had asked Neville to stay with him as soon as he was done cleaning the place, making it welcoming and a cosy retreat for them, but his adorable boyfriend couldn’t leave his despotic grandmother alone the entire time, especially not now that the waters were rough.

Always the selfless Gryffindor.

They had retorted then in meeting for random dates almost daily, which had been heavenly. Neville would show up at his apartment with Floo Powder, since he hadn’t taken his Apparition Examination yet, and then they’d just walk around muggle London, as if they had no care in the world. They still kept their guards up, checking every corner for danger that could be avoided, but they tried to ignore the Damocles Sword that hung above their necks.

Which had led them to the muggle theatre on more than one occasion. It had been a perfect idea: in the darkened room nobody questioned why they were holding hands or sharing the popcorn; and they wouldn’t risk anyone from the Wizarding World discovering them, those who would cause them troubles too high on their brooms to even look down at something as mundane as a muggle theatre.

They had also gone to muggle museums and parks and bookstores and restaurants, but Blaise loved the privacy the theatres offered, he loved the way Neville would get engrossed in the stories, he loved the way their hands would link together as suspense built on the screen, he loved to discuss the film afterwards and to dissect every aspect that he found interesting.

And he loved Neville, so it was all an added bonus.

There was a small theatre nearby his place that was quiet and seldom fraught and that allowed them to spend their evenings together, with the walk towards it full of the most random topic the pair could come up with and the walk back usually occupied with their thoughts and opinions about the film they had just watched. Neither of them had been too well versed in muggle culture to begin with, but it was very easy to pick up, especially with the way the family-owned theatre would sometimes project well-known and older productions, instead of only showing the recent ones.

It made the muggle spectacle even more fascinating, in Blaise’s eyes.

“It was kind of poetic, like a rite of passage and everything, but I understand what you mean,” Blaise said as they kept on walking, itching to grab Neville’s hand but holding himself back for the time being: they were still under the scrutiny of the public eye, after all. He’d have to wait until they turned two corners and were finally alone in the streets to finally place his hands on his boyfriend’s. With moderation, of course. “I feel like the story isn’t finished, especially with the way they had the doctor become an Agent. I understand that she had had her memory wiped more times than Lockhart, but she seemed fine! I don’t know, that ending left me pretty unsatisfied as well.”

His boyfriend huffed out a laugh at that and began to silently shake his head: “Lockhart got obliviated only once, by his own spell bouncing back from Ron’s broken wand. Compared to him, that doctor got her brain scrambled on the daily. But you’re right, it would have been so much better if she kept her job and was on the loop with the alien stuff.”

“Speaking of Lockhart, I wonder how’s he doing…” Blaise inquired, scratching his neck. It had been over three years since anyone had heard of the famous wizard and pretty much everyone had seemed to have forgotten about him. It was such a mystery for some, his sudden disappearance after his year teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Yet again, pretty much all the students at Hogwarts knew of the curse on that position, which made his absence plausible, but to have such a well renowned and celebrated man vanish into thin air after publishing a controversial book where he told the world he had no memory of who he had ever been, it was more than suspicious.

“At St. Mungo’s, giving out autographs Godric knows what for,” Neville answered his implicit question with nonchalance, “I see him sometimes when I go visit Mum and Dad.”

During the time they had been together, Neville had slowly begun to tell Blaise about what had happened to his family: how they were members of the original Order of the Phoenix, fighting the Dark Lord during the First War; how Dumbledore had suggested they hid as well as the Potters, because of some prophecy that would connect their children with the Dark Lord himself; how, after he was defeated and the Potters were killed, his parents were tracked down by four remaining Death Eaters and tortured to insanity; how they now stayed at St. Mungo’s, without a single memory of their son, completely out of their minds.

Blaise had always been cold and calculative and preferred to keep a rational outlook to the world, but when he saw, for the first time since that new information, Bellatrix Lestrange, at Malfoy Manor, free and enjoying life, his blood had begun to boil. He had never wanted to murder someone as much as he did in that moment, forcing himself to maintain a smile on his face and to pretend like he wasn’t ready to slaughter someone. When he came back home that night after dinner with Draco and his wretched family, he had spent an entire hour in the shower, scrubbing at his skin as if he could erase the memory of that wretched woman, drinking wine and telling them all about the Cruciatus Curse and how useful it could be to a dark wizard. He had kept that piece of information hidden from Neville, even though he had recounted pretty much the entire evening the following day, while his boyfriend attempted to calm him down from his homicidal plans, without truly knowing what had instigated them.

And he would never know, for Blaise would go to any lengths to avoid his sweet and loving boyfriend any pain. He had already suffered too much, in his short life.

“Really, he’s at St. Mungo’s?” Blaise asked, trying to distract himself from those dark thoughts. When he was with Neville, it almost felt as if Death Eaters didn’t exist, as if the Dark Lord hadn’t risen again, as if they weren’t on the verge of War. “I thought the whole ‘Who Am I?’ book was all a plan to disappear after he botched our second year without being bothered and now you tell me that Weasley sent him to the healers and basically deprived the Wizarding World of that perfectly blinding smile?” Neville playfully shoved him to the side with his shoulder, lingering a little in his touch as they kept on walking, just as restless as he was to be behind closed doors and to have their privacy and safety: “Ron didn’t send him anywhere and he got what he deserved,” he commented sheepishly, regarding Blaise with a blinding smile of his own.

And Blaise definitely preferred his boyfriend’s smile, so true and sincere and warm and just perfect, rather than anything their former fraud of a professor had ever shared.

“He spent the entire year pretending he could do shit and leaving me hanging from the ceiling, multiple times, and then, at the first sign that he needed to be a responsible adult, he tried to Obliviate Harry and Ron and leave Ginny down with the Basilisk. They got so lucky that Lockhart took Ron’s wand that still hadn’t been repaired, otherwise they’d all still be down there.” Then, as if in an afterthought, he added: “And don’t worry, he still got that smile,” his face reddened and visible even in the dimly lit street.

“No need being jealous of a man who isn’t even worth the mud under your shoes, Nev,” he teased, enjoying how his boyfriend would stammer embarrassed at being discovered.

“I’m not jealous!” he defended himself, but the crimson on his cheeks spoke of another story.

Blaise itched to cup his cheeks and to feel the warmth of his skin, but they were still in the middle of a street that was fairly illuminated and with people around. Therefore he did the next best thing: returned on a safer conversational path. “Oh, yeah, I remember about Weasley’s wand,” he said, laughing at the memory, “It bounced back that Slug-vomiting charm that was aimed at Draco. We had a blast that day, when he told us the story.” “Glad some of you enjoyed it, with your sick sense of humour,” Neville said, shuffling his hands inside of his pockets as they moved closer and closer to the corner that would lead them to the apartment, “poor Ron had to carry a bucket wherever he went for two days straight!”

Blaise couldn’t help himself: maybe it was the serious way he defended his friend, or maybe it was the image of a tiny second-year Weasley carrying around the entire castle a bucket to throw up slugs in, undoubtedly aided by an equally tiny Saint Potter with a bewildered tiny Grander following suit and reprimanding them both, but he just burst up laughing, his entire body shaking with it as he put his hands over his stomach, to try and regain his composure.

Yet, all thoughts of etiquette were damned as soon as he heard his boyfriend join in, his own laugh bright and pure and just perfect.

And the icing on their cake laid in the fact that they were alone, without anyone watching them, and they could just be themselves. Blaise didn’t hesitate a moment into grabbing Neville’s hand, enjoying the warmth that the Gryffindor radiated. They kept on laughing and holding hands as they walked back to the one place they could call theirs.

They all but ran the few meters that kept them vulnerable, staggering over the stairs as if they were drunk. It was a somehow good paragon, considering how inebriated they were with each other, and Blaise couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful his life was in that moment. He could just be himself, around Neville, without having to worry about composure or secrets or manners.

When they closed the door behind their backs and stumbled inside of the apartment, they didn’t even open the electrical lights up, too engrossed in making up for the time they hadn’t been allowed to share, close and up in each other’s personal space.

Blaise would’ve been content in simply existing there, in the tiny apartment that once belonged to his late father, with his hands up on his boyfriend’s hair as he worked and worried over Neville’s exposed neck, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, watching him lean against a wall for support once his legs had given up completely. The outside world didn’t matter anymore, not to him, not when he had Neville’s hands on him. He’d be glad dying there, in his arms, unbothered by the imminent war, by his friends, by their duties.

But reality had to crash down on them at some point.

Neville removed his mouth from his, panting and with his eyes shut, savouring for one more moment their closeness. Blaise studied his face from the short distance, as he always loved doing, recognising his boyfriend’s reluctance to separate. Yet, his duty would win, as it always did, and he would take a step back, trying to recompose himself and running a hand through his hair.

It was long due a haircut, by now, but Blaise was an egoist and wanted the length to stay for a little longer. Besides, when September came, his grandmother would definitely cut it, even against Neville’s will. And Blaise would take whatever he could, when it came to going against Augusta Longbottom.

He hadn’t even met the woman yet and he had already accepted defeat, if it meant keeping Neville in his life. And, while he did not harbour any love for the witch, he was most certain he could keep an amicable front with her, at least, all for Neville’s sake.

That didn’t mean, though, that he didn’t try to stray her grandson into a different path than the one she wanted, at every corner: “Can’t you stay this once?” he asked in a low and sultry voice, fully conscious of what that tone did to his perfect Gryffindor boyfriend, refusing to take a step back and let a single centimetre separate the two of them.

He watched as Neville slowly opened his eyes in the dim light that was filtered by the window from the empty street below. He watched as his throat bobbed as he swallowed, trying to regain his breathing. He watched, powerless, as Neville slipped them over, switching their positions, effectively trapping him against the wall in his arms.

The Gryffindor bent down a little and placed the most chaste and sweet and anticlimactic kiss on Blaise’s lips, driving the Slytherin mad with want and desire, unable to do anything other than comply.

“You know I can’t, flower,” he murmured directly against Blaise’s lips, his own stretching in a wicked smile. Neville Longbottom knew exactly which buttons to press and when to use them all against him: Blaise couldn’t help the shiver that ran over his back at that simple word, still not used to the way the simple pet name made his toes curl and his heart beat out of his chest, nor could he help the sound of appreciation that came out of his throat, and that transformed immediately into one of disappointment as soon as his boyfriend untangled himself from him.

He tried to make some air reach his brain, when Neville stepped back from him once again, leaving him space to breathe and recollect himself while still being infuriatingly close, neither of them wanting to truly part despite their obligations.

“Yes, I unfortunately do…” he answered, still leaning against the wall. He ran his right thumb over his lips, enjoying the way the Gryffindor’s body stiffened at the sight as his eyes tracked the movement. He sometimes still couldn’t believe his luck, especially when Neville looked at him like that, as if he needed all of his strength just to hold back.

Most of the time, Blaise wished he didn’t, yet the knowledge that he was the one to make the apparently timid, placid Schlongbottom, as his friends still believed he was, lose his mind completely was intoxicating. And he lived for those moments and hours when Neville would let go of his composure fully, causing Blaise to follow suit without a single complaint. Because he couldn’t be the farthest from timid or placid, but only he saw that side of him, only he got to enjoy that part of his sweet and amazing boyfriend.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Blaise asked almost out of the blue, conscious already of the reply, but wanting to steal some more time alone with the Gryffindor.

He didn’t particularly care that he was abiding by the stereotype that Slytherins were manipulating and tempting, not when Neville would shoot him a blinding but cocky smile as he fired back: “Already missing me?”

“Always.”

“I told you, I’m going to help Luna find a dress for the wedding and Grandma’s organised that family gathering to celebrate my 17th…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck, to try to make his blushing less noticeable. Unfortunately for him, in doing so, he had involuntarily made his shirt rise a little, showing off the skin beneath, and Blaise was not going to let such an opportunity pass: he moved closer and snug his arms around his boyfriend’s midriff, planting his hands in the small of his back. “Remind me again why I can’t crash her party and steal you away?” he asked casually, next to his ear, before he began to worry the earlobe with his teeth.

Neville seemed to be at a loss for words under Blaise’s ministrations, which was entirely his goal, but he eventually did manage to speak again: “Because she doesn’t know about us, since if she did we’ll never hear the end of it ‘cause we were keeping this a secret, and you are a Slytherin and I am a Gryffindor, and because she is not allowing me to invite any friends,” he said, his voice firm and unfaltering, despite the way his hands were holding Blaise close to him, silently begging to keep up with his work.

Not that he was planning to stop anytime soon. Still, some words at the back of his throat itched to be said: “I have a few words I’d like to tell your grandmother and none of them are kind,” Blaise claimed, staring right into Neville’s eyes and wondering how such a stern woman could raise such a loving man. While it was true that she had laid off his back for the time being, she had doubled down on her questions about Neville’s private life: the poor Gryffindor had to retort to lying simply to avoid her finding out about their relationship. It was a good thing that he had quite a vast number of friends and that said friends didn’t interact with his grandmother, because, based on Blaise’s very own experience with pureblood families, everyone knew everything, especially when ‘keeping the lines pure’ was involved and everyone turned out to be related.

For instance, Neville’s white lie for that day’s activity was very simple: “I’m going to play Quidditch with my roommates and we’ll have dinner afterwards.”

When Neville had told him as much, Blaise had exploded into laughter and disbelief. Was it believable for his boyfriend to play Quidditch? Absolutely not, but he shared a dormitory with Weasley, Thomas and Saint Potter, therefore he played by proxy. It would have equally been absurd for his grandmother to and not to believe him, which was what made the lie incredibly clever.

Blaise shook his head as he silently snickered at the fresh memory, still hesitant to remove his hands from his boyfriend’s body: “Anyway, who’s getting married now that we’re almost on the brink of war?” he inquired, truly curious. A wedding in the Wizarding World was a very public event, especially when pureblood families were involved, which they must have been, if Lovegood was invited.

All of his friends still kept on calling her Loony, but he had stopped using that epithet, since he had begun to consider her a friend as well, thanks to their mutual connection to Neville. And she was an excellent friend, both to him and his boyfriend, kind and compassionate and considerate.

He had already begun to wonder about who the couple must have been, considering no one in his circles had mentioned anything, when Neville spoke, making him understand exactly why nobody amongst the purebloods he spent his time around had even known or cared about such a thing: “Bill Weasley, Ron’s eldest brother, and Fleur Delacour.”

“The Triwizard Champion? How did they even meet?” he inquired, now even more curious. He had seen the eldest Weasley only once, at Gringotts, and it was in that moment that he first began to question whether or not he was straight. And, to pair that with Beauxbatons’ champion, well… That must have been a hell of a good looking couple!

“I don’t know,” Neville said, leaning his head against Blaise’s shoulder and looking at him with a soft smile through his eyelashes, “but they’re super cute together, at least that’s what Ginny told me.” “And you haven’t been invited?” His boyfriend shrugged at that, Blaise knew he did not particularly care about mundane events and being into the public eye: “No, from what Ginny told me it’s not going to be that big of a ceremony. Only family, close friends of the couple, and neighbours. Which is why Luna’s going, as well as to spend time with Ginny.”

“That’s a shame you won’t be there,” he commented, running for the umpteenth time that eventing his hands through Neville’s hair, as the other wizard stayed there, merely enjoying his ministration while he tried not to fall asleep. It had happened already once, right before he had to leave, and that incident had prompted his grandmother into a speech about the right of an adolescent Gryffindor to a little bit of rule-breaking. “I bet you would’ve looked dashing in a suit.”

“Jealous, darling? You know you could always look at me in a suit, if you’d just let me borrow one…” “Not a chance, caro. Mine are all tailored to perfection for my body,” he said playfully, moving his head to the side to place a small kiss on Neville’s nose, causing the other wizard to blush and giggle, “Besides, I prefer seeing you without a single stitch.” “Blaise! You can’t just say shit like that!” his boyfriend spluttered, trying to get away from his words as if they had just tickled him. He loved the way Neville would get all cute and embarrassed. His usual tell was the blush that started on his cheeks and spread throughout his body, and that was incredibly adorable. Blaise had tried to see just how farther the colour could spread, but he had been distracted in his path, somehow. “Why not? No one is listening and it’s true!” he had begun to retort, only to be shut up quickly as two lips pressed against his own, soft yet insistent, gentle yet commanding. One thing had to be said about Neville Longbottom and that was how efficient he was at quieting him with a single gesture, whether with a kiss or by simply occupying his mind with the little things he always did, essentially being himself, unfiltered.

It took them less time than usual to resurface for once, mainly because Blaise still wanted to know more about the hot new wizarding couple that could definitely take over the world, if the Dark Lord wouldn’t win.

He desperately prayed he wouldn’t, for countless different reasons.

“When is this marvellous event?” he asked, still refusing to put a single millimetre of space in between them.

“In three days, on the first. Luna’s absolutely on her last chance, looking for the perfect dress that won’t attire Wrackspurts,” he commented, shaking his head. Something inside of Blaise told him that it wasn’t the first nor the second time they went out shopping and, if Lovegood was anything like Pansy, it must have not been an easy task chaperoning. Pansy Parkinson could try on an entire street of boutiques, buy every single item of her size, and still lament she had nothing to wear.

“Why? Wanna meet up? I thought we were going for lunch on the second,” Neville added, pulling him out of the horror of the memory of the first time that witch had discovered French Haute Couture: a tornado would’ve left behind less damage.

“Yeah, I’ve been invited to Draco’s for dinner on the first, with all the others…” he trailed off, remembering exactly what had been discussed the previous night amongst the Death Eaters. It wasn’t unusual for Draco and Theo to invite him over, especially since they both believed he was fully on the Dark Lord’s side but was merely acting precious, never truly giving in. And he couldn’t deny an invitation, otherwise it would have looked suspicious. After all, his friends knew that he was staying all alone in London, away from his family, and that he wasn’t fooling around with anyone, which, in their eyes, meant he had a lot of free time.

Free time that they tried to occupy, not wanting to leave him completely alone. Thankfully, they weren’t overbearing, having him over every couple of days or so, respecting his privacy, but whenever an invitation came, he had to follow through.

Now, he couldn’t exactly tell his friends: “No, I’ll pass on spending time with you, I’m going to go watch muggle entertainment with my Gryffindor boyfriend,” could he?

Luckily for his relationship, though, the invites were rather old fashioned, called days prior, and that left him and Neville plenty of time to organize. The only person in their friend group that liked to show up uninvited or unannounced by an owl was Pansy, but she would’ve stayed in Spain until the mid of August, which meant Blaise could breathe a little without having to worry about her finding out his secret. Draco and Theo were way too busy in their official Death Eater work to even want to hang out with him in the mornings and afternoons anyway.

“What is it, B?” Neville asked, undoubtedly feeling the way his shoulders had tensed from up close. His hold on Blaise became slightly tighter, grounding and real, while still remaining gentle, letting him know that they were alright and, no matter what happened, they’d be okay.

Closing his eyes and leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder, he began to recount what he had eavesdropped: “When I was at Theo’s last night, his father and his uncle were talking about something that went bad for them the day before, so on the 27th, and how the Dark Lord was more than displeased. All I got were hushed words about a failed kidnapping, I believe, and how the Dark Lord had completely exploded against his followers in anger, even though he had no idea who to even blame and punish. But then his father moved onto a different topic and said that they’d have their victory in a couple of days anyway, that they needed to wait, that they couldn’t lose, that August would be their month of victory. But he didn’t explain what exactly he had meant, without a doubt to keep us ‘children’ in the dark. I couldn’t really understand much, Crabbe had gone off about some bullshit of his and they were speaking in a low voice on the opposite side of the table, but the intent was clear. Something big is about to happen.” “Blaise…”

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but they don’t fully trust anyone who doesn’t have the Mark. Besides, they consider us children, even Draco doesn’t know much and he let the bloody Death Eaters into Hogwarts! They know he’s loyal, or at least think so, ‘cause he was at some meetings with the Dark Lord himself. Yet they still don’t tell us shit. Not even to Theo, who’s more of a fanatic than a follower. And I am not going to taint my arm with that disgusting thing anytime soon, even if that would help. But it’s so frustrating and…” he continued, still refusing to open his eyes: he knew he should’ve told that story to Neville earlier, but he had got distracted by their date; he knew he should’ve contacted Professor McGonagall, warning her about what was going on and whose side he was on, but he was terrified he’d be intercepted somehow; he knew he was a terrible spy and that his motive was entirely egotistical, fuelled only by his will to keep Neville safe, and he couldn’t do anything about any of that.

War was coming and Blaise Zabini was powerless against it, unable to do anything concrete.

It wasn’t until he felt warm lips on his forehead and felt warm hands on either side of his face, gently holding him together, that he stopped his rambling. He usually wasn’t like this, letting his mind wander and his mouth running to catch up, at least not in front of other people, because it could potentially be dangerous and could bring unwanted questions. “Rule number eighteen: do not blabber, unless you intend to become a thespian and need practice for monologues,” his mother always said and he preferred to maintain a decent amount of control over the words that came out of him, never going into a rampage, unlike Draco did whenever he messed up his hair, yet never appearing bothered by the simple act of speaking, unlike Theo, who favoured monosyllabic replies to everything. His was always a perfect balance, studied to the last detail to make his speeches and his sentences reach the point and the mind of those who lent him their ears.

Rule number nineteen was: “do not fall in love with a thespian unless they’re a muggle actor from Hollywood,” yet Blaise knew he wouldn’t use that rule. Not anymore and hopefully not ever.

Still, of course, as it had become a routine in his life, everything about him became erratic and unpredictable when he was with Neville. He had found himself digress many times and he was always quite shocked when he realised how far he had gone from his initial path, much to his boyfriend’s delight and amusement. “I like seeing you ruffled,” he had admitted once, earning a copy of ‘Advanced Potion Making’ chucked at his head as they both laughed, with Blaise trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

“Blaise, my love, calm down,” Neville whispered softly against his forehead, hugging him closer and managing to reassure him without wearing him down with his own emotions, “I’m sure everything will be fine. The Order probably knows already that something’s about to happen. Besides, McGonagall’s in there as well, she’s not going to let anything happen, bad or not. Everything will be alright and I’ll come here on the second just like we planned to. You gotta trust me.”

He took a deep, steadying breath as he tried to ground himself back again. Neville’s presence helped greatly, as he had already told the other wizard countless times. “I trust you, more than anyone else,” he admitted, staring straight into his brown eyes as if they could hold all of the Universe’s answers, “But promise you won’t jump headfirst if something happens.” “Of course, I’ll stay home with Grandma as much as I can, when I don’t have my powerful Slytherin around to protect me. Besides, I’m pretty sure You Know Who will stay out of her path, she’s almost as scary as McGonagall!” Neville joked, causing Blaise to shake his head: Gryffindor antics were hard to knock off, it seemed. And, even if he was already wildly intimidated by Augusta Longbottom and she might make the Dark Lord reconsider his career path with her umbrella and her hats, theirs was not a topic to take lightly. “Neville, I’m serious.” “I know.”

Blaise scoffed at that and removed himself from their embrace, allowing space in between their bodies to better convey his message: “I know I can’t make you promise me you’ll stay put, ‘cause you won’t. But can you swear to me that you won’t risk your life recklessly?” he asked, unbothered if some of his desperation seeped into his voice. He knew he could let his walls down around his boyfriend, after all. “You mean like a Gryffindor,” came immediately the reply as Neville crossed his arms over his chest, now that he had the space to do so. “Nev…” “Only if you swear on Slytherin himself that as soon as shit starts to go down, you’ll get to safety,” he intercepted him, stopping Blaise before he could go on another tangent about House Values, “I need to know you’ll be careful.” Blaise nodded at that, he could understand the sentiment: of course his boyfriend would want him safe. But times were darkening by the hour and soon neither of them would probably know what safety even meant.

“Let’s make a deal:” he suggested, already knowing that Neville would agree to his plans, even if they were half-assed ideas about sneaking inside of a muggle library just to study and recreate the ambience of Hogwarts’ own, “usually I’m back from Draco’s around midnight. If nothing happens, we’ll just see each other in the morning after, as we planned. But if the world ends, meet me here at midnight. Sneak past your grandmother or stun her, since you won’t have to worry about the Trace by then. But just, come here, please.”

“The world’s not going to end, my love. Not on my watch,” Neville said, holding once again both of his hands in his and placing a soft kiss on his thumbs.

With the Gryffindor, it was all about the soft and subtle touches, the small moments. Blaise had dived into their relationship wanting to keep it hidden to avoid uproar by the entire school, yet he had been surprised when Neville hadn’t complained about their subtlety; he had almost expected the dorky plant-head to be the most PDA-indulging being in their entire school and it had been unexpected, yet not unwelcomed, his quiet way of giving affection, even when they were all alone and safe.

“Thank you, my mighty Gryffindor,” he replied with a flourish, pondering the pros and cons of bowing. On one hand, he’d keep up his theatrics that seemed to amuse Neville to no end, but on the other, he’d have to let go of his boyfriend’s hands, which was something he wasn’t willing to do. Neville, as always, resolved his qualm without a second thought: he playfully shoved Blaise away with a push from his hands, before pulling him back closer and making him crash against his torso. “Besides, it’s not like we’re not going to see each other before then! What did you say we would do again…?” Blaise saw right through his feeble attempt at distraction immediately: “Nope, I’m not going to tell you, it’s a surprise!” he exclaimed, placing a placating kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. He had already planned the entirety of their date since he found out the plant-head wouldn’t be free on his birthday: they’d start the day by having lunch at a Chinese restaurant Neville had particularly enjoyed and then they’d move to visit the Royal Botanic Gardens, allowing for them to spend the entire afternoon and evening there, since he already knew very well that his boyfriend would get distracted with every single leaf. And Blaise loved when Neville got side-tracked to talk about plants, even if he didn’t care about the ‘green things’ himself, so it would be a win-win. “Please, B, you know I don’t really like surprises!” he lamented, but Blaise was adamant on his position. “Mio caro, you’ll have to suffer then.” “You’re so mean to me.” Blaise kissed the tip of his nose once more, giggling at the way it involuntarily twitched under his lips: “Yeah, but you love me nevertheless.” What followed was a bad series of sloppy kisses and giggles shared between them as they walked in tandem next to the fireplace, miraculously avoiding tripping over furniture. They knew it was time for Neville to leave, but they were both incredibly reluctant to let go.

“Goodnight, then,” Blaise said, attempting without any real intent to put some space in between them, and he was almost immediately followed by Neville’s own: “Goodnight,” spoken directly against his lips as he removed his hands from around the Gryffindor’s torso, giving a little push to create some distance in between them. “I love you,” Neville sing-sang as he grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, waiting for Blaise’s reply before disappearing into the Network. “I love you too, but go before your grandmother decides to murder me for keeping her grandson away from home all the time!”

And with that, Neville Longbottom had gone back home, leaving Blaise alone in the quiet apartment, his laugh still ringing clearly in his ears against the deafening silence. The place always seemed to lose its warmth as soon as his boyfriend left and so he shrugged on a jumper he had ‘borrowed’ from the Gryffindor, without his knowledge and without any real intent on giving it back.

He was not as naïve as Neville was sometimes, still believing that everything would be alright in spite of all the signs pointing to Hell, but he knew that they would be together even if the world did fall off its axis, and that thought warmed him more than any fire could.

And with that, plus the jumper, he tried to fall asleep, ignoring the way his heart pounded at the uncertainty of his future.

But, of one thing only he was certain: he’d stay by Neville’s side and he’d stay at his, no matter what.

[cafcaf22]

Accidents Happen

Chapter 1.

Stardew Valley's newest farmer tends to keep to herself. That is, until she bumps into the Town Doctor. Accidents Happen, y'know.

For someone who works their ass off on a farm by herself each and every day, it doesn't seem like making friends would be the most difficult task on the planet. But it is.

You moved to Stardew Valley a little over a year ago, and you're still stuck in the same horrible cycle: Wake. Eat. Feed the animals. Water the plants. Fish. Eat. Sleep. The routine has yet to change. You spend the majority of your days in the same productive, yet monotonous routine. Motivation gets harder and harder to come by, especially as the summer season ends. This coming winter does not look like it's going to be your friend.

Some evenings, when you really considered the level of your loneliness, you've thought about heading over to the saloon to check in with your neighbors. You thought about it most during the hot days when you needed a refresher after a long day. However tempting a cold glass of beer may be after working up a sweat pulling hundreds of blueberries off the vines in the summer heat, you always ended up chickening out. A common thing for you. You wanted to try- you wanted to reach out, but what would you even say? Hi! I'm the girl who's been isolated on her farm for the last 4 seasons, it's nice to finally meet you! How weird would that be? You didn't want to cause a scene - you never really liked the attention that much, so it wasn't worth the attempt.

One day during the last week of the summer, you stopped by Pierre's to check out some fertilizer for the coming fall season. As you strolled the aisles, eyeing the shelves and brushing past the baskets of the daily offerings, you overheard a lot of chatter about hanging out in the saloon on weekends. The courage you'd need to show up there on its busiest day... Hell, sometimes even Sundays had great turnouts. I probably shouldn't, you thought. If I showed up, it would make everything awkward. They don't even know me that well, and how am I supp-

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a body being slammed straight into your side.

"Ow!" You yelped as your wicker basket was thrown onto the ground. You immediately clutch your left side in pain and feel a sharp piercing in your lungs, as the cold floor of the shop shocks your cheek. You blink at the ground, massaging your side as you try to inhale. But that's when you realize you can't. You blink rapidly, trying to take a breath, but the air never fills your lungs. You clutch your chest, trying to feel the rise and fall, but your heartbeat is the only continuous movement. The thumps grow faster, harder. You start to feel dizzy, clutching your chest on the cold floor. I'm hyperventilating. I can't breathe. Am I having an asthma attack? Oh, Yoba. I'm having an asthma attack.

"Oh- Oh my... I am- I'm s-so sorry! Are you alright?" A voice bursts from over your left shoulder as you double over on the ground in pain, trying to find your breath. Fucker knocked the wind out of me, you thought to yourself. You could barely breathe. I need my inhaler- Is it at the farm?  The voice continued to apologize, unsure as to whether or not they should step in to aid you. You tried to take another breath, but your lungs fought hard. Fuck, I- I can't breathe, I can't-

"I- I must have knocked the wind out of you..." The voice says to himself, but you don't even register it. You squeeze your eyes shut, clutching your side and focusing on the movement of your chest. It feels like nothing and everything at once. You inhaled to feel the cool air enter your lungs, but it didn't happen. Your body felt like a deflated hot air balloon. The voice continued on behind you, mentioning something about sitting up straight and taking deep breaths. You just want it to stop, can't it shut up already? I can't breathe, I can't-

"Oh my- here! Look at me!" The voice boomed, closer now. He was above you, blocking the overhead lights of the general store. You uncurled from your ball, struggling to breathe. All that comes out are course whispers.

"Inhaler..." You managed to grunt. In less than a few seconds, a cold plastic is pressed against your lips.

"Here," the voice says gently. "I- It's mine, but it will do." The voice spoke again. Everything suddenly grew blurrier, and the voice's words became slurred. You barely made out the deep green coat that blocked all of your view, but it was soft and warm against your skin. "Breathe in," the voice said calmly. You blinked wildly, remembering that you needed to actually inhale. You take a deep breath, and taste the medication as it enters your mouth, and flows smoothly into your lungs. You finally gained some sense back. As you sat back against the aisle of the grocery store, you glanced up for the first time.

Your savior kneeled in front of you, an anxious look spread across his face. Large brown eyes took over yours, encompassing you into his with no effort at all. You stared deeply into them, locked in a trance that never seemed to end as you swam in the honey that swirled within them. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose, ignored in the face of your injury and in dire need of a cleaning. A thick mustache framed the lower portion of his face, complementing the way that his cheeks sat happily above them. He smiled the most endearing smile you had ever seen.

"I am... so truly sorry." He spoke, words of pure velvet. This voice, you thought. That's the voice.

After a few moments of slow, medicated breathing, you were finally able to speak.

"Thank you... I think?" You whispered, glancing down at his hand that held a firm grip on your shoulder. He glanced down, recognizing his steel grip on your arm, and quickly released.

"Can you breathe a-alright now?" He asked, leaning back slightly after realizing how close he had been.

"Yes," you replied confidently while fighting a cough at the base of your throat. "I haven't had an asthma attack in months... I usually keep my inhaler on me, but I guess I left it at the farm," you muttered to yourself, attempting to stand up.

"Hey, let's be careful here," he chuckled, lightly elevating your elbow and guiding you to stand. You glanced into his eyes again, hoping to have his meet yours. He seemed to avoid any effort. "I am so sorry for running into you like that... I would tell you the reason why, but it will sound a lot worse out loud." He chuckled again, running a hand through the back of his hair and fidgeting with the pocket of his pants. You raised your eyebrow, giving him a curious look.

"W-Well... I usually stand out in the garden across the pavement, and there seemed to be a..." He drew out the end of his sentence. You narrow your eyes at him, a playful smile spreading across your lips. "A... bee."

You couldn't help but let out an ugly chortle, the first of a real laugh in months. You had barely mustered up a small smile since you'd been in Stardew, not to mention the horrors of your old 9-5 desk job for Joja Cola. To be able to laugh freely in the company of someone else made you feel years and years younger; it was a feeling that reminded you of how often you got to interact with others - which was not much. The laugh quickly turned into a nasty cough, your lungs screaming at you to calm down.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to laugh like that, it just kind of..." but you trailed off the end of your sentence in order to take in the beauty that was his laugh. He began to speak in fits of giggles, clutching his lower belly and covering his mouth in an attempt to stifle the beautiful sounds that escaped from his lips. His lips.

"No, I'm sorry!" He exclaimed in between giggles. You smiled awkwardly, unsure of how to continue on. You weren't the greatest at conversation, but it seemed like he wasn't either, so the two of you appeared to be comfortable in acknowledging the oddness of the whole situation. "I'm Harvey, by the way."

Your heart fluttered. Harvey. The man who saved me from asphyxiation. Well... The man who almost caused my asphyxiation.

He cleared his throat, and you realized you had been silent for a moment. You gave him your name and smiled, feeling your heart beat at the thought of finally having a friend. Maybe.

"How come I haven't seen you around at the clinic before?" He asked, eyes gazing into yours a little more intensely.

"Oh, I don't usually have any issues," you spoke quickly, trying to avoid the topic altogether. Doctors made you nervous. The ghostly white rooms. The empty hallways. The cold, metallic utensils pressed against bare skin. The intense questioning, and the way you're forced to admit things to a stranger about your own personal problems... Not a great way to spend your time.

Why would he mention the clinic? Does he- Oh... Fuck.

"So... you must be the Town Doctor?" You asked, kicking yourself on the inside for being so stupid. How could I be so stupid?

He blushed, and your heart soared. "You could say that, yes. However, I don't see many patients currently- which, I guess is something I should never complain about... I don't ever want to wish ill-will upon my patients. I don't think that's what came across, but I just wanted to... uh, make that clear," he sputtered awkwardly, attempting to save himself from embarrassment. His cheeks continued to flush a bright red. "Oh, and I understand that you don't necessarily have any... 'issues'... But feel free to come by my clinic tomorrow afternoon for an additional inhaler. Free of charge, of course. It's all that I can give you after certainly causing your episode today- which, I am still so terribly sorry for. I just really, really hate bees."

He spoke the words so quickly, you had to remind yourself to breathe as you comprehended everything he said. Mainly because you were busy staring into the void that was his eyes. Beautiful, golden brown. Heavenly.

"Of course, Doctor," you reassured him.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow!" He exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. You smiled in return and bent down to pick up the basket that had fallen just moments prior. "Oh, let me grab that for you-" said Harvey, beating you to the wicker basket. Your heads knocked together, clunking against each other as you both attempted to stand up. You both groaned, rubbing your heads and awkwardly glancing at the floor as if eye contact would cause another ruckus.

"Maybe we should wear helmets," you spoke softly, attempting to alleviate the awkward.

"Maybe," he sighed. "I'll see you around, Farmer." He smiled softly, and swiftly walked out of the store.

Farmer. How did he know I was a farmer?

[lov3nerdstuff]

Silent Waters

*Geralt of Rivia x reader*

Part: 1/?

Words: 4.6k

Imagine: After running into the infamous witcher himself, rather literally, you both soon discover that neither of you is quite what the other expected. And as adventure is never far from destiny's path, Geralt and you soon embark on a journey together neither of you could've foreseen.

A.N.: 💚 This is kind of a slow burn romance I gotta say 😁 but slow burns are so much brighter indeed, so maybe some steamy stuff in the future ^^? And kind of a big adventure ahead 😇 also a lot of insights into Jaskier, Geralt and their lovely friendship!

All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

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You ran as fast as you could while the wind whipped past your body almost painfully, catching onto your clothing and hair to leave it aflutter behind you. No, you couldn't slow down, couldn't stop moving forward, on and on and on… You had to find it, soon. Or any hope would be lost on you once and for all.

Stumbling over the occasional roots winding over the once mushy forest ground that was now starting to freeze over, you thanked fate that at least the full moon illuminated the woods around you enough for the tripping to be kept at a minimal. Yet whenever your foot caught onto a root, a vine, a hole in the ground deeper than it had appeared in the soft silver light from above, you yelped in pain as your body came crashing down on the frozen soil beneath you.

Not that scraped knees and hands would coax such an open avowal of pain from your long since chapped lips… but the scorching heat of your body, your skin aflame beyond the bearable, was even more agonizing without the freezing wind brushing over it as you ran. And yet the frostbitten ground did nothing to chill down your body at all. You needed water, and you needed it fast, or the curse would burn your skin beyond what any flame possibly could.

Scrambling to your feet, you ran on while forcing any and every tear away from your eyes, as they served for nothing more than to blur your anyway limited vision. Damn night… damn forest and damn cursed fog. No, damn the mage who had brought this upon your village. Thrashing on through the foliage, you simply ignored the thorns digging into your skin even through your protective garments.

Thump. Again your run came to a sudden halt when you collided with something tall, dark and broad. The force of your impact sent both you and whatever you had run into tumbling to the ground with a groan. After half a second of fighting the increasingly numbing haze in your mind down to the workable, your eyes met amber ones only two feet in front of you. A gasp escaped your lips both at the surprise and the renewing pain in your body, and for but a second you stared at what you'd run into, at who you had run into. A man with hair white as the full moon itself, glowing almost in a cool silver in this light, and eyes of the warmest swirling amber color… what a contrast. Yet you had no time to dwell.

"Fuck…" You hissed through teeth gritted in pain, then jumped back up to your feet and in an instant ran on through the dark, leaving the man sitting on his behind on the ground in irritation.

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Geralt's journey through the forest had been a slow one, cold and long and unbearably dull. Not that he minded the peace and quiet, but speaking from countless years of experience, peace and quiet were usually an indicator of something rather unpleasant yet to happen. He wouldn't be fooled by the calm before the storm, but neither would he dwell on it more than he had to. If whatever was to come could be avoided or ignored, all would be good. Yet the silence of the forest unsettled him more than he would have liked, for usually woods like this were everything but quiet even at nighttime. In equal silence he continued his journey towards the village that lay at the outskirts of the forest, leading Roach by her reins as the poor mare carried an unconscious Jaskier on her back already. The bard was as much a nuisance as he was a friend, admittedly, and while Geralt was seriously appreciating the silence that came with Jaskier's unconsciousness, he couldn't have left him behind. If Jaskier would ask about it later, once he was among the living again, Geralt would simply say it would have resulted in him falling out of favor in the kingdom, if he had imposed the bard on anyone else. Or he would simply say nothing at all, which was what he usually opted for. It wasn't that he didn't have anything to say, really… he did, in fact, have something to reply to almost anything. But while words were difficult, made to be misunderstood and misinterpreted, silence was easy. Horribly easy even, cursed and beautiful at once in its isolation spiked calm. If one didn't say anything at all, at least they couldn't say anything wrong.

His thoughts came to a sudden halt when his ears picked up the slightest noise to his left, and he urged Roach to stand while he walked a few more steps along the path… and suddenly he was knocked down to the ground by the impact of something crashing into him. Someone.

Slightly puzzled, he stared at the girl who had also landed on her butt just like he had. In but a second he studied her features, considering if she posed a threat to him, only to decide that she very likely didn't. Her clothes were torn, as much covered in dirt as he usually was, and her skin was scraped in multiple places. Yet what most struck him was the stone set beauty of her face, contrasting with the fact that her every muscle was tense and clenching, almost twisted in pain but unfaltering. A light sweat had broken on her forehead, but he couldn't possibly tell if it was for the run or her injuries. Her eyes drilled holes into his own for the second it took him to contemplate his next move, putting him under a spell that had his mind numbed and his body on high alert. However before he could act, she had uttered a single 'Fuck' and gone she was already, on into the woods to his right.

_______________

Acting purely on instinct, Geralt rose to his feet the second the girl had vanished and moved to tie Roach to the nearest tree. The girl had come from the direction of the village… and if she had a reason to run, he needed to know. Thus, leaving Jaskier behind with the mare, he took his swords just in case and followed after where she had disappeared between the trees. He didn't worry about finding her, even in the deep darkness of the woods… he was decent enough at trailing both monsters and men, and she didn't make it particularly difficult for him either. It left him to guess that she was rather running to something than from something, and the thought intrigued him. People this desperate to get to a place, especially in the middle of the night in a forest full of peril, usually had a reason worth investigating. Thus he followed her trail through the undergrowth, occasionally cutting his way through a maze of thorns that she must have simply thrashed through. His brows furrowed at the thought, as he found himself asking why someone would willingly hurt themselves like this if there were other paths available that promised less agony, and took less effort too. But he followed behind her nonetheless.

Indeed, a few moments later he heard a not too distant thud of sorts, and his steps quickened involuntarily, carrying him towards the origin of the noise. And suddenly there was no more undergrowth, no more thorns and thicket… Geralt found himself standing at the shore of a smaller lake. Rather a pond, really, but the exact size was hard to tell in the dark that loomed over the far edge of the water, bleeding into the blackness of the distant trees. Maybe it was a lake after all, he wasn't an expert and he really didn't care.

What did catch his interest however was the girl standing at the edge of the water. She had abandoned a belt that held two daggers on the shore, otherwise she was still fully dressed as she stepped into the water determinedly, but slowly nonetheless. Geralt considered making his presence known, but decided against it quickly. Whatever this odd creature was doing, he was intrigued to learn more before he would step out of the shadows.

And odd it really was, he realized, once he spotted the frozen edges of the water and the drifting pieces of ice floating on the black lake's surface. The girl must have a really good reason for willingly stepping into the freezing liquid, especially with all those open wounds. And with her clothes, for they would bring her no warmth after her bath, rather the opposite. Geralt couldn't help himself but simply stare at the scene in front of him, even though he realized he should probably return to his horse and his bard. But he found that even though he willed his legs to move and his eyes to look away, he simply couldn't.

____________

The water sloshed around your body, engulfing your being more and more with every step into its icy furnace. God, how only could ice burn as much as fire did? And still, you took step after step into the dark liquid that right now was both your salvation and your doom. A whimper escaped your lips as the water touched your ribcage, and you quickly clasped your hand over your mouth. The only thing that could've made your situation any worse was to attract monsters of any kind, and you definitely didn't need that right now. So you simply bit down the agonized cry that bubbled up in your throat by biting the back of your hand.

As soon as the water reached your lower bust, you started cleaning both your garments and your skin from the cursed fog's touch with shaky hands, trying to ignore the new pain you thereby caused for yourself. Really, it was ridiculous… the fog's burn needed to be washed off your skin with water, and it needed to be washed out of the fabrics it had touched. The only water which had been around was where you were in now, a partially frozen lake which in return burned in your wounds like a good dash of salt had been poured into the bleeding cuts. Just great. And in addition to that, the cold's bite hurt almost as much as the fog had in the first place. If the curse hadn't killed you yet, the remedy would. Maybe that was just your bad luck, or maybe it was fate telling you that you had lived past your welcome. Anyway, you hurt… more than you had ever before, likely. But you needed to hurry, needed to get out of the water before your limbs would become too numb to move. With one last shivery breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and dove under. The scream that had been burning on your tongue for the past minutes finally broke free from your control, drowned out by the water even to your own ears as you were surrounded by utter blackness but for the dull reflection of the moon far above you. With almost numb fingers you scrubbed over your face, before running them through your hair to get rid of even the very last of the fog's touch. Then you broke back through the water's surface, gasping for air as much as for its subtle warmth to fill your lungs.

You couldn't feel your toes as you stiffly tumbled back towards the shore, forcing your body to move on through the brick wall the water seemed to have become. The cold, it was almost gone now. No burn, no bite… only numbness and a black depth within you that you felt very tempted to sink into. But your mind was still alert enough to know precisely not to give into that desire and keep moving forward instead, until at last you reached the shore.

The water made your clothes heavy as veils of solid stone, and you found yourself crawling onto land on all wounded fours, panting and tired. Everything hurt, everything… you felt tempted to sleep yet again. Only for a minute. Only a little rest… your eyes fluttered shut before your remaining reason could argue your body to stay awake. Amber eyes flashed through your mind, before at last that as well was consumed by perfect darkness.

_______________

Geralt stood as if frozen to the ground at the edge of the clearing, staring straight ahead at the scene unfolding. He still couldn't fathom why the girl was doing what she was doing, but he had to admit that she did it well. Every movement was efficient, quick and certain, and she seemed to know that she was better off keeping quiet. All that despite the obviously agonizing cold she was surrounded by, and despite her visible, even if minor injuries… Geralt found himself almost as impressed as he was intrigued.

Once she dove under, the frown fell back onto his face and it deepened with every moment she remained gone from his sight. The seconds ticking seemed like minutes to him, until at last she resurfaced from the realm beyond his vision's reach. Geralt let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

His eyes followed her back to the shore, back onto dry land and up towards him a few feet only, yet not enough to spot him in the shadows. He doubted that she would have been able to see him even if she hadn't been so obviously in a haze of pain. But what concerned him even more was that her movements were slow, too slow to be a good sign. He almost found himself frowning again at the way she let out the faintest whimper before collapsing, and turning onto her back at last. Then she stopped moving altogether, for only the subtle rising and falling of her chest to tell Geralt that she was still alive. Barely.

She really wasn't his problem at all, and her fate wasn't his to meddle with… and yet his feet carried him towards her small form that looked almost eerie now that it was still and brushed in the silver moonlight. Serene.

He found himself towering above her for a moment, perching down at last, half a second before her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing slowed down even more. Almost simultaneously his mouth set into a grim line, and he sighed deeply in both annoyance and compassion. Fuck...

_______________

The icy water that still clung heavy onto the girl's garments slowly sept into Geralt's own linen shirt as he carried her back into the forest, through the thicket and towards where Roach must be waiting. He didn't mind that he grew colder, nor that his own clothes got more drenched by the second as he held her tightly against himself, in an attempt to keep her from freezing before he reached the horse and foremost his limited, but no less valued supplies.

As he teetered through the undergrowth in the dim silver light, he repeatedly asked himself why only he had to keep running into problems of this kind. The difficult kind, the kind that involved people. Well, this time the problem had run into him for once, rather literally… He almost snarled at the thought. But he would try his best to save her, as he had saved the annoying bard a hundred times before. Maybe even more, Geralt didn't keep count. Jaskier probably did, knowing him, to write a ballad or rime about it at some point.

Maybe that's what it came down to these days… him saving people. Slaying monsters, even if for coin, and protecting the innocent were two sides of the same medal after all, if one really thought about it. Still, he liked to think of himself more as a slayer of monsters than a savior of men.

"Geralt! Oh thank god, I thought… what, uh… what do you have there?" Jaskier blurted out the very second the witcher's silver head came into sight between the black briars.

"Get off the horse." Geralt ordered even before he reached them, and for once Jaskier obeyed without question and more or less awkwardly slid off Roach's back.

"You don't happen to know where my lute…" Jaskier started as he brushed invisible dust off his ever colourful clothing, but the menacing glare shot at him shut him up in an instant.

Geralt hoisted the girl up onto Roach's back, admittedly a little more carefully than he had tossed Jaskier up there a few hours back, and then moved to untie a blanket from the saddlebags to place it over her for now. The mare's warmth in addition to the blanket should keep her alive for a little while, but he knew that they wouldn't make it to the next village like that, not if he wanted the girl to keep all her limbs.

"Uhm… I know you're gonna tell me to shut up any second now, but I just have to ask… who is that?" Jaskier finally couldn't help himself and spoke up again. "What did I miss while I was… out? Did we kill another monster? Save a princess? Wreak havoc somewhere?"

Geralt groaned under his breath as he untied the mare's reins and started walking into the opposite direction of where he had just come from. They needed to find a place to spend the night, preferably somewhere off the paths and out of the still biting wind, and thus most of his attention was directed towards their surroundings and the drawing up of a plan to keep the girl alive. Jaskier however kept asking questions, making comments about how Geralt was even more brooding than usual, and finally went on to come up with his own stories about what had happened during his time of unconsciousness.

The witcher only sighed to himself, partially resigned for the peaceful silence from earlier was yet again replaced by the bard's unfaltering ramble, and partially annoyed for he had to remind himself every two minutes that he shouldn't check on the girl yet again. That was precisely why he didn't particularly enjoy traveling with people… he tended to worry, a lot. More than appropriate. And he didn't like that at all, neither the feeling he simply couldn't shake off nor the distraction it ought to pose to the tasks at hand.

_____________

It didn't take them too long to find a decent enough spot for setting up camp, and while Geralt tied Roach back onto a tree, Jaskier actually surprised the older man by making himself useful without being instructed to do so, as he moved to pick up more or less dry pieces of wood for his friend to start a fire with. Even if it seemed like that occasionally, Jaskier wasn't completely helpless out here in the wild, nor was he completely useless for that matter. It just took him some time to learn what Geralt had known and practiced for decades. Then again, it by far wasn't the first time they had set up camp after all, and it was by now more of a routine than a challenge.

While Geralt got the fire going a minute later, Jaskier started setting up their bedrolls around this magnificent source of light and warmth that one really only learned to appreciate once traveling in the wilderness for a while. But since he very well knew that Geralt didn't enjoy being watched while doing, well, anything really, the bard trailed back over to the girl who still hung limply on the horse's back, once he had finished his self-assigned task. Now with the warm glow of the fire a few feet away, he could make out her features at last, only to find her skin looking more blue than it should. With a frown, Jaskier rose his hand to move a wet strand of hair out of her face to get a better look, but he flinched back immediately once his more or less warm fingers came in contact with her chilled skin.

"Uh, Geralt… I think she's freezing. As in 'freezing to death'..." He spoke before he thought the whole thing through, and only then realized that this most likely wasn't news to his friend. That really happened more often than not, him stating the obvious… but he just was the kind of person who automatically shared any and every of his thoughts with the people he found himself liking. Which in this case was only the witcher.

Seeing as there was yet again no reply, nor any noise at all but for the crackling of the fire, Jaskier decided to take matter into his own hands. He wouldn't let the girl freeze back here if there was a perfectly good fire close by, and if Geralt wasn't up to help, he simply would do it without him… somehow.

With more reluctance than he'd ever shown towards a woman, he pulled the blanket away from her body and immediately earned himself a huff from Roach, who obviously had enjoyed the warmth as well.

"Oh hush, you… you're warm enough with your own blanket and all." He replied automatically, before rolling his eyes at himself. "Great, now I'm talking to the horse as well… and they say I'm the bad influence."

With more effort than he would've expected, he pulled the girl towards himself so that her body slipped off the mare's back slowly at first, but suddenly dropped into his arms with such a momentum that he could barely catch her. Still, he stumbled backwards as his arms threatened to give out for both the unexpected weight and the surprise of the impact.

Just as he took the tumble, her weight was suddenly lifted off his arms at the same time as he was barely kept on his feet by a strong grip on the back of his collar. It made the fabric dig into his throat uncomfortably, cutting off the airflow for the moment it took him to stand back straight on his feet.

"Geralt!" He croaked out, clearing his throat right after, as he spotted his silver haired friend staring him down with the ever same, ever annoyed expression. "I… I wanted to get her closer to the fire."

Geralt rose an eyebrow at the bard in silence while he hoisted the girl higher up into his arms to have a better hold on her. In the witcher's arms, she looked like a fairy, light as a feather or a lush summer leaf, while with Jaskier… probably everything but. Maybe she had way more muscle mass than those ladies at court he was used to, or it was the water clinging to the fabrics of her clothes… either way, he felt himself blush at his lack of strength. Luckily Geralt didn't see it, as he had already moved away towards the fire. Jaskier followed in an instant, and found he wasn't sure whether it was anger dancing in his friend's amber eyes, or simply the licking of the flames.

"I only meant to help…" He found himself saying in an almost sad seriousness. It was true, he had meant to help the girl. But he'd also meant to help Geralt, to take some work off his shoulders and be less of a bother for once. And as of usual, he had failed, which had only resulted in more trouble. Maybe he should just stick to writing catchy songs and let the witcher do the heroic business…

"You can let her have your bedroll." Geralt's low voice drew him out of his thoughts. "If you really want to help."

"Uh, yes, yes!" His mood brightened immediately. Maybe he didn't have to feel useless for the rest of the night after all. Cold, but not useless. "O-of course, she can have it."

_______________

Geralt placed her down on Jaskier's bedroll almost gently, as gently as he could anyway, and then went to cover her with his own blanket. He could feel his friend's eyes digging holes into his back, but the bard didn't speak up again. That was one thing Geralt had learned about his unlikely companion… as long as he was still talking, even if he was complaining and whining about something, he was fine. Only if he stopped speaking, one should start worrying about him. And this time it just appeared that he was feeling seriously down, by the looks of it, either with guilt or shame or sadness… Geralt couldn't tell without looking at him more closely.

He wasn't particularly good at comforting people, not good at all actually, because he simply didn't know how to. It wasn't something he did, for it wasn't something anyone had ever expected him to do, nor something shown to him in return. So now that his friend's sadness seemed to wrap around him like a cloak of gloom, he had no better idea to cheer him up than to guess what his problem was and subtly offer a solution. Like he had with the bedroll only minutes ago.

"Bard." He said at last, neutrally as ever and likely coming off pissed as ever too. "Get over here. I need your help." As soon as he had spoken those words, the energy shifted entirely.

"What? YOU need MY help?!" Jaskier asked incredulously, but followed command nonetheless and kneeled down next to his friend, in front of the girl in an instant. "What with?"

"Undress her, down to one layer and put the other clothes by the fire to dry. Make sure she stays warm." Geralt said, then sighed under his breath as he rose to his feet, grabbing his sword in the same move.

"Uh, where are you going...?" Jaskier asked immediately, voice laced with concern, but he didn't stop peeling the girl out of her drenched jacket for now.

"Finding us dinner." Geralt replied before he wandered off, out of Jaskier's view and out of the firelight's reach.

Finding something to hunt in winter, especially at night, was not an easy task as it was, but with all the recent distractions, Geralt's thoughts were everywhere but on the task at hand.

At least distracting the bard had worked, even if technically Geralt could've done himself what he had asked Jaskier to help with. He usually preferred doing things himself, for it was less of a risk than having another potentially screw it up. And somehow, he felt more uncomfortable about his friend getting the girl out of her drenched garments than he cared to admit, even to himself… not that undressing her himself would've been any better, really, in terms of discomfort. But it seemed that this was just the right thing to cheer Jaskier up, not the undressing, but being given a task that he could actually accomplish. Something that made him feel of use… And Geralt was fairly sure that Jaskier knew how to undress a woman most efficiently indeed.

As he made his way through the forest as quietly as the moonlight itself, he couldn't quite tear his thoughts away from her though. Her behavior had been so very odd, so reckless and mindless foremost, while yet he had gotten the impression that she had known precisely what she was getting herself into. What was horrible enough for someone to willingly jump into a freezing lake on a cold midwinter night, even if it rose the risk of dying to the almost inevitable? It truly defied any explanation, for now at least. Once she'd wake up however, Geralt would demand answers. But until then, he would likely do anything and everything to keep her safe.

__________________________

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As promised already, here's the first chapter of a new series I'm working on 😁 I hope you guys enjoyed it! If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments 💚✨ feedback is ALWAYS appreciated 💗

[bitchiha]

The Boxing prompt with Kiba !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All bark and no bite (The Rats 900 follower celebration!)

A/N: YAYAYAYAY HERE YOU GO SHAWTY!!! I was actually hoping Kiba would get this one and if he didn’t I already started a draft of it so he was gonna get one either way HSJAJSJS

Warnings: eventual NSFW, swearing, violence lol but non explicit its just describing the fight, also I just really exaggerated the money shawty Kiba makes from his fights because I wanted him to just fuck around and splurge LOL

There were two sides of Kiba Inuzuka: his bark and his bite. 

 If you were unfamiliar with the famous fighter - which would be highly unlikely considering he’s a goddamn star on the streets - then your first impression of Kiba would be that he was like a harmless Chihuahua, not at all like his fighting name that was plastered on posters on every street corner. The Wolf.

But to the newbies in the betting pools who are only doing it to satisfy their sketchy bosses, I mean come on... kids gotta be all bark and no bite, right? Besides all the good fighters are the quiet stoic ones... And Kibas done a good job of doing the exact opposite. Running his mouth with all his cocky smack talk any chance he could get, spitting teasing remarks about his opponents days leading up to the fight.

“What? That twig? I’ll beat his ass in my sleep.”

“Pffft. Not worried at all.”

“Oh thanks for reminding me, I forgot what that guys name was.”

So the newbies to the betting pools and underground fighting rings place their back-alley bets on his opponents victory. 

They’re always confident with their bets too, some placing large wagers, completely confident in Kibas downfall or hoping to impress their bosses. It’s not the newbies faults though, they’ve never done this kinda thing before. They all go to fucking Cape Cod every summer in their vineyard vines shirts, thry don’t know shit about the underground world.

Plus, Kiba’s one of the youngest fighters, he's only been an adult for a couple years. He doesn’t even know how to act when he gets his wads of cash after fights, spending it on fancy cars and designer clothes. Compare that to the scruffy looking men in their late twenties built like refrigerators and you can see where their heads were at.

Getting into their front row seats, (they figured they were gonna get that money back with the bet, so why not splurge for some good seats? See their bet unfold before them...) Their confidence only solidifies watching Kiba approach the ring in his silk purple robe, basking in the cheers with a toothy grin. He was lean and clearly fit, the untied silk robe exposing his abs and muscled legs.

As the cheers of the Wolf die down, the announcer calls out his opponent. It was a Russian name that was very butchered, but no one could pay attention to that as the guy walked out from the opposite side of the stadium. Another spark of smugness swept over the newbies as they gawked at the opponent. He was a bulky man, at least 6′3, this Inuzuka kid looked like a fucking kid compared to that hulking guy. They were so winning that bet. One of them turns towards the occupant of the seat next to him, gaining the courage to finally talk to the absolute hottie and asks if he could take her to real nice french restaurant a couple blocks away after the match (with his newly won money of course.) 

She declines effortlessly, that smug smirk mirrored on her own face. He thought to call her a bitch or something, pissed off with how she just brushed him off like that, but the bell rang and sliced away all the chatter and signalling the start of the match. The newbies go completely still as they watch Kibas demeanor shift from that little barking Chihuahua and into a frothing wolf. 

With his boxing gloves strapped on tight, mouth guard secured and the crowd chanting his infamous name (yourself included), he starts dodging punches like its a simple dance. Everything boyish about him is gone and as he throws his first punch, the Russian man unable to block it, the newbies get their first real taste of the Wolf.

It was like he was untouchable. Now the rookies realize why nobody objected to their large wagers against him, why they did their best to hide their own bets. They didn’t agree with them, they were just conning their way into debting up some newbies, so they could be just like the rest of them.

Kiba’s giant opponent barely landed any punches. Whenever it seemed like he was gonna land one his opponent immediately blocked it and got his own touch in. It was kind of comedical, watching such a buff and intimidating man struggling so hard, especially after the Russian was the one who challenged him to the fight. Something about how he was tired of the Inuzuka’s attitude and how he needed to get put in his place? So many others said the same thing it was kind of annoying at this point. Kiba just wanted to get the cash and to go fuck his girl.

Not too long after it starts Kiba has already won the match, he lets the announcer grab his arm and raise it up to the crowd in triumph, before slipping through the roped enclosure and stalking towards you. He offered to shake the bloody mans hand in the ring, but he just ignored him (or he couldn’t see, Kiba wasn’t sure.) That predatory look was still in his eyes as he pulled you into a sweaty kiss and as you pull away you have to wipe the blood from under his nose, despite the other fighter not getting much hits, the ones he did get in were painful.

 The crowd is whooping and once again chanting his name, but the newbies remain seated and watch utterly deflated. Seeing his big grin up close, they realized his canines were sharper than they had initially thought. 

Then there was his bark of course, too. And Kiba barked a lot. He always wants you dressed in the most expensive fur (faux!! this is kiba we are talking about) coats, Chanel purses and gold and diamond jewelry... He’s well dressed too, with real gold chains (the subtle ones) and of his own and rings and watches. Hell even your pet dogs have designer collars. What he loves the most is his cars though.

His bark is important to him because up until a couple years ago all he has was bite, his bark measley and mouse-ish, you still loved him then though. But look at the two of you now? 

After the match he’ll get you into one of his sports cars and have you count the cash he earned as he speeds through the city. One hands gripping your thigh, squeezing it with a smirk everytime you count another thousand. All that cash from one fucking match and he can’t wait to spend it all. 

The two of you’ll blow half of it at that fancy restaurant that loser had proposed to take you to, barely keeping your hands off each other for more than five minutes. Your ordering shit you can’t even pronounce and he keeps whispering in your ear about how he can’t wait to fuck his favourite little good luck charm. He’s pressing some sort of tiny dessert into your mouth and after you eat it he’s making you lick his fingers and then you do the same thing to him. You two are like the nights entertainment for the other tables, but neither of you really give a fuck. 

Dishes and glasses pile up on the table and the waiters become skeptical of how you two are going to pay for all of this, but your his last table before the end of his shift so he doesnt question the large wads of cash tossed on the table, then another one a few moments later as a tip.

Your back in his sports car and the engine is revving as you speed through the busy streets, ignoring the blaring horns of other cars because like I said before, neither of you really give a fuck. You two think you’re goddamn invincible. 

Stumbling up the driveway to your shared mansion you can hear the dogs barking through one of the floor to ceiling windows. Kiba opens the door and your dogs run out to greet you jumping and licking at your faces, only to lead them into the backyard as you to run up the stairs to your bedroom. 

One of your heels is still on and the other is downstairs somewhere, or maybe it’s in the backyard? Kiba’s shirt is half unbuttoned and he’s trying to shed the rest of them while unzipping your dress (you got mad at him the last time he ripped your dress off.) It’s all frantic and hazy, like it always is. Everything is just so intoxicating after he’s won a match. 

Once your out of your dress he’s shoving you to the bed and as you crawl onto it he follows suit, settling right on top of you as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He’s devouring every curve and crevice of your mouth and then he’s rutting his clothed cock against your stomach and growling into your mouth and your whimpering because your panties are absolutely drenched. 

You’re trying to take off his belt as he continues exploring your tongue, even though it feels more like he’s trying to go down your throat. There’s spit pooling down your chin and you don’t know if its yours or his, its a mixture of both and either way he has no problem with licking it off your face. Managing to take his belt off he pulls away to do the rest on his own. That look was back on his face now, the one he always had when he was in the ring. 

Despite how much Kiba tries to deny it, his bite was still much bigger than his bark. That’s just natural for the Wolf. 

[onemilliongoldstars]

“Come on Adora, where are you taking me?” Catra stalks a few steps behind her. Her nimble limbs and long tail would easily allow the girl to catch her if she really wanted to, especially as the overgrown ground beneath their feet, covered in vines and moss, is uneven and occasionally unstable. Catra though, chooses to linger behind, dragging her feet and bemoaning the loss of their warm bed. 

Admittedly, dragging her love from the cocoon of blankets and cushions in their Bright Moon apartments had been something of a challenge this morning. Catra loves to sleep in, a trait she attributes to years of 6am wake up calls in the Horde, and what she loves even more is to drag Adora’s arm around her waist and curl up so small that she fits in the bracket of Adora’s body, breathing her in. Pulling her to her feet this morning, before the sun had even risen, had been a trial that involved cajoling and threats, sleepy hisses and even the flash of dulled claws. 

It hadn’t helped that the moment Catra had risen, grumbling darkly, Melog had slipped onto the bed where they had been and curled up in a ball with a smug swish of his tail.

“Adora. Adora.” Catra whines now, and Adora risks a glance back over her shoulder, though she knows what she will find. As expected, Catra is glaring at her, her dark jacket thrown over her shoulders, and her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail that appears as wild as Melog’s mane in the dawn light. She’s pouting, sulky, and it’s all Adora can do to not sweep her into her arms at the sight and kiss her pout away. Instead she reaches back and offers her hand. 

Catra takes it, of course. She always does now.

Still, she complains. “Seriously, the sun isn’t even up yet. There had better be a good reason for this.”

“There is,” Adora assures her, squeezing her hand. She sets big blue eyes on Catra, “Trust me?”

Catra’s mouth drops open, protesting soundlessly, and she grinds over her response for a moment before admitting defeat. “You know I can’t say no to that face. It isn’t fair.”

The grouch is too much for Adora, who darts forwards to capture a kiss from her lips. Catra gasps, but it takes her only moments to wind her hands around Adora’s neck, her claws scratching so very lightly down Adora’s neck until she pulls away again. Catra stares at her, eyes wide and lips pink, and her expression twists with annoyance when Adora grins and begins to pull her along again. 

“Do you know where we are?” She asks, over her shoulder, and Catra springs over a vine covered lump to walk by Adora’s side, their shoulders brushing and their hands still intertwined. Every so often her tail flicks playfully at Adora’s hair. Adora watches her from the corner of her eye, looking for any flicker of discomfort, but Catra seems calm and a little exasperated when she answers.

“Of course I do, we grew up in the Fright Zone. You think I wouldn’t recognise it now even though Etheria has covered it with green stuff?”

“Do you mind being back here?” It had been a risk, Catra doesn’t often return to the Fright Zone, not even when they go to hunt for remnants of old tech. Adora knows she used to find it too unnerving to return, the memories of the Horde and their childhood prickling over her skin, but it’s been years and Catra is able to smile at her now. 

“No,” She answers and their years together tell Adora that she’s being honest. “At first it was… hard to come back here. So many memories.” A shiver runs through her and Adora can’t help but lean closer, still the protector after all this time. “But now... “ She casts Adora a quick glance from her yellow and blue eyes, and a rueful smile sits at the corners of her lips. “I suppose I remember the good parts more than the bad.”

The words bring a slight flush to her cheeks and she brings their hands to her mouth to brush her lips against Catra’s knuckles, and then disentangles their hands. “Race you to our old spot.”

She shoots off through the undergrowth before Catra can protest and behind her she hears the girl let out a bark of laughter, before hurried feet set a pace behind her. The Fright Zone really is a different place. In the years since they defeated Horde Prime the lush foliage of Etheria has taken over the metal structures and rough hewn earth of the old Horde stronghold. Some of the space has been cleared to make room for new villages and towns, but it’s only the bravest of Etheria who dare to return to these old haunts, and even Scorpia has chosen to make her home in Perfuma’s peaceful kingdom of Plumeria rather than returning to her ancestral home.

Still, her hands and muscles remember the push and pull of these familiar climbs and she throws herself up the towers with the abandon of youth. Despite her head start Catra passes her by easily, swinging her way past, her tail curling to keep her balance. She smiles down at her, her eyes glowing with enjoyment, and Adora grins back. Despite her smile though, nerves are fluttering through her stomach now and she swallows, trying to remember the encouraging words of her friends when she’d told them what she intended to do. 

It’s been years since that fateful day in the heart of Etheria, with Catra’s arms cradled around her, but she’ll never forget the sight of her face appearing in her most desperate hour or the outstretched hand that she’s clung to ever since. Her friends understand, to an extent- they fought as well after all, they lost people just like she did- but it is only really Catra who knows how much being She-Ra nearly cost her. 

She hauls herself over the lip of the tall mechanical tower minutes after Catra and finds her stood near the edge of the platform, where the railings have long fallen away, looking out over their childhood home. Adora joins her, linking their fingers together, and Catra casts her a smile over her shoulder, but her eyes are soft with thought. 

“It looks so different.”

“It does,” Adora follows her gaze to the luscious green jungle that surrounds them. Trees are beginning to grow between the ruins, saplings reaching up for the sky, and every so often she catches sight of a magical creature flitting through the undergrowth. If she fixes her eyes on the horizon and ignores the skeletons of metal groaning beneath the weight of the greenery, she could almost forget what it used to be. “I like it like this.”

“So do I.” The sun is just beginning to rise and the watery sunlight is golden, picking up the threads of lighter brown that have become prevalent through Catra’s unruly mane since she began spending her time under the bright Etherian sun instead of the fluorescent bulbs of the Horde. The girl in question turns to set her with a quirked eyebrow, “As nice as the view is, do you wanna tell me why you dragged me out of bed before the sun?”

“Oh, yeah sure,” She smiles nervously, digging her fingers in her pocket and closing them around the small golden wings that she’s been carrying for far too long. “I don’t know if you know but… Etherians have a custom… joining people together.”

Catra’s ears twitch curiously, her tail swishing a little impatiently behind her, but it says a lot that she doesn’t interrupt. 

“I know it isn’t something that we used to do in the Horde and I totally get it if you think that it’s stupid or not-”

“Adora.” Catra’s hand on her shoulder draws her from her rambling and she blushes a little, giving her a grateful smile. “Just ask me.”

“It’s called marriage, and it means that you pledge to love each other always. No matter what.” She pulls the wings from her pocket and unfolds her fingers, offering them out. “Traditionally you give the person something of yours, to signify that you love one another.”

Catra’s eyes are wide now and her ears are perched just so, just as they always are when she’s surprised. “Kind of like a Force Captain’s Badge?”

The words pull a laugh from Adora, and she nods, smiling. “Yes, kind of like that, but much more romantic.”

“So you’re saying…” Catra is staring down at the golden wings in her outstretched hand. “That you love me… and you’ll always love me? That’s what this is?”

“Y-Yeah,” Tendrils of worry are beginning to wind their way up her stomach and clutch at her heart now, and she feels a hot flush of embarrassment work its way over her neck and cheeks the longer Catra stares, mute. “You think it’s stupid, never mind,” She rushes to shove the wings back in her pocket, but a familiar hand clasps around hers, stalling her and when she looks back Catra’s eyes are wet with tears. 

“You really want me? Forever?” 

Adora’s lips part with understanding, and she feels everything within her soften. Her arms wrap around Catra’s waist and she draws her closer, until their bodies are flush and she can rest her forehead against her love’s, draw a tender hand over her cheek and murmur. 

“Don’t you get it? I love you. I always have.”

Catra lets out a watery laugh and this time it is her who wraps her hand around Adora’s neck and draws her in to kiss her, lips soft and affectionate and filled with the salt of their combined tears. 

Needless to say, Catra wears those wings for the rest of her life, and snarls at anyone who tries to touch them.

[fandom-meanderer]

Is it okay for me to request a fluffy one shot? where the whole class of golden deer (+ Sylvain, Dorothea & Felix) helps Claude to come up schemes on how to confess to a dense!Fem! Reader and everytime he tries to confess, it's always thwarted either by "I am Ferdinad Von Aegir" as he wants to help her in Lance or other students. Not even yelling I love you to the reader doesn't work as she's really that dense. Later, Claude approaches her and sincerely confesses to her and she accepts it.

Ohhhh yes, you know I love my fluff! Let’s get this fic going!

~

Claude watched you bounce into the classroom, Sylvain and Felix in tow while you chimed on about your morning. You took your seat next to him and he leaned back in his chair.

“Hey, (Name).”

“Hiya, Claude,” you grace him with a short wave before turning to your notes.

He has to be honest, the day the Professor successfully invited you to join the Golden Deer was the best day of his life. To him, you were perfect. Wonderful. Smart. Strong. He could go on for days on end on how much he loved you.

Oh, and he has. He has indeed.

~

“(Name!)” You stop dead in your tracks and turn to the house leader.

“Claude! Hello,” you smile. He feels his heart race even faster as he nears you. “What can I help you with, boss?” You joke.

“I think your wonderful, amazing, lovely, and perfect,” the words tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought, and he quickly caught himself. His facade always seems to break around you.

“Oh,” a slight pink rose onto your face, before your lips curved upward. “Thank you, I think the same of you.”

What.

“Okay, bye, Claude!”

“Wait!”

“What?”

“I love you!”

“Aww, that’s so sweet! I love you too!” And you quickly turned on your heel and walked off. Claude buried his hand in his hair and groaned.

~

And it continued like that for an entire week, you couldn’t be this dense, could you? Well, turns out, yes, yes you can.

“Ferdinand,” the Professor spoke up, and the said noble looked towards them. Claude blocked it out, right now, in his head, he was piecing together the perfect scheme to get you to fall for him. He then heard the chair screech next to him, causing him to snap out of his thoughts and look towards you.

“Where are you going?” He asks. You blink a few times.

“Oh, Ferdinand’s gonna teach me some Lance techniques,” you say, pointing towards the loud boy, who was half out of the door already. “I’ll catch up with you later!”

“Okay,” he watches you walk out.

“Oh ho, that’s so sad,” Sylvain laughs. Dorothea sighs and hits the back of his head with a book.

“I’m so sorry, Claude, he’s an idiot,” Dorothea frowns. Felix scoffs next to her.

“For once, I’ll have to agree with Sylvain, your relentless attempts are starting to become tiresome,” Felix states. He juts his thumb towards the door and raises his eyebrow. “Sylvain and I know (Name) better than anyone. And I’m telling you that all you have to do is give her a heartfelt confession.”

“No, no, no,” Dorothea cuts in. “You have to-”

“Oh!” Hilda and Marianne jump into the conversation. “Are we talking about Claude’s love life? Count us in. We have the perfect idea.”

“You have to be a man about it!” Raphael chimes. Ignatz looks up from his book and shakes his head.

“I think a nice-”

“Just take her out,” Leonie shrugs.

“I personally think that (Name), being the noble lady she is, wouldn’t ever date you, Claude,” Lorenz deadpans. The room falls silent.

…

“Wait! Wait, please, let me back in!” Lorenz shouts from outside. Byleth dusts their hands on their pants and locks the door. They look back to their students, their straight face never changing.

“Continue.”

“Okay, Claude, here’s the game plan,” Hilda sits in front of him, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

~

You look down at the note in your hands. All it said was a simple: “Gazebo, tonight once the sun sets. - C.R.” Your thumb grazes the initials gently, what could he want?

As you approach the gazebo, you almost do a double take. Was that really Claude? It had to be, his uniform was adorned with that yellow cape, but why did he look like that? His hair was slicked back neatly (Courtesy of our local Songstress) and he seemed more... poised? It didn’t sit right with you, who was used to his usual laid back behavior.

“Please, (Name), sit,” he gestured toward the seat in front of him and you complied. You looked at the set up around you, the gazebo was lit up by various small lights that wrapped around it like vines, the moon and the stars shone above you by now, and the gazebo was decorated comfortably with a mix of yellow and neutrals. Before you were three lit candles and what you assumed to be dinner.

“Is this... this is a dish from my home!” Your eyes sparkle.

“It is!” Claude smiles. He cheers in his head, Sylvain had suggested it to him, after all, maybe he was good for something after all. Then, a soft tune filled the atmosphere, it sounded like singing.

“Is that Dorothea?”

“It is, she said that she would be practicing tonight,” Claude places his hand on his chin, pretending to be recalling his classmate’s words.

“Oh, how wonderful,” you smile. You take a bite of your food and a beautiful mingle of flavors entrances you. “Oh, it is so nice to eat this again...”

“Favorite of yours?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you nod. You look up at him again and catch him staring. “Oh, is something the matter?” Claude reaches over and wipes a crumb away from the corner of your mouth.

“There you go,” he says softly. “How about me?”

“Hmm...” you look at him for a moment before reaching over and rubbing the top of his head, restoring it to its usual messy locks, then you pressed his shoulders down. “There you go, much better.”

“Oh... um... thank you,” he says. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Claude, anything.”

“Just know that I am one hundred percent serious about this, (Name),” he says. You nod.

“Go on.”

“(Name) I really-”

“Goodness gracious! What an odd place to see you two!” A new voice shouts. You jump in your seat as a new figure approached.

“Oh! Hello, Ferdinand!” You wave. Claude places his fork down on the table, a tad bit too hard, but neither of you noticed. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the lights and I got curious,” he laughs. Then you hear shouts behind you, and as you look back you see Sylvain stumble onto the path, followed by an angry and slightly awkward looking Felix. You can make out the conversation clearly.

“Sylvain!” Felix’s voice is shaky. “You... you idiot... You idiot! How could you have thought, how could you have believed that this would go well!” Felix throws a shaky hand behind him. Sylvain just shrugs. You continue to watch the scene, wondering if you should go break it up. Not realizing what was happening behind you.

Yes indeed, behind you, Dorothea lunged out of the bushes and tackled Ferdinand into another, covering his mouth and dragging him away while Claude processed that his scheme has ultimately failed. Finally he shook his head and tapped your shoulder. You look back at him and tilt your head.

“Let’s go back to the dorms.

“Lets,” you agree.

The walk back wasn’t awkward, so to say, you just felt like you were missing something big, which was important for you especially. Finally, you stood in front of your dorm and the two of you stand for a moment. Right as you reach for your door handle, your hand brushes against Claude’s, and you both immediately retract from each other.

“Oh, after you,” you mumble.

“No, no, you can do it,” Claude answers.

“Oh... right, it is my room,” you say. You reach for the handle and Claude speaks up again.

“(Name), wait,” he says. You look at him, resting your hand on the handle. “That thing I was going to say before we were interrupted...” he says.

“Yes?”

“(Name). I’m in love with you.” You stare at him, piecing two and two together. “I think you are the most... Gods, how do I say this? You’re perfect. You’re kind of oblivious, and you’re not the best when it comes to battle, but you’re just... You’re the perfect balance to us. To me.” You’re silent at his confession, and for a moment Claude’s hopes drop, just as he is about to cover up for his spiel, you take his hand in yours and smile, rubbing gentle circles on top of it.

“Claude, you’re such a silly boy,” you laugh lightly. “I feel the same. I have for a while now, actually. Why didn’t you just say something?”

...

You did not just say that.

Tell him right now that you did not just say that.

Claude clears his throat and hugs you, ignoring the burning pain for a moment and cherishing the moment.

“Have a good night, Claude,” you say, pulling away.��“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Claude opens the door for you and watches you walk in, before closing it gently behind you.

He turns around and jumps up slightly. Before him, hiding behind the pillars and bushes, is the entirety of the Golden Deer class plus the Professor themselves.

“What are you all doing here?” He whispers hurriedly.

“Moral support,” Byleth nods their head. Then they give him a simple thumbs up. “You did good.”

The door opens behind him and Claude jumps up again.

“Oh, Claude, you left-” You make eye contact with the Professor. “Oh, everyone’s here. Hello!” A collective chorus of “Hi”s and “Hello”s filled the yard in front of you. Claude sighs.

Maybe this scheme wasn’t such a disaster?

[tightropenuzlocke]

Chapter Six: Supernova Shining Bright

Route 5 had a skatepark of all things, but maybe that was to cut down on the number wheels in the city proper. The place itself was something to see, to say nothing of all the people using it—this one girl in a headscarf was really good! So Aisling and Tierney hung back to watch for a while. Aisling had always wanted to try skateboarding, but there was never enough pavement where she grew up to get properly into it. Might be something to pick up a little farther down the line. Maybe Tierney would be up for trying it with her—though her fascination could be more due to with some of the people in the the skatepark than the skating itself. And who could blame her?

The smell of burning fur interrupted Aisling’s musings and she cast around to find her new Charmander crunching what appeared to be the remains of a charred Minun. Time to stop lingering and get to work.

She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled piercingly to gather up her crew. Bree had never left her side and Gobán shot out of the grass to her, wings fluttering in readiness. Surprisingly, Finley appeared almost as fast and landed lightly on Aisling’s arm when she held it out. It was a nice change.

Aisling hated herself for thinking it.

Emer came bouncing along, babbling about a pond the wilds had told her was off to the north through the crops. Hmm. A watering hole like that was a good place to find battles.

Most of the fields were oats or lavender so Aisling forbade Ember and had her Charmander use Scratch on her wild opponents. The restriction irked her a bit but didn’t slow her much. She really was a ferocious piece of work, but that lust for battle was perfect for Aisling’s purposes. Honestly someone should be paying her for all the Bunnelbies and Gogoats she was clearing out of here.

Finley had to fly up and scout ahead to find any battles for herself and dutifully returned after each match to be checked over, while Íde continued to charge heedlessly ahead.  

“Leave some for me!” Gobán hissed at the Charmander’s back.

Emer found the pond and dove in for a swim while the others took a drink. Her buoyant tail bobbed along the surface as she swam beneath, sending ripples across the water that made the lilypads dance—all but one. A pair of big yellow eyes peered out from under it and burrowed into Aisling. The head was amphibian in shape and covered in dark brown mud.

Aisling leaned over. “Bree,” she whispered, “see that pokemon lurking under the lilypads?”

Bree squinted. “Oh yeah!”

“Think you could lasso it from here?”

Bree nodded and planted herself before hauling back and firing out a vine. The pokemon ducked but Bree’s aim was true thanks to all their practice. She slid a bit in the muck near the edge and backed up onto more solid ground to reel in her catch hand over hand.

With a final yank something bright turquoise and sparkling flew out of the water and flopped heavily onto the ground. Not a Froakie, but a Croagunk of a shade Aisling had never seen.

A shiny.

The Croagunk hopped to its feet and belched lavender mist as it struck Bree in the face with its tongue. The Quilladin flinched but her vine didn’t loosen so the Croagunk kneed her with a swift dark-type attack.

Aisling had Bree meet the next attack with Needle Arm and the sting of her quills was enough to put the Croagunk on the back foot. Bree had it pinned and beaten less than a minute later.

Bree backed off the Croagunk and it sighed in relief but flinched as Aisling approached.

“We’re not gonna kill ya,” Bree assured it. “You can be on our team!”

Aisling tossed her ball and the Croagunk disappeared in a flash.

“Oh! Whatcha catch?” Xoana and the rest had caught up. “Comtesse just got a Snubbull.”

Aisling let the Croagunk back out and they all gasped. Tracie whipped out her pokedex.

“Is that a shiny?!” Xoana yelled. “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe your caught another one, holy shit!”

“Hail to the shiny queen!” Tierney crowed.

“Croagunk is nice, I suppose, even if it is doubling up on fighting-type.” Serena really needed to step up her shade.

“Toxicroak is the shit,” said Aisling, looking at her new shiny pokemon.

The Croagunk shifted nervously from all the attention and nearly jumped out of her skin when Bree clapped her on the back. But Bree and Emer spoke encouragingly to her while Aisling’s friends continued to freak out, and she settled down.

Gobán slithered up to Aisling’s shoulder and hummed in pride and excitement. Her powerful Charmander settled by her feet.

The luck god still smiled on her.

...

Serena herded them all back towards the path so that they “would reach the hotel before dark” before Xoana could really finish processing Aisling’s second shiny catch. Xoana couldn’t help glancing back again and again to check that this was real. Each time the Crogunk was still there, sparkling like the southern sea as it trailed behind them all.

Predictably there was another, almost as urgent pull at her attention. Aisling had a little more swagger in her step again and she held her head high, exposing a strip of her freckled neck above the collar.

“Korrina!”

Xoana jolted out of her contemplation with a flush rising to her own neck. Serena was already bounding forward to meet the young woman and her Lucario. Korrina waved back and hit the brakes on her roller blades, causing her long, blonde ponytail to swing forward over her shoulder. 
Aisling leaned into Xoana’s periphery and nodded to Korrina questioningly.

“The Yantreizh Gym Leader. We’ve, uh, known her for a bit.”

“Nice,” said Aisling with a grin.

Maybe at the beginning it was. Now… Xoana didn’t want to think about. Though she probably should. Korrina was more or less the reason they were all here—all but Aisling anyway. Serena had wanted to enter Prof. Sycamore’s program rather than train with her mother since Korrina had taken part and come out the other side as Kalos’s youngest Gym Leader. Now she was an idol of mega evolution to rival Diantha.



“Hey Serena! Hi Xoana!” Korrina chirped.

Xoana was a little energetic herself sometimes, but Korrina made her tired.

“How have you been?” Neither got a chance to answer. “I already know! I heard you both got into the mega evo program! That’s so awesome! Up top girls!” She offered them both a high five which Serena eagerly accepted. “I’m so pumped for us to have a real battle, so work hard okay?”



“Of course! I look forward to it!” Serena chirped. Gods the bald-faced admiration and need. It was like looking in a mirror—or a window into a past she was not keen to return to. 

Which is why Xoana looked away and noticed the Lucario getting up in Aisling’s space. She held her ground even as the pokemon’s aura sensors stood on end and her Dunsparce hissed from her shoulder.



“Artemis!” Korrina reprimanded. A sharp look passed between them before the Lucario reluctantly stepped back. “Sorry about that…?”



“Aisling.”



“Aisling,” Korrina repeated. “Nice to meet you! You’re in the mega evo program too.” She held out her hand and glanced at her Lucario again. “Artemis says you have an interesting aura. She’s never seen anything like it.”



“Really?” said Aisling, betraying nothing. “Neat!”



They didn’t get to talk for long before Serena butted back in and Xoana tuned right out. The jealousy was more than she could take. Sure Korrina was gorgeous and talented, but that kind of laser focus came at the expense of other things. Xoana just didn’t see the lasting appeal.

At some point Korrina noticed the bright turquoise frog with them and that understandably derailed the conversation for a while, though of course Korrina would never be gauche enough to ignore Serena entirely—just Tierney and Tracie.

Xoana’s gaze drifted from Korrina to her Lucario. Having been forbidden from investigating Aisling more thoroughly, Artemis had turned her attention a little more covertly on Aisling’s team, scrutinizing each in turn. If there was something odd about Aisling’s aura, would it effect her pokemon? Was that a thing? The whole aura business was more in the realm of pseudo-science except for the fact that some species of pokemon could very clearly see them. Maybe unexplored was a better term.

“Well, Artemis and I should be going but I’m so glad we ran into you all!” Good. It was almost over. “I’m sorry again about Artemis. She forgets about the proximity thing.” The irritated flick of the Lucario’s ears suggested otherwise, but she dipped her head in apology as required. “I can’t wait to see you all again in Yantreizh, especially you, Aisling.”

She skated leisurely away and her Lucario jogged behind her after one final lingering look at Aisling. Serena waved even though Korrina didn’t look back.

“So,” Aisling began in that tone that meant she was about to start something. “How long you been nursing that crush, Comtesse?”

Xoana turned her head slowly. It was like she was being transported to a parallel universe.

“Wh-what?” Serena stuttered.

“You heard me.”

Xoana was clearly imagining this. She was having an intrusive daydream, nothing more.

“It’s not—!” Serena paused and adjusted her tone, “a crush.”

Aisling nodded, lips tightly sealed and eyebrows hitched all the way to her hairline.

“I just admire her.” Serena started walking again to avoid Aisling’s increasingly triumphant expression but didn’t have the sense to stop digging herself deeper. “She’s not that much older than us but already so accomplished. And she’s so nice, you know? And she always has been. Xoana and I have known her for years.”

Serena continued but she was no longer looking their way so Aisling leaned over and whispered to Xoana: “So I’m hearing,” she counted off on her fingers, “absolutely a crush, totally legal, deeper than that hot bod, and years now. That about sum it up?”

Xoana covered her mouth but still snorted audibly. Serena came back to earth and Aisling covered her with a cough.

“Sorry.” Another totally phony cough. “Please do go on. I’d like to hear more about her.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed suspiciously but she couldn’t resist the urge to monologue about Korrina for very long. Tierney and Tracie pulled ahead so that they wouldn’t have to participate and Xoana and Aisling stayed a step behind. Aisling leaned in again when Serena was sufficiently distracted.

“Have you tried telling her how gay she is?”

Yes, but it wasn’t something she could do again. “Have you tried telling Serena anything?”

Aisling laughed.

“Maybe we should go straight to Yantreizh?” Serena fretted, turning to them.

Xoana and Aisling leaned away from each other to look a bit less like conspirators.

“Sounds great! Just a quick trip over the mountains!”

“We could—”

“I’m joking,” Aisling cut her off. “I wanna see the beach this summer.” Serena threw Aisling her dirtiest look and opened her mouth to argue. “Besides which, we’re not ready. Don’t you think we should have at least one more badge under our belts before we face her?”

Serena swallowed whatever she was going to say and gave it another moment’s thought. “You’re right. It’s important that we be well-prepared for the Yantreizh Gym. We need to make the best impression possible on Korrina—since she’ll be judging whether we’re ready to proceed in the program.”

Xoana and Aisling nodded, trying to keep their faces serious. They let her keep talking and slowly the vision began to fade. It was slipping away like a dream upon waking, and Xoana snatched at it.

“You—you see it too, right?” she asked softly.

“Oh, absolutely.”

Aisling’s unqualified confidence loosened something in Xoana’s chest. Perhaps it was more than one thing. She’d been ignoring that tightness so long it was difficult to say. There were ugly emotions, tangled with the rest. She couldn’t tease out one without bringing the whole mess to the surface. Or she couldn’t before. Maybe with some more time, some more gentle loosening, she could unravel a bit more of herself. She could find where it belonged and weave it in properly.

“What’s so interesting about your aura?” Serena asked as casually as she could muster—which approximately equated to the demeanor of a detective in an interrogation.

Aisling shrugged. “Donno. Can’t see ’em.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed again. Aisling pretended not to notice, but that wouldn’t stop Serena—not when there was a challenge before her.

“Maybe we should have another battle. A rematch.”

“Sure. Sounds fun.”

They sent their new catches out first and Serena had her Snubbull use Charm right off the bat to even the playing field. Aisling had her Croagunk counter with Astonish, which succeeded in tripping the Snubbull up and reclaiming the advantage until she made the mistake of using Mud-Slap. Sure it rendered the Snubbull half-blind, but it also sent her into a frothing Rage that spooked the poor Croagunk, setting her up for a Headbutt to the gut that knocked her right out of the battle.

Aisling flinched a little and withdrew her before sending in Emer to hose the furious Snubbull down.

Serena and her new catch didn’t much appreciate the consideration. She sent in her Squirtle, only it turned out to be Justine using Illusion to close. Emer was tougher now, but Justine fought furiously to take care of the water-type and prevailed with Serena’s quick orders and encouragement.

Xoana called Emer over and tended to the downtrodden Marill rather than let her be withdrawn looking so disappointed.

The triumphant Zorua lasted mere seconds against Aisling’s Charmander, who didn’t even flinch as Serena’s actual Squirtle stepped up to face her.

“Wait for an opening and use Scratch,” Aisling commanded clearly and calmly.

“Water Gun, Laurent!”

The moment of hesitation made it clear that these two knew each other. Shockingly the Charmander did as she was told and dodged the first volley before raking the Squirtle. He withdrew into his shell but she continued her assault until he was able to use her wind-up to nail her right in the face with Water Gun. Even the point blank hit wasn’t quite enough and she struck him savagely across the face, laying him out.

Aisling whooped and her Charmander looked down at her opponent in satisfaction, tensing in gleeful anticipation as Félicité stepped up to challenge her. Serena’s brows set and the Fennekin blasted into Íde with Flame Charge, not to do damage, but to gain speed. She danced clean away from the Charmander’s slashes with the boost and scratched up her chest and face until she fell.

Félicité evolved from the victory, rearing onto her hind legs as she transformed. She flexed her far more dexterous paws experimentally, ignoring Justine’s excited yipping and hopping behind her, but sharing a glance and a smile with Serena.

Aisling looked to Gobán, still on her shoulder, and nodded. The flattened serpentine creature leapt gracefully down and Félicité met her with an Ember. Gobán emerged from the blaze covered in rock and knocked Félicité clean off her feet. She used Flame Charge to get clear of the next hit and scramble back up onto two legs. She danced to the side and roasted the Dunsparce again, but it didn’t do much but warm the rocky armor before Gobán rolled back out of range. Félicité took a deep breath as Gobán went into the turn, gathering herself, and blasted the Dunsparce with one continuous stream as she came in again. Serena’s fists clenched tight, willing strength into Félicité’s flames. Gobán barreled into her head, knocking her down again and slamming into her a third time as she tried to rise. Félicité yelped and Justine whined.

For a moment Serena paused, but then her eyes met Félicité’s and she hung her head.

Gobán came to a halt and shed her rocky casing. Heat haze drifted off the pebbles and some of the Dunsparce’s scales were discolored. But she slithered back to Aisling, wings fluttering and pleased as anything.

Félicité forced herself to sit up, clutching at her side. Serena knelt to look her over, and Justine fretted by her side.

“Good battle, Comtesse. That was even closer than last time,” Aisling remarked. “You nearly had us.”

But of course that was no consolation to Serena, who thought she should have had it in the bag. Xoana stepped in to shift her focus.

“Félicité evolved! That’s so awesome! We should all keep our eyes open for a stick she can use as a wand!”

Serena was still sullen after that, but it did get her moving on towards Fort-Vanitas.

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 8 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

Human nature. With all its complexities and flaws, was now the one thing that presided over a land filled with the dead. True human nature, in its most naked, exposed and unapologetic form was now both the best and worst of the world. Jess had seen the best and worst of it from her spot in the city and had managed to live, unnoticed by any survivors passing through. She’d witnessed grown men put themselves in harms way, sacrificing themselves to save children too slow and small to keep up the running pace of the adults in their group as she’d watched from her perch on the corner of the roof. In contrast, she’d stared in horror as another group simply tossed a woman out of a truck like last night’s burger wrapper, onto the street in order to slow down a small herd. She’d been bitten before Jess could grab her bow and race down the stairs. In an act of mercy that allowed her to prove to herself that she was still on the good side of human nature, she’d shot the woman in the head from the roof with a well-placed arrow and spent all night replaying the look of pure terror etched onto the stranger’s face.

Yes, human nature was complicated and destructive, inspiring and devastating. A double-edged sword. Jess was better off on her own, that much was true, but she did miss the conversation, the debate, the ideas swapping over hot chocolates and the late-night hilarity that came from a few glasses of beer and games of pool in a bar. Those days were gone and now all she had in the way of company was a reanimated dead body at the bottom of the elevator shaft and a huge stuffed bear wearing an army jacket that now took up it’s place opposite her on the roof, a stale birthday cake waited to be devoured between them on an upturned, wooden box.

“Well, Sgt Pepper. Looks like it’s just you and I celebrating another trip around the sun.” she commented as she held her glass aloft.

Merle had finished off all the whiskey and she knew better than to go scrounging for more. It wasn’t a necessity and she wasn’t about to get herself killed for a bout of nausea and a fuzzy head the next day.

The bear was tatty, threads pulled from his ears and his jacket splattered with dried blood. Jess found him in the next apartment block where he’d been positioned proudly on the pillow of a perfectly made bed in a room decorated for that of a young adult. On the floor were three bodies, two adults and a girl around 13 years old. Jess carefully nudged each one with her foot as she passed. The bullet holes in their heads told her that they hadn’t turned and like many of the people that chose to remain in the city, they thought suicide to be a better prospect than the exhausting slog to survive day by day. It hurt Jess’s heart to think that some souls felt there was no other way, but it wasn’t an option she could say she hadn’t considered at least once while she resided in her fortress of loneliness.

It was a no brainer to her. She had to leave with that bear. He reminded her so much of her own childhood companion, jacket and all. Her father had gifted it to her and during every tour and every training exercise, she found comfort in the military bear that she had dubbed ‘Sgt Pepper’. Aware that if any other survivors were passing through and saw her, she would look positively ridiculous, scurrying across the rooftops with a huge stuffed animal under her arm. But just as before the turn, she wasn’t going to change who she was to suit anyone else. Especially not in the apocalypse.

“You say it's your birthday” She sang at the bears pinned and permanent smile. She sipped the soda in the glass and slapped her other hand on her thigh to create a beat. “It's my birthday too, yeah”. She paused, looking up at Sgt Pepper as if his plastic eyes would change their expression and for a fleeting second, she was disappointed when they remained exactly the same. She raised the glass to him for a second time. “They say it's your birthday, we’re gonna have a good time” She thudded the glass on the box and began to pluck at imaginary guitar strings, closing her eyes and leaning to one side. “I'm glad it's your birthday, Happy birthday to you!” The Beatles were her favourite band ever since she was a child and that was not something that was going to change just because they and their audience weren't around anymore. Jess was still there and as long as she was, so was her love of their music. She'd found headphones while scavenging, even and old portable CD player, but her rule of keeping a clear head and always being aware of her surroundings meant that the headphones went untouched and she was reduced to singing to herself to stave off the boredom and silence. It wasn't a problem to her, she knew all of the lyrics anyway and there was no one but Ben and Sgt Pepper to complain about it.

Her eyes lowered to the dried birthday cake. Three, colored, marzipan Balloons floated across the top and the rim was adorned with cracked and discolored frosting. The chances of a strong bout of stomach cramps after consuming it were high, but it was her birthday and she was going to have a damn cake if she wanted to. A single candle flame flickered in the center of the off-white frosting and as she blew it out, she wished that she would survive long enough to see mother nature take back the earth. To reclaim what was hers and what was destroyed by the arrogance of human nature. She wanted to see vines and branches seep into the cracks of buildings, pulling them apart and turning them into a ghostly mirage of what once was. But through it all, she wanted to be around, content and safe and able to live into her old age while still being the survivor she had realized she really was.

She also wished for something else; that one day, Daryl would know how much he inspired her. If nothing else, she wanted that for him. Without his guidance, his training and his words, she was certain she would be dead. He may have broken her heart, but at one point, somewhere in between all the angst and anger, he believed in her. She regretted not writing it in the note she left pinned to the tree but time was of the essence and she had to think quickly. Now, when she thought back to the good times spent tracking and hunting in the woods, putting Walkers down and making fun of one another, it made her smile. A smile that was not through genuine happiness. Far from it. It was a smile of sadness for times that she desperately missed. But they were times of blissful ignorance of how he really felt, times based on a lie. She pressed her eyes shut and quickly shook the thoughts from her head. She watched the thin, sliver of smoke drift up from the wick. Picking up a plastic fork, she stabbed the cake and shoveled a large piece of the sponge into her mouth. Wincing at the dryness, she chewed and swallowed hard. It was like eating sand.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.” She sighed.

She had resorted to guessing the time of day by using a sundial or her hands against the horizon from the roof. Her knowledge of such historical practices had proved to be invaluable and she now appreciated her interests much more than she ever did before the turn. The night was creeping in, dulling the view from the roof and creating a cold sting in the air. There was just enough time for some target practice.

The streets below the apartment were far from clear. Walkers milled in and our of side streets and alleys, some amassed in the middle of the road and if it wasn’t for Jess’s diversion tactics from time to time, she was sure the street she lived on would be clogged with festering corpses by now. Fireworks were usually the best, she’d found. They seemed to like fireworks. The dreamer in her liked to think that maybe the noise and the colors stirred something deep inside their mainly inoperative brains, some kind of distant memory of 4th July firework shows or new year celebrations. But the realist side of her knew differently. Now, they were even lower than most animals, driven to move by sounds but completely devoid of thought or any type of feeling. Just shells.

She picked up her bow and slid on her bracers as she approached the small wall that lined the edge of the roof. The faint murmur of the odd, swaying Walker was the only sound that rose from the scene below. Taking a peek over the edge, she nodded in approval at the numbers.

“That’ll do.” She said to herself before picking up a small, children’s chalkboard that rested against the inside of the wall. Her eyes flickered over the names on the list, selecting the first one and shuffling forwards to get into position.

“OK, Madonna. Are you out tonight?”

With one foot placed in front of the other, her body turned and her stance strong, she raised the bow and nocked an arrow. She smiled when she noticed her. A blonde woman with wavy, hair wearing what appeared to be a thin, satin nightgown. She wasn’t as designer clad as the real thing, but she would suffice as a target. She drew the bow string back and exhaled slowly as she took aim. The Arrow embedded in the side of the Walkers head as if it was nothing but a bag of sand and she hit the floor, causing the others around her to start shuffling towards her.

“Oof!” She exclaimed with a fist pumped in the air. “That one was a ten pointer. Sorry, Madonna.” She marked her score on the chalkboard next to the name and checked her next target.

Sarah.

It was now a habit, each time she re-filled the board with names, Sarah and Jodie’s would always be mixed in somewhere. Jess was never one to remain bitter or hold grudges, too many so-called friends had come and gone over the years to make sure she’d got used to it. But she was also never one to not make an exception for some things. When she was feeling low and having a bad day, the list of names on the board changed and she wondered at one point if she should indulge in an ‘abhorrent people target practice day’ once a week, where Sarah and Jodie’s names could mingle with the likes of Hitler, Robert Mugabe and Vlad the Impaler. But it was yet to happen because she wasn’t bitter. Not at all. Or, so she told herself as she chose a doppelganger of Sarah and took aim.  

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Ben was hanging on the bars of the elevator gate when she descended the stairs, his arms were loosely draped through the gaps and his face was pushed against the cold metal. She lifted a hand in acknowledgement before sitting down on the bottom step in front of him and seeing him try to reach out to her. She held her hand out, gently tickling his grasping, blackened fingertips in what could have been seen as a gesture of affection.

“Hey dude. So, my birthday cake tasted like feet but it was one hell of a pity party you missed.”

The sound of her voice was like fuel for Ben. He instantly began to clamber up from his spot, hanging through the gate and started to snarl at her, his mouth hanging open and his teeth bared.

“Not that I know what feet taste like.” She added, her eyes locking on his now cloudy, pale and blinded orbs. “I guess you might though. Depending on how long you’ve been locked in there.”

Stepping back, Ben’s arms dropped from the grate and he stumbled backwards, his body hitting the back of the elevator and causing it to shake. A slight jingle caught her attention and she froze, straining her ears. As he moved back towards her, his pocket gave off a tinkling sound and Jess quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together. Many a week had passed when she’d been sitting on that same step engrossed in a one-way conversation with the dead man trapped inside his cell. Sometimes she even contemplated if he really would try to hurt her if she managed to somehow release him from the confined space he occupied. But then she reminded herself of her own naivety and how that kind of thinking could get her killed. Ben was a Walker. A mindless, stinking, lump of useless flesh but still a predator in his own right.  

“You have the goddamn keys to the elevator in your pocket, don’t you?” She asked him.

He stilled and her eyebrows raised. She knew better than to think he could understand her, but it was strange nonetheless. The keys would change everything. She could get him out of there and actually make use of him. She sprang up from her spot.

“I have an idea. Wait here.” She told him. After striding up two steps she rolled her eyes and sighed at her own stupidity.

Like he’s going to go anywhere.

When she returned, she placed her supplies in front of her; a cylindrical block of wood with a dish cloth tightly wound around it, attached at either end to a string of thick, rubber bands, a hockey mask and a length of rope tied into a slipknot. Another one of her skills acquired from the thousands of books she had now amassed in her apartment. She paced back and forth for a few moments, observing how Ben followed her every move from behind the barrier like a magnet. Although she was almost certain he was blind, he was completely obsessed with her and she huffed with amusement when she figured that he was only guy that had ever been obsessed with her…and he was dead.

She picked up the block of wood and tilted her head to the side, it would fit through the gaps perfectly but her task was not going to be easy. Her left arm was covered with three, thick layers of tape, strapped over a Kevlar sleeve and glove in case Ben fancied a snack halfway through his rescue mission. She was now glad of her forethought. She threaded her arm through the grid, silently and without rattling the metal. Ben, who could detect no sound whatsoever, merely peered around through his useless eyes as she used her armor covered hand to quickly grasp the back of his head. He jolted and began to gnash at her, the sounds bubbling up from his throat as his lips parted provoking a rush of bile from her own stomach. She couldn’t have prepared for the smell or the sound of liquidated, rotting human organs no matter how much she knew about Walkers. She snapped his head back as he grabbed a hold of her police issue vest and dragged her forwards, slamming her body against the gate. With her other hand, she managed to wedge the piece of wood so far between his jaws that they became locked in position. She quickly stretched the string of bands over his head, creating a most macabre and brutal gag but an effective one regardless.

He thrashed and growled, throwing himself at the gate over and over until Jess was able to shove a hand into his pocket and pulled out the biggest bunch of keys she had ever seen. Her heart dropped as she stepped back and sat down, the racket of Ben desperately trying to get to her now drowned out by just how many keys she had to contend with.

“Guys got the keys to every lock in the city on here.” She mumbled.

She began sorting through them, checking the branding on the lock and looking for a match. She must have gone through at least twenty keys before she stopped and pinched one particular one between her fingers. She looked up at the lock again.

“Nova” She whispered.

The key boasted the exact same branding. She stood up, moved closer to the lock and slid the key into the chamber. Holding onto the gate as tightly as she could, she gently and quietly turned the key, a subtle click made her smile. She’d found it. The whole time he’d been locked inside, Ben possessed the key to his freedom all along. At first, she didn’t know if someone else had thrown him in there but now it was evident; he’d been bitten and locked himself in.

“That was noble of you. But this is my apartment complex now and you’re going to earn your keep.” She quipped, swiping up the hockey mask and rope from the floor. She shoved the mask under her arm and released the lock, slowly sliding the gate back. The rattling noise sent Ben into a frenzy and he collided with the gap she’d created in the gate with such force that she doubted her ability to follow through with her plan for a moment. She took a deep breath, reached into the gap and snapped the mask over his gagged face. Next, she threw the rope around his neck and pulled it tight before throwing the gate open.

He threw himself at her, knocking the mask against the side of her face while she tried to tighten her grip on the rope enough to keep his head away from hers.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m pleased to see you too buddy.” She remarked.

Ben couldn’t have been more than 30 years old when he was alive and Jess gathered that even thought he was now deceased and extremely dangerous, he was once a good-looking guy. She felt a pang of sympathy for such a wasted life. But what else was left to hang around for? The experience of wresting the undead from elevators and up the stairs to a roof wasn’t one she’d wish on anyone else. By the time she’d maneuvered him to the top of the steps and shoved open the heavy, metal door to the roof, he’d quieted considerably. Jess knew Walkers didn’t get tired; they no longer possessed the brain capacity to register fatigue. Nor were they able to come to the conclusion that something wasn’t worth the trouble. She didn’t know why he became more compliant, but she certainly wasn’t about to complain.

Tying him to a pipe inside a ramshackle, wooden shed. She stood back and looked him over, pleased with her efforts and feeling triumphant at the result. She now had a moving target, a sparring partner and little did Ben know; he was about to become her Sensei.

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She’d lost track of time. It had been months, she knew that to be a fact, but just how many had escaped her. Her need to journal would have helped keep tabs on just how long she’d been housed in the apartment block in the city, but she had Sgt Pepper and Ben and she chattered away to them without a care in the world, dispelling her darkest fears and her inner most private thoughts. There wasn’t a need to write everything down anymore, not in a world where no one and everyone was listening all at once. If she tried to guess, she looked at her crops which filled the balcony and most of the rooftop, they were huge, prospering in the summertime and struggling during the winter. But they still existed she thought it had maybe been close to a year that she’d lived alone.

People below had come and gone. Rarely was it that anyone would try her apartment. If they did, they found it to be locked up tighter than a secret military camp and soon moved on when they realized the noise and time it would take to enter such a building while surrounded by Walkers just wasn’t worth it. In so many months she had uttered hardly a word to anyone but Merle, who’s absence was felt much greater than she ever would have expected or would care to admit.

Training with Ben was one of life’s perks, she enjoyed experiencing the change in not only her body, but her mind as she jabbed and kicked her way into a full, self-defense skill set using a dead guy as her fake attacker. She goaded him, riled him up until he would lunge at her and swipe with his arms and kick out with his legs. His hands constantly grabbed for her, the need to taste human flesh far too great for him to ignore. But Ben could only go as far as his leash allowed and his hockey mask was eventually replaced each evening before he was led back to his shack.

Gunfire interrupted one sparring session during a hot, summers evening and Jess’s head snapped around while the rest of her body completely froze. Ben also stilled and started to jolt and snarl at the source of the bangs. It was close, much too close for comfort. She wiped the sweat from her brow and eyes and crept to the edge of the roof, her heart almost stopped at the view below.

Is that a…a TANK?!

Driving towards her corner apartment block with a speed that couldn’t be easily stopped, was an M1 Abrams Tank. Jess had seen them many times before, a sight that Army brats tended to get used to. It was flanked by a dozen, heavily armed men with their weapons pointed at the door to her block. Her chest constricted when she heard them start to jeer and her eyes clocked another vehicle turn a corner at the top of the street. A large, black truck that was equipped with an animal cage on the flatbed. Inside the cage, was a screaming woman. She scanned each face as quickly as she could. Blackened teeth. Then, she observed their hands and movements. Tremors. Poor coordination. She’d read about the depths some humans would reach on the moral scale in a post-apocalyptic situation. Fear raged through her body and she stumbled back when the tank collided with the door on the ground floor.

I have to get out of here.

The building shook and she whirled around, her mind racing and her heart hammering. Adrenaline began to surge through her veins, urging her to remove herself from the threat. She grabbed Ben’s rope and sprinted to the roof door. Dragging him down the steps, sweat trickled into her eyes and she cursed the timing of the attack above all things.

Could have waited until training was over. Jesus.

Crashing through the door to her apartment, she fastened Ben’s rope to the radiator and he thrashed and clawed at her as she dashed around the living space, filling her bag with handguns and supplies. She quickly slipped on anything Kevlar or armored she could find and collected what seemed like millions of arrows from almost every room. Now, there was shouting ringing out from the floors below.

“Place is cleared. Someone lives here, keep searching!” ordered a man’s voice that she could just about make out as a muffled sound through the floorboards. They were on the floor below. She had to be fast. Now wasn’t the time for sentiment, now, she had to be practical, smart and stealthy. She threw the backpack she’d lifted from yet another dead policeman onto her back, the barrels of the guns inside poked at her back but she paid it no mind as she collected her primary weapon, her bow from the hook on the back of the front door. A machete nudged against her leg as she walked, pinned there by the loop on its handle around the belt loop on her pants. She quickly freed it, clutching it in her hand as she adjusted her backpack. She stopped and looked at Ben.

He was glaring at her with his white eyes in the middle of the room, his rope was pulled taut and his neck tendons protruded. His hands were locked out in front of him with his fingers fanned out. She could hear the men clearly now, they were on the other side of the door and with every harsh bang of the wood in the frame, her heart jumped. She closed the gap between her and the corpse. Taking hold of one of his hands but not allowing him to pull her any closer. She gradually shifted his position in the room and gently squeezed his fingers.

“Don’t let me down” She whispered.

She raised the machete, sliced through his rope and ripped the wooden gag from his mouth. Then, she turned on her heels, taking hold of the window frame and diving through the gap. Outside, she slammed the window shut and watched as Ben’s hands slapped against the glass.

“Slow ‘em down, buddy. Thanks for the lessons.” She smiled.

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Daryl chewed his bottom lip as he adjusted his position on the rickety, prison mattress. His back was pressed against the wall and no matter how hard he tried, she couldn’t shake the thought that of all the places the group could have ended up, a prison had to be one of them. He hated being forced to sleep in a cage and live behind heavy, clanking doors. Even the sound of Rick’s keys irritated him. Rick, the leader. Rick the prison guard.

He wasn’t a regular at the Georgia Department of Corrections like his brother. But he’d been on the wrong side of the law just enough to know what staring at the same four walls, sitting at the same metal table and taking a dump in the same room that you sleep in was like. Charges for drug possession and fighting were hardly the kind of things he wanted to share with the rest of the group and so, he kept himself to himself, merely stating that he’d rather sleep outside of the cells. That was when he slept at all.

In his hands, he held a newly carved bolt for his crossbow. His ability to make them had improved some over the months and it was now second nature to him to create as many as possible while sat around, babysitting his brother who was locked in the cell opposite him.

Merle hadn’t managed to track Daryl down since leaving the city. Instead, he’d come across another group of survivors led by a callous psychopath and had slotted perfectly into his role as the main foot soldier. Everything had been fine and dandy for Merle at first, he was given a metal prosthetic arm with a removable bayonet attachment which meant he was never short of a weapon against the undead. He had a roof over his head, food in his belly and medicine at his disposal. Above all else, he had a purpose, a job that he did well and with gusto. That was, until Daryl appeared in front of him. The Atlanta groups run in with the Governor and his community has resulted in a lot of pain, injuries, fear and grudges, some of it at the hands of Merle, who was at the center of it all, but he was Daryl’s blood and he had made it clear that now they were together again, he would not be parted from Merle again. Initially, the two of them left the group and headed into the woods, but things were not as they used to be. Daryl had changed and with it, Merle felt outcast, even from the lifelong bond the two of them had shared since Daryl had entered the world as a sensitive and observant child. Merle quickly realized that Daryl had a code that he stuck by no matter what. A code that meant others were put before himself which infuriated and baffled Merle. A fight in the woods revealed a childhood trauma that they both shared, much to Merle’s surprise. He was aware that Daryl was a witness to violence in their household, but the extent of which was only evident upon a scuffle in which Daryl’s shirt was ripped, revealing deep, scarred lacerations to his skin. Then, everything changed.

Daryl made it clear that he was going back to the prison. Back to the group he belonged with and Merle had the choice to either walk away or try to make nice with the others. Being parted from his little brother for a second time was the less favorable option and so, Merle decided to tag along with Daryl. Upon their arrival at the fences, they found the place under attack from Walkers and although Merle helped to save lives, he was still bundled into a cell and scowled at by every other member of the group. No one had forgotten the things he had done and no one was about to forgive and forget.

“The hell were ya doin, running with that psycho?” Daryl asked.

Merle was leaning on the bars, his good hand smoothing a thumb around the edging of his prosthetic stump. His hooded, weathered eyes fixed on his brother. He found it difficult to believe that someone could change as much as Daryl had. He saw him, carrying out orders for Rick, going out on runs alone, doing as he was told. It was unlike the Daryl he’d grown up with, yet he’d always known that his baby brother was more emotionally driven than he had ever been.

“Everybody’s a psycho now, little brother. Everybody’s got a gun, a kill number and a big ol’ chip on their shoulder. Hell, I’d be more worried if some sommbitch walked up to me with his mitts in his pockets.” He reasoned with a small shrug.

Daryl shook his head in disbelief at his brother’s casual attitude to his actions. Merle was never one to take responsibility for anything, least of all his misgivings. Apparently, the end of the world hadn’t changed that in him.

“They ain’t never gonna trust ya, ya know that, right?” Daryl confirmed.

“Yeah, I know.” Merle agreed with a hint of exasperation in his voice. Daryl went back to carving his bolts, slicing through thin pieces of wood with his sharp hunting knife. “I don’t know why I do the things I do. I’m a damn mystery to me.” Merle added.

Daryl scoffed and glanced up from his task.

“You’re a dumb ass, man.” He mumbled.

They both huffed in amusement and Merle couldn’t help but revisit the last few months and how he’d come to be locked up in a cell, even after everyone died and started eating one another. Was this really where he was meant to be? Maybe he was bad through and through, just like their daddy used to say. Maybe he didn’t deserve any more chances after the one he’d been given in the city. Then, he remembered her. Jess.  

“Remember the little, fat chick from the quarry?” He asked.

Daryl's body tensed and his eyes slowly worked back up from his bolt. He remembered her. Of course, he did. He thought about her every single day, especially when he closed his eyes at night. He wished he could wake up one day and she’d just be there, having never ran away. He remembered her because she was the only person he’d managed to connect with in his entire, sorry life.

“What ‘bout her?” he rasped.

“I seen her” Merle stated, his expression becoming smug as he straightened up and tilted his head back, looking down his nose at Daryl.

“She’s alive?!” Daryl exclaimed as he sat up to gain a better view of his brother’s expression. It was not lost on him that this could all be a lie to get him out of the cell.

“Was a few months back, mind. But yeah, all in one piece.” Merle told him.

Daryl stood up, dropping his knife and bolt and slowly approaching the cell door.

“Where is she?” he wanted to know.

Merle grunted and rubbed his face as he watched Daryl’s entire demeanor change. He was becoming irritated at the lack of information and it was apparent to Merle that Jess meant something to him, after all.

“Asked me to keep my mouth shut about that part.”

With his teeth locked together and his breathing increasing, Daryl began to stalk back and forth in front of the cell door, his boots scuffing on the smooth surface of the floor. He no longer thought it was a lie. He knew well enough that Jess would have made herself known if she wanted to, especially by then. After all, he found a note to prove it.

“She don’t wanna be found, kid. Let it go.” Merle added.

He stopped his pacing and let out a loud sigh. This kind of discussion was rare for the Dixons, it involved a degree of emotion and honestly which was something Merle didn’t seem to possess and Daryl managed to hide extremely well. Until the mention of her name.

“She doin OK?” He questioned “Least tell me that much. Please”

“She’s good. She’s real smart.” Merle nodded.

Picking up a pile of previously carved arrows from a table, Daryl began to sift through them with his fingertips. It looked to Merle like he was counting them, but he knew Daryl better than he knew himself. He was using them as a distraction. Merle didn’t even flinch when Daryl angrily threw the handful of wood onto the floor, the sound was like a million pencils falling from a table and rolling across the ground.

“Just tell me where she is!” Daryl raged.

Merle couldn’t help it when the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile.

“Ooof! You got it bad, huh, boy?”

“Shut up.” Daryl hissed, turning his back and trying to calm himself. His shoulders heaved as he breathed. “I’m your fuckin’ brother” He muttered, hearing a rasped growl from behind him. A glance over his shoulder told him that Merle did really want to tell him as he witnessed him lean his head on the bars and close his eyes.

“I owe her, OK? She did right by me. Mans only as good as his word.” Merle explained.

Daryl spun around, his face now enraged and reddening fast, his eyes were filled with the kind of anger that Merle had usually only seen when the two of them fought and it was never the same kind of rage that presented itself in a fight with anyone else. It was different. It was real.

“Word?! WORD?! You can’t be fuckin’ serious! Your word counts for shit, Merle! You tortured Glenn and Maggie so don’t start pretendin’ you’re some good guy, ya ain’t!” Daryl yelled.

“I ain’t no good guy but I got a code. Just like you.” Merle retorted.

Stooping down to collect his arrows, Daryl knew he had to remove himself from the building or he would end up strangling the truth out of his own brother. With all of the arrows gripped in his hand, he pointed them at Merle and narrowed his gaze.

“If they wanna starve ya, I’mma let ‘em. If they wanna torture ya, I’mma walk away. I ain’t doin’ nothin’ for ya until ya tell me where Jess is. They can keep ya in that damn cage for all I care.”

Before he could think of an answer, Merle was left alone in the room with nothing but the fading echo of the door slamming for company.

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Jess was running for so long that her feet were starting to burn and her knees were seizing up. She needed to stop somewhere and rest but being snared by the group of men with the black teeth and the woman in the cage was a thought that struck pure terror into her soul. She was sure she’d rather be eaten by Walkers than trapped with such a group. She’d stayed away from any roads, trekking through woodland and climbing over fences to remain undetected. Her clothing had helped keep her under the radar; a tight, black Kevlar top covered with her police vest and a black, hooded jacket. Dark camouflage cargo pants, black hand gun holsters and a mask that covered her mouth with a plastic outer shell that she had found on a dead biker as she fled the city.

Her bag was starting to feel heavier with every step as she approached a small town filled with abandoned cars. It looked as though people may have tried to settle there after the outbreak and the vehicles were left in a panic. She surged forwards, trying each car, looking for keys and gas. If she could just find one with enough to get her further away from the city, she could take some time to rest up. Darkness enveloped the town and birds and crickets sang a chorus as she wound her way through the cars, pleading with whatever deity would listen to just give her a break.

Then, her prayers were answered. A station wagon filled with boxes of clothes roared to life and to Jess’s delight, the tank was almost full. She set to work removing all the boxes, lightening the load so the gas wouldn’t be consumed as quickly and settled in the front seat. She pulled the door closed and drove off. Her destination was unknown but as far away from the city as she could get would be a start.

It was days before the truck ran out of gas and Jess had managed to put many, many miles in between her and the group that had almost captured her. On her journey, she’d swept through houses and collected anything she could carry on foot. She slept in buildings where they could be secured and had more than one exit, consumed any food she found in strict intervals, ensuring it lasted as long as possible and continued in the same direction she’d been travelling in for two weeks. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for in a settlement, just that it had to be safe, away from other people and walkers and with the capacity to be self-sustainable. Then, she found the boat.

Situated in the middle of a lake, accessible only by a large, fortified gate at the end of a dirt track that was well hidden from any passersby, Jess thought it might have been an old quarry due to its similarities to the old camp. The top of the gate was covered with razor wire and she narrowly avoided being sliced to ribbons when she caught her backpack on the barbs. But a rigorous wiggle and some quick thinking had literally saved her skin. The boat was so far away from the shoreline that Jess accepted that she had to use a canoe that was moored by a jetty. The water appeared to be untouched and there wasn’t a walker in sight. But chances weren’t to be taken when the dead roam the earth and she had to be sure. A collection of rocks of all sizes ended up in the lake, she threw them out as far as she could, trying to cause a stir and encourage any swimming walkers to rise to the surface. But nothing came to pass. By the evening, she’d hunted a rabbit and cooked it over a small fire on the beach. Using the skin attached to a tree branch, she dangled it in the water as the sun was going down and pondered how relaxing the place seemed.

“Huh. Walker fishing.” She mumbled to herself.

When nothing happened and the rabbit skin floated off the branch and out into the body of water, she decided to risk rowing out to the boat. Much to her surprise, the water was crystal clear and she spotted fish swimming below. Her stomach growled, the stringy, fatty meat of a rabbit hardly sufficing when such plump, and apparently disease-free fish were swimming all around her.

I need a fishing rod.

Climbing aboard, it was clear that she was not stood on a regular boat. This was luxurious, spacious and well looked after. The deck was starting to show signs of disrepair but it was a far cry from the dilapidated state of some of the houses she’d stayed in. She crept inside, sweeping the rooms one by one and eventually finding the inhabitants of the vessel. A middle-aged couple on the double bed in the largest bedroom of three. Both wrapped in an embrace in the middle of a mass of bottles of pills. She moved into the room, draping a sheet over them and resting her hand on the man’s arm.

“I hope you’re at peace. The world sure isn’t”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Merle stared at the dangerous, powerful and very angry black woman in the passenger seat of his car. She was not one to be messed with and that explained why he needed to knock her out before bundling her into the car and driving her to the Governor. It was all the man wanted. Michonne was responsible for his life changing injury after taking one of his eyes out with her samurai sword. Now, he wanted revenge and Merle was more than aware that if the Governor didn’t get what he wanted; he would obliterate the entire group. The group his brother was a part of.

“So, he takes you in, cleans you up and feeds you a load of bullshit. Why would you kill someone else for him?” She asked.

Merle didn’t answer, his eyes were on the road but his attention was elsewhere, with the safety of his brother back at the prison. He didn’t want to be there, handing Michonne over to the man that would ultimately torture and kill her was most definitely not something he wanted to do. But there were little options that he could see. Only he knew the true wrath of the Governor.

“We could go back. You and me. We could just go back.” She suggested.

“Ain’t gonna happen.” He commented.

“Why?”

Her eyes were bearing into his soul and wished he could put into words the things that were circulating in his mind. He had killed sixteen people since he’d been with the governor. Before that, he’d killed none. It dawned on him that Michonne was right, why would he kill any more people when he did have another way out? The alternative was less appealing and altogether more permanent. But it was an alternative nevertheless. He stopped the car and raised his prosthetic hand, the bayonet was fixed to the end. Michonne leaned back slightly in her seat, wondering if he might slit her throat there and then and cut out all the talking. Instead, Merle hooked the blade through her wire handcuffs and cut her free.

“You go back. I got somethin’ I gotta do on my own.” He told her, nodding towards the door. “But you’re gonna tell my brother somethin’ for me.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[itgetzweird08]

This is a one shot inspired by the video above! It is included in my one shot book on Wattpad. This is my first time posting any of my writings on here so here goes nothing! The collage at the top includes all of the people featured in the one shot and my OC’s! Hope You enjoy!

*****************************************

Everything was going great. All of our favorite heroes sat in the common room, relaxing after the latest mission. The " Gen Z Crew" sat in their secluded corner of the rm, making vine references and talking the latest science trends. Suddenly Morgan grew quiet. She looked up at Loki with big brown does eyes, a feature that ran in the stark family. " Big brother Loki, will you tell me one of your stories, about Asgard?" Everyone in the room froze and turned slowly to see Loki's reaction.

They all know that Loki hated talking about his past, especially of his times in Asgard. But Loki smiled at the small child and began weaving a tale. Morgan crawled into his lap and listened. And even if they weren't all looking, everyone was listening. " Well, my father, Odin was the All-Father, King of Asgard and Ruler of the Nine Realms. In order to gain that power and title, however, he killed and pillaged across the universe to gain power, with my older sister, Hela by his side and a very large army, he was unstoppable. But eventually, he had stopped rampaging and began to settle down. Well, my sister did not like this, insisting that they could conquer more than nine realmes, getting a sort of high from the rampaging and war. But my father dismissed her and, after going insane, banishing my sister to the underworld.

A few millennia later, Odin settled down and married my mother, Frigga and had Thor. Then, a few centuries after that, father raged war on Jotunheim, the kingdom of the Frost Giants. On the last day of the war, Odin found something on the battlefield. A small blue baby boy. He took the child back to Asgard and adopted him as his own. The child's name was Loki." Morgan beamed a bright smile and poked Loki's chest. " That's you! " Loki chuckled " Yes that's me" Loki cleared his throat and continued with the story. " I grew up being left behind and pushed into my brother's shadow. But still, I was smart and cunning. I pulled amazing pranks and mastered magic at a very young age. For example, after my mother taught me shape-shifting magic, I became a snake because Thor loved snakes so he picked me up to admire me and I stabbed him. I was four at the time.

There were a few chuckles and frightened faces and Loki smirked and continued with his story. " Anyways, when I was ten and Thor was 15, my father took us into the Vault, where things like the Tesseract and Eternal Flame were kept. But that's not what we went to see. My father showed us the Casket of Eternal Winters, something he had taken from Laufey, the King of Frost Giants during the war." Morgan's face scrunched up. " Why did Odin take the Casket?" " Well, Laufey tried to use the Casket to destroy the nine realms and take Asgard for himself, starting with Earth. Anyhow, he said to us " But the day will come when one of you will have to defend the peace. " Do the Frost Giants still live?" I asked him. Before he got a chance to answer Thor said " When I'm king, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all. Just as you did father!" My father smiled and told us "A wise king never seeks out war, but he must always be ready for it." Of course, my father lied and filled me with false hopes of being king, knowing he can never have a frost giant on the throne. But that is as far as I am willing to go with that story. Any more questions?"

No one answered. Then Steve cleared his throat. " Here we go." Peter thought to himself. Steve had never really excepted the fact that Loki had reformed and joined the team. Sure, everyone had their doubts and at times, some still do. But Steve hated Loki with a fiery passion. " Loki, Have you ever considered that if you had been a better son than you would've gotten the throne? Thor didn't want to rule and didn't give the throne to his brother but to some complete stranger, who probably doesn't have any training on ruling a kingdom whatsoever. Even so, Thor was so taken to Earth that it seems he didn't want to rule from the beginning. It seems you've crewed it up for yourself. Loki froze. Carefully, he put Morgan down and stood slowly, menacingly as he began to cackle. He snapped his neck up to look into the eyes, to bare into the soul of Steve Rogers.

Then

He snapped

he snapped

" I WAS THE BEST SON ANY PARENT COULD'VE ASKED FOR! I WAS KIND! I WAS POLITE! FOR TEN STRAIGHT YEARS I WAS PERFECT!" Deadly ice began to crawl up the walls, and Loki began to turn a slight blue in the face, but no one noticed.

" TEN YEARS OF -- OF MANNERS AND ROYAL PARTIES! OF TIGHT PRNCE ROBES AND STUDY LESSONS THAT LASTED SO LONG I NEVER GOT TO MAKE ANY FRIENDS!"

The ice grew higher, and there was a chill in the room, yet it still went unnoticed. All eyes were on Loki.

"TEN YEARS OF FORCED SMILES AND TRYING SO HARD TO IGNORE THE MUTTERED DISAPPROVAL AND PITIED GLANCES ODIN GAVE ME! TEN YEARS OF THOR!"

Loki's face began to become even bluer, and two nubs came out of his forehead.

"ALWAYS " YOU SHOULD BE MORE LIKE THOR" AND " I WISH YOU DID MORE AS THOR DID AT YOUR AGE!"

Loki began to tremble, while tears streamed down his, now completely blue, face, His eyes were now a deep crimson red.

"I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT! I LOVED THEM! THEY WERE MY PARENTS BUT I WASN'T -"

Loki stopped and looked around. Everybody had mixed look of pity and fear in their faces. But poor Morgan was petrified. He looked down at his hands and gasped silently and began to repress his Frost Giant side once more, and little by little he became pale, the room got warmer, and  the ice began to fade. He took a shuttering breath and wiped his eyes. He looked down at the ground.

" I was never their son. "

He looked around once more and ran upstairs to his room.

Everyone looked around at each other. The Gen Z's immediately got up and went to follow him. Peter ran passed Steve and stopped.

" You just don't know when to quit, do you?" and continued to run to Loki's room.

Loki's friends stood outside of his door.

" Loki, let us in. It's ok we just want to help." Peter said, trying to coax Loki into unlocking the door.

" Go away," Loki said " I'm a monster, a screwup. I'm dangerous and you shouldn't hang out with me anymore."

The kids all looked around at one another. This was bad.

Peter sighed, he knew this was a breach of privacy but could just stand around and listen to his friend cry. " Friday, override lock code on door 34." " Please provide override code" " Override code 121720011." " Code excepted, here you are mister Parker."

The door unlocked with a simple click and the group of friends entered the room. Loki was face down on his bed, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. His friends ran over and sat on the bed. "Loki stop crying its ok." "No, it's, not I never should have snapped or yelled. Now they're going to think in dangerous again." Harley growled" Are you serious? You had every right to yell! Steve should have never said that to you. It was way out of bounds." Penni spoke up. "Harley is right Loki. Steve was out of line especially when he knows how sensitive a topic your past is for you. " Loki sniffled and looked up at the teenagers "But you all saw me at my worse and Morgan was petrified." Morgan spoke up "I wasn't scared, I was shocked.” “I'm sorry that you had to go through that Loki" Ria sighed, "Loki part of being friends is being able to trust each other. To be able to show even the darkest, most vulnerable sides of ourselves." Peter continued, "We have to be able to trust each other not to judge because we support each other."

"But you know something Loki?" Loki looked up at Ned as he wiped his eyes. "We're your family and we'll always be there for you no matter what." He smiled. " GROUP HUG!" Ria yelled and dogpiled Loki. After their hug, Ria stood up and turned towards the door. " I heard that the new Interns are here. How about we give them a warm, Stark Industries welcome... VIA PRANK WAR!" The children cheered and ran down the halls causing mischief and chaos. And Loki knew. Sure he didn't have the greatest upbringing but he had a family now, and wouldn't trade it for the world

[codevassie]

hi! a'ight first off i just wanna say your ASFoS fic is quite possibly the dopest shit i've ever read. like. i saved some of the songs from that playlist and i stiLL get emotional when they come up on shuffle so yeaH amazing work!!! <3 As for oneshot requests, i'd love to see your take on a klance Camp Half-Blood au, if that's alright? I don't have any specific ideas as far as godly parents go, so whatever strikes your fancy is fine. Thanks in advance!! c:

CV: Omg thank you SO MUCH!!! I can’t tell you enough how happy it made me to see this! ASFoS is my baby. That playlist too! I’m curious which songs you liked.Alright, on to the one-shot. I hope you like it! I didn’t know how much I wanted to write this au until I got this request?? Now I have sooo many headcanons. So thank you and enjoy!

Note: Sorry if I got anything to the PJO universe incorrect. I can’t remember every single detail of the books and, I must say, that is one of my greatest downfalls as a human being. I will be working on my other request shortly, but requests are still open, so stop by!Btw, this takes place during Sea of Monsters.

“One,” Keith murmured to himself as he plucked at a strawberry, dropping it into the basket at his feet. “Two, three, four,” he continued counting.

The wind swept past, rustling his bangs across his sweaty forehead. The sun beat down, the weather adjusted for camper comfort, but not the physical labor of hours in the strawberry fields.

“Five… six…” Two more thumps into the basket, filling fuller with the ruby red fruit, delicious where they shined in the bright sunlight. “Seven…”

Keith paused, hand carefully extended to number eight. His fingertips brushed its smooth surface, but he retracted it before it plucked.

He righted himself from his bent posture, directing his line of sight across the field where numerous others were hard at work. The satyrs played their music. The Demeter and Dionysus kids wiggled their fingers, making the vines dance. There were some other kids who had gotten roped into the task too, but mostly it was just them. Satyrs. Demeter and Dionysus kids. And that one kid who hadn’t been claimed yet.

For eight years.

It really had been that long now, hadn’t it? Keith had stumbled his way into camp eight years ago, dirty, scared, orphaned, and only seven years old. Somehow, he had found his way there, in a place he was supposed to belong. Finally.

Except, not even at Camp Half Blood had Keith really belonged. He’d been stuck in the cabin of rejects, of extras, of forgottens. And, whoever his godly parent out there was, they hadn’t cared to get him out.

Hadn’t bothered to send just the tiniest sign. For eight years.

Suddenly, Keith didn’t feel like working in the field anymore. That eighth strawberry could pluck itself.

So he gathered his basket and walked to one of the others, handing it over before making his way out of the fields. He was tired from his work, and nothing sounded better than a bed right now - a bed which had taken years to earn since he wasn’t even an official part of the Hermes cabin and all - but he wouldn’t be going back to the cabin just yet. If there was anything guaranteed about the chaos of the Hermes cabin, it was that there would always be people in it, always a crowd, and Keith didn’t feel like dealing with a crowd right now.

Instead, he went to the arena where only a couple of people had decided to spend their afternoon. Since the border had been poisoned, the weather had become increasingly hotter and its magic was unable to regulate it. Most people were inside, with the air conditioning.

So Keith found himself a corner of the arena and started to hack away at one of the dummies. He was already sweating from his work in the fields and the scorching weather, but he decided he didn’t care much as long as he got to swing his sword, stretch his muscles, and ignore the world.

He didn’t want to think of it all. The border. The monster attacks. That Percy kid off on another quest to save them all. Luke…

“Aren’t you sick of it? How many years has it been now and your mom won’t claim you?”

Eight years…

He swallowed down the sick feeling that rose in his throat, putting extra effort into slashing the dummy. It split, half of it falling to the ground. Shit, now he’d have to replace that.

Keith threw his sword into the dirt, leaving it to stick up like Excalibur in the stone, while he went to drag away the useless dummy. He tried to forget Luke’s voice. He tried to forget how tempting it had been to follow. He’d trusted Luke. He’d looked up to the guy - was even kind of close to him, considering no one survived in the Hermes cabin without having known its cabin leader. He had been a great cabin leader.

But it hadn’t been a shock, really. Keith regretted that - that he had almost seen it coming. Luke had always been so bitter towards their parents. There had always been something off about the way he brushed it off, like he had to force himself to calm down.

It was something achingly familiar, this grudge that Luke held onto. Like a life raft. This resentment towards their parents Keith understood completely. He didn’t think a war was necessary for it, but he understood.

Despite this, a lot of people were wary of him now. More and more unclaimed were disappearing from camp to join Luke. Why would Keith not? Eight years was a long time to wait, after all…

And maybe Keith might have. If not for Shiro.

Shiro was the closest thing Keith had to a brother. Once upon a time, it had made him consider the chances of being a child of Hebe. He’d gotten rid of that idea almost immediately. Children of Hebe were way too good to be anything like him. Not that he had much to go off of. Shiro was the only claimed child of Hebe at camp at the moment, and, even though he was stuck in with all the unclaimed and Hermes kids, he never seemed resentful. He always paid attention too. He helped kids get settled in when they arrived, made sure they had plenty of people they could go to, even kept an eye on them after they’d been claimed and moved cabins. It was just in his nature to care - something Keith couldn’t understand how he did for all the brain cells he put into the notion.

But it had really helped him throughout the years. Shiro had always been there for him, since he’d first arrived three years ago. After so long of being alone, it was nice to have someone like Shiro.

Dragging the dummy out of the way, Keith thought about going to find Shiro. Maybe they could spar together. Or go to the dining pavilion - it was close to lunch anyway. Just then, though, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, hi, Keith,” Lotor said, walking up to him with purpose, tailed by the two girls who were always following him around. “Here all alone? I suppose it makes sense an unclaimed doesn’t have any friends.”

“Piss off, Lotor,” Keith spat, pulling out a dummy and carrying it over to one of the empty mounts.

“I guess it makes sense that you have no friends at camp. I heard they’re all with Luke. Only a matter of time until you follow, I suppose,” Lotor said, sighing like he really believed in that inevitable. Keith felt his blood boil.

“I’m not turning on camp,” he said, turning to Lotor suddenly. “And, for your information, I have friends here too.”

“Oh, yes, whatever,” Lotor said, waving his words away like particularly annoying flies. “Anyway, we were going to spar, but we seem to be uneven here. Care to join?”

Keith knew that was a bad idea. Everyone knew that was a bad idea. You see, Lotor was a kid of Tyche, the goddess of luck, and a pretty powerful one at that. Going against Lotor was stupid, dumb; he’d lose for sure.

Which is exactly why he couldn’t back down each time. Lotor had won too many times, and Keith was determined to bring him down. It wasn’t fair, especially when Lotor won on nothing but his own unnatural luck. Keith was brought down time after time from a misplaced foot or the awkward angle of his sword. The fights were never on skill, and that frustrated Keith to Hades.

When he accepted Lotor’s offer this time, he ended up on the ground not two seconds into the spar. But, hot-blooded as Keith was, he kept going back. And back. And back. Any time Lotor challenged him, Keith was there to take up the offer, as many times as he continued to lose.

Keith was good, but luck, luck was better. Luck had never been on Keith’s side.

“Again, Kogane?” Lotor asked from above, but Keith was already exhausted. The adrenaline from Lotor’s initial challenge was already wearing off, especially after he had already been sparring all day, even long before Lance had arrived.

But Keith had never been known to do things for his own good. He rose to his feet, readied his sword. “Again.”

He was taken down time and time again, none of it by skill, all by happenstance. Stupid things. A foot in the wrong place. A wrong sword angle.

It wasn’t long until Ezor and Zethrid were laughing their butts off. Lotor chuckled too as he watched Keith rise once again, wiping sweat from his forehead. “If this is what Luke is looking to recruit, camp should win without problem.”

Keith was exhausted. He knew, logically, he wouldn’t win anything like this, but he couldn’t leave it at this. Lotor would get what was coming to him and Keith would be the one to deliver it. Eventually, his luck had to run out.

“I bet you’re staying at camp to do the recruiting for him,” Lotor laughed. “How pathetic that he would choose someone who has gone years without being claimed.”

Keith brandished his sword before him. Lotor rolled his eyes, but he put his sword up again too.

“I’m not working for Luke,” Keith gritted out through clenched teeth. His voice shook. He knew he was letting Lotor get to him.

Shaking the emotions away, Keith readied himself to lunge again when a voice interrupted them. A familiar voice. A voice Keith did not want to hear right now.

“What’s going on here?” Lance asked, stalking up to them, flanked by two other kids. Keith recognized them. It would have been strange not to, as long as he’d lived at camp. It was Hunk and Pidge, a child of Hephaestus and a wood nymph. Keith wondered what they were doing there.

“Keith, why are you always doing this?” Pidge asked, stalking forward to look up at him with this look in their eyes. He knew exactly what they were referring to. What they all saw, and what they all knew of his record with Lotor.

“Sparring,” he grunted simply, trying to stand tall despite the exhaustion dragging down his limbs. He crossed his arms, trying to appear put together. Pidge, of course, saw straight through him. And so did everyone around.

“Don’t spar with him,” Pidge said, practically growling on the last word as they glared at Lotor. Lotor just looked on, amused and innocent. At this, though, he spoke up.

“Keith here seems just fine sparring with me,” he said, shrugging a shoulder and smirking. “And I’d really like to continue, if you three don’t mind.”

They both turned toward Keith, Lotor with a challenge in his eye that set a fire in him that wanted to lash out, Pidge with a disapproving look. “Keith,” they said in warning.

Keith had never really listened to them when it came to stuff like this. He didn’t even listen to Shiro half the time when it came to Lotor. He turned back toward Lotor, lifting his sword. “Pidge, give us space.”

“Nope! Nope nope, nuh-uh,” Lance suddenly cut in, making Keith look his way. He was walking forward, coming to stand next to Pidge. “You, my friend, are exhausted. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Seriously? You’re calling me an idiot and expecting me to listen to you?” Keith asked, putting down his sword yet again to turn toward him.

“Yep,” Lance said, self-assured. “And you’re going to.”

“And why is that?” Keith couldn’t help but ask.

Suddenly, Lance seemed to get serious. He leaned forward, talking in a low voice and holding Keith’s eyes to his like glue. “Because, if you keep sparring Lotor like this, you’re never going to win. You’re probably the only one at this camp who can do it, but if you go in blindly like this, he’s never going to get what he deserves. And that’s to eat dirt at the tip of your sword.”

Keith paused, letting the words going through his mind, felt them tug on him, felt them tug him toward Lance, to put down the sword. Lance was right. Keith wanted Lotor to get what he deserved so bad, but Lance was right. That wouldn’t happen today. That wouldn’t happen when he didn’t have the strength to do it, or the level head to execute it.

So he clutched at his sword, then sheathed it. He turned toward Lotor. “Another day.”

And, with that, he followed the three out of the arena.

-/-

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk invited him to the mess hall for lunch, but Keith turned them down. Instead, he went to the showers, then back to the Hermes cabin, deciding to call it a day.

“Long day?” another camper asked as she walked by. Keith merely grunted in affirmation and Romelle giggled. She was a new comer there, yet she had already been claimed. Daughter of Iris. Apparently, since Iris was a messenger goddess, Romelle had inherited some strange ability to project thoughts into others’ minds.

Feel better, she whispered into his mind, and he pushed back a Thank you that he hoped she got.

“I’m heading to Athena cabin,” she called as she left, and Keith could hear the excitement in her voice. That was another thing. As the daughter of the goddess of rainbows, she also claimed to it was her god(dess) given right to be as hopelessly gay for cabin six resident Allura as possible.

“Good luck,” Keith called, but she was already gone. He chuckled, then dropped his head back into his pillow. He stayed like that for a while, listening as voices carried in and out of the cabin. No one paid him any mind and no one disturbed him. Eventually, he was able to drift off, sleeping away much of the hot and sticky day as he could in the tolerably okay temperatures of the busiest cabin.

When he awoke, it was with regret. Mid-day naps were never a good idea. He felt groggy, somehow more tired than when he’d gone to sleep, but, as he tried to roll over and drift again, his body kick-started, letting him know that he would not be getting any more sleep any time soon. Great, he pissed his body off.

So, with a groan, he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. When he looked around, he noticed that the cabin was darker, but still relatively empty. Beams of orange sunlight streamed in at odd angles, signalling a sunset over the Big House and time for dinner. Keith wasn’t sure if he was really hungry, but, then again, he’d only had breakfast that day and Shiro would surely come looking for him if he skipped two meals.

He huffed before swinging his legs over the bed, getting ready to stand before he saw another inhabitant of the cabin. Lance, laying in is bunk across the room, book propper up on his pillow where he had been reading on his stomach, was staring over at him. Keith’s wasn’t sure if it was the sunset or what, but his cheeks looked particularly dark.

“Lance?” he asked, causing the boy in question to jump.

“Keith!” he exclaimed, cheeks going even darker. “You’re up!”

“Yeah…” he replied, then stretched a bit, arms overhead. Lance made an odd sound. “Are you not going to dinner?”

Sounding rather strangled, Lance replied, “No, no. I am.”

“Okay…” Keith said, finally catching up to the awkwardness of the situation. He paused. “Well, we should get there?”

“What?” Lance squeaked. “Like, together?”

Keith frowned. “Um, I guess?” Why was Lance being so weird. “Why are you being so weird?” he decided to ask. Lance blinked, then shook his head, sitting up from his position. He cleared his throat.

“Weird? No, not weird. You’re weird,” he accused, jumping down from the bed. “Let’s go get food.”

Keith, confused but amused, chuckled and shook his head. “Alright,” he said as he followed after.

Much of the walk there was spent in silence, and Keith watched the sunset, watched the blue of the Big House and the lonely porch swing out front. He looked up into the pavilion, seeing the commotion of kids getting food, scraping into the offering, talking and laughing and crowding into the Hermes table. But Keith’s thoughts wandered back down to the arena, looking at the desolate area and thinking about earlier in the day.

“Thanks for earlier,” Keith said, startling Lance.

“Huh?” Lance asked, brows furrowing in a cute way. Keith shook the thought from his head, refusing to get stuck on that bullshit again.

“When I was sparring Lotor. I shouldn’t have taken it so far.”

“Oh,” Lance said, then shrugged. “No problem. I know how you get.”

“Do you?” Keith asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t been aware that anyone paid attention to him. Shiro kept tabs on him. Pidge would beat up anyone who messed with him. Lotor did so only to the extent that he could piss him off. But Lance?

“Well, you’re always fighting Lotor, even though no one has beat him. He’s just got way too much luck for it to be worth it. But you think it’s worth it.”

“It’ll be worth it when he understands he can’t always win,” Keith huffed, frustrated and tired all at once. It was always an uphill battle when it came to Lotor. Or, maybe not even uphill. He was on a cliff and Keith couldn’t scale it. There was never any progress.

“But you always go at it when you’re not ready,” Lance pointed out, and Keith’s attention snapped to him. He frowned, ready to protest, but Lance continued. “Your emotions get everywhere, then you tire yourself out, then you won’t think straight. You’re way too impulsive.”

“That doesn’t matter. One of these days, I’ll beat him.”

“Not like that, you won’t,” Lance shook his head. “Hermes kids are like a Jack of All Trades, you know? So I know what it’s like to spread myself between different things. I’m not great at anything, but I can be alright at a couple.”

“You’re selling yourself short,” Keith said without thinking of it, then went red at the compliment. Lance looked at him a bit incredulously and Keith cleared his throat, determined now that he had said it, to explain. “I mean, you’re good at a lot of things, and it’s not just ‘alright’. Being a Hermes kid means you have the capacity to understand a whole lot, and you do.”

“Oh,” Lance said, and Keith turned towards him. His eyes were wide and staring at him, the tips of his ears red in the setting sun. He averted his gaze almost immediately, but Keith’s heart was already thumping wildly in his chest. There was the smallest of smiles on Lance’s lips as he determinedly stared down at his scuffed up tennis shoes, and it made a smile of his own appear on Keith’s face. “Thanks,” Lance said.

“It’s the truth,” Keith replied simply, turning to look back ahead of them again. They were quickly approaching the mess hall.

“Yeah, well, so, it’s like that,” Lance said, clearing his throat and tapping his fingers to his thigh, looking all around, probably to avoid Keith’s gaze. “Beating Lotor isn’t going to rely on just one of your skills. You have to pay attention to a lot more than that. You have to use your head as well as your instincts to figure it out.”

For a moment, Keith was silent. He watched the pavilion where he could see Shiro at the offering fire talking to Pidge’s brother, eyes soft as Shiro laughed at something Matt said. Lotor’s words filled his head again, the accusations he knows everyone must be thinking.

Shiro was the only one who had known just how close Keith had come at one point to actually following Luke out of there. One night, he had exploded with the frustration of it all and Shiro had been the one to calm him down. He’d told Keith not to cling to resentment, to use his head instead of running head first in with anger. It made sense then and it made sense now.

And, surprisingly, coming from Lance, it calmed him down easier than Shiro’s own go at it had. When Lance said it, it sounded like a plan, it sounded like something, not only logical, but attainable.

“I’ll think about that,” Keith said with a nod. Then, they stepped into the pavilion and were swept up in the hassle of kids all around and the delicious smells of dinner.

“And, Keith?” Lance asked. Keith turned to look at him, surrounded by excited kids and sloshing drinks and the smell of sweet burning. Lance scratched his head, looking sheepish, when he said, “About what Lotor was saying to you…”

“About what?” Keith asked, but he had a bad feeling that he knew what. He swallowed, unable  to tear his gaze from Lance’s. His worry must have shown on his face because Lance’s gaze softened.

“I know that you aren’t with Luke, and so do a lot of people here. You’ve been at camp for too long to actually think that we could believe that. Too many here have your back for that. You know that, right?”

Keith felt frozen on the outside, but his insides were alive and a squirming hot mess. Suddenly, there was a lump in his throat and he had to look away in order to swallow it down, nodding his head.

“Yeah,” he said as evenly as he could. “Thanks, Lance.”

“No problem, man.”

-/-

“Keith,” Lotor greeted, walking into the arena and making an immediate detour his way. Keith, who had just been sharpening his sword before practice, turned to him with a scowl, clutching the whetstone tighter. He rubbed the pommel of his sword with a thumb, back and forth.

“What do you want, Lotor?” he asked, already on guard. Lotor didn’t have his lackies today, though, and the arena was considerably full of campers, all training for the day. Lotor wouldn’t try to pull anything.

“Our fight was interrupted the other day. Since we both seem to be in for practice, why don’t we give it another go?” Lotor smiled cruelly down at him, flicking a tiny lock of white hair that had fallen into his face away.

“So, you want someone to beat down for the day?” Keith translated, unable to really care about his pride at the moment, especially when a shocked look crossed Lotor’s face. This guy really needed someone who could counteract his powers if he ever wanted to become a better swordsman. Keith would prove that luck couldn’t always win one day, and then Lotor won’t have a single way to get better for those instances.

“I suppose I will have to go easy on you, then?” Lotor asked, rolling his eyes, but Keith shook his head.

“I won’t need it,” he huffed, feeling frustration bubble up inside him. Then, he remembered Lance’s words.

“You’re way too impulsive.”

Impulsive indeed. Keith paused, collecting his thoughts, letting his emotions settle down. He took the time to consider… was fighting Lotor right now a good idea?

He wasn’t tired from practice. And he had sorted out his emotions. His frustration was a dull murmur in his head, but, overall, he could think clearly. If there was ever a time, Keith decided it was now.

So he walked out into the open space, turning to face Lotor, who had done the same. People around the arena seemed to have taken notice and were hushing and gathering, interested to see how another Keith vs Lotor match would go. There were no exchanges of hands in the audience. They all obviously thought they knew how it would go.

And it probably would. Keith had lost to Lotor enough times to realize that, and could think clearly enough to know that he still wanted to try. He would never give up on trying to teach Lotor this lesson: that he couldn’t always win. Since he wouldn’t give up, he might as well learn from the fight.

So he raised his sword, defensive before him and stance low. Lotor tied back his hair, then mirrored the stance. Keith could hear murmurs in the crowd. He breathed one more deep in and out. He was ready as he’d ever be.

Then, he lunged.

Their swords clanged in a metallic ring, screeched as they broke apart, and repeated its reverberations over and over as they each attempted to disarm the other, and put each other in check-mate. He let his body carry him through on instinct, but maintained a clear head, watching to make sure his feet landed correctly, and his blade didn’t skid horribly. He was on the look-out for blatant uses of Tyche’s luck, but it was hard to divide his attention between his opponent and everything else.

One moment, his foot stepped to the side, far from where he’d meant, and he knew what was at play. Lotor’s sword came down to trip him, but Keith moved at the very last second, breathing heavily as the toll of the fight dragged on his limbs. Lotor was fluid and natural, but even he looked to be feeling the effects.

It showed most especially in the increasing number of Keith’s simple screw-ups, things that would have rarely happened had he not been against such strong luck. Somehow, though, he barely dodged each one.

“You have to use your head as well as your instincts to figure it out,” Lance’s voice in his head reminded him.

Balance. It was something Lotor lacked. There was no balance between his wins and losses. There was no balance between his goods and bads. Luck spun everything around Lotor, and he avoided the natural order of the world with it. Keith had lacked balance too, relying on his instinct and frustration to carry him through his battles. Not anymore.

Keith’s sword skidded at an odd angle along Lotor’s blade, heading straight for the dirt below them, and, after that, Keith would be unforgivably open for take-down. He could feel the power behind the move, the golden luck winding its way around Lotor’s blade, blessing it, and its repercussions, its own way of balancing the world, pushing all the bad luck onto Keith’s blade. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

But this action and reaction were twisting the natural order, pushing things around that weren’t meant to happen. And Keith felt his need to right it.

Then, he pushed that need into the power he felt around him, burning away the luck and bad luck and leaving only the way of the world. He felt it all cancel out, his blade swinging with his weight so that, instead of falling into the dirt, it spun around with his body and fell back on the other side of Lotor’s blade. Lotor, for a moment, looked shell-shocked, before he snarled and bat away the blade.

They were back into the throng of it, metal clangs, the audience’s cheers, sweat in their eyes. Keith could feel the luck working around him, working against him, but he could also feel something else. He could feel it canceling with each of his moves. He could feel the luck withering away.

And Lotor could too. His swings became harder, his spurts of luck more and more desperate. They were both tiring, but, somehow, in some way, Lotor’s luck was running out.

Then, in a display of great irony, Lotor’s foot misstepped. Keith reached forward with his own, hooking around the ankle and pulling. Lotor fell right to the ground, wincing as his head hit the dirt. Keith kicked the sword from his hand, then hovered over his pliant body, surprise on his usually impassive face. He pointed his sword at Lotor’s jugular and called for his concession.

Swallowing, Lotor looked around, then down at the blade at his throat. He must have known Keith wouldn’t hurt him, but the sight seemed to scare him all the same. He’d rarely been in this position in his life, now had he? And the sudden appearance of it must have opened up some sort of crisis in his brain.

“I concede,” Lotor said, his voice shaking, then Keith lowered his sword and offered a hand up.

Surprisingly enough, Lotor accepted, though, once standing on his feet, he fled immediately, not looking back. Keith didn’t have time to dwell on that, though, because, almost immediately afterward, he felt someone tackle into his side.

“Oh my gods, Keith! You did it!” Lance practically shouted in his ear. Keith was stunned, momentarily, by the sudden closeness, and it must have shown on his face because, when Lance looked at him, their faces mere centimeters apart, he stopped short, eyes widening and sucking in a breath. Lance backed away very quickly. “Sorry.”

But Keith just laughed. “That’s alright.”

That was when he heard the crowd around him, all cheering and rushing in with congratulations. Pidge and Hunk were there too, whooping and hollering, and Keith felt a smile grow on his face.

Then, everything stopped. The crowd shushed around him, and they all ceased approaching, suddenly looking wide-eyed. Some were excited, some looked confused others pointed somewhere overhead.

Keith glanced toward Lance, but he was frozen too, looking somewhere above.

Keith looked too.

“Oh,” he breathed, the glowing sigil a dull pulsing glow in the midafternoon sun. Around him, campers started to kneel, as was custom. He watched as they all lowered themselves, like a great wave. Hunk and Pidge knelt, the nymph, sending him a thumbs up when they saw his gaze. He saw, towards the back of the crowd, Shiro approach and kneel, holding a fist to his chest as he watched on in pride. Keith saw so many of his friends from the Hermes’ cabin there, including Romelle, and Allura next to her too.

And he saw Lance, at the front and still closest to him, kneel with a reassuring smile and a nod of his head. Chiron wasn’t present, so Lance seemed to take it upon himself to do the honors.

“All Hail,” he said, voice strong and carrying over the throngs of people, “Keith Kogane, son of Nemesis.”