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#my beloved.... i find the captain's room especially comforting
yandere-kokeshi · 1 year
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Yandere TF-141 with a Transgender Darling (ftm)
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Warnings: yandere behavior, (to other people, not you!), talks about gender dysphoria; medical procedures; needles and self injection; slight violence.
A/N: my friend recently came out to me (so proud of him!) And asked me to write this for him; which, of course, I did :]!
Alex, if you are reading this, I'm so proud of you and happy you felt comfortable enough to come out to me. You are so amazing (and the other people reading this!!! <33)
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Simon “Ghost” Riley:
Doesn’t have a problem with it — when you come out, he looks at you before nodding, briefly raising his eyebrows in understatement before asking if that’s all.
“He/him fits you better. It's more you. If you think I’d hate you, you’re wrong.”
Of course, he will go through the basics with you: asking what your preferred pronouns and name are, as well as nicknames and comfort wise with name-calling in the bedroom. He wants to know everything as he doesn’t want to offend or upset you in any way.
Nevertheless, Simon is incredibly supportive; telling you that he’s proud of you and happy that you felt comfortable telling him. Nothing changes between you two — the relationship is the same, possibly stronger than it was before.
If you decide to go with medical transition, he will be there, supporting you with all his love and taking time off work or on his rare days off to head to your appointments with you.
HRT? He’ll research and tell you things, making appointments with the best doctor’s offices to call. He’ll be there with every single appointment, nodding and asking questions when he sees a chance to ask. If you are scared to do your injections, he will offer to do it, making sure to give you a cookie/or favorite snack of yours afterward.
Top surgery? Simon will make sure to arrive before the surgery, rubbing your back as you get escorted to the medical room; promising he’ll be there when you wake up. When it’s time for you to come home, he’s making sure to hand-feed you, and help you to the bathroom; reminding you every day that you’re incredibly handsome.
A man who will 100% let you borrow his clothes (not like he did that before!). It’s probably not surprising that his clothes are huge on you, with this said, Ghost will always reach over and pull you into his hoodies; specifically one that has a skull. He doesn’t mind one bit and enjoys seeing you wearing them.
When the days are hard when Dysphoria is being a bitch, Ghost will be there comforting you, reminding you that even how hard the day is — you’re still his man and fiancé; you are incredibly attractive and good-looking, even if you don’t see it.
While Ghost tries not to get into a conflict outside of work, the minute he sees/or hears someone making you feel uncomfortable or upset, he’s not afraid to throw hands or slurs at the douchebag. Especially if they are saying things to you.
With his big frame and thick accent, it’s a high chance the person will get scared shitless and run away.
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Captain “Price” John:
With him being a bit older than the others (aged 37 to early 40s), he’s not very aware of the gay/or open community. Sure, he’s been around it and knows enough but he doesn’t have as much knowledge about it as you possibly do. That being said, he will ask questions or make a face when you confess to him; slightly confused about the whole deal.
While he’s confused, with the help of the internet and your explanation, Price will immediately catch on board and agree to your terms. Asking what name you’d like to go by and how he can do certain things without offending you.
“Proud of ya’ for finding your true self. I love you, ‘kay? Nothin’ ain't stopping that.”
Regardless, Price is extremely happy and proud of you; with you being his beloved husband, he wants you to be as comfortable and happy as possible.
If and when you want medical transition, Price will appear at every appointment, rubbing your hands and back if he senses you’re nervous, and always supports you with whatever decision you want. He will ask the doctor multiple questions, wanting to know everything and how he can help you.
When you want top surgery, Price will make sure to be there when it happens and comforts you with the pain and anxiety. He will help you get dressed and bathe you without hurting yourself; spoon-feeding you on the days when it’s extremely hard.
Want HRT? He’ll be there, ordering your testosterone and helping you with a well-scheduled time; talking with your doctor about any and all questions/or needs. If you are scared of needles, he will help you with your self-injection, distracting you as he does so; kissing your forehead, and praising you as he gets finished.
Is someone being an ass to you? Price has it covered with his tall and intimidating structure. He’s not afraid to get into their space, using this opportunity with his Captain’s voice and making sure they shake in their boots for being pieces of shit.
Gender dysphoria, needing reassurance, and doubting yourself are a hot piece of garbage. If a certain day is hard, Price is right behind you, rubbing your back as he tells you how manly and handsome you are — how nothing could and never will change his thought with that of you. While these thoughts can be hard to get out of, he wants you to know that he’s there to comfort you; whatever you request, no matter how big or small, he’ll make sure to deliver it with that sly smirk of his.
His clothes are incredibly comfy and he doesn’t mind one bit about you stealing them. Price loves seeing you in his hoodies or long sleeve shirts; it makes him smile big.
He may steal yours as well, possibly some of the ‘weird’ and ‘embarrassing’ worded ones. Nevertheless, Price adores seeing how baggy and comfortable they are for you.
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Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:
He smiles real big, before hugging you and congratulating you on finding out who you are. Not only is he quickly accepting, but he wants to know if he can change anything to fit your comfort zone (I.e the compliments he gives out).
“Proud of you! Glad you could tell me. Anyone who gives you shite will have to deal with me, alrighty? I love ya so much.”
Soap will ask you questions about what name you’d prefer to go by and pronouns. He’s quick to change — which includes correcting people.
While he’s kind and open, the minute someone disrespects you is the time he gets big time serious and angry; his accent comes out harsher and he curses them out. If they decide to stand up to him, he may or may not get into a flight; forcing you to pull him away before broken bones and blood spews out. However, Johnny will make sure to get you ice cream afterward.
Much like the two above, if you decide to go with medical procedures, Soap will make sure to be sitting beside you, making jokes and throwing flirtatious comments to ease your anxiety; rubbing your thighs while reminding you that he's happy for you.
HRT? Soap will make sure to appear at the appointments, reviewing the diagnosis they may give and ask questions when needed, and help with your self-injections; buying your favorite takeout when you get done each time.
Top surgery or binders? He’ll make sure to help you rewrap the bandages, wash your hair, and cook for you. If and when you wear binders, he has a strict schedule he expects you to follow — going as far as to tickle you in punishment. He’ll help do stretches with you, kissing your face when done.
Soap is excellent at distracting you when your mind is in the deep mind. He’ll offer to go to the aquarium, go take a walk and grab an ice cream cone or get your favorite food and eat it in the park, watching the night stars.
When Dysphoria is being unfair and getting up your ass, Johnny is reassuring and making you comfortable — with consent, he kisses the areas he loves about you and compliments you; talking about how handsome you are and the world’s best fiancé he could ever ask for. No matter what people say, you are incredibly manly.
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Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:
When revealing to him, he doesn’t think differently of you — rather nodding, smiling at you before asking questions (I.e your preferred pronouns and name). He’s calmer about it, but never less, Gaz is super supportive and understanding.
“I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me, that must’ve been hard. Have you told your friends (and/or family)? You do know that I still love you, right?”
While the others will research to a point, Gaz on the other hand, researches like a worried mother; going as far as to find someone he may know/or influencers online to ask or watch some of their videos to get answers he didn’t get online.
If and when you want medical surgery, Gaz will make sure to appear to be at every appointment; asking questions amongst questions, stopping once he sees you getting uncomfortable from how long the visit has become.
Want HRT? Gaz will 100% step up to do your injections, especially if you are scared of needles or pain; asking simple questions to make your mind look away from the injection.
Top surgery? Whenever you want it, he’ll make sure to comfort you when the time to have the surgery is due, promising that he will make your favorites. He’ll be there, massaging your body when the pain is too much and spoon-feeding you if needed.
Not one for violence but if someone dares to say something, Kyle will get angry and may or may not cuss them out. If they continue rambling on, he’ll tell them to fuck off before bringing you to a comfort zone of yours, buying your favorite snacks and drinks.
Gaz is good at reassuring and comforting you when your dysphoria is a bully. If you let him, he will touch and kiss you, roaming his hands all over you and whispering how much of a man you are and how much he loves you.
Masterlist || Please reblog or comment instead of liking, it helps me a bunch!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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aimfor-theheart · 1 year
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Act II
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|| kaeya alberich x afab!reader || E/18+ || hurt/comfort/fluff || wc: 37k || ao3 || masterlist || Act III -> coming soon! ||
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When you, a beloved artist and performer of Mondstadt, attract the attention of the Fatui, there is only one person you seek out for help; the infamous Cavalry Captain of the Ordo Favonius, Mondstadt's beloved bastard.
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minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+ only
❀ give me a world masterlist ❀
❀ for you are the world (as i am in pieces) - @lorelune ❀
a/n: hello! i am two days late, but here is the second act!! instead of splitting into multiple parts/posts, i just linked the ao3 at the bottom to continue reading! 37k is actually insane of me. i struggled a great deal with this act and it was the source of a lot of frustration but...i am ultimately happy with how it turned out <33 big shout out to my buddies @lorelune who helped me a lot and beta-ed parts, as well as @suguwu who beta-ed and gave me some great feedback on this act, and finally, @acerathia for beta-ing and giving me feedback as well! i am very appreciative of all your help! also please go check out lore's lovely diluc fic linked above as part of this collab!! without further ado, here is act ii! i would love to hear your feedback!! your thoughts!! your predictions! anything! thank you all for reading and i hope you enjoy <3
tags: afab reader (she/her pronouns but is rather gender fluid/binds her chest sometimes and presents both femme and masc), alcohol use, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of stalking/full on stalking from the fatui to the reader, smut, oral (f!receiving), use of "good girl", friends with benefits, somewhat unclear and messy dynamics, mentions of heartbreak/abandonment issues, bodyguard au technically, fake dating au technically, angst, hurt/comfort
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SCENE I
Somewhere dark and stone, dripping, and cave-like. Shadows press and shudder and shift. This is an unknown place and sharply different to Mondstadt’s gold and sky. Confined and cold. Each sound should echo softly or loudly, should repeat itself over and over again. 
Kaeya moves with his back to us, slipping among the darkness as if he might belong there. 
Kaeya has spent nearly an entire day attempting to tail one of the Fatui members he knows is keeping tabs on you. There’s three, he believes, and they rotate in shifts, much like he, Diluc, Jean, and Venti rotate being near you. 
For the first time in a long time, he hasn’t spent his entire day with you. Nor the previous. Venti stayed with you in your own home and now you’re with Jean. 
He hates to admit it, but he’s become rather accustomed to watching over you. 
But he needs answers for you, so he’s been running all over the city, searching for their reasoning. 
This is the closest he’s gotten to a new discovery; this ruin beneath the earth, ducking and weaving through an old, stone crypt of some sort. 
He realizes rather quickly it must be some secret meeting place for the Fatui in the city, especially those dealing with the Abyss Order.  
The narrow hall opens up into a larger space where an old desk, piled with papers and maps sits under lantern light. Shadows grow large and spindly on the floor. On the stone walls are photos and torn notebook paper, pinned and plastered together, a collage of secrets. 
Kaeya peers carefully from his hiding spot to get a better look. 
He wants to look at that desk, all the information atop it. He’s certain there must be something there of use, even a greater hint. But he needs this member to leave. 
Kaeya picks up a stone, smooth and cool to the touch. He has to play this carefully. 
There’s an adjacent hallway across this room. It leads to further darkness. And with the Fatui member’s back turned to him, facing the desk, if he can aim well enough, he’ll be able to–
Kaeya throws the stone and watches it sail through the air, finding it’s mark as it clatters into the bend of the wall down the hallway. He flattens himself to his own wall, waiting and listening. 
“Who's there?” The Fatui member calls and Kaeya holds his breath.
“Hello?” Again, before he hears their footsteps stride towards the hallway Kaeya had thrown the stone in and away from him. 
He waits as they retreat, deeper and deeper, echoing softly. 
He knows he won’t have much time now. 
As silently and quickly as possible, he rushes to the desk. His eye flies over all of the papers and maps and scribbling notes. 
Your name jumps out to him. He skims. 
Vision: Pyro 
Strength: Low
Intelligence: High
-Not a fighter
-Use discretion; known and beloved by Mondstadt and other nations. 
Kaeya searches harder, shuffling through the papers a little. 
There’s a ledger with all the places you’d gone, every single day. There are notes about where best to kidnap you and Kaeya’s stomach sours as he reads words like use force. And torture if necessary. 
But what is it they think you know? What would they need to torture out of you? 
He moves another piece of paper, only to catch sight of something that makes his heart stop. 
Your diary. 
There’s no mistaking it. He’d know it anywhere now. 
How do they have this? It should’ve been in his home or safe with you. 
Horror sweeps through him–they don’t–they couldn’t have taken you, could they? 
You’re with Jean, he tries to rationalize. Had you hidden your diary again? Had they found it? 
If you hid it, had you snuck away from Venti or Jean in the last day or so? His mind spins sharply. 
Footsteps echo. 
He’s out of time. 
He disappears down his own hallway, heart ricketing in his chest wildly. If they had you, would you be here? Should he search? Is he being unreasonable? 
He’ll go to Jean first. 
Use force. 
You’ll be with Jean. And if you’re not, Jean will organize a rescue party. He’s found their hideout. 
Torture if necessary. 
Kaeya breaks the surface of the world with a new urgency. The day is melting into evening and the light nearly blinds him a moment as he stumbles out. He doesn’t have time, he breaks into a sprint. His mind flashes hotly, imagines he wish he could never conjure. Images of you tied up, bloody, beaten–
He runs towards the city gates fast and hard. 
Strength: Low 
He shouldn’t have pawned you off on others–he should’ve stayed beside you. This whole time. He should’ve had Diluc look for the Fatui, he shouldn’t have bid you goodbye yesterday. He should’ve checked in with you. 
His ribs ache, his legs burn. He doesn’t stop. 
What was he thinking? You’re practically a sitting duck. He knows this. 
Not a fighter. 
You wouldn’t stand a chance against them. What if Jean is already searching for him because you’ve been taken? He imagines bursting into the city to find her or Venti or Diluc, with some pale look on their face. 
The knights on watch must know something is wrong as he runs beneath the gates–they call after him, but don’t stop him. 
“Where’s Jean?” He barks to the one trying to catch up to him. 
“Headquarters, I think!” 
Kaeya veers sharply for Headquarters. 
He prays he’ll burst through the door and find you there, with Jean. You’ll be pestering her as the sun sets, chirping and flitting around her office while she tries to get paperwork done. You’ll be there, he tries to tell himself, you will be. They must’ve just nicked your diary. 
He throws open the door to Headquarters, rounds the corner and bursts into Jean’s office. Jean is standing on the opposite side of her desk, back facing Kaeya and–
You’re nowhere to be found. 
His stomach drops. 
“Jean,” he says her name sharply, a note of desperation. “Where is she?” 
Jean turns, startled by his appearance, by his urgency, but–
“I left her with Venti. They said they were going to Angel’s Share to perform some songs.” Jean steps towards him, “why? What’s wrong?” 
“They have her diary.” Kaeya gets out, rushing out the door of her office. 
“Kaeya!” She barks after him, but he’s already pushing his way out of Headquarters. He won’t rest, not until he sees you, until you’re right in front of him. “What are you–where was her diary?” 
“I don’t know,” Kaeya snaps, taking stairs two at a time, “I thought it was at my apartment but she’s always hiding it and–” He breaks into another run, heading towards the tavern, “when did you leave her with Venti?” 
“I don’t know,” Jean gets out, keeping pace with him, “a few hours ago, maybe? I had a lot to do–” 
Kaeya curses under his breath. 
“I still don’t know what they want with her but–their notes were about using force. Or–” he can’t get the word out. “They think she knows something.” 
“About what?” 
“I don’t know.” Kaeya bites out. 
He rounds the corner to Angel’s Share sharply and Jean takes it with him. 
“I’m sure she’ll be here with Venti.” Jean gets out, attempting to be calm with him. She’s attempting to be a leader. 
Kaeya throws open the door, gaze flying across the room and–
He doesn’t see you. 
His blood runs cold. 
For once, he wishes it was Diluc at the bar, but it’s Charles. 
“Has Venti been here?” And then he asks for you, too, says your name with a shot voice. 
Charles shakes his head, “haven’t seen either of them at all today. They were supposed to play music tonight, I think–” 
Kaeya doesn’t let him finish. He rushes out. 
He has half a mind to start shouting like a lunatic for you, all over the city, wandering like a mad man with your name a cry on his lips. 
“Maybe they went to her house before–” Jean tries to rationalize, but he can tell she is beginning to fret, too. 
Kaeya is already ahead of her, rushing towards your home on the hill in the city. He can’t help his pace, the run he breaks into again. He tries to think of you throwing open the door, laughing at his worry. Where else would you be? He wants to hear you say. 
But when he pounds on the door, there is no answer. Not a peep. Your little space is quiet. 
“Do you have a key?” Jean asks, but Kaeya doesn’t have the time. 
He takes a step back only to kick in the door easily, letting it fly open on its hinges. 
(He promises he’ll get you a new door, a better one, one that isn’t so flimsy–that could be so easily broken into. He thinks of you asleep here, with a door like that, and his worry grows insurmountably.)
He shouts your name as he enters. 
No answer. 
He storms the place. Your bedroom, your bathroom, all familiar and all so empty. 
“Venti!” Jean calls, and then your own name, too, as she searches. 
Nothing. 
“You know how they are,” Jean tries to rationalize, “they’re always getting up to trouble. They could be anywhere.” 
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Kaeya growls, rushing past her and back out the door. He’s beginning to panic. He can feel the tendrils of it creep up his chest, wrapping like vines around his poor throat. His head is growing foggy, warped with his fear. All he can see is you being dragged away. 
Use force. 
His mind feels hot, too sharp. 
Torture if necessary. 
“Kaeya,” Jean barks his name, rushing to catch up to him. 
Her voice is a balm, he wants–she should–
“I’ll try to get ahold of Diluc and send word out to search the city for her.” Jean says and her voice is filled with authority now, level-headed and steady, “where else would she be?” 
“I’m going to my apartment.” Kaeya says, mind narrowing, “in case she’s–I don’t know–” 
“Go,” Jean agrees, a command, “and if she’s not there, keep searching–you know her hiding spots now.” 
Kaeya nods dazedly. 
Jean grabs him roughly, on the arm, jerking him to face her. One hand coming down on his shoulder. 
“We’ll find her.” She promises and she dips her head a little to force him to meet her eyes. They’re all stone and determination. The eyes of a leader. “Do you hear me, Captain?” 
Kaeya nods, more assuredly now, “yes,” he agrees, finding his voice, her eyes. 
She shoves him a little, a push to go, “I’ll reconvene with you shortly. Stay sharp.” 
Kaeya doesn’t need another moment; he picks his eyes up to catch the city skyline of Mondstadt, of his apartment in the distance. He breaks into a sprint. He tries to focus only on his breath, on the way his feet carry him swiftly, weaving in and around the city. 
He tries to force away what he’d seen. 
He bounds for his home, feels his heart and fear ratchet up inside of himself. He’s imagining his home empty. 
He’s imagining you gone. 
He’s imagining the door shut tight and locked, how he’d left it, and you’re nowhere to be found. A cold space. An empty space. 
He takes the stairs two at a time, he tries the door and it–it’s locked still. 
He doesn’t pray. He’s not a religious man. And that stupid Archon–
Is sitting perched on his kitchen counter, overlooking the living room.
“Ssh,” Venti hisses, finger to his lips, as he points to his couch. The one Kaeya has slept on nearly every night since this whole ordeal started. The one you are currently occupying, curled up beneath the blanket he usually uses, sleeping soundly.
Or, you were. 
You blink awake, slow, confused. 
Kaeya rushes to your side. 
He kneels. 
The door is left ajar. 
“You’re here,” he gets out, winded, rough. 
“Kaeya?” Your voice is so small and confused. 
Without thinking, he brushes a strand of hair from your face as gently as he can, hands shaking. He’s still panting, chest still heaving. But–
“I’m here.” He says then, astonished, relieved. 
He wants to pull you off the couch and into his arms. He wants to hold you. He wants to collapse on top of you. 
He falls back onto his bottom, breathing hard, all his fear leaking out of him swiftly. “Oh, you’re here.” He says again, voice breaking, as if to assure himself. 
You sit up, eyes pricking with concern, “what’s wrong?” you murmur, “where else would I be?” 
Kaeya can’t even speak yet, but he laughs, delirious, out of breath. 
“No where.” He says, “I thought–you were–” 
“She was trying to nap,” Venti finally speaks up and his eyes are far too keen. “Before our performance tonight.” 
Kaeya looks at him. Venti looks back. 
The door is open. 
He heaves out a rough breath. He hangs his head between his shoulders. He tries to calm himself. 
“I need to tell Jean to call off–” he laughs, “oh, Diluc is going to lose his mind.” 
“Call off what?” You ask.
“Your search party.” Kaeya finally can get out. Your face brightens to shock. 
“My search party? Kaeya–”
“Venti, why don’t you find Jean and tell her where you’ve been? Before the whole city turns upside down looking for her.” Kaeya then says. He won’t look at him but he can feel Venti’s eyes on him.
But then Venti laughs, and chirps, “aye, Captain!” 
And he flits out of Kaeya’s home. 
Venti shuts the door behind him and seals you away with him. Kaeya exhales roughly again, elbows resting on his knees. 
“Are you okay?” You ask for a second time, so sweetly. So sincerely. You lean towards him like you want to touch him. 
And he wants to say, I was scared. He wants to say, I was terrified of losing you. I could’ve torn the whole city apart looking for you. He wants to say, I’m so relieved to see you. Hold me. Let me hold you. 
Instead, all he says is, “they had your diary. And I thought–” 
The door is shut tightly. 
“Oh,” you breathe, “I left it at home, the last time we–” 
“They must’ve broken in.” He agrees softly. And then he looks rather sheepish. 
“What?” You ask, as if you know. 
“I broke in. I owe you a new door.” 
“Kaeya!” You scold, “why did you–why were you so–?!”
“Jean and I thought you were kidnapped!” Kaeya defends himself.
“Kaeya–” 
“We were searching for you. Since you weren’t in any of the places you were supposed to be.” He begins to scold. 
“Kaeya,” 
“Didn’t I leave you with Jean? You should’ve stayed with her.” 
You suddenly launch forward, arms wrapping around his neck, falling from the couch and onto his body. His breath is almost knocked out of his lungs for the millionth time today because of you and surprise colors his face. Raises his brows. 
You hug him tight, face pressing to the crook of his neck, a bundle in his lap. 
“I’m okay,” you murmur, “I’m right here.” 
His arms, which had come up in surprise, finally settle over you. They wrap all the way around your shoulders, your middle, pull you closer, and he’s sure his heart is such a mess in his chest. He’s sure it sounds like a disaster. 
But you press harder into him, fingers digging into his muscles. 
“I’m sorry I scared you,” you say, and then your voice tilts upwards playfully, “didn’t think you’d really send the cavalry just because–” 
He pinches your side. 
“I had reason to believe–!” 
You start to laugh, into his throat. You shift to pull away and he wants to keep you there, he wants to hold fast to you and not let go. He wants to cling to you. But he lets you move away to look at his face once more. 
You look at him in a way that just makes him feel naked. He wants to hide. He wants to say something clever. 
“Thank you,” you suddenly say. 
“For what?” Kaeya laughs, “causing a ruckus? Waking you from your nap?” 
“For coming for me.” You cut him off. “I feel safe with you and this just proves that–” 
Kaeya slackens a little, perhaps surprised or unsure or–you always leave him wobbly and uncertain. You always disarm him so swiftly, so viciously. 
“Of course I’d come for you.” Kaeya says and he does mean it. He softens it’s truth with, “it’s my duty.” 
But that night, you don’t ask him to sit beside you as you fall asleep–he does so anyway. You don’t say a word, except to ask him for another bedtime story playfully, except to hear him speak, as you always do when he stays with you. 
You didn’t ask but he needed to. 
It’s not his duty, but he wanted to.
He can’t imagine not watching you drift off to sleep tonight, of all nights, when he thought he’d lost you. 
He watches you sleep soundly in his bed, back rising and falling as you curl around one of his pillows, cheek endearingly squished against it. He doesn’t sleep. 
The door is locked tight. 
And even though it's not his duty, he watches over you, anyway.
***
SCENE II
On the docks of Cider Lake in the early afternoon sun. Venti is perched beside you, plucking lazily at a lyre. Your feet dangle off the dock, swinging like a child. The sky is endlessly blue. Clouds are like sleeping rabbits in the sky. The wind kisses you. 
“I feel their eyes most when I’m with you.” You say suddenly, glancing at your companion out of the corner of your eyes. 
A note strums from Venti’s fingers. He hums lightly. 
“Not sure what the Fatui would want with a measly bard.” Venti shrugs, “maybe they think I’m the weakest of your guards.” 
“Maybe,” you say, but you don’t believe that. You don’t believe it because–well, because you noticed them following him first. At first, you weren’t quite sure and you had mentioned it to Venti, but he’d shrugged you off. 
Breezy as ever. He’d pretend there was nothing to worry about. 
You turn towards him and look at him before you murmur, low enough that any ears listening would only catch the sound of the gently lapping water, “why were the Fatui following you?” 
“I believe I’m supposed to ask that of you,” Venti replies with a smile but you can tell, there’s a chipping like a porcelain teacup losing a piece of its lip. 
“I wasn’t sure at first,” you tell him softly, eyes glancing out over the calm lake, “but then I caught them intercepting letters and messages of yours. I caught them in the belltower and I knew.” 
The belltower in the cathedral was a place Venti had shown you early in your return to Mondstadt. He’d told you it’d been a place that he came to play music, to look out at the world below. A secret place for him, now for you; a gift, he’d said. Places are a gift to give the people you love and secrets are, too. 
Then you’d caught a Fatui member snooping through the hidden items Venti had left there; music sheets, maps the two of you had crudely drawn, and old clues to scavenger hunts long past. 
The two of you had always liked sending the other all over Mondstadt; it’s why you hide your diary. He hides new songs he wants you to learn. You’d leave clues, games to play, puzzles to solve for each other. 
Venti plucks out a few, odd notes on his lyre. Goosebumps erupt over your skin.
“You don’t think I have dealings with them, do you?” Venti asks queerly. There’s a funny sound to his voice. 
You shake your head quickly, “Archons, no.” And then you tilt your head, “but I did what I do best.” 
A wrong note. It rings discordant in the air. 
Venti looks at you. 
“You didn’t.” He almost begs, but he knows. 
“Of course I did.” You respond and Venti looks genuinely distraught. So you add, “nothing terrible–but I wrote you false letters. I led them on a goose chase a little, like I always do when the Fatui gets too close or comfortable in Mondstadt.” 
Venti shakes his head, “you shouldn’t have meddled here.”
“They’re looking for something of yours, aren’t they?” You ask slowly. 
Venti, for once, is quiet. The wind catches on your clothes in a burst. It’s confirmation enough. 
“So I sent them all over Mondstadt with puzzles and clues and fake letters.” You said, “and really, I thought it was harmless but–” 
“Did you tell this to Kaeya?” Venti asks.
“Not specifically this. I always toy with the Fatui when I can, though, he knows that.” 
Venti shakes his head slightly, fingers digging into the wood of his instrument, “and with all the hiding places and riddles between us, I’m sure they–” Venti stands abruptly, “I need to speak to Kaeya.” 
You stand with him suddenly, “why? What for?”
Venti frowns at you and it’s an expression you hardly ever see him wear. 
So you press tenderly, “what are they looking for, Venti?” 
“You’re such trouble,” Venti replies and his voice catches with emotion; he doesn’t  mean it meanly, in fact it’s–well, it’s fond. Mournful, almost. The wind rushes past the two of you, stronger now. Water laps at the docks. 
“Give me a clue.” You try to charm him but it sounds more like a plea. “Like always. I’ll figure it out and you won’t ever have to say it outloud, if you’re that scared.” 
Your heart feels like a brewing storm in your chest. Venti has never hidden things so openly from you. It frightens you. 
But Venti shakes his head for once, small and soft. “Not this time, my friend.” 
“Venti–” 
He suddenly looks away, down towards the other side of the dock, where the cobblestone of the street meets the wood. Kaeya is standing there, waiting to relieve Venti and walk with you to Springvale for rehearsal. The gold of his coat glints in the afternoon sun. He looks like a knight. 
He waits for you. 
“You have rehearsal,” Venti says, and his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “go.” 
“Please, will you tell me?” You ask again. You swallow hard around sudden tears; stupid and silly but–aching. You can’t name why you feel like crying, only that you can tell something far larger is on the horizon. 
It hangs like a storm. 
You can feel its pressure, now more than ever. 
Tell me, you want to beg him, you want to sing, you want to scream. Let me help you, let me in. 
Venti looks at you with love and affection and sadness. He looks at you with a heaviness you can’t name, but can taste. It’s ancient. It’s otherworldly. You want to hold him. You want to hide him from the world. 
“Not yet,” he replies. 
“Why not?” Your voice breaks as easily and fragile as a bird’s wing. 
Venti smiles sadly, “because if you knew, you’d put yourself in even more danger than you already have for me.” 
You open your mouth, but he continues;
“And this isn’t your battle.” He turns away, eyes glassy, but waves at Kaeya, as if nothing is wrong. He smiles at you, watery and fond. 
“Besides, you’ve never been much of a fighter in the first place.” 
***
SCENE III
In the living room of Kaeya’s apartment. Soft, evening blue light through the windows. Hazy, dark shadows. You’re curled up on the couch, legs tucked up underneath you, with a cup of tea held in your palms. You’re ready for bed. Kaeya enters from his office with a stack of letters and papers; what the audience can see of his face is that he’s somber for once. He casts the greater shadow.
“Will you tell me again why you thought it was a good idea to toy with the Fatui?” Kaeya asks and in his hand, he has only some of the letters and maps and sheet music that you’d been leaving for Venti. 
Or, the Fatui. Since you knew they were rifling through Venti’s things. 
“I always toy with them.” You reply simply, taking a slow, burning sip of tea. It’s chamomile and rose. A hint of cinnamon. Kaeya prepared it for you before disappearing to do some work in his office. You swallow. “And I never said it was a good idea.” 
“Then why do it?” 
“Why are they following Venti? What are they looking for?” 
Kaeya lets out a sharp breath, perhaps growing impatient. “I don’t know. Right now, I need to know why they think they need you to find it, though.” 
“Well, I made it seem like I had whatever they’re looking for.” 
You watch Kaeya freeze for a moment and if you weren’t so intuitive and just a little wittier, you’d make some sort of joke about cryo and freezing in place. 
“Why?” He demands suddenly. 
“I wanted to get them off Venti’s back.” You say, “this is what I do when the Fatui get too close to the people I know. This is what I do when the Fatui think they can stick their hands in Mondstadt. Someone has to teach them a lesson.” You take another little sip of your tea, and then add, “and I don’t have a sword–my weapon is my pen. My voice. My wit.” 
Kaeya shakes his head, “you don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” 
You gesture smoothly, “then enlighten me.”
“This is bigger than you, do you understand that?” Kaeya then says and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him quite so stern. 
His face is shadowed. It’s growing darker. 
“Sure,” you say easily, “that’s why I had to intervene.” 
“I don’t think you actually understand.” Kaeya says and his voice has grown more serious, imperative, a little lower. 
“I’m not an idiot,” you snip, “clearly! Since I’ve managed to fool the Fatui and send them running all over Mondstadt.” You can feel your hackles rise a little, heat swimming in your chest, up your neck. “And most importantly, away from Venti–since he’s got some huge secret that no one will tell me!” 
Kaeya moves suddenly to sit on the coffee table in front of the sofa you’re on. Your knees nearly brush. He splays out your letters and music sheets and maps. “Why didn’t you come to me before doing all of this? Before involving yourself?” 
“Because I always mess with the Fatui!” Your voice raises and you finally move to set the tea cup beside him on the coffee table. “I didn’t think it was any different than any of the other times!” 
“The Fatui aren’t just–” Kaeya gestures, papers crinkling beneath his grip that has grown tighter with his own frustration. “–some band of half-wit politicians or merchants for you to toy with! They’re dangerous.” 
This quiets you for a moment. And then, “so? A lot of things are dangerou–” 
“So?” Kaeya repeats, “so?! You’re not even–” he laughs, but the sound is scraping and hollow, off-kilter. It’s disbelief, almost a scoff, “you’re not even a fighter. You’re not a Knight or a warrior. You’re not even an adventurer of some kind.” 
Silence stretches between the two of you. 
“Can you ever trust my own judgment and intuition? I have made it this far–” 
“But you’re reckless.” Kaeya says, “specifically, you’re reckless with yourself. You know the Fatui are dangerous–it’s why you’re worried about Venti, right? It’s why you intervened.” Kaeya says and then his voice gentles, “so why don’t you have the same concern for yourself?” 
You feel your jaw lock. It ticks. 
You look away from him defiantly, out towards one of the windows, blue with the evergrowing night sky. 
It strikes a strange note inside of you. You have concern for yourself, you want to say, you came to him, didn’t you? Eventually. 
But it doesn’t negate what you did, which was reckless. He’s right; you could’ve turned to him immediately, you could’ve gone to Diluc or Jean or him. But instead, you tried to distract the Fatui; you tried to dance and sing and entice them onto the path you’re on, instead of the one Venti is on.
You gave them a performance. And now, with all their eyes set on you, like the hungry, vying eyes of an audience, a predator, you are in danger. 
“This isn’t a game anymore. This isn’t funny or—or breezy. You’ve gotten yourself into real danger, do you understand?” Kaeya then says and you can tell he’s trying to get you to look at him again. 
“I have you and Jean and Diluc to—“
“But your recklessness got us all here. You rush head first into—into everything, without regard for yourself.” Kaeya continues. “You’re an open book. You wear your heart on your sleeve—it’s like you have no self preservation whatsoever.” 
You sit in silence. You cross your arms over your chest and you feel a hard, little ache in the pit of your throat.
He’s chipping away at something inside of you, something already too tender to take the beating. 
“It’s not a bad thing to be open.” You say and your voice is tight, thicker than it should be. 
“No,” he agrees, “but you have no regard for yourself and all of it for everyone else.” 
Tears prick your eyes, much to your dismay. 
You know the reason. You can feel it, somewhere in the back of your mouth, down where your throat is tight. 
You can’t lose Venti. 
Venti could lose you, you’ve decided. The world could lose you. But you are so terrified of loss and really–you must’ve been easy to leave if–
If it could be done so effortlessly. 
(You think of yourself as a child and your father setting you down for the last time. You think of yourself at an altar, forever waiting, the way you waited for your father your whole life.) 
Venti can lose you. 
But you can’t lose Venti. 
You hope that maybe if you give enough of yourself to the world, it will need you bad enough to never lose. You think one day, it’ll fill the empty, aching wound inside of you that has been just left to dry out. Crack and splinter. 
Sometimes, you think if you scare someone bad enough, they’ll look at you and say they can’t lose you. You think maybe if you scare yourself bad enough, you’ll finally look at yourself and say I can’t lose you. 
“Don’t cry,” Kaeya hushes softly and you wipe quickly at the tear that has freed itself to slip down the slope of your cheek. 
It makes you want to cry harder, for some reason, for him to be so tender now. 
He sets the papers down beside you on the couch finally. He reaches out and touches your knee, broad palm surprisingly warm, as he rubs a gentle pass with his thumb. 
“Why are you crying?” Kaeya then asks, coaxing, gentle.
You sniff hard. 
You dig a little, you search for the answer. Is it because you’re careless with yourself? Is it because you’re scared now? Is it because he pointed it out at all—that he noticed enough, saw through you enough, to finally say it? 
Is it because—
“I worry about you.” He says when you don’t answer him. 
—you’re worth fretting over?
You shake your head a little, perhaps in an attempt to disagree with him, perhaps in an attempt to reassure him. But nothing comes out except another few tears. 
You try to keep the sob back, the noise trapped with the reason in the back of your throat. You fear what will come out. 
“I’m sorry,” you manage to whisper and when you finally turn to face him, he’s right there, and for a moment, you think he might move further to hold you. You think you might just slide into his arms. 
You hold your breath. 
You think he holds his, too. 
“I don’t need an apology.” Kaeya finally murmurs and he doesn’t fold you into his arms, but he turns up his hand on your knee carefully. His palm, an offering. “I just need you to be more careful.” 
Slowly, you slide your hand into his. 
You’ve held his hand plenty now, know the rough scrape of his calluses against your own, but it has never quite felt like this.
Real. Weighted. 
He folds his fingers between yours gently. Your hands lock together, woven, knuckle over knuckle. Palm to palm. 
You’re both watching your hands, enamored, maybe terrified. 
You cling to him in a way you haven’t clung to someone in a long, long time. 
You think you’ve tried to hold onto everything like this; with too much force, gripped in your rebellious fist. You think everything you’ve ever held must’ve been crumpled and ruined from your grasp, you think everything must have the indents of your fingers permanently etched there. 
You want to squeeze, you want to bear down on his hands like a dog who finally caught a bird. 
“Can you promise me that?” Kaeya prompts gently when he doesn’t receive a response from you. 
You glance up at his searching face, the way he’s watching you carefully, scouring to see any flicker of emotion. 
You nod a little, jerky, unsure. 
“Will you say it for me?” He murmurs and dips his head a little to keep your straying gaze. 
You swallow hard around the lump in your throat, tight and hard. 
You feel your eyes fill with tears again. 
But still, you manage to croak, “I’ll try to be more careful.” 
You can tell the response displeases him somewhat; you can tell he wants more. But anything more right now, may feel like a lie. 
And you’re no good at that. 
“Okay,” Kaeya agrees, “thank you.” And then he adds with a gentle lilt, “I’m sorry for making you cry.” 
You laugh a little through your tears, “it’s okay–” you mumble, letting your eyes fall back to your intertwined hands. “I probably needed to hear it.” 
His thumb makes a slow, comforting pass over the back of your hand. 
For a moment, the space fills with silence. 
You watch the careful sweep of his thumb, you watch the flex of his  hand, the veins against his wrist. You can feel the room fill with something more, a growing of a feeling, stretching amongst your ribs. Perhaps amongst his. You think there is something blooming inside of him, something he’s terrified of, something you’ll always long for. 
(If you could feel his pulse in his wrist, it would be jumping, picking up in a fierce little tempo.) 
He’s tenser now, you realize. His breath is caught somewhere in his chest, like he might speak again. 
You wait for him. 
He opens his mouth. 
But then after a moment, he closes it. 
You pick your head up to examine his face, to try and discern what it is he wants to say now. 
And mostly, it’s a mask of causality. 
(His trembling heart is the only thing that gives him away now.)
Maybe, the depth of his eye, or maybe it’s only a trick of the light. 
You want to say, what is it? Or prompt him for more. You want him to speak what is so clearly on the very tip of his tongue. 
Tell me, you want to say, tell me what seems to scare you so badly. 
“I–” he starts. He stops. 
And then neither of you speak and the tension stretches and something inside you grows. You cling to him harder without realizing it, as if anticipating the way he’ll pull away. You don’t want him to go. You can feel it, your heart unfurling for him, you can feel the way he holds you, too. 
In the same way that you hold him. 
You hope he leaves indents in your skin. You hope he never lets go. 
“Yes?” You prompt gently. 
But then he clears his throat and glances away. 
The spell is broken and he forces his hands to loosen from his own hold on you. He forces himself to recede and to calm his heart. You watch as he mentally pulls away from you. You force yourself not to cling harder to him, to catch his hand and hold it close to yourself, to pull him closer to you. 
He says, “Mondstadt cares very deeply for you–and you for Mondstadt. I only wish–” he draws in a small breath, “that you’d afford yourself the same care.” 
You wonder what he was going to say instead. You know this is not his original thought, but the secondary, more distant one. You almost want to ask him, you want to needle and beg, but you know Kaeya well now. 
You know he doesn’t say anything he hasn’t carefully thought about or that he doesn’t want you to hear. 
Still, it manages to make you soften, to make tears press again behind your eyes. 
You turn to tuck your face into your shoulder, like it may stop him from seeing you cry. You squeeze his hand like a lifeline. 
“Oh, look what I’ve done now.” He says and his voice is light–he’s teasing you gently, holding you tighter again as you laugh now and sniffle, fingers still digging deep into his hand. 
“I’m sorry–” you mumble, “Am I hurting you?”
You loosen your grip on his hand. 
“I’ve been through far worse,” he soothes, running his thumb back over the dips and plains of your hand. 
You try to keep yourself from bursting into heavier, harder tears. You can’t even quite name why; your care for him, or his for you. The fact that he won’t name it, or because you’re scared he’ll leave if you do. 
You’re nearly trembling with it; you’re afraid he’ll say one more word, one more phrase and you’ll simply fall to pieces.
You don’t know what it is about care; but when someone is gentle with you, it makes you feel as if they’ve torn you to shreds. It turns you inside out. It turns you into a child again, desperately seeking it out. It feels foolish now sometimes, over dramatic.
But Kaeya holds your hand and you take deep, shuddering breaths until you don’t feel as if you’re going to bawl your eyes out anymore. 
You don’t want to stop clinging to his hand, though. 
“I should get to bed,” you finally say, if only for him, if only to give him an out because it’s easier than if he finds it himself. You’re too fragile for him to pull away first tonight.
So you slip from his grasp and stand. Your legs feel a little wobbly, unsure of yourself. He looks up at you, from beneath the fan of his dark lashes. You swallow hard, around the tears, around whatever it is he makes you feel. 
You can still feel the pressure in your hand, the way his fingers feel against yours. 
Again, he looks as if he wants to say something. 
You wait, expectant. 
And again, he lets it fall. 
Instead, he says, “yes–it's another early morning. I’ll let you sleep.” 
He stands now, too, collecting the papers, gathering them into his hands carefully. All of your wit and love and craft. All of your recklessness in the palm of his hand.
“I’m going to stay up a little longer,” he says then, “if you need anything.” 
Now it's your turn to look up at him. 
And there must be something too raw, too sincere in your eyes, because he can’t look for long. 
“Kaeya,” you want to draw his gaze back to yours, but he doesn't quite reach your eyes. Still, you need to say, “thank you.” 
“For scolding you?” He asks, light, too light. He tries to create distance. Coldness. 
“For caring about me.” 
He swallows. He doesn’t confirm or deny it. But he looks guilty, a man held back, everything carefully in place. Not a word misspoken, not a look out of place. Sometimes, you have the urge to destroy that veneer. Sometimes, you want to know what he looks like without all his thoughtfully placed appearances. 
You wonder if you will ever see him like that. You wonder if he will ever tell you more; if he will ever let you in. 
You think maybe you will stay like this forever, close to him, but not too close. 
With care, but without it spoken. Always in the blue dark and never in the dawn. 
He clears his throat, “it’s my job to look out for you.” 
Your heart falls a little, sharp, like a plummeting note, a tight draw of the strings of a discordant chord. You swallow around the lump in your throat. 
“Yes,” you agree distantly, nodding your head, “I suppose it is.” 
“I’ll be in the office.” He says because he must slip away from you now. You think when he gets too close, he grows scared of being burned. 
He closes the door behind him.
You watch it for a moment, steady. 
You wonder if it’ll stay like this forever; always on the other side of the door. 
When you go to sleep that night, you leave the bedroom door ajar, as if to prove something. 
But in the morning, you find it shut tight. 
At rehearsal, you’re somewhere else, off in your mind. Though you say your lines, you feel as if you miss them, like they’re coming out automatically, half-hearted. 
And the only ones that rings true, that resonates throughout the stage is one you’d previously thrown away;
“Hold on tight–don’t let go.” 
This time, your voice cracks with it, breaks over the don’t. 
That night, Kaeya presents you with a bouquet of flowers; a show in front of the world. 
And when he brushes his knuckles against yours, you eagerly slip your hand into his as you walk home. 
You don’t even care that it’s for the world and no longer for you.
You are, if nothing else, a good actor (or of foolish heart);
So you pretend it’s real, with the flowers he gave you nestled into the crook of your elbow, and his hand curled around yours. You pretend that you are walking home with your love, and the sun is setting, and you are filled to the brim. 
You laugh as if that’s the case. You lean into him as if that’s the case. 
You knock into him as you walk, desperate to be close, to feel his side against yours. You are desperate to have more of him; all his attention, all his affection. 
To not feel like a world away–or like there’s a door between you, one that you don’t know if he’ll ever open or not. 
***
PRELUDE TO SCENE IV
Springvale in the afternoon, the sun warm and bright; it makes everything sparkle, almost radiant. The grass seems lush and full, the lake is shimmering. 
Klee eats cut fruit happily beside you at a picnic table. You steal a piece or two from time to time. Kaeya sits across from you and Klee, his back to the audience.
“Are you and Kaeya boyfriend and girlfriend?” Klee suddenly asks around a burst of valberries. 
Despite everything, you feel your heart tick up in a strange, sharp tempo. 
Your eyes fly to Kaeya, who's already looking at you. 
You share a silent conversation with each other and a series of increasingly dramatic expressions;
What should we tell her? 
The truth? 
What? No! 
Then you tell her–
“Yes,” Kaeya finally says, “we are boyfriend and girlfriend.” 
Klee picks her head up, perhaps surprised at his answer. “You’re dating?!” She asks, louder now and you can’t help but laugh. 
“Yes,” Kaeya lies, perhaps for any eavesdroppers, “we’re dating, Klee.” 
She looks between the two of you. 
“Miss Jean said you’re in love with each other.” Klee says casually and that makes both of you freeze momentarily. 
You feel heat rush into the high points of your face. Your mind whirls, spins into overthinking. Why would Jean say this? To keep your covers? A kinder way to say it to a child? 
For a moment, you fear Jean knows a part of your heart that you fully haven’t gotten to know yet yourself. 
You fear there is some truth to it. 
(Perhaps love is too strong of a word but—)
You adore Kaeya. 
You have your whole life, you think, from when you were young and chasing after them with childlike, outstretched hands, to adulthood, where you have always held respect for him and now—
Something more, perhaps, after all your time with him. 
How could you not? What chance did you have against him, anyways? 
(You hope he doesn’t dare read your diary again. 
You suddenly worry that Jean has instead.) 
You’re almost fearful to catch Kaeya’s gaze, you swallow hard, but force yourself to. And when you do, you realize he’s–
Amused. Near laughing.
That absolute bas— 
You kick him underneath the table and he yelps a little. You hide your snicker behind a hand against your mouth. 
“We care about each other very much.” You tell Klee, sobering. 
“Are you gonna get married?” She asks then, just as casually, around another piece of fruit. 
Kaeya makes a noise of surprise, “married?” He asks Klee, “where are these questions coming from?” 
“I thought if you’re boyfriend and girlfriend, then you get married.” Klee responds. 
“Sometimes,” you agree, nudging the bowl of fruit closer to her little hands so that she can reach the last few pieces better. “But right now we’re just boyfriend and girlfriend.” 
Klee hums around her berry. 
And then she looks up at you, “do you guys kiss?” 
The word kiss is punctuated with disgust, almost sick curiosity; as if she might not be able to believe it. 
It makes you choke, then stutter into a laugh. Kaeya laughs as well, full and surprised. 
“People who are dating do tend to kiss, Klee, so yes.” He says, amused with her. He catches your eye across the table. You swallow hard with the way he gazes at you, infinitely pleased and laid back, deeply amused. By you or Klee, you’re not sure. Still, you can’t help the smile that touches your lips, perhaps just as entertained, perhaps a little rueful. 
“Gross,” she declares. And then she looks at Kaeya, “do you think she’s pretty?” 
You look at Kaeya expectantly, propping your chin in your hands, and sing, “yes, Kaeya, do you think I’m pretty?” 
He smirks, leaning back in his seat a little, and a fissure of heat rips through you. You bat your lashes for him. 
“I think you’re beautiful, darling.” Kaeya croons, sweet as ever, and enough to make you damn near melt. 
You can feel heat in your face, despite it all. You feel like a teenager. You feel like a girl with a crush, a boy with his love in front of him, and not a clue what to do. Bumbling and suddenly young, graceless. 
A pang hits you squarely in the chest; you wish this was real. You wish he was being honest. 
Klee squeals in embarrassment or surprise. “You’re going to get cooties!” She tells you. 
You use her as a distraction, leaning down a little to conspire with her, “Kaeya does have cooties.” You agree in a faux-whisper. “But I have the antidote.” 
“You do?” Klee asks, “what is it?”
“Its a secret recipe,” you begin, putting on a good show of trying to come up with the ingredients, “but it certainly starts with the essence of butterflies.” You glance over at the field behind you, which you know is teeming with butterflies.
You used to chase them here in your youth until the sun set and the fireflies sparked to life in the evening dark. And then you chased their soft, blinking lights until the other kids were called home. And it was just you and the rolling fields and endless night skies and bumbling bugs. You’d try to carry one home with you so you wouldn’t feel so lonely. 
Klee follows your gaze and watches as one of the butterflies flits and flutters. 
“Can I ask for your help, little Spark Knight? Will you carefully catch me a butterfly? Don’t hurt it, though, we need it alive for the antidote.” 
Immediately, she is perking up, jumping up from her seat. 
“You can count on me!” 
She bounds off into the field of swaying wildflowers. 
You turn back to Kaeya. 
His eye is soft, perhaps fond. 
Before you can loose your bravery, loose your courageous little heart, you stand and move to his side of the bench so that you can watch Klee. 
Your shoulder brushes with his. Your thigh touches his. You’re aware of it all, sharply, keenly. 
He looks at you and you gaze back up at him. For a moment, you get swept away in his star-blue eye. The bend of dark lashes. Like the butterflies in the field, your heart flutters, feeling as delicate as their wings. 
“Careful,” Kaeya says softly, so smoothly that his voice could be a melody, “or people really will think we’re in love.” 
Heat smarts your face again. But you tip your chin up because you’ve never shied away from a challenge before; “why do you say that?” 
Kaeya suddenly reaches out and carefully, as if you might fall to pieces at his touch (and really—you think you might), takes hold of your chin. His thumb barely brushes your bottom lip. Then he says, “the way you look at me.” 
“You were looking at me first,” you accuse but your voice is hushed. 
“And you shouldn’t melt when I touch you.” 
Your stomach swoops like a bird in the sky and then soars. Your lashes flutter. You’re close to him—almost nose to nose. And now you really do think of kissing him like he’s actually yours. As if he could be. 
His eye drops to your lips, thumb inching upwards. 
“Then you shouldn’t touch me so.” You murmur, earnest, and if your voice is soft with pleading—a pleading for what, you can’t tell—then whose to say? “Like—like you want to kiss me.” 
Your nose brushes against his. 
“Don’t—” his voice sticks, “don’t kiss me. No one’s even watching.” 
“Do you not want me to?” 
“Yes, I want—” he stops. 
Your heart sings. I want, I want, I want—
He swallows, “we shouldn’t, though.” 
“Why not?” You dare to ask, hands drifting to his chest, his collar bones. 
You can almost, almost feel his smile, slow and fond, “well, firstly, you’ll get cooties…” 
“Kaeya,” your own smile is a warm curve that you want to feel against his.
“Secondly,” He begins, drawing in a soft breath that you feel beneath the palm of your hand. 
“I have a butterfly!” Klee shouts, head suddenly poking up from the wildflowers in a burst of petals. 
You and Kaeya jolt away from each other, hands drawing back into your laps, facing away from each other as if teenagers caught by your parents. Heat zips through you in a rush. 
He almost—you almost—
Something in your chest bats its wings, excited, elated. It takes to flight. A smile overtakes your face, winning, determined. 
Oh, you think, glancing at him as you head to Klee, oh, you want me, too. 
She opens her little hands for you and the moment she does, the butterfly escapes into the sky—taking to flight. 
You laugh as she squeals. 
She races after it. 
And then you do, too. 
In an instant, Kaeya has joined you, too. 
And it dissolves, the sun slowly moving throughout the sky, into running and chasing and laughing. The joyful sound of your laugh, of Klee’s excitement, of Kaeya’s fondness. 
It melts like the sky, like your heart, like the way you do when Kaeya touches you. 
There’s a moment, quick, when you’re in the wildflowers with him. He’s on his back and you lean over him. 
He peers up at you. 
Beautiful man that he is with sparkling eyes. 
You think, people really will think we’re in love, if you look at me like that. 
And then you say, boldened by the day and the sun and the warmth and the tempo of his heart beneath your open palm;
“You’ll be mine yet, Captain.” 
He blinks, perhaps surprised, before a full, warm laugh falls from his lips. 
“Is that a challenge, princess?” He purrs, looking up at you with a halo of flowers beneath his head. 
You grin, beautiful and wicked and radiant. 
“It’s a promise.” 
And then you stand to run after Klee, down the sloping hill, and into the arms of the sky hanging above your heads. 
He watches you and you can feel his gaze on your back, your silhouette against the sky, your laugh caught on the wind, and tuck the vow into your heart. 
Hope it tucks into his, too, finds it’s home there where no one has before and claim it as yours, yours, yours. 
You open your palms and a butterfly, blue as the sea, as a bird’s wing, leaps from your hands and takes to flight. Takes to the sky all open just for you. 
***
SCENE IV
The belltower in the Cathedral, high above Mondstadt. Storm clouds cling to the horizon. The sky is mostly dark, but the sun escapes through a sliver of clouds and still shines for now, casting the world in a strange contradiction. More ominous. More stunning. Burnished buildings set against wicked, deep blue storm clouds. 
Your skirts swirl against gold and silver bells, as blue as the clouds. Kaeya turns and twists, so we only catch flashes of his face. 
Kaeya takes the steps near two at a time to keep up with your pace. You lift your skirts with one hand, racing up the curving, stone steps, and your other hand holds fast to his. You drag him up and up and up. 
The whole day, you’d dragged him all over Mondstadt, to all your favorite places; bakeries and music stores and the library. Eagerly, he’d followed, been at your side, at your heel like a loyal dog. 
(A lovesick pup—) 
Kaeya thinks he could spend countless days with you like this. 
The world is always more brilliant with you—he can’t deny it. 
And now, you’ve promised him another secret place of yours. 
“How much further?” He breathes hard, surprised to find himself winded. His legs almost burn; there have been far more stairs than he originally thought. Or was promised. but he was also promised the best view in all of Mondstadt, with one of your sweetest smiles.
And really, how could he have denied you then? How could he deny you at all today?  
“Not much!” You chirp back and then all it takes is a little more, until you come to a wooden door. 
It gives easily under your weight, your excited push, throwing it wide open. 
Light gleams, the world bursts before his eyes in a shimmer of gold, a rain of color and life. 
You sweep into the space, the arch beneath the stones and over the other side of one of the great bells. If he peers down, he can see the wooden scaffolding where someone stands to pull on the huge rope below. No doubt, it would take up this whole space, swing wildly so that the two of you would have to nimbly dodge and move, duck just to keep your heads. 
He hopes you’ve accounted for this, too. 
He follows you carefully around the bell, only to come to the other side of it and have the whole world open up before you. 
And it’s just you, in the breeze, and the storm clouds, above all of Mondstadt. 
You hang, perhaps a little too precariously, off one of the large stone pillars. 
Kaeya has half a mind to grab you, to pull you back towards him. But the wind favors you. 
“Isn’t it beautiful?” You breathe and you’re so taken with it all, that he can hear your voice catch. 
“It is,” he agrees, but he’s not looking at the world the way you are. 
He’s looking at you. 
He watches you watch the streets below and the clouds above. He watches love and adoration paint across your face; joy and a strange sort of melancholy. 
Oh, you’ve always been so open.
Finally, you inhale. 
 Whilst still looking at the world below, the heavens above, you say, “I can’t explain what it does to me–the sky and the city and the wind when it touches me.” You look as if you could almost cry, and immediately his heart gives a lurch in his chest, “I don’t know how anyone can stand it.” 
Something in him twists and constricts. He wants to wipe your tears. He wants to coo, don’t cry, don’t cry. 
You laugh, “I’m sorry,” and shake your head like you’re silly, “I can’t help it–I’m just so happy. I adore the world so much.” 
You turn to face him, open and raw, “I know these haven’t been ideal circumstances,” you start and you shift, and like he’s drawn to the movement, like you’ve pulled him in, he moves, too. 
And then he’s standing in front of you. In front of an ancient bell from a nation that isn’t is, but could be. Above the whole world. Beneath the storm of it. 
“But I’ve been–” a tear escapes and again, as if he possessed, before he can even think, his hand has darted out to catch it. You laugh again, joyful and aching, “you make me so happy. And I—“
“Doesn’t seem so,” he murmurs, “seems I’ve made you cry.” 
You laugh again, sweet to his ears, like their own song. Your hands come up to his chest, palms open and flat against his racing heart. He’s sure you can feel it. Can you hear it? He hopes not. 
And no one is watching. He doesn’t need to stand this close to you or wipe your tears. 
You don’t need to put your hands on his chest and look up at him like that, in a way he doesn’t deserve. 
(You’ll be mine yet, Captain.) 
You look at him like he could’ve hung the moon. Or carved your beloved Mondstadt itself with his own hands from hill and valley. 
An ache spreads its wings like a bird in his chest. It isn’t fair, he thinks, to be looked at by you, with this expression on your face, when he knows he can’t have you. He knows you can’t be his, not truly. 
He wishes you wouldn’t look at him so. 
“They’re happy tears,” you tell him, pawing at his chest, creeping up towards his neck. You sway towards him. You finish what he tried to stop you from admitting, “—and I adore you.” 
Kaeya’s heart gives this twist, like it’s trying to rebel against him. He wants to run. He wants your arms around him. He wants—
“Careful,” Kaeya murmurs reflexively. Careful of what, though, he can’t say. 
Careful with yourself around him? Careful with him? 
You don’t heed his warning at all, and like you always have, you barrel towards all that you want. You press up to him. 
“You do make me happy,” you say again, sweeter now like honey on your lips, tip your chin up like you might offer him a taste. 
“Everything makes you happy,” Kaeya counters, shaking his head fractionally, looking down at you with lidded eyes. 
“Not true,” you almost pout up at him, shaking your head, fingers tightening in the collars of his shirt like you know he’s thinking about fleeing. 
He has half a mind to kiss you. You’re leaning up on your toes a little. He can smell your perfume; red berries and honeysuckle. Warm vanilla. He feels something tighten inside of him, hot and aching. He needs to put a stop to this—
He says your name, in warning. Perhaps fear. 
And you look up at him through the fan of your lashes and say his name like it’s a melody, “Kaeya.” 
He shakes his head now, fractionally, “don’t.” He murmurs, voice a low rumble. 
“Don’t what?” You ask innocently and then you do it again, as if you know perfectly well, “Kaeya–” 
His hand comes down to clutch your wrist, to keep it from moving around to the nape of his neck. He stills you. 
You look up at him, questioning, almost desperate. Perhaps unsure–you go to pull away, but he seizes your wrist, holds it tight to his chest and keeps you close. 
Thunder rumbles. 
“Don’t say my name like that.” He croons, voice a little rough, “don’t torture me.” 
He watches your face transform into understanding. Into—
Your fingers sink back into the fabric of his clothes, emboldened, “Kaeya,” you say like it bursts on your tongue, and then again, “Kaeya,” you hum, sing his name on a note that could be its own siren song. “Kaeya,” you purr as one of your arms winds around his neck. 
His poor heart—
He makes a noise; a soft groan of frustration, a little growl, back in his throat. 
“You’re such trouble,” but his other hand is squeezing at your hip now. “I swore to everyone I had nothing but pure intentions with you.” 
Your nose brushes his, a smile licking at the corner of your mouth, “I surely hope not.”
“I’m supposed to protect you.” He gets out.
“You do—you are.” Soft, sweet little assurance. 
He shakes his head again, barely, nose brushing yours. Fractionally closer. “You’re my responsibility.” 
“Are my desires, too?” You murmur and when you lean towards him to close the short distance between your lips, he suddenly seizes your jaw in his hand.
You gasp.
“And what of mine?” He asks, eye glinting like the too-hot part of a flame. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” 
His voice is a low rasp.
You look up at him with wide eyes, soft in the center, your eyebrows drawing in a little and you look—you look like you adore him. Like you’re desperate for him. 
“Sleeping in my bed every night, my clothes—“ Kaeya allows his thumb to drift over your bottom lip, slow, parting it from your top. He exhales roughly. “What am I supposed to do with you?” 
“Kiss me,” you plead.
Lightning cracks across the sky in a fissure of heat. 
“I shouldn’t.” He counters, even as you kiss at the pad of his thumb. Lips soft and warm, wet as your tongue darts out in a flash of heat. He inhales tightly, letting his thumb be drawn into the crux of your mouth. 
You look up at him through your lashes. He has to fight back another groan. There’s a flush on the nape of his neck, heat that swims beneath his skin. He’s certain you’ll melt him with your gaze alone.
What’s he supposed to do?
How’s he supposed to survive you? 
He scrambles for his wits. 
And firstly, he pulls his thumb from your lips.
“Kaeya—“ you coax again, “Kaeya.” 
“Stop it,” he hushes, “I can’t.” 
“I want you,” you murmur, almost whine.
“You’re a brat.” Kaeya groans finally, “stop tempting me.” 
“I’ll beg,” you sing sweetly. “Is that what you want to hear?” 
“No,” he says quickly because the thought of that makes his mind screech to a halt. “Never. I’d never—“
Make you beg.
He swallows around the words sharply. 
He lays his hands, long and broad, on your shoulders. 
He forces distance between the two of you. 
Thunder grumbles unhappily across the sky.
“I’m not going to kiss you.” 
“But you want to?” 
And the way you look at him, so earnestly and so desperately—
“That’s besides the point—“ You open your mouth to speak, only for him to continue, “my job is to protect you. This would be highly unprofessional of me.” 
“Since when have you—“
“You deserve better.” He finally says, words flying from his mouth before he can stop them, “I am, frankly, a rake and a cheat and—“
“That’s not—“
“The point is,” Kaeya continues over you, lest you do something even worse and try to fight or deny him, “it would be unwise of us.” 
“I, for one, have never claimed to be wise.” 
Kaeya laughs now, full and warm and fond. He shakes his head. You’re near glowing with just the sound of his joy. So he continues;
“It would be foolish. Perhaps, even, one of the worst things we could do.” 
His voice lilts, turns melodic. 
Your hands are back on his chest somehow. Flat over his heart, nearing his collar again. He’s losing. You’re sidling close and he wants to bring you closer still. He can feel all the curves of your body to his, fitting up against him like a missing puzzle piece. 
“Utterly disastrous, really.” He continues, voice growing fainter. He’s losing. 
“Wildly reckless?” You murmur, tipping your chin up, offering your lips to him like a sweet lamb to sacrifice. 
“Terribly…” he drifts, feeling the brush of your lips against his, “stupid, I’m afraid.” 
You hum lightly, barely, in acknowledgement before he’s suddenly closing the distance and kissing you soundly.
Oh, he’s lost. 
(It’s a promise.) 
The wind picks up sharply for a proper storm. Lightning flashes behind his eyelids. 
And that’s all it takes, Kaeya realizes, heart swinging wildly in his chest like a bell tolling. Knocking against his rib cage.
You throw your arms around his neck and deepen it. 
He groans in defeat, damning it all, and grabs at the skirts of your waist, squeezing at your hips desperately. 
Damn it all, he thinks again, knowing it’ll be something of a shipwreck; brutal and splendid and massive. Beautiful and heartbreaking enough that he just won’t be able to look away. 
More thunder, sky swirling and teeming and ready to just burst. He can feel it under his skin. 
You sink your hands into his hair. He nips sharply enough at your bottom lip that a gasp is wrenched from you. He swallows it. 
He wants so much more. 
The sky opens up and rain falls from the heavens in a golden and brutal downpour. 
***
SCENE V 
Dawn Winery in the evening, plum dark and warm from fire in the hearth. You and Diluc are at the grand piano, seated side by side, in an intimate and cozy parlor room. 
Kaeya has just entered and we see the side profile of his face as he watches the two of you. 
“Oh, do you remember this one?” You ask and immediately, music fills the space as your hands dance over the keys in a sweet, jaunty little tune. 
“Like this?” Diluc asks, setting his hands to the lower side to immediately complete the melody you play. “It’s this one, right?” 
“Yes!” You exclaim, the two of you playing with ease, a smile on your face. “We used to play this one all the time for our parents.” 
It’s such an innocent remark. Kaeya is almost caught off guard by it, by the memory that floods back to him. 
Crepus in the lounge chair, your parents across from him on the settee. The glow of the fire warm and gentle. Faces of people that swim in his mind, that he hasn’t seen or has avoided for a long time now, their smiles and laughs. People who left. Who died. Ghosts that once listened to your music, just as he is now, on the outskirts. 
Diluc, surprisingly, is not put off by the memory. Instead, he smiles, “I used to always mess this part up.” 
And then with ease, his large hands cascade over the keys. Not a note out of place.
“And look at you now!” You encourage him. 
He laughs softly, low, like the fire in the hearth. 
With ease, the two of you close the song together, watching each other with crinkled, happy eyes for the timing. For the last notes. 
He can hardly stand how lovely you look. Or how you look at Diluc. 
Have you ever looked at him like that? 
He clears his throat. 
When you see him, your face lights up and the way you say his name, with such warmth and adoration makes him feel worse somehow, “Kaeya!” 
Immediately, Diluc’s face hardens. 
“Apologies,” Kaeya says with perhaps more chill than he anticipates, “I didn’t mean to interrupt the concert.” 
“Not at all,” you respond, “how did we sound?” 
“Your music is lovely as usual.” Kaeya responds flippantly and you eye him for a moment, scrutinizing. 
And then, slowly, you say, “then you wouldn’t mind if we play a few more? This piano does bring back fond memories for me.” 
There’s a glint in your eyes; it could be the fire that favors you or a trick of the light. 
And because Kaeya pretends he doesn’t care, he says, “please; don’t allow me to stop you.” 
He takes a seat on the settee as far from you and Diluc as he can manage. 
Diluc sets his hands back to the keys and opens with a few, small notes, “do you remember this one?” He asks you.
“How could I forget?” You laugh, “I sang this one at every party and soiree we ever had.” 
And Kaeya also instantly recognizes the first chord that Diluc eases out, the tune of it like his childhood. He remembers you standing so small and young, by the piano which seemed so much larger when he was a boy. Your glowing face and sweet, little voice. 
And when you open your mouth to sing this time, it’s mature and warm, lower but more distinguished. 
The lyrics must come to you like from a dream, he’s sure of it. 
As if it was yesterday, you sing the song of a different time, a different lifetime ago it feels like. Of late nights in this very parlor, with laughter and the clinking of glasses. A house full. A heart full. 
You sing of angels and the moon in the sky, the stars, and a love from forever ago. 
And really, it’s so horribly fitting for you; the song is as in love with the world as you are. How could anyone sleep, you sing, how could anyone close their eyes to the night sky? To love? 
Kaeya realizes sharply that he feels as if he’s been sleeping for a very long time. 
He’s turned his eyes away from the stars and love and the whole world. 
And you, wonder that you are, have been desperately trying to wake him. To show him again. 
The last concluding notes ring softly, hang in the air, before you are smiling and leaning onto Diluc’s shoulder, hugging his broad arm to you happily. 
Kaeya looks at the two of you, the light and dark of Mondstadt. The joy and pride of the city, so beautiful in the fire. 
How could he ever compare to the two of you? 
“Kaeya, did you remember that one?” You ask suddenly, turning to face him. 
He somehow manages to unstick his voice, and lies, “not really.” 
After a moment, a heartbeat where you seem to see right through him, you ask, “shall we go home?” 
Yes, he wants to say. Let me take you home. Let me take you away. 
Instead, he says, “I’m hardly in a rush.” 
You stand from the piano bench and saunter over to him. Diluc turns to watch as you come to stand between his legs, peering down at him. 
“I missed you today.” You say honestly, “were you busy?”
Kaeya won’t return the sentiment in front of Diluc. In fact, he’s surprised that you’ve come this close in front of him at all. He thought this was supposed to be between the two of you and no one else. 
Selfishly, he wants to keep it that way. He wants you all to himself. 
Kaeya glances at his brother, then back to you. Diluc’s eyes narrow fractionally in suspicion as Kaeya says, “very, unfortunately.” 
You tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. Your fingers drift then, hovering around his jaw like you might touch him more. You don’t. You say, “let’s go home, then.”
You offer him your hand and when he takes it to stand, you don’t drop it. You tuck up against his side. Kaeya feels something wobbly and fragile take a few, tentative steps inside of him, like a newborn fawn. 
How strange, he thinks, to imagine you as openly his. How strange, to have your genuine affection, your genuine adoration. 
“Thank you for playing with me, Diluc,” you say with a smile, “I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother today.” 
“You’re never a bother,” Diluc promises like the gentleman he is, “and I am always charmed to play the piano beside you.” 
Diluc glances down at your interlocked hands. You let him look. Kaeya fights the urge to pull away and create distance. You squeeze his hand. You say to Diluc, “perhaps we should throw a soiree, the way our parents used to. I miss being in the manor. And then we can play for everyone again.” 
Everyone except the ghosts, Kaeya thinks, their faces pale in his eyes. 
Diluc seems as wary as Kaeya is, for once, but it is so hard to deny you. Kaeya knows that well. 
As if to sweeten it, you let your head tip onto Kaeya’s shoulder, cuddling up to him even closer, “I think it’d be great fun. A reason to come together again.” 
Diluc meets Kaeya’s eyes briefly and he can already feel the scolding he will receive. He can already feel Diluc’s doubt and judgment. But instead of starting a quarrel, he says to you, “Perhaps we can arrange something.” 
And really, Kaeya thinks it's a testament to how charming and lovely you are. 
You bid Diluc goodnight, sweet as ever, and lead Kaeya out by the hand. 
He can feel Diluc’s gaze burning into the center of his back. 
And the moment you pull him around the corner and out of Diluc’s eyesight, you turn and suddenly pull him down into a deep, slow kiss. 
Kaeya’s eyes flutter in surprise and immediately, he attempts to pull away from you. It’s one thing for Diluc to see the way you held his hand, it’s another thing entirely for him to catch the two of you like this.
You hardly let him get a word out, before you’re pulling him back down into a dirtier, heavier, more desperate sort of kiss. 
He yields with a soft, surprised noise of wanting. He kisses you back, just as dirty, just as desperate—tongue licking into your mouth, heat stoking to life along the nape of his neck, the curve of his spine. 
When you pull away, he manages to get out, “well. Hello to you, too.”
You smile, wide and lovely. “I did miss you.” You say again, as if you know you have to convince him, and that he never believes you the first time. And still, he thinks you must be lying. You’d never miss him. 
But you lean up onto your toes to get him to kiss you again; which he does. Easily, happily. It’s gentler than the previous, a little more content, though no less heated. He draws you closer, as close as you can get. His tongue dips gently into your mouth, deep and hungry and exploring. He feels the fabric of your dress bunch up beneath greedy hands, pulling at them, pawing at you. 
A cleared throat. 
The two of you jump apart, whirling around to face Diluc in the entryway. 
He does not look pleased. 
Kaeya, for once, feels like a younger brother again, caught red handed. He opens his mouth for some strange excuse, but you beat him to it;
“We’re taking our role as a couple very seriously. Archon forbid the Fatui question our legitimacy.” 
Kaeya can’t help the laugh that barks out of him, before Diluc’s glare forces him to clear his throat and compose himself. 
“I can see that.” He says dryly. 
“It was my fault,” you then add, “Kaeya is, for once, blameless. I’m a bad influence.” 
“I highly doubt that.” Diluc drawls, “he’s never blameless.” 
Kaeya opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it again.
“We will truly be taking our leave now.” You then say, tugging at Kaeya’s hand, “goodnight, Diluc!” 
The door slams hard behind you. 
Kaeya looks at you, your back to the door, chest heaving a little. You look back at him. 
And then you burst into laughter. He shakes his head, but he can’t stop the smile that comes onto his face. The laugh of disbelief. 
“Diluc is going to kill me,” he finally says, “I can’t believe you.” 
“Oh,” you coo, striding past him, “should I protect you? Diluc is harmless.” 
Kaeya laughs again, though this time it’s dryer, not as funny, but more ironic. 
Well, he has an eyepatch to certainly prove otherwise. You must catch onto his shift in mood, because you take his hand again and assure him, “I’ll deal with Diluc, if you’d like.” 
“No,” Kaeya says, “no need to fight my battles.” 
“I did get you in trouble.” 
 “Well, that I can’t deny.” Kaeya agrees with a smile, slipping his hand around your waist and this time, he knows it is real. Realer than ever before. 
The stars are bright above your heads. The moon is full and shining like a coin and casting you in its soft light. Your eyes are crinkled in delight. 
“You’re also a liar,” you add and Kaeya pauses, looking at you.
It strikes a strange note in him. 
You continue, “I thought you said you weren’t the jealous type?” 
Kaeya’s brows prick upwards, “did you think I was jealous?”
“Kaeya,” you say his name warmly, with love, “I could feel you glaring a hole into the back of our heads while we were at the piano.” 
Kaeya laughs, but it’s rather hollow, “I’m not the jealous type, my dear. I’m sorry to disappoint. Did you have fantasies of being ravished by me in a jealous rage?” 
It’s a little barbed. 
If you notice (which you do), you don’t take his bait. 
“Well, now that you say it…” you tease, walking backwards and in front of him, a sly little smile on your lips. 
Kaeya shakes his head, “there’ll be no ravishing.” He promises, “I’m being a gentleman.” 
“Hm,” you hum lightly, “and how long do you plan to keep that facade up?” 
“It’s not a facade–” he starts to protest, but your hand is winding in the front of his shirt to pull him back into your orbit. 
You pull him into a hard kiss. 
This one is more desperate. Heavier. Hotter. 
He sees what game you’re playing. 
The walk home, in Mondstadt’s streets, for everyone and the moon to see, is a game of cat and mouse. Kissing hard and soft, slow and fast, against brick walls and wooden fences. Leaning into shadows and sharp, little gasps. Teasing kisses along the jaw, before slipping away, and back into the night. 
You manage to lead him right up to the threshold of his bedroom. 
He takes a stance here, roots himself down. He swallows hard—he has to steel himself, he knows. 
So he goes no further than the arch of the doorway, no matter how much you pull at him, or kiss him or tease him. And as hard as it is, he doesn’t even sway when you gaze up at him with that look in your eyes; dreamy and enamored. 
You look at him like he could be a great man. 
It’s absolutely horrifying. His heart jumps in his chest. He can feel as if he can hardly breathe.
“You really won’t sleep with me?” You ask, lips hovering just beneath his. His hands are latched tight to the doorframe of his bedroom as to stay them. To keep his resolve. 
Kaeya shakes his head, “I’m a gentleman.”
You let go of a tired sigh, “I don’t need you to be one.” 
He swallows hard. 
“I’m afraid I need to be one.” He answers. 
“I didn’t take you as chaste.” You murmur, kissing at the corner of his mouth, his cheek. All that warmth comes rushing back to him. 
“Hardly,” he scoffs reflexively, allowing you room at his throat, down the length of his neck. “But I am trying to preserve–” 
He stalls, when he feels your tongue at his pulse. 
You blink up at him innocently and supply, “you’re trying to preserve–?” 
He clears his throat, “some level of professionality. Dignity, maybe.” 
Protection, too, though he isn’t sure anymore if it’s for you or him. Perhaps both. 
The only way he sees this ending is poorly–he cannot foresee a current future where you don’t end up disappointed and hurt by him. He cannot see a future where you don’t leave for your own good. 
And besides, all things must end, he knows, all people must leave or be left behind. 
He was left once and he’s vowed to never be left again, standing in the rain, shivering and young. 
(He tries not to think of you—left at an altar.)
You pull away to look up at him, sweet-eyed and gentle, almost amused with him. “If you say so.” 
Reluctantly and with a great deal of his strength, he leans away to put distance between you. Coldness sweeps in. He tries to appreciate it. “You should sleep. You have rehearsal early tomorrow morning.” 
You step away as well. You offer him a little curtsy in jest, “as you wish, my most proper and chaste lord.” 
“I’m a lord?” He asks, astonished. 
“A prince?” you ask, “or do you prefer a knight? We can roleplay, if you’d like–” 
“Goodnight!” Kaeya announces then, reaching for the doorknob to begin swinging the door closed, to put distance between whatever it is growing between the two of you. 
You laugh, though, so warm and wonderful at his antics that he just can’t help it; he kisses you once more, soundly, goodnight. 
And this time, he says it gentler, lower and sweeter in a way he knows makes you shiver, “goodnight, princess.” 
He watches you fluster, the way you blink up at him. And now it’s his turn to laugh, low and soft and hot, before he quickly swings the door the rest of the way shut. Locking you on the other side of it. Far from his reach. 
Lest he do something horrible. 
Lest he want you too greatly. 
But when he lays down on the couch to sleep that night, he realizes he can hardly sleep at all–and, really, he thinks, who could sleep at all? With the night sky like diamonds, and the way you kiss him like you have everything to lose, and everything to gain. 
Like he could be desired to keep. 
How could he sleep at all? When there is a door between the two of you? And the world hums and glows and shifts, right from underneath his feet. 
How could he sleep? He hears you sing, around and around in his mind, at the piano of his childhood, and the one tonight, a lifetime later. 
***
Finish the rest on Ao3 ->
a/n: this act was too long to post on tumblr in full and i would've had to split it into three separate posts. i figured linking ao3 would be easiest to finish reading :)) thank you for reading!! let me know your thoughts!! <33
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zhng96 · 11 months
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LUCEM - terazono keita
↳ synopsis: hearts planted six feet underground, the buds of flowers still manage to pierce through the rotten soil and basks in the unfamiliar light.
↳ pairing: prince!terazono keita x gn!asassin!reader (royalty au)
↳ genre: fluff, comfort, angst
↳ warnings (updated at the beginning of every chapter): mentions of death, mentions of assassination, the queen is literally evil, sadism (from the queen), mentions of being stabbed, unedited writing, ummm i think thats it?
perm taglist: @tzuberry @hrtattcker @neohyxn @avocarua @dwcljh @uyujns @knrejj @taeraemisu @leejeongz
(scroll to the end to find the masterlist.)
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oo. PROLOGUE.
the thunk of your heartbeat could almost substitute that of the queen's band as her gaze lingered on your bowed head with a disturbingly scrupulous gaze.
rumors of the queen's true attitude often resurfaced around the peasantry population of mare- after all, being completely isolated from the other nations, what had they better to do than gossip.
whether some would consider it lucky or unlucky- you were given the opportunity to serve her majesty herself. however, serving the highest power in mare does not commend you to overlook your crimes; neither does it pay very well. despite working under her royal majesty, your job was not of your choice- only a debt of your father you had to serve in his stead. a responsibility those innocent had to be burdened, while the perpetrator lives a life of wealth a far ways away.
a church bell ring and the silence of the juries. you almost find yourself laughing at the juxtaposition if it weren't for the unnecessary cuffs binding your wrists, and the guards ready to spear your feet in place if you even as much as shifted between your feet.
while the queen rewarded other guards with bags of coins, you were reminded of how lucky you were that she refrained from killing your entire bloodline for the mistakes of your father.
"by judgement of the juries, i hereby declare this treasonous scoundrel... the death sentence."
you didn't do it... really. you did nothing more than steal a single loaf of bread for your family... it wasn't like you killed anyone...
murmurs fill the room. some even resort to cussing you out directly- words that were never welcome in the palace- only by exception of a trial for treason.
stumbling upon the body of the beloved knight captain at the entrance of the palace was truly just a coincidence...
your ears seem to twitch at the sound of the guards' grips tightening against their spears. death sentence... here? right now?
nothing but a knave to her, you were. always dishonest, always untrustworthy, always...
"halt!" her golden eyes seem to glisten with irrevocable levity- it was almost as if- no it was sure she was enjoying this. "why... quite unfair that i don't get a say... especially when they are one of my most prized knights." an unsettling giggle dies on her lips as she speaks. liar, you think, your fingers twitch to just get a hold of her throat and squeeze- "wasted potential.... what a shame. i say we send her to kill queen terazono! if she doesn't come back with either her head or her heart, well then... we'll deal with her... accordingly." a sickly giggle bubbles from her throat as she tuts. her smirk grows even wider at the sight of you cowering under her gaze.
always... so easily controlled.
you lips part... sure you were a knight... but that does not compare to being an assassin. your head spins at the sentence- were you to kill the queen and be banished from ager (the land of the terazono clan) and be released from these baseless accusations, or be killed in mare (pathetically, if you had to add) without a fight. you growl in overwhelm, finally meeting the eyes of the woman that holds your fate like dough in her hands- no doubt she knew what she was doing. "i'll do you one better... i'll come back with the head of their next heir. how does terazono keita sound?" by the look of pure glee and the dainty clap of her hands at your proposal, you assume you've played the right cards... for now.
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ooi. ONE.
oii. TWO.
iii. THREE.
oiv. FOUR.
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navi. mlist.
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Lena! First off, I hope you're doing splendidly. Your posts always make my day better. Second, I had a mad idea that I'd love your take on but if it's not to your liking, feel free to ignore it. I was listening to the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack today and the thought struck me of which of our beloved clones is like which Jane Austen hero? Wolffe totally gives me Mr. Darcy vibes and I can see Fives as Mr. Tilney (young, handsome, likes to dance, likes to tease, probably understands muslin). Would you be willing to share your thoughts on any of the clones? If you throw in Waxer and Howzer, I'll love you even more than I already do. You're marvelous. Thank you thank you!
LOVE this concept. Mansfield Park is the only Austen story I'm not at all familiar with, so I'll exclude any gentlemen from that one. But here's what I think about the others and their similarities with the clones...
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Wolffe is like Mr. Darcy... He's proud, yes, but further, he's a man of duty and principle. He knows what he wants and has no time for things that fall short of those standards. He is a steadfast friend for life, even taking a hit to his own reputation (or life) to save them. In a romantic partner, he'd need someone unafraid to call out his BS, but also patient enough to let him learn his lesson and try again... and he'll always try to do better for the ones he loves.
...Some similarities: Crosshair
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Wrecker is like Mr. Bingley... He may not be the brightest star in the sky, but he sure is the most sincere and kindhearted. What you see is what you get with him. He gets along with everybody, making friends wherever he goes, and tends not to get too upset over things. He does, however, get easily flustered, especially when his heart is involved. He'd match with someone who is just as sweet and easygoing as he is, and together they won't have a complaint in the galaxy.
...Some similarities: Tup
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Fives is like Mr. Tilney... He's charming and he's playful, he's smart and he's soft. Though he may be private about some matters, overall he's fair and honest and has a very calm but confident demeanor. And yes, he does have a unique appreciation for fashion unfound in other clones. Such a range of traits means he will first and foremost be a friend before a lover, though once shifted to the latter, will have plenty of teasing fun. He'll love someone who can surprise him in return.
...Some similarities: Howzer
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Rex is like Captain Wentworth... On the outside he's a strong, dashing trooper, calm and collected in any room he finds himself in. But underneath the politeness and agreeableness is a bleeding heart, a sense of duty that often causes him to strain past his limits. He wants to do the right thing, even if it's at the expense of his own feelings. While he can maintain all sorts of friendships, the only romantic interest he'll have is in someone who knows their mind and sticks to it.
...Some similarities: Hunter
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Cody is like Colonel Brandon... Really puts the sense in sensibility, am I right? Faithful, admirable, and smart... he's not old, just "seasoned." He knows which fights are worth having and which are just petty drama to stay out of. He's very generous with his time and resources, but in more of a subtle, working in the background kind of way. His loved ones will have a comfortable life if it's the last thing he does. He may not be traditionally romantic, but his patience and devotion more than make up for it.
...Some similarities: Fox
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Echo is like Edward Ferrars... He's another duty-bound gentleman who sometimes gets in the way of his own happiness by choosing to follow what's expected of him over his own heart. He's a fan of good company and good conversation, and can generally get along with anyone. Though his personality may not be as charming, or his looks as flashy, he'd still be able to easily endear himself to a partner of equally good character and heart, once he had no other conflicting interests.
...Some similarities: Dogma
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Kix is like Mr. Knightley... He is a sharp, perceptive man who looks out for both his friends and community as if they were family. His maturity serves as a good balance to his more, let's say, chaotic acquaintances, though he's not above having a bit of fun when it makes sense. Despite having such a good head on his shoulders, he can't help but be attracted to someone on the wilder side. Some would say they actually enjoy arguing, probably because they secretly know it helps them both grow.
...Some similarities: Tech
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tobiasrieper · 3 years
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the outer worlds ► the unreliable
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lacheri · 3 years
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when you can’t sleep at night // wake me (sequel)
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pairing: captain!Levi x cadet!fem bodied reader
content: angst, canonverse, mentions and talks of death/portrayals of death, depictions of violence, blood, overall dark themes, unestablished relationship, fingering, mutual loss of virginities, overstimulation, takes place sometime before the 57th expedition (didn't follow an exact timeline), there is a lot of talks about dying in this, levi asks a lot of intrusive questions, minors DNI.
summary: levi finds he holds an affection to a certain cadet of his. you find that maybe the comfort of your captain can quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind, even if just for one night.
wc: 10.7k
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The clouds were so fluffy, so white and pure as you longingly watched them swirl above you. Your entire body was numb, back flat against the dirt with all your limbs stretched out. Your brain felt fuzzy, and for a fleeting moment you were flying in the clouds. You could feel the water vapor skim past your fingertips, the air whooshing against you as you soared. You looked down at the earth beneath your form, all the trees and even the walls looked so tiny from this height. This peaceful daydream was pulled from you with a start, your chest heaving with coughs.
“I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice call out, your line of vision intruded by the hazy form of a person leering over you. “I didn’t mean to hit you like that!”
“‘S okay,” you choked out, the numbness fading into aches all over your body. “I’ve gotten you good a couple of times too, Eren.”
“You know what, on second thought,” Eren’s lips spread into a smirk as he extended a hand down. “Consider this payback for beating my ass all those times in the Training Corps.”
“Good on you for finally landing a hit,” you chuckled, wincing as he hauled you to your feet. “Only took you three years.”
You rocked on your ankles, steadying yourself quickly before your legs gave out on you. Eren had gotten you good, roundhouse kicking you in your chest to lay you out on your ass. His training sessions had begun to pay off, used to the reverse happening when the two of you sparred. Mikasa would look on intently, a small smile on her lips when you’d punch Eren’s smug face with a sharp hook. You and 104th cadets were a friendly, strong group, bonded over the horrors of the titans, especially after what happened in Trost.
“What are you brats doing out here?”
Your heads whipped in the direction of the strong voice, meeting the steely hard set eyes of Levi, your captain and soon to be squad leader. His arms were crossed, and you gulped upon taking notice of how his biceps strained under the grey linen of his button up. You quickly flickered your focus back to his eyes before he caught you eyeing him up.
“Just sparring,” Eren hadn’t released the grip on your hand, nor had he noticed he was still holding onto your palm as he addressed the superior. “Prepping for the mission tomorrow.”
Levi frowned, “And who told you it was okay to do so when I gave you cadets instruction to clean the headquarters from top to bottom?”
You pulled your hand from Eren’s as you responded, “Sorry, Captain Levi. We’ll get on it right away.”
Levi only let out a displeased ‘tch’ as he turned on his heels, walking away without further commentary. Eren shot you an eye roll, and you held back a snicker as the pair of you followed shortly after the ravenette. Maybe the two of you had snuck away to leave the rest of your comrades to attack the former Survey Corps headquarters with dusters and cleaning rags, not wanting to participate in your weekly assigned duties. Eren had been adamant in the cobwebbed hallway on the second floor that he had to practice his hand to hand combat, just in case your squads ran into some problems on tomorrow’s mission. You had eagerly agreed, wanting to be as far away from the unsettled dust that assaulted your nostrils, itching at your allergies.
As the three of you entered the building, Levi abruptly turned to the two of you trailing behind him, you and Eren jumping in fright, “Eren, go to the dining hall, you’re going to wipe down underneath all the tables. As for you, brat, you get the honor of cleaning my room.”
Eren shot you a sympathetic look discreetly, nodding to your captain as he hightailed it to the hall.
You swallowed a lump in your throat, alone now with the captain. He studied you for a brief moment, gesturing with his head for you to follow him. Your feet moved before your mind could will you, and the soft thuds of your footsteps across the wooden planks of the floor was all that was heard. You snuck glances at the man before you, taking notice that his undercut was slightly grown in, his longer hair uncharacteristically out of place. Levi looked disheveled in a way, his tan leather jacket creased.
You opened your mouth to make a comment, but decided against it in the end. You were going to offer your assistance, to help freshen up his fade and to do his laundry, but figured Levi was a grown man who could take care of himself. You had a soft spot for the man, humanity’s strongest soldier. You knew a title like that came with a weight you could not fathom, especially after the horrors you had seen at Trost when the titans broke through the walls. You could remember everything so clearly, almost as if it was happening right now. You had nearly died that day.
Your older age amongst your fellow cadets was not one of gain you found out. After learning about the tragedy of Wall Maria, the wall closest to your village, it inspired you to join the Survey Corps in order to help the world. Humanity was dying, almost completely obliterated. Distant family members had died in Shiganshina that day, and the reality of the titans weighed heavily on you. How could you sit idly by as the world you knew was being destroyed before your very eyes? What would’ve happened had that attack been on your small village instead of the Shiganshina district? How would you have protected your own?
So with those thoughts in mind, you joined the training corps. Your parents had disagreed with broken hearts, knowing the likely fate of your choices. Your mother had insisted that you were of ripe marrying age, and that they had no other children to carry your family name. They begged and pleaded for you to settle down and find a husband, to help humanity in a different way by bearing children. You knew this was just a fantasy, and you knew it would be entirely possible that if you were to follow their wishes, the family you would create would be devoured and destroyed. This was the only way you could help, no matter your age or being in your reproductive prime. You needed to slaughter the titans, one by one until none remained. You kissed your beloved family goodbye the day you left for training, and you frequently sent them letters to let them know you were well and alive. One day, they all were returned back to you as you sat in the barracks, and one of the captains informed you that your village was destroyed, your parents and friends from home all dead.
You thought of them as you sliced through a five meter titan’s nape in Trost, your first kill. The citizens of the district ran stampeding in retreat, and caught up in the heat of it all, you had failed to account for the seven meter barreling behind you. When it’s burning fingers wrapped around your body, you sobbed, preparing to meet your family in the afterlife, whatever that would look like. You could feel the hot spats of drool hit your cheeks as the titan opened its mouth, bearing teeth and a cruel grin, and then suddenly, you were flying, caught in the arms of a savior. You stared in disbelief at the cut off fingers on the graveled stone of the street, to only be brought out of this state as Mikasa held you close and questioned if you were alright.
After the dust settled and the casualties were counted, you could feel a fire blazing deep within you. You never wanted to be vulnerable like that ever again, you wanted to be strong like Mikasa. Then, you met Captain Levi. You didn’t know much about him, but his reputation spoke volumes. You wanted the strength of the Ackermans whom you so deeply admired. You begged Commander Erwin to be assigned to Levi’s squad, and your wish was granted. You had been in the top rankings of your class, and you had a solo kill under your belt, aside from the near fatal clutch of another titan. Most of all, you had survived, a bigger feat than most of your comrades.
“Oi, you done daydreaming?” Levi’s cool voice brought you out of your train of thoughts as you arrived outside a wooden door, presumably his temporary living space.
“Sorry, just thinking,” you mumbled as he opened the door.
“Didn’t think you were capable of that. All the supplies are in the box on my desk, I want this room spotless, I don’t care how long it takes,” your captain grumbled as he made strides to his desk in the center of the room.
The room was fairly large, a double bed pressed against the left wall and the dark wooden desk was littered in paperwork. Half filled bookshelves lined the right wall, some mismatched couches and chairs filled the empty space. Honestly, the space was nearly perfect, even the bed was made. You knew better than to point this out to your superior though, so you had simply nodded and began to sort through the various cleaning supplies.
The scratch of Levi’s pen filled the hour long silence as you worked, dusting every surface and wiping it down with disinfectant spray and an old rag. After sweeping thoroughly, you flickered your eyes to the single window in the entire room, surprised completely as the sun had nearly set. The two of you were probably going to miss dinner, you realized as Levi poked his head up from the pile of papers he was concentrated on, a clear look of distaste on his features.
“This is what you call clean?” he spat, running a hand through his bangs. “Mop the floors, cadet.”
You sighed, feeling the subtle growl of hunger in the pit of your stomach. The mop laid in the left corner by the bedroom door, where you had found the broom. You swapped the two, picking up a bucket on the floor. You filled the wooden container with disinfectant, not seeing any polish in the box Levi had provided. He only rolled his eyes at seeing this, but said nothing. At least the floor would be clean.
Levi had lit a few lamps around the room to provide lighting as the sun dipped lower in the sky, swallowing the room in darkness. The floor was sparkling as you finished the last spot, a feeling of satisfaction filling your chest.
“Better?” you interrupted his concentration. He gazed around the room silently, face blank.
“Much,” Levi finally spoke. “That’ll be all, cadet.”
You smiled, setting the cleaning supplies back to their original locations, “Do you want me to bring you anything? I’m going down to grab dinner.”
Levi’s eyes widened at the question, not expecting your offer, “Some tea would be fine. Don’t fuck it up either, brat.”
You nodded as he dismissed you, and you treaded down the stairwell from the second floor to the kitchens. Some of the other cadets littered the dining hall as you passed, seeing some of your comrades laughing at a table, but you paid them no mind. In the kitchen there was hardly any leftover food from the dinner, scraps of potatoes sat in a large bowl on one of the counterspaces. You sighed, scarfing down whatever was available while you set a rusted kettle to a flame. The water was boiled within minutes, and you poured it over tea leaves in two teacups. You cleaned up your mess, and made your way back to Levi’s room.
You knocked twice on the door, hearing his grunt to signal you to enter. Levi was still positioned in his chair at his desk, head in his hands as he scanned over his documents. You placed his cup down silently, ready to leave the man to his work.
“Why are you here, cadet?” your captain called out as you went to open the door.
You turned your head to look at him, his eyes never leaving the words of his papers, “What do you mean, captain?”
“The Survey Corps,” he clarified, finally making eye contact. “Why?”
“To save humanity, sir?” you didn’t mean to speak as if you were questioning him, but your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
He scoffed, setting his paperwork aside, “Humanity, huh? You’re a bit too old to be in the graduating class you’re currently in. Why join now?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m confused,” your body was facing his entirely now. “Why are you asking me these questions?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense,” he more so mumbled to himself. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be pregnant with your first born, with a husband. Instead, you’re here, trying to fight titans.”
“With all due respect, Captain,” your voice was laced with controlled anger. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Aren’t you scared?” Levi continued, ignoring your question. “You could’ve picked the easy way.”
“It would’ve been in vain. My village was wiped out shortly after Wall Maria fell.”
He hummed, his hands coming down to rest on the wooden notches of his desk, papers forgotten, “You were in the top ranks. You could’ve joined the military police.”
“And hear how my comrades died instead of helping them?” you gawked.
“It’s a lot better than watching.”
You shut your mouth then, lips pressing tightly together. You didn’t understand why your captain was questioning you like this.
“I see the way you are with them,” his tone softened, not looking you in the eyes as he spoke. “How you all are.”
“Just because I’m friendly doesn’t mean I’ll forget the purpose of the scouts,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. “I have my own ass to account for.”
Levi pushed off his chair suddenly, scraping the just mopped floor and jolting up to his legs, “You have no idea what it’s like out there. Your friends are going to die, cadet. There’ll be nothing you can do to save them. Are you prepared for that? Collecting their bodies, or whatever’s left of them to take home to their families?”
Your mouth went dry, jaw slacking, “Captain, I know what loss feels like. My family is dead, some of my so called ‘friends’ died in Trost. I know what I signed up for.”
He scoffed, circling around his desk to stand a few feet away from you, “Haven’t you seen enough?”
“Are you trying to get me to quit the Survey Corps?” you asked incredulously.
“Yes. You don’t belong here,” his tone was rough as he spat at you. “Go find a husband. Get the fuck out of the military.”
“I don’t want to,” your anger simmered as you stared down at your boots. “I don’t have a home to go back to. I can’t leave. I know the other cadets aren’t my friends. I’m just trying to make the best out of my life before I die. I know I’m going to die. What’s so wrong about trying to find comfort in others?”
“You are a fool,” he seethed, teeth clenched. “You want to die?”
You shook your head, not bothering to keep the conversation going, “I’m going to bed, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow for the mission.”
“I didn’t dismiss you, cadet,” Levi towered over you now as your hand wrapped around the doorknob.
You brought your fist up to your chest in a salute as you began to exit, “With absolutely no disrespect, I’m exhausted. Have a good night, Captain.”
You pushed the door shut in front of you as you stood in the hallway. You knew you would be getting an ear full from Levi in the morning, but honestly, the conversation was beginning to stir up feelings you’d rather not address. Intrusive thoughts filled your mind as you made your way to the first floor where your temporary bedroom resided.
You couldn’t answer Levi’s question because in a way, in a very selfish train of thought, you didn’t want to be a part of the titan’s world anymore, whether that meant death or something else. How easy it would be for you to greedily pack your things and leave the military and take refuge in some random village to live out the rest of your days, however long they would be. Or to just simply become fodder for the titans in your quest to rid the world of their reign.
Your uniform was folded on your bedside table, a cotton shirt and shorts on your body as you sat on your bed over the covers. You could hear the soft snores of Christa as she slumbered peacefully in the bed across the room, and you gazed over her body under her covers. You knew the people you trained with, fought with, grew fond of, were not your friends. How could they be? It’d only make things harder in the end. Like Levi had said, you might be the one collecting their deceased bodies after a battle. How could you ever grow close to someone that you knew their days were numbered?
The 104th cadets were your comrades, not your makeshift family. You had to remind yourself of that every time Sasha would ask for your leftovers, batting her big eyes at you. When Eren would spar with you, telling you how strong you were and commending you on how far you had come since the first day of the Training Corps. How Mikasa literally saved your life, and how you had admired her ever since. Armin’s unmatched potential and growth. Jean’s relentless taunting, giving you the nickname of gram because of your age. Connie, well frankly, just being Connie. Reiner and Bertholdt’s strong will and passion. Annie’s unwavering willpower and prowess. All the other cadets who you’d gotten to know so well, you had to constantly imagine their corpses as they smiled at you and tried to get to know you. So, you stayed back, opting to be alone at any opportunity, so their deaths would be easier to swallow when the time came.
You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to try and rid yourself of your thoughts. It was of no use, and with a sigh you pushed yourself out of your bed. You deemed it would be yet again another sleepless night, and you realized sadly you had left your tea cup in Levi’s office completely untouched. You didn’t bother to entertain the thought of going back to retrieve it, instead you slinked through your bedroom door and out of the headquarters.
The night air was chilly, and you felt regret for not grabbing your jacket on your way out. The moon was gone, a completely black night, and you could see the stars crystal clear. The sky was your favorite sight, especially on nights like this.
You found a nice patch of soft grass, and laid on your back to gaze up at the sky. This was always your comfort, even as a child, to go outside and watch the sky, day or night. Your mother would warn you that your eyes would fall out of your head if you stared too long at the sun, at the moon. You didn’t care, because in those moments you felt so free. Free of the walls that caged you inside, of the world around you. You were the clouds, the stars, the wind as it rolled past. Maybe you were never meant to be human, you mused. You were meant to be nature, never to experience the trials and tribulations of sentinel living. You were supposed to be free, all knowing and ignorant at the same time, existing without the weight of consciousness.
“Thought you were going to bed, cadet?”
You were startled by the boom of a familiar voice behind you, collecting yourself and clearing your throat, “I couldn’t sleep.”
Levi’s head bobbed into your field of vision, “Thought too hard today?”
You rolled your eyes, feeling guilty as you caught the action afterwards and hoped your captain wouldn’t find it as a disrespect, “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Why are you out here of all places, without a jacket?” out of the corner of your eye you watched as Levi brought himself down to sit next to you.
“I like watching the sky,” you put simply, trying not to make eye contact. “Makes me feel better.”
“About dying?” he said, and you knew that he wouldn’t let your previous conversation go. You decided to humor him, if only to get these thoughts out of your mind.
“Yes.”
“Like what?” he almost sounded uninterested, but from his line of questioning you knew he was anything but.
“I don’t want to die,” you admitted, digging your fingernails into the grass by your waist. “I don’t want to watch anyone die. I never wanted to join the military. I felt like I had no choice.”
“We always have a choice,” he leaned his back to see whatever had your attention draw above you.
“Either fight the titans or get eaten alive when they attack the walls?” you snorted. “What a hard decision to make.”
“Why’d you join the Survey Corps?” he asked once again.
“I didn’t want my family’s death to be in vain. I had cousins, aunts and uncles in Shiganshina.”
“What about your death?”
“I hope it’ll mean something,” you breathed, feeling your chest get tight. “I hope this all will mean something.”
Levi looked at you then, a glimmer of something you couldn’t identify in his eyes, “You sound like Erwin when you talk like that.”
You made eye contact, a small smile on your lips, “The Commander’s an amazing man. I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
Levi scoffed, “Take it as you will.”
“What else could I do? I’m trying so hard to make a difference, to make life easier for others so they don’t have to suffer this fate. Isn’t that why we all joined the Survey Corps?” you continued your train of thought. “Maybe we all have a death wish. Fuck, I know I have one. It all just fucking hurts, Captain. I can’t help but think of others all the time, of all the loss and the grief they've gone through, what I’ve been through. At what will keep happening until all the titans are gone for good.”
“Why the sky?” he changed the subject, seemingly bored of your repetitive narrative.
“Because there’s no titans up there,” you joked without humor. “There’s no walls, no boundaries, no rules. It’s never ending. Where are the stars? How does day and night occur? Where does the moon go when the sun’s out? It amazes me, that’s all. Makes me think of how big the world is, of what’s out there besides this.”
“You think too much for a brainless brat,” Levi grumbled, laying on his back and joining you.
“I know,” you chuckled, turning your body to face him. “Wish I could turn off all my thoughts, it would probably make life a whole lot more livable.”
He hummed, eyes drawn in to your face, “I understand. What you said earlier, too, about finding comfort in others.”
“What do you mean?” you propped your head on your hand and you positioned your elbow to support you.
“I guess I never thought about it before tonight,” he blinked, expression unreadable. “Life as a soldier isn’t a comforting one. I guess that’s what I was trying to tell you about.”
You read between the lines of his words, recognizing it as his form of an apology, “I know. But it’s still the life I chose. At least I’m trying to make a difference, we all are.”
“Y’know, I’ve been paying attention to you for some time now. I didn’t understand when Erwin came to me and told me you had asked to be put on my squad. I took a look in your file, and I saw you after the attack on Trost, and I still didn’t understand,” Levi spoke slowly. “I don’t think I get you at all, even now.”
“I don’t think I understand myself,” you laughed dryly, returning your attention to the sky.
“You should get some sleep, cadet,” he advised softly, pushing himself off the ground. “And for fuck’s sake do it soon, I won’t be taking care of your ass if you get a cold.”
Levi stalked off before you could utter a response. You sighed, and decided his words were wise enough to follow. A few moments after your captain had left you, you followed his pathway back to the entrance of the former headquarters. You entered, making a hasty retreat back to your room where Christa was still knocked out cold.
Under your covers, you replayed your conversations with Levi. You still couldn’t figure out why he had questioned you like he had, why he even cared in the first place. Maybe it was his own gnawing curiosity, trying to understand why some random twenty-something year old girl insisted on being in his squad like you had. Maybe, you thought egotistically, you had your own reputation. You inwardly snorted, probably not.
Images of your captain under the moonlight played beneath your eyelids as you finally managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep.
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The mission had gone horribly wrong. At least for you, to be honest you had no idea where the rest of your comrades were as you raced on your horse, desperately searching the sky for flares. You hadn’t seen a single one in a while now, at least ten minutes, and your heart was thudding hard as thoughts that the entire fleet of soldiers you had joined had been decimated. You were completely alone, the walls distant behind you. All you knew is that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t turn around or else you’d really be lost.
The 104th had stayed behind at the former headquarters, this having been a smaller expedition to clear out some titans before the planned 57th expedition in a few weeks. Levi, Oluo, Petra, and Gunther, as well as a few other squads accompanying you, were in a near perfect formation when an abnormal titan had broken through, killing a few unnamed soldiers at your side that you had never met before today.
In the far left distance, you could see a large forest full of trees. Your jaw slacked open, relief running through your veins when you caught sight of some men on horses heading that direction. Green flares shot up high in the sky, and you pulled the reins of your mare to follow. Your plan was brought to a screeching halt though, as you heard the thunderous footsteps shake your horse, and your body. You threw a glance behind your shoulder, a ten meter titan running straight towards you. You reached to your side quickly, shooting a red flare above you to warn any close by comrades.
The titan was gaining speed, about a dozen yards now behind you. You really wanted to avoid confrontation was much as possible, but as those yards closed between you and the titan, you growled and prepared yourself. You gave your horse a soft pat on her neck, and heaved yourself to stand on the saddle. You gaged your surroundings, seeing complete flat plains all around you, not an ideal situation for fighting at all.
Your odm gear shot you straight to the titan’s legs, a plan instilled in your head on the best way to take it down. It was fairly thin and muscular, but you decided it was just a plain titan as it dumbly stared at you with its wicked grin. Your dual blades locked in your hands now, you swung behind the titan and sliced through its ankles. The ten meter fell swiftly, giving you the perfect opportunity to land on its nape and kill it. It stilled completely beneath you after your swift cuts, and you ran as fast as your body willed you to rejoin your mare.
You placed your fingers to your lips, whistling as loud as you could. Your horse, at least 100 feet away, perked its ears and turned at a rapid speed straight back to you. She neighed as she reached your form, and you hauled yourself back on her saddle, kicking your legs for her to break into a full gallop to where the green flares still lingered in the air.
You didn’t bother to signal another flare in the air, seeing no other flares around you. As you neared closer to the forest, you felt incredibly relieved at the sight of your squad, now able to make out their faces. Petra waved her hands high in the air, about 20 feet away now. You saw Oluo, Gunther, and Levi, unharmed, as you got closer, bringing your horse down to a slightly slower gait, seeing no titans around.
“Are you okay?” Petra shouted at you once you reached the group. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay!” you spoke as fast as you could. “The other cadets I was with were killed by an abnormal, I got split up from them.”
“What was that red flare?” Oluo questioned, worry riddled in his eyes.
“It’s fine, I killed it,” you breathed shakily. “Where are the others?”
“Retreating back to the walls,” Levi answered, voice hard and commanding. “We’re out of blades, and there've been too many casualties. The others have the deceased’s bodies.”
You and your squad nodded, and with no further delay, you broke your horses into a full sprint back to the walls. The sun hung low in the sky, sunset merely a few hours away. Now in a formation in the clear open plains, you noticed out of the corner of your eye some movement.
“Abnormal titan to the right!” you screamed, turning your head to watch the titan’s arms flail, running in an irregular pattern.
“Holy fuck,” Gunther’s eyes widened in horror, shooting a black flare into the sky. “That’s got to be a 15 meter!”
“Don’t engage!” Levi barked, eyes trained straight ahead at the walls. “Keep an eye on it!”
“Sir!” the four of you quipped.
It seemed the abnormal titan had other plans as it caught sight of the five of you, its pace changing with intentions.
“It’s heading straight towards us!” Petra called out, flickering her eyes between the running titan and your captain. “Orders, Captain?”
Levi kept silent, much to your horrors. It was only a few yards away now, speed not slowing. Levi’s attention was completely ahead, the walls almost in full view. You were so close, not close enough though and the abnormal titan’s legs moved faster.
“Captain Levi!” Oluo shouted, eyebrows shot into his hairline.
The titan was less than three yards away when Levi finally spoke, “Petra, Oluo, make it fast!”
You shot off your horse before Levi’s lips opened, his commands unheard by you. Your odm ropes attached right into the titan’s ankles, just like how you had done before. There’s a reason they called it an abnormal titan though you discovered as its fingers closed around the wiring of your gear, yanking the ropes out of its skin and hauling your body up.
You squirmed, mashing your buttons desperately to get your hooks out of its fist as you were brought to the titan’s mouth. It was an ugly son of a bitch, teeth on full display in its evil smile. You couldn’t believe how badly you had fucked up again, the titan’s other hand gaining momentum as it lifted to wrap its disgusting meaty fingers around you. You watched as the fingers were sliced off before they could reach you, and suddenly you were free falling as the hand holding your odm ropes fell from its arm. You redirected yourself back to its ankles, back to your original plan of taking out the nerves to allow the titan to fall, your nerves entirely shot, your adrenaline in full control.
Levi had both his swords drawn as he met you at the back of the 15 meter’s legs, “Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed? You should’ve let the others handle it!”
“I thought I had it, Captain!” you curtly shouted, cutting through the tendons and getting sprayed with steaming blood. The titan did not falter though, but thankfully you and Levi had created a useful diversion as Petra, and Oluo took out the titan’s nape. You and your group shot back to your horses as the titan fell from its height, dead on impact.
The opening of the gate of Wall Rose was a fucking blessing, and your squad couldn’t have ran through it any faster. You heard the roaring of the gate as it closed behind you, and you were choking on shallow breaths as you slowed your mare’s gait.
None of you spoke a single word as you returned to the former headquarters, exhausted after the adrenaline of your mission wore off. You returned your horses to the stables, where feed and water awaited them. Your squad practically ran off, and you were confused until you saw the pissed off look of your superior aimed directly at you. Gulping down spit, you turned on your heel, ready to take off.
Levi’s arm shot out around your bicep, harshly tugging you to stop your escape, “Are you a fucking idiot, cadet? What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I thought I could take out the titan by its ankles!” you defended quickly, gritting your teeth as his fingers dug into your clothed arm. “It’s how I took out the other titan I killed, Captain!”
“You better learn quickly that all titans are not the same! Or did you not learn that in training?” Levi growled out between clenched teeth.
“I thought I could take it out,” you grumbled, ripping your arm out of his grip.
“You betrayed my orders. You listen to me and my commands, cadet,” he spat out, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes burning holes into yours. “Remember your place.”
You pivoted yourself away from your captain, trotting ahead to head inside the headquarters, voice laced with malice as you grumbled, “I’ll do as I see fit.”
This would be the second time Levi hadn’t dismissed you before leaving him behind, you realized as you arrived at the communal bathroom. You sighed heavily, leaning back against the closed door, completely alone. Thankfully, it was very late in the evening, and if your comrades weren’t in bed already, they would be heading to sleep soon. You were so relieved to get some much needed alone time, especially now that you had such a terrible day.
You changed out of your blood soaked uniform, not bothering to fold it as you laid the clothes on the floor. Stark naked, you began to fill the bathtub basin with running water, a very rare luxury due to the previous care when the headquarters was up and running. With the porcelain half filled, the water steaming, you sunk your aching body into the scalding bath. The water turned a deep pink as you scrubbed your skin with a rag that had been resting over the rim. You untied your hair and dipped your head back, threading your fingers through your knots after generously coating the strands with soap. You drained the dirty water, refilling it back up now that most of the dirt and blood had been washed away. The tub held a pastel pink hue now, but you felt much cleaner and you sunk back in the tub, stretching out as much as you could.
You didn’t dare close your eyes for too long, picturing the events of today. You didn’t try to reflect on the lives that had been lost on today’s mission, the strangers you never had the pleasure, or perhaps displeasure, of getting to know. It made it easier in a sense to forget, to keep pushing forward. Still, the gore and the cruelty of what being a part of the scouts was truly about haunted the corners of your mind as you absentmindedly rubbed soap along your limbs. Maybe you were trying to wash away these memories, too.
Half an hour later, you decided it was time to dry off and get into comfortable clothing as the water cooled and your skin had pruned. You unplugged the drain, standing and reaching for a towel. Wrapping the fabric around your chest, you stepped out of the tub, feet leaving wet prints on the floor as you treaded to your bedroom, soiled clothes in hand.
An oversized white long sleeve hung off your frame, accompanied by your favorite cotton shorts as you sat on your bed, completely alone. Christa had briefly mentioned before your mission this morning that she’d be spending the night with Ymir, to which you were inwardly grateful for the promise of solidarity. As you sat hunched over, you found yourself longing for the comforting presence of someone, anyone, to distract you from the images that plagued your mind, no matter how hard you tried to push them away.
You jerked with a start as you pictured the angry face of your captain, feeling immense guilt pool in your gut. You had never spoken so much with Levi before yesterday, realizing the weight of your words and actions, reckless and undermining his authority. Maybe you owed him an apology, for if nothing else to at least calm your mind enough for sleep.
You didn’t remember the walk when you had arrived outside the captain’s door, or could recall if you had knocked before it swung open, revealing Levi’s surprised expression.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, nervously tugging at your sleeves as you avoided eye contact. “I’ve been disrespectful, Captain, and I’m sorry.”
“Cadet,” his teeth clenched tightly. “Do you understand what time it is?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” you whimpered, legs ready for a moment's notice of a retreat. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave—“
Levi’s hand shot out to circle your wrist, and you finally looked up into his charcoal eyes, “Don’t, come in.”
You couldn’t protest as you guided you into his room, shutting the door behind you after you passed the entry. Levi was dressed casually, beige cotton shirt hanging off his torso, plain grey pants on his lower half. The bags under his eyes told you he had also not been able to fall asleep. He led you to sit on his neatly made bed, towering over you with his arms tightly crossed.
“I was on my way to check on you.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”
“You didn’t knock,” Levi clarified, looking anywhere but at you. “I was already at the door. You’d seen a lot today. I don’t need my soldiers having breakdowns after every mission.”
He was worried about you, your breath halted in your throat.
“Oh,” you dumbly said.
“Seems like you did me a favor by coming here,” he mused, sighing as he ran a hand through his bangs. “Why can’t you sleep?”
“Thinking, again, about everything,” you crossed your thighs, body language signally how uncomfortable you were upon talking about these feelings.
“Your brain is going to cause you more grief if you don’t stop,” Levi’s spare hand grasped your chin gently, bringing your head up so you could look him in the eyes. “Why do you insist on being alone with these thoughts?”
“Captain, weren’t you just saying it’s a bad idea to have friends?” you could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest at his gesture, unsure of his intentions.
“Weren't you just talking about finding comfort in others?” Levi leaned down, you felt his breath against your lips as he spoke. “I’ve been paying attention to you for awhile, cadet.”
“You looked in my file, you told me already,” you whispered, unsure that if you spoke at full volume your voice wouldn’t quiver.
“No, I’ve been watching you. You’re not exactly quiet when you sneak out at night, y’know. I’ve seen you,” he hesitated briefly before continuing. “I’ve watched you cry all alone, how you try to distance yourself from the others. I was testing you yesterday, brat. I think I understand now, though.”
Your captain crouched down to meet you at eye level, fingertips never straying from your chin, and you felt your lip quiver as he rasped, “I understand, because I get it. You’ve always felt alone, haven't you?”
You nodded, scared to voice the truth, he continued, “I’m not going to explain myself to you, and if I hear a single word spoken about any of our conversations, I will personally sign your extermination paperwork. You’re different, you’re not like the others. You know what grief is, what pain and loss feels like. Your mission, your goals, it keeps driving you forward. Who couldn’t notice that?”
Levi scoffed, and you managed out a tiny, “Captain Levi.”
“Yes?”
“Why are you telling me this?” you could feel the harsh prick of tears try to escape your eyes, blinking furiously to not allow them to fall.
“Because,” he brushed back your hair behind your ear with his spare hand. “We’re exactly the same, and I can’t allow you to continue living like this, knowing where you’ll end up. Are you a virgin, cadet?”
“Yes,” you stuttered, thoroughly embarrassed.
“I am too,” Levi confessed, his eyes baring his soul. “I’m in my thirties, and I’ve never taken a woman to bed. All because of my mission.”
“My parents raised me to save myself for marriage,” your lips hung open. “But, they’re dead now, and I’ll probably never be married.”
“Cadet?” Levi’s hand came up from your chin to rest his palm against your cheek. “You talk about choices, you told me about how you never followed the path set for you. Why don’t you allow yourself some peace, some comfort? If not for yourself, for others, for your fellow comrades?”
“Are you asking to fuck me, sir?” your body felt heavy, uncomfortably numb but you couldn’t will yourself to move an inch, your mind was frazzled.
“I’m asking for permission to comfort you, both of us. I’m tired of being alone, aren’t you?” his face had fallen completely, and you were in awe of how open and raw Levi was.
You didn’t answer him, instead pushing his hands off of your face to capture his cheeks in your own hands, forcing your lips together. Fuck the world, fuck the titans, fuck every single thing that dared to bother you and your existence. You were tired, tired of denying yourself pleasures and comfort and basic human interaction. Who cared if you all died? Would it be for naught that you had never gotten to know your comrades? What would be the point in dying for your military if you didn’t have a motivation, a passion driving you? You were so fucking lonely, and Levi was too as he crashed his lips against yours, wrapping his long arms around your back to hold you closer.
You felt the older ravenette pull away for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred and muscular chest. You ran your fingers over his middle slowly, taking in every dip and every flex of his body. Levi was beautiful, and you felt honored that you were here in this moment, with a man who had heard more of your thoughts and feelings than any person before. He stopped your hands as they came to his pecks, pushing your arms high to remove your own shirt.
Your nipples hardened meeting the cold air, exposed now in the dim candle light. You didn’t dare cover yourself, nor did Levi let you get the chance. His hands were all over your chest within an instant, caressing and groping as his lips met yours once again. You hadn’t bothered to tell Levi that he was your first kiss, the first man to see you naked, the first man who had shown genuine interest in you and your body. Maybe you’d tell him later, but for now, you just wanted to quell the thoughts swarming your mind.
You stood quickly, maneuvering your lips to the side of his exposed neck. Your kisses were sweet, innocent and pure as Levi began to pull your shorts off, your panties accompanying the fabric. You kicked out of them as Levi grabbed the back of your head, groaning as he slammed your mouths together once more in an open kiss.
Your hands were everywhere on his skin, trying desperately to remember every single detail, knowing that this would most likely be a one time thing. You knew the risks of becoming entangled in a romantic relationship in the military, more so the scouts. Levi or you, or anyone, could die at any moment. This only motivated you further in your desire, ripping down his pants, mildly surprised to see your captain not wearing any underpants.
Levi breathily mumbled as he grasped your waist and led you flat on your back atop his bed, “I thought you were dead today.”
“I’m not, and neither are you,” you hushed his spoken thoughts with another passionate kiss. He tasted minty from his tea, smelled of woodsy musk from his obvious earlier shower, his touch so soft as he grazed your body up and down.
You felt his knees between your legs as he loomed over you, pushing apart your thighs at the force. His right hand stroked your cheek as his tongue prodded past your willing lips, swollen from his attention. His left hand ventured south, resting upon the curve of your hip, digging his fingers to feel the supple flesh.
“You’re quite beautiful, y’know,” he mirrored your earlier ministrations, placing sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “One of the reasons I was so fascinated by you, I couldn’t understand how you weren’t married.”
“Maybe in another life,” you simply put, attention drawn to how sinful his lips felt against your flushed skin. He sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, and a whimper left your lips at the contact. You could feel your center slicken, cold air consuming all of your exposed skin. Levi’s hand dared closer and closer to your desire, and you made out the distinguished poke of his manhood against your lower stomach.
When his fingertips nudged against your folds, Levi let out a groan of pleasure, “You’re so wet, cadet. I’ve barely touched you.”
“Captain, I need this,” you begged, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him flush against you. “Please, distract me, make me forget.”
Levi felt no need to answer your pleads, instead allowing his fingers to familiarize himself with your most intimate of parts. His eyes stayed trained on yours, taking in every expression you made, one catching his focus immediately as his pointer finger circled the top of your folds. It felt like a button, and you started moaning desperately as he continued his circling.
“Feels good?” your captain asked, insecurity in the back of his mind.
“Yes,” you took your right hand away from Levi’s neck, grabbing his wrist that was in between your legs, dipping his fingers to your dripping entrance. “Need you here.”
He plunged his pointer and middle fingers in, and your velveteen walls clenched around him. You had pleasured yourself many times just like this, but the heightened pleasure of someone else’s knuckles deep inside you was incredible. No one had ever touched you like this before, looked at you so lovingly and so lustfully. His fingers scissored inside you, and you knew your patience would soon snap.
When Levi’s fingers curled upwards, you thought you were going to pass out. Your eyes screwed shut as loud mewls left your lips, Levi’s free hand covering your mouth. Your hips bucked upwards in his touch, hips rolling fast as your clit caught the fat of his palm. You could feel the familiar bubble of your climax, threatening to spill over as you arched your back.
Levi pulled his fingers from your weeping cunt then, so agonizingly slowly, “No, cadet. Not yet.”
You whined, pressure settling down in your abdomen as Levi took his soaking hand to his hard cock. You couldn’t believe that you hadn’t paid attention to his girth before, he was gorgeous. All the hard work and all the violence had sculpted your captain as if he were a statue. His length stood at full attention, pressed against his belly, his balls hanging in the free space between his thick thighs. You moaned at the sight of Levi stroking himself, seeing the glisten of your arousal coat him. He let out a strangled groan, before letting himself go, falling unceremoniously to capture your lips once again.
“You ready?” Levi asked permission, his kiss so sweet and tender, and you realized then the weight of all of this. You were about to lose your virginities to each other, he would forever hold a mark on you.
You smiled, so full of adoration, there wasn’t anyone else you’d rather be with right now as you spoke, “Yes, sir.”
Levi gripped the base of his dick, bumping the engorged head against your sensitive clit and through your folds as he coated himself more in your essence. You both knew this was going to hurt you, and had either of you not been in such a hurry, you’d take the time to mutually pleasure each other until your bodies were truly ready for this intimate act. There were no coherent thoughts in this moment, only pure passion and animalistic desire.
His tip sunk in, and you felt like you were going to be split in half. Your hands shot up to his arms, nails leaving half crescents on his biceps, your ankles hooking together on his ass as you tensed up at the pain.
“Relax,” he kissed your jaw with a groan. “Gonna’ take care of you.”
You nodded, focusing on his words instead of the pain. Your pelvic floor relaxed, and Levi was able to push himself deeper into your cavern.
“There’s no blood?” Levi questioned you curiously as he glanced down to where your bodies met, not moving even a centimeter to allow you to adjust.
The pain was quickly fading as you mumbled, “Probably broke my hymen on a goddamn horse.”
You both let out a breathy laugh, and Levi’s right hand came to stroke your cheek, pushing back your hair out of your face, “I’ll have to kill that horse then.”
You were rattling your brain for a witty response to your captain when Levi shifted, stroking his length backwards as your walls fluttered around him. Your face was no longer scrunched in pain, your eyebrows unfurrowed and your mouth hung open, feeling nothing but pleasure as his left hand shot to your pulsing pussy, thumbing your clit with the lightest of touches.
“Captain,” you stuttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Feels good.”
“Yeah,” he pushed his forehead to yours, his own eyes closing as he pushed his cock back into your depths, so slowly.
You placed a gentle kiss to his lips for a brief moment, neck craning off the pillow under your head. You felt a cramp as he kissed you back, so gently and so softly. You moved your mouth to his jaw, peppering kisses along any exposed skin you reach.
His right hand stayed positioned to your face, his grey colored orbs opened, focusing on your face. You looked up then, and felt your heart hammering in your chest. Levi was so handsome, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes softened without the weight of reality crashing down on him.
“I’m glad it’s you,” your arms were still wrapped around his neck as you rubbed soft circles along the ridge of his undercut. His hips held such a passionate, steady rhythm as he continued plunging into you.
Levi didn’t respond, his hand angling your face to his again. Although unspoken, you could see in his face that he appreciated your words, his thrusts faster in pace now. You couldn’t stop the moans from exiting your throat, volume increasing as his thumb worked you with more pressure. He swallowed your noises with his lips, not even kissing, the two of you just breathing into one another’s mouth.
Suddenly the distance wasn’t close enough, Levi’s hand left the curve of your cheek to wrap his arm around the middle of your back, forcing your body completely against his sweating one. His lips began to work against yours, sloppy and messy as you kissed the man back with the same fever.
Levi’s pace was solid, deep and without error. Your hips tried desperately to meet his thrusts, his wrist in between your centers blocking you from doing so. Your captain didn’t even so much as warn you to stop, his thumb rolling faster against your now swollen clit, that same heat in your stomach rebuilding rapidly. The two of you were so lost in each other, your arms leaving his neck to wrap around his shoulders and forcing his head down to your neck where he lapped and peppered kisses to conceal his own moans. You did the same, lips attached to the curve where his muscular shoulder met his neck.
His touch was unrelenting, but you felt the unmistakable shutter as he plunged right to your cervix, goosebumps rising on his skin under your fingertips. You let out a muffled moan, your nails clawing at his back, your legs somehow tighter around his backside.
Levi’s thumb rubbed harder, so much faster now than his thrusts. Your pussy was fluttering rapidly now, clenching and unclenching around his girth, you were so close. You had a feeling your captain was as well, his pace increasing even faster.
“I’m cumming,” you pulled away from his shoulder to warn Levi, sucking the sensitive area of his neck.
Levi moaned in pleasure, bucking his hips hard into you, and this was what sent you over the edge. Levi couldn’t move even if he wanted to as your cunt gripped him so tightly, contracting so hard around his length. You could hear a string of curses and ‘ah’s from his lips as your hips bucked wildly into his hand, rubbing your clit along his stilled thumb. You’d had plenty of self given orgasms before, but feeling completely filled as your walls fluttered around something was a pleasure you knew you’d be seeking again.
Your teeth were sunk into his neck, and Levi was finally able to continue his strokes as your orgasm slowed, your body limping. His thumb started once more, and you were whimpering at the overstimulation, your contractions not even done. He was pounding into you now, growling into your neck, you could feel the sharp clench of his jaw dig into your shoulder. It didn’t take you more than a minute to build up another orgasm, and as the new waves of pleasure slammed into you, Levi was pulling out.
You came around nothing as Levi rutted into your stomach, feeling the smear of hot cum rub against your middles. He was bucking desperately, moaning and whimpering. The sounds he made paired with the nonstop movement of his thumb only heightened your pleasure, your left hand coming to caress the back of his head.
He removed his touch from you, taking his dripping hand to your waist as his thrusts against your stomach slowed. It crawled under your back to meet his other arm, and he placed sensual, slow kisses to your neck. You did the same, thanking him non verbally. His head lifted, eyes half lidded as he placed his lips to yours, locking them in a saccharine embrace. He pulled away after a few moments, sliding off of your sticky body and out of the bed. Your arms fell to your sides, and he slipped his pants on, avoiding the area of his lower stomach where his cum was drying quickly. He rushed to his dresser, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping himself down quickly, returning back to your body to clean your middle as well.
“You’ll probably need to shower,” Levi broke the silence as he pulled the rag away, his empty hand roaming the curve of your side.
“Probably,” you mumbled in bliss, enjoying his light touch. “I’ll get up in just a minute.”
“You could stay,” Levi offered awkwardly, halting his movements.
“It’s okay, I think I want to be alone,” you smiled, your brain foggy. “Also don’t need rumors to start up if anyone sees me leaving your room in the morning.”
Levi only hummed as you pulled your naked body to a full stand, reaching for your discarded clothes. You pulled your long sleeve over your head first, the edges brushing against the tops of your thighs, stepping into your panties and shorts quickly. The silence was almost overwhelming, neither of you sure of what exactly to say.
“Captain Levi,” you finally spoke, ready to depart. “Thank you.”
He grabbed your wrist, pulling your body to his with no real force, kissing you passionately. You kissed him back hungrily, and had you been more experienced, you would’ve felt the flicker of sparks deep within your stomach, a signal of unconscious feelings sprouting within you.
You pulled away from him, a smile playing at your lips as he spoke raspily, “You know where to go if you don’t want to be alone.”
You threaded your fingers through his open palm, bringing his knuckles to your lips as you placed a soft peck to the back of his hand, “I will, Captain. Goodnight.”
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The heat of the sun beat harshly on your back, your body in a full ache as you dodged a punch from Eren. You went to lift your leg into a kick, a yelp leaving your lips at the feeling that you were going to rip in half, and quickly shifted your hips to plan a new attack. Thankfully, your fake out worked, seeing Eren prepare himself for your leg, not for your first to go flying into his gut.
With a loud groan of pain, Eren laid flat on his back in the dirt. Your chests heaved, sweat dripping down your skin, and you extended your palm to the younger boy. You had won this spar, and Eren huffed as he smacked his hand away playfully.
“I had you last time! I can’t believe I lost again!” he complained, eyebrows furrowed as he screwed his eyes shut in a fit.
You laughed then, crossing your arms over your chest, “You got lucky, Jaeger.”
Around the two of you, all the cadets were still in their own sparring matches. Even in your weary state, you had been the first match finished, and you feel a swell of pride. You were getting stronger, more fit to survive the harsh reality of this world.
“Cadets,” Captain Levi made himself known then, stepping forward from the row of squad leaders, unbeknownst to you and Eren he had been watching with a trained eye the entire fight.
“Captain!” you saluted, Eren lazily following along silently.
Levi’s eyes lingered over you for a minute, before shifting his attention to Eren before scoffing, “Pathetic, Jaeger. You need to work on your form.”
You tried desperately to hide a smirk, eyes lit up in amusement as Eren frowned deeply, sighing, trying not to lash out on your superior. Levi continued, “Cadet, good job.”
“Thank you, Captain,” you smiled brightly, now trying to conceal the oncoming heat of your blush flaming up your neck, licking the tips of your ears.
“However, never let your guard down after you think you’ve won.”
The sound of your skull cracking into the ground beneath you sent your vision in a dizzy frenzy. Levi hovered over you, and you could make out the lingering feeling of his boot hitting your stomach, causing you to lay flat on your back. The sun was high in the sky today, not a single cloud in view or whisk of wind felt.
“Ow,” you heaved, bringing yourself into a seated position, hunched over. “What was that for?”
“You can’t always predict what a titan’s next move is going to be,” Levi cooly explained, crouching down to meet your eye level. “This is how you fucked up, both times, with an abnormal. You have to pay attention. You can’t let yourself get caught up in a victory. Understood, brat?”
You nodded, feeling your ears grow hot as multiple sets of eyes watched on in curiosity, “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll see you in my office after dinner for your punishment,” his eyes twinkled, a hint of a smirk on the corner of his lips. “Cockiness is not befitting for a brat like you.”
You groaned, biting your tongue to hold back words you knew would come across as disrespectful. You didn’t see what you did to deserve a punishment, but you huffed as Levi strolled away, yelling at Eren about something. Probably about his smirk when he watched you fall on your ass.
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Turns out your punishment was anything but, instead a much rougher fucking left your body nearly in shambles. This became a routine, instead of traveling outside to stare at the stars and lose yourself in your thoughts, Levi’s body became your comfort, your relief. He felt the same, pouring his loneliness into your willing body as he claimed you night after night, week after week.
He’d tell you sometimes in the afterglow of your orgasms that this was strengthening the squad, this was for the betterment of the scouts. Because what better way was there to build trust? You’d listen half heartedly, knowing this was all an excuse to rationalize why you continued seeking each other’s comfort.
Levi was soon fiercely protective of you, and you unconsciously him. This was reinforced after the 57th expedition failed horribly, the faces of your deceased squad members haunting your dreams every night. Levi would hold you as you sobbed through the nightmares. It hurt, so fucking much. Levi would whisper to you that you just had to keep moving forward. You would nod your head and listen. Your captain knew best, and you were finding it harder every passing day to pretend that he didn’t.
You didn’t try to make sense of your relationship, just letting it exist. Some days you’d push him away, others you’d pull the ravenette closer to your body. Caught between wanting to leave the man you’d realized you’d fallen in love with, or go into hiding away from the military with Levi and marry the son of a bitch. You liked to think he felt the same, his words few, but his acts spoke volumes of his feelings.
And when you laid limp on the battlefield, titan corpses steaming around you, your breaths shallow as your tired body began to prepare to shut down, you smiled. Everything all at once came flooding to you as you stared up at the sky, completely alone.
You blinked at the clouds, painted so pretty in pinks and oranges at the setting sun. You could hear your name being screamed somewhere in the distance, the voice vaguely familiar. You felt relief wash over you as the large open wound on your stomach gushed an unbelievable amount of blood. Full of shock, your adrenaline keeping your pain at bay, you thought humorously that you had no idea you had that much blood running through your body.
Raven hair and charcoal eyes entered your hazy vision, and you kept that smile on your face. Your fingers reached up, reaching Levi’s soaking cheek, not being able to tell if it was because of blood, or tears. You smoothed your thumb under his eye, and you were being lifted. You couldn’t hear his words, only the dullness of sound as the world continued to slow around you.
You stared at the clouds, completely at peace. You had conquered your biggest fear, growing close to another, just to lose them. Images of Levi flashes before your eyes, his stoic expression, his commanding leadership, his sensual caresses, his passionate kisses as he poured all of his feelings out for you. You loved him, you realized. You were so happy that you got to experience this in this lifetime.
The colors of the sky blurred together, and you could feel the wind whisk around you as Levi shot off on his odm gear. You were finally flying in the clouds.
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LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.
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theglitterypages · 3 years
Note
Please could you write 40+41+42 for Levi?
40.“You’re telling me what’s going on now. Because I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
41.. “Stop saying I’m fine when you’re not.” He gripped my shoulders. “It’s fine to say I’m not fine.”
42.“You weren’t planning to tell me at all, were you?”
Title: What Kind of Monster You Think I am?
Pairings: Levi x fem! Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1000+
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•••
You've been feeling sick for weeks and it's bothering you already.
You decided to talk to Hanji about what you're feeling then and after that you made it clear for her that you wouldn't want your boyfriend to know about the symptoms you've been feeling as of now.
Levi wouldn't be able to focus in his work if he'll worry about your health, you wouldn't want that. “Keep this a secret Hanji, I'm begging you.” you begged Hanji with tears in your eyes and the latter just nod with a comforting smile as she held your hand.
“Of course I would shut my mouth but I think you forgot how smart Levi is.”
You closed your eyes and massaged your temples, you knew that she's right but as you suddenly felt that sensation on your stomach once again, you immediately covered your mouth using your hands and ran as fast as you could, so you could reach the toilets and vomit everything you ate that morning.
Hanji immediately followed, caressing your back comfortingly as she held your hair back, “Damn...why does it always have to be every morning?” Hanji looked at you worriedly and she tried helping you up as she guided you towards the sink so you could wash your mouth and face.
“I think you should consult a doctor.”
••••
You tapped your fingers on your lap nervously while the doctor is sitting across from you as she smile at you genuinely but that smile wasn't enough to calm your nerves down.
She's been doing that for some minutes telling you everything's gonna be fine but everything wouldn't be fine if she won't speak of the results of your consultation.
“Dr. Ross tell me what is my disease.”
The doctor laughed and you narrowed your eyes at her, nothing seems funny to you, especially now that there's a possibility that you might leave Levi in this world because of your illness.
“Let me tell you the symptoms of the disease that we're talking about Miss L/N.” she pushed her glasses up her nose and stared down at her notebook, you nodded at her and she started repeating the symptoms that you told her. “Nausea or vomiting in every morning, swelling of breasts, sensitivity to touch, frequent urination and tiredness. Is this all Miss?” you nodded and gulped as you tried calming yourself down.
Your heart is beating so fast while the Doctor is silent as she smiled at you, honestly, you're thinking that she's smiling because it's a sign that you're dying.
But when she put down her notebook and opened her mouth to talk, you froze on your seat while tears formed at the corner of your eyes.
••••
“Oi Jean.”
Jean immediately looked back upon hearing his Captain's voice as he stood straight. He was currently feeding the horses and he had no idea why Levi would call him right now.
“Have you seen Captain YN?”
Jean shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his nape as he awkwardly smiled at his captain. “She just arrived with Hanji-san but I don't know where she is now.” Levi frowned for a moment before walking passed the younger cadet, his gray eyes wandering around, looking for his beloved girlfriend.
At the end, Levi's feet brought her in front of her room. He knocked for three times, not saying anything.
You were silently crying, you still don't know what to feel about what the doctor has told you and you know it wouldn't be long until Levi notices everything that's going on.
His reactions scares you the most so you chose to lock yourself up in the room and hide from him because you don't know how to tell him.
When you heard three consecutive knocks on your door, you immediately wiped away your tears and stood up. Maybe it is Hanji, she's so worried about you when you told her your situation but you said that you'll be fine, for now, but maybe she got too worried and decided to check up on you.
But when you opened the door you realized that you made a big mistake.
“Are you crying?”
Panick immediately filled Levi's heart as he saw your swollen eyes, he stepped inside the room quickly and held your face, wiping the remaining tears away using his thumb.
“I'm just tired, Levi.” You told him after removing his hands off your face, his mouth gaped open, no matter how tired you are you never did this to him, you'd always let him stay with you but right now he could tell that something's wrong.
He sighed and pulled you close to his chest, “I'll let you rest if I know that you're telling the truth but love, this isn't about you being tired. You're telling me what's going on now because I'm not leaving anytime soon.” you bit your lower lip and gently pushed him away, you looked up and meet his dull gray eyes, your heart rate sped up as he took a step forward.
You stepped backwards and sat on your bed while Levi stood in front of you, still confused of what was going on.
“I'm fine Levi, just go.”
“Stop saying I’m fine when you’re not.” He gripped your shoulders. “It’s fine to say ‘I’m not fine’.” he made you face him and your healt melted the second you saw him smile at you, “You know how much I love you, right Levi?” you removed his hand on your shoulders and held it tightly before you leaned up to kiss him quickly.
Levi stared at you for a moment, worry was written all over his face, “You're scaring me...” he breathed out.
“Oh Levi, you have no idea how scared I am right now.”
“Then tell me, tell me what's scaring you. I can't understand why...why it feels like you've changed towards me these past few weeks...” Levi was not a fool not to notice how he would always wake up without you by his side and how he would find you laughing with the cadets instead of being with him.
He wasn't a jealous person, he was never jealous but he saw how you've never changed towards anyone while you've changed when it comes to him.
He did his best not to do the things you wouldn't like, he knew how you can be jealous of Petra so he would only talk to her if it's important, he didn't mind it. He knew how you love sitting on his lap as he works and he let you do that even if it's slowing down his works.
And he also did his best not to scold the brats too much in front of you and he's always been by your side every expedition because he knew you get worried about him a lot and you want him to be placed somewhere where you could see him.
He wanted to give you his all because he doesn't want you to leave. But right now it feels like he's slowly losing you and he has no idea why.
Just like when he was young...
Kenny left him without a word despite of his efforts to learn everything he taught him, he did his best to impress him but at the end, Kenny left him to fend for himself.
Your eyes widened as you realized that Levi is getting the wrong idea, you raked your hands through his raven hair and smiled at him. “I trust you that's why I would say this Levi. If you...if you'd change after this, I would gladly let you go.” you told him quietly as you stared into his gray eyes.
With a deep breath you prepared yourself to say the words.
“I'm pregnant with your child Levi.”
Silence.
It was all you've got and as you looked at Levi's eyes you see nothing. You removed your hands on his hair and looked down at your lap.
“If you don't want the child, I will be fine. I can...I can support the child and I wouldn't get rid of my child even if it means you would leave me.”
That sentence made Levi snapped out of his thoughts even if he's barely able to absorb the information he heard.
“You think I wouldn't want my child? What kind of monster you think I am?” he asked, clearly offended that you think that he'll abandon you because of this pregnancy. His mother chose to gave birth to him despite of her situations, Levi knew how he was never expected to came in his mother's life but Levi knew how his mother fought for him so he could live.
“It's not what you think, I just thought...you wouldn't want to have a child with me and this is unexpected for both of us...with all these chaos I don't think you'd—”
“So you weren’t planning to tell me at all, were you? You'll just avoid me is that it?”
You looked down, confirming that his assumptions are right, Levi closed his eyes and held your hands before kissing it gently and when he opened his eyes he smiled at you sweetly.
It was a smile you've never seen before, it was much sweeter than the smiles he've given you before.
“I love you and I want you to know I will never want any woman to bear my child other than you.”
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bokettochild · 3 years
Note
Hey Ketto, I'm not sure if you are taking any requests rn, but I've had a rough time of it recently and if it's no bother or hassle, could I request a fic where Time gets comforted by Warriors? Something with cuddles and hair petting, and Time getting to be held. Only if it's no bother. - Nick @thesacredtwink
Of course, Nick!
Sorry I didn't see this until just recently, but I whipped up something for you as soon as I could. I hope it helps, luv, and if you want more please do not hesitate to ask!
Time has been acting strange since the last switch.
At first, none of them questioned it, after all, leaving the ranch made them all a bit down, Time especially however, their leader usually sprung back to himself within a few days of travel time, going back to making jokes that made the others groan and offering advice and aid to their younger heroes. This time however, Time had only gotten worse, the shadows under his eyes growing nightly, the older hero falling silent and stern and very nearly snappish with the others. Only this evening, Warriors had seen Time lose his temper with Wind when the kid had been bubbling around him all day, and while the sailor took the scolding and tired ‘you’re just too much, Wind’ like a soldier, Wars had seen how the kid had retreated to Twilight and Legend during dinner, clinging to the both of them with misty eyes and keeping himself strangely silent while Time brooded on the other side of the fire.
The captain sighed to himself. If his boys were having trouble getting along, not just adjusting to being on the road again, then it was his place as a father (brother?) to step up and see what the problem was. After all, Time would tear himself up about this later, so he needed to nip it in the bud now before the man did something that would make the following guilt later even worse.
Time was seated on the far edge of camp that evening, and unlike most nights on the road, the man had left his sword in its sheath, himself still clad in his armor as the others shed their excess layers, and a blue ocarina was cradled in his hands, eyes distant and brows pulled low as he stared off into the forest. Not brooding then, sulking, and he wasn’t quite sure if that was better or worse in the moment.
“Room for one more?”
Time’s blue eye flickered to him for a moment with a dark scowl, the man shaking his head tiredly and pulling himself up.
Oh shoot, a royal sulk! Time was usually fine to let someone sit next to him, even when he was brooding, but if it was so bad that he didn’t even want anyone nearby? Oh goddesses, Warriors had his work cut out for him.
Dinner that night was a cold affair, the younger ones trying to prompt Wind into anything resembling conversation as Legend poked the sailor’s side, and the older ones exchanging worried glances as they looked from their sulking leader to each other. Usually, someone would break the stillness with a joke or a tease, but Legend’s snark only made things worse when Time shot the vet a look after he had made a jab at Warriors, and while the captain appreciated the defense of his honor, it was reminding him much too much of the war when Time had been a gremlin ready to wreak havoc on anyone at the nearest hint of insult to his father-figure. And while he rather doubted that Time could pants Legend (no pants, and their leader hopefully knew better now that he was older) it was an uncomfortable reminder of the kid’s worse days when nothing could get through to him and Warriors had to be very careful to hide his flask where the kid wouldn’t find it.
When arranging watches, Time had just grunted and moved to the edges of camp and Warriors found himself wincing.
“I’ll take second watch.” He told the others. “Time’s claimed first- don't ask, that’s what that huff usually means. Wind, you’re on Twilight duty, make sure the rancher doesn’t wander off again this evening, alright?” That earned a smile from the kid however hesitant, and while Twilight looked mildly offended, Warriors mentally blessed the rancher for not protesting the comment.
“Yessir, Cap’n.” Wind offered a sharp little salute, and he couldn’t help but reach over and ruffle the kid’s hair as his chest had swelled with pride. They’d worked on that salute a thousand times and now it was as clipped and smooth as any officer’s, even better than many of his men. Maybe he should have the sailor give his soldiers a few tips he chuckled to himself as the others sorted out watches; Legend taking the one directly after his and Hyrule the one after. Wild was on morning cooking duty, so the kid was ordered to rest for the night to avoid any sort of unfortunate mishaps. Usually, it wasn’t a problem to let the wild Champion take final watch, but if his plans (of course he had plans, did you doubt him?) were going to work out, the kid would need to be well rested to prepare the breakfast he’d asked for in the morning.
Knowing glances were shot his way by the others, Sky and Twilight both clapping his back and Legend tugging his scarf with an impish smirk as the others headed to bed, silent wishes of good luck ringing clear across the camp as he was left alone with their leader while the others settled in for bed.
He waited until the sun had set properly and the snoring of the others had begun rumbling around the camp, Twilight’s throaty snorts and Wind’s rumbling ones mixing with Four and Legend’s more soft snuffling ones. Hyrule and Wild lay silent and curled up, each snuggled into one side of the cuddle pile that had formed with Wind in the center, the sailor clinging to Twilight and Legend both in his sleep and dooming them to be smushed in by the other heroes. Sky, at the head of the pile, drooled slightly in his sleep, apparently uncaring that the others were using him as a pillow, and with one hand lost in Twilight’s dark hair. It made him smile as he took them in, pulling himself up to go and ensure they were all tucked in warmly before he turned his attention to the brooding warrior on the edge of their camp.
Time was still fiddling with his ocarina, eyes downcast and almost misty as the older man sat on the edge of camp, and he had to stop for a moment to collect himself before confronting him; Time looked miserable.
“Guilt hitting you yet for yelling at Wind?” He drawled, coming to sit next to the other and carefully arranging his scarf where time could grab it if needed. The man was no longer a child, but even so the blue fabric was a comfort to most of their odd little family, and scoldings or long talks were always made easier when it was available to hide under.
“A bit.”
“If it helps, he knows you didn’t mean it.”
Time slumped in place. “I still said it. Wind looks up to me now, I-” The other cut off with a sigh, tired eyes and weary heart both dimming as he watched.
“Right then, what’s eating you?” At Time’s startled expression he offered a knowing frown. “I helped raise you, Sap, I know when you’re taring yourself up over something and I’d half to be as blind as you to not tell when somethings hurting you. So, what is it?”
Royal blue blinked slowly, a match for his own and so terribly distant as Time turned back to the forest, thumbs trailing over the smooth porcelain of the ocarina. “I’m worried.”
“For?”
“For Malon.” Oh shit. “She wasn’t feeling too good when we left and-” Time’s face twisted up, eye glimmering as the man stared up at the stars, pain twisting his expression and straining his voice as one hand had wound into the prepared scarf. “I’m not there. Talon’s getting on in years and if something happens when we’re gone-” Time’s voice hitched, not quite a sob but broken all the same, and like a trigger was hit Warriors was already pulling the other man into his arms, holding tight as Time’s shoulders shuddered under his grasp. “I’m worried, Pops.” Came the broken whisper. “What if-”
“Shhhh.” Like a million times before his hands were running through short blonde hair. It had been ages since he’d trimmed either of his boys and Time was getting shaggy again, something he was grateful for. Running his hands through the kid’s hair had always helped him calm, and it seemed to still be effective even ow, Time melting further into his embrace as he hummed softly, rocking ever so slightly in place. “Malon’s a strong woman, she’ll be fine. People get sick all the time, Sapling, this isn’t anything to fuss over.”
“She couldn’t get out of bed the other morning.” Time breathed against his chest, the ocarina falling to the ground as both of the man’s hands had wound into the blue scarf instead.
Warriors tried to steady the stutter of his heart as he clutched the other a but tighter. “Is that so?”
“She’s been awful nauseas too.” Time choked out. “Wars, I-”
“Has she had random dizzy spells and weird cravings? Maybe gets sickened at the mere idea of certain foods but also likes eating things that even a pig would turn away from?” Oh, goddesses let this be right.
Time’s blue eye stared up at him curiously. “Y-yeah, how’d-”
The captain choked back a snort. “She’ll be fine, Time. Ladies get that way sometimes. My own beloved was that way for a while too, it passes in time, and there's few ill effects.”
“What ill effects?” Time shifted uneasily, pulling away to stare at him better.
“Exhaustion mostly, some pain, and loss of sleep, but,” He tilted his head with a knowing grin. “It’s well worth it in the end when she’s okay again. You’ll want to talk to her about it next time we get there,” if the bulge of Malon’s stomach didn’t give her away first. “But she’ll be alright.” Time stared at him in disbelief, brows pulling together in a doubtful frown that had him huffing in mock offence. “Wat, you don’t believe me?”
“Battlefield experience as a medic-”
Wars cut Time off with a snort. “Battlefield nothing! I was fighting my loves illness before the war even started. It’s not something that catches, I’ll have you know, and as long as she takes it easy, something I trust Malon knows as well as the next woman, she’ll be fine.” He reached over to tig Time’s ears making the other shy away with a strained laugh, only earning a hair ruffle “Stop fussing, Sapling, your lady love will live just fine.”
Time actually outed at him for a moment, something which quite frankly looked ridiculous on the man’s face and made him bust up laughing as the other flopped against him. Absently, his hands drifted back into Time’s shaggy hair, humming softly as Time continued to lay in silence, eyes staring up at the stars and ears twitching slowly.
“Tomorrow,” He tugged one flickering ear pointedly. “You need to apologize to Wind.”
“Trust me, I intend to.”
“Good.” He grinned, flopping his scarf across the other’s face. “But for now, rest, kiddo, you’re a right grouch when you're tired and I don’t mind pulling double shift for a night.”
“I’m-”
“Not fine, and not staying up. Past your bed-time squirt.” He tugged the ear again, earning a soft growl from his adult kid as Time shifted.
“I’m still in my armor.”
“Then change.”
Time pulled himself up with a huff, shucking his armor and letting Wars help him with the buckles and belts before the both of them settled down again. Tomorrow night, the leader’s metal shell would need cleaning, but for now, he’d let himself out to be seen and held, head nestled in Warriors’ lap as the captain played with his hair.
Time’s breathes evened out to join the cacophony of rumbling snores of the others. Warriors smiled, ruffling his son’s hair fondly and turning his eyes towards the moon.
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taephilia · 4 years
Text
runaway
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pairing: kim taehyung x fem!reader (feat. best friend jung hoseok)
genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, royalty au, enemies to something more? au
word count: 1,788
warnings: mentions of blood and murder, betrayal, alcohol consumption, profanity
a/n: for @heartsforbtsnet’s valentine’s day secret admirer’s event! this is dedicated to @pjmsdior​ because i’m her secret admirer hehe. sorry it’s so short, bella, but i’m slowly working on the original fic that i had planned for you so hopefully that’ll be out soon. i really loved talking to you and i’ll definitely be dropping by your inbox more often!! hope you enjoy!!
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“Dear, at least try to look like you’re having fun,” your mother chastises you, poking at your back to get you to stand up straight. “This ball is for you, you know.”
“To announce my engagement to that buffoon of a prince,” you mutter while subtly rolling your eyes. They land on said buffoon who is currently chatting up a group of female courtiers, all of them in dresses that don’t leave much to the imagination paired with smiles and body language that suggest something a bit more sinister. The prince eats all of this up of course, giving them his most charismatic smile before it disappears behind the rim of the wine glass held delicately between his slender fingers.
For as long as you’ve known Taehyung, he has always had that same smile on his face, knowing that it will get him anything he wants and out of any sort of trouble he seems to have found himself in. On more than one occasion, you’ve seen him drink almost 3 days away, a third of his castle’s cellar demolished because of him. He’s missed out on council meetings, celebrations, royal announcements, appearances, and everything in between and nobody bats an eye. To them, His Royal Highness Kim Taehyung is the picture perfect prince. But you know better. You know that underneath that facade, underneath the mask and the costume that he puts on every day and night, you know just how cruel Taehyung can be. The scars on your best friend’s back and the feelings of powerlessness that you have to push down every single time you see him are a constant reminder.
Your eyes roam over to Hoseok who is standing with his back against the wall, eyes scanning over the entire ballroom until they meet yours. The hand gripping the handle of his sword relaxes before being raised up to wave at you. Beside him, his captain smacks him lightly on his side while shaking his head and even though you’re far away, you can practically hear Captain Namjoon’s quiet scolding to your best friend about not letting his guard down. Hobi nods along to whatever his captain is saying but you know that he isn’t listening since he’s heard the lecture from him practically every time the two of you are in the same room.
“How about a dance, love,” someone calls out to you and you look away to find none other than your soon-to-be-announced fiancé standing before you. His hand is stretched out towards you and although Taehyung looks like the picture of chivalry, the smirk on his face and teasing light in his eyes suggest otherwise. 
Your mother all but shoves you towards him and you have to fight the scowl that threatens to appear on your face the second you get within a foot of the prince. You place your hand in his and allow him to lead you to the dance floor, the slower song that was being played ending and giving way to a more lively waltz. Your other hand goes to his shoulder while his goes to your hip. As you begin dancing, you push his hand up to your waist with a pointed look while Taehyung just gives you an innocent smile.
“What?” he asks, head tilting a bit to the side. “Can’t get a little handsy with my fiancée? Or are you worried that your little boyfriend’s going to have a fit over there?”
Your eyebrows draw together at that. “Boyfriend?” you repeat. “What are you talking about?”
“That knight standing at the wall over there,” Taehyung replies, chin jutting out in the direction of Hoseok. “What’s his name? Hongjoong? You were practically eye fucking him before I asked you to dance.”
At that, your arms almost drop and your feet almost stop carrying you but Taehyung’s grip on you tightens and he practically drags you around like a ragdoll in the middle of the dance floor. “We were not-! Hoseok is my best friend,” you sputter out, looking at him incredulously while he just smiles down at you.
Taehyung shrugs without a word and spins you around, but when he turns you to face him once more, he’s no longer there. In fact, there’s no one around you at all. You stand alone on the dance floor, a single spotlight on you, and the sight in front of you makes your blood freeze in your veins. Your mother has thrown her body over your father’s, blood covering her dress while she screams and begs for him to wake up. Beside her, Taehyung’s father looks out at the dance floor with fear in his eyes as they meet yours. You’re torn between running up there and running away, but even if you were to make a decision, you don’t think your feet would be able to move anyways. So you’re stuck watching in horror as Hoseok steps out of the shadows from behind your parents with his face hardened and a look in his eyes that’s unfamiliar to you. 
The blood rushing in your ears is so loud that you can barely make out what he’s saying and even though you’re alone, there’s someone crying near you, Hoseok’s voice much quieter compared to theirs. The tremble in his voice matches the trembling of his hand as he draws his sword and faces the queen. “We no longer see the royal family as fit to rule our kingdom. We, the citizens, cannot stand to see you merging our beloved home with theirs, which many of us have escaped from during the war. You took us into your home, we swore loyalty to you, and now you expect me to forget the horrors I saw in the Hangsang kingdom?”
You hear a whimper and it’s only then that you realize it’s you that’s crying. You don’t fail to notice that Hoseok said “me” instead of “we”. Regardless of who suggested this coup, Hoseok has made it personal. His captain steps out of the shadows from behind Taehyung’s father and together they raise their swords and cut down both your mother and Taehyung’s father. A scream leaves your lips as you watch their bodies drop and a voice whispers in your ear, “Run.”
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You’re gasping for air and you can feel your body shaking when you open your eyes but when you see Taehyung above you, you realize that he’s the one shaking you. “Finally,” he sighs as he stops, his hands lingering. “I was worried someone was going to come in here with you screaming bloody murder like that.”
When you sit up, it takes you a moment to realize where you are. Taehyung moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands leaving you, and you almost reach out to stop him as the chill in the air quickly settles over you. The room of the inn is small, housing only a bed that’s definitely too small for two people to sleep on and a dirty mirror hanging beside the door. What little of your belongings that you and Taehyung could bring or buy along the way are shoved in a corner and even with the full moon out tonight, the soot and grime covering the windows blocks out most of its light. When you look over at Taehyung, the bags under his eyes are most notable along with the stubble on his face. You’ve only been on the run for about a month now but you know that you look just as haggard and worn down as he does.
“Was it the same dream?” the prince asks, voice soft as he rubs at the scratchy fabric of the blanket between his fingers.
You rest your chin on one of your knees and wrap your arms around your legs. You’re still shaken and can’t even bring yourself to look him in the eye. “Isn’t it always?”
The two of you sit there in silence for a bit before you let out a huff and drag yourself out of the bed, taking the blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders. “I’m going outside for a bit.”
You know that you should stay inside, it’s safer especially with the amount of drunks that are probably still lingering in the inn’s tavern, but the silence is starting to feel a bit suffocating. No one pays you any notice as you walk down the stairs and out the door, the street quiet save for the occasional passerby. Leaning against the wall, you take a deep breath and allow the memories of the past few weeks to wash over you. It’s still hard for you to accept and you catch yourself having to do this more often than you’d like.
My best friend murdered my parents and my in-laws. Scenes of blood and swinging swords flash through your mind and you quickly shake your head. You don’t want to see that.
I’m on the run with the crown prince of Hangsang because people are trying to kill us. The weight of Taehyung’s hand in yours is something you’ve become all too familiar with, his long legs and fast stride always able to get the two of you out of whatever sort of trouble finds you nowadays. And out of everything that’s happened, from almost getting killed to stealing from markets, you think you’re most worried about the fact that you find comfort in Taehyung’s warmth now. You aren’t supposed to feel like this. He isn’t supposed to make your heart beat just a tiny bit faster whenever he smiles at you.
Taehyung isn’t as bad as I thought he-
“Come back to bed.”
Soft fingers trailing down your forearm bring you out of your thoughts and you know that the person standing beside you can’t be anyone other than the prince. Just as you have begrudgingly found comfort in him, he has also found solace in you. You don’t recoil when you feel his hand grip yours ever so gently, allowing him to do what he wants while he looks at you and you look up at the moon.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” you mumble. Your eyes don’t leave the sky but you squeeze his hand, letting him know that he has your attention all the same. “I’ve stared at the moon for my entire life, ever since I was a little girl, but it feels different now. Everything feels different now.”
“The moon has always been beautiful,” is all Taehyung says. And that’s enough—enough to draw your attention to him, enough to follow him back to your shared room, and enough to let him sleep beside you tonight, if just for this one night. 
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wienerbarnes · 4 years
Text
Much Ado About Nothing (3/6)
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Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 2,357
Warnings: enemies to lovers, au series, some DRAMAAAAAA
A/N: this chapter is where it gets JUICYYYYY YALLLLLL
MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST
“I’ll go on and check out the situation in Italy after the wedding.” Sam says, talking with Steve, Bucky, and Tony about talk of an underground HYDRA facility. Guess I spoke too soon about a break, Bucky thinks.
“I’ll go with you.” Steve promises him, aligned with the promises of a Captain and leader.
“Please, I’m not taking you away from your new marriage and wife like that. I’ll take Bucky with me, he’s single and Cupid seems like he’ll be staying away from him for a while.” Sam teases.
The three men await Bucky’s response; his usual wit, his banter with Sam, an insult, a comeback. But nothing comes. Only a dismissive hum as Bucky doesn’t meet any of their eyes.
“Should… Should I repeat myself? Did I not stick the execution?” Sam asks.
“I’ve… changed over the last couple days.” Bucky starts, unsure of how to approach his feelings, especially to his close friends, two of which are already in committed relationships with their feelings already figured out.
“You know, you do seem more serious. You shaved your beard and everything.” Tony agrees.
���I hope he’s in love.” Steve wishes aloud.
“Oh c’mon. There’s no love in this guy’s heart.” Sam disagrees.
“I think he’s in love.” Steve continues.
“The clean shaven look really makes you look younger, Barnes.” Tony compliments, both him and the Captain ignoring Sam’s logic in the situation and choosing their own thoughts to pay attention to.
“Yeah, c’mon, Sam, when has Bucky ever shaved his beard?” Steve points out.
“Alright, alright, enough. Tony… Can I talk to you about something?” Bucky asks, and Tony nods his head, motioning for the two of them to talk elsewhere.
As they walk away, heading for another part of the building, Sam and Steve excitingly face each other.
“Do you think he’s going to go talk to him about Techie?” Sam asks.
“I hope so; Bucky’s one of the hardest guys to read.”
Their brief conversation is interrupted when someone else enters the room. Sam turns to greet his brother as John sends the two of them a polite smile.
“Hey, Sam.” John greets him as Sam throws an enthusiastic arm around his shoulder.
“What’s up, Johnny?”
“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.” John begins.
“In private?”
“Well, Captain Rogers can stay, as it kind of concerns him, too.” He explains, and Steve cocks his head in confusion.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Steve asks.
“Are you still planning on getting married tomorrow?” John asks him, and Sam answers, growing suspicious of his younger brother’s behavior.
“You know that he is.” Sam tells him.
“Well, I don’t know if he is after he finds out what I know,” John argues.
“Spit it out, John.” Steve commands.
John pauses and Steve urges him on, “If there’s any reason you think I shouldn’t get married, then you should tell me.”
“She’s unfaithful.” He finally spits out.
“Who, Sharon?” Steve asks.
“Yes.”
“Is that possible?” Steve turns to Sam, asking his best friend to tell him that his brother is lying.
“No, it’s not. John, where the hell did you get that stupid idea?” Sam scolds him.
“I saw it with my own eyes, man, I’m telling you. If you don’t believe me, meet me in the lab tonight, and I’ll show you all the proof you need.”
“This is stupid.” Sam repeats.
“Okay, okay. I’ll meet you in the lab and if I see something tonight, I’ll talk to Sharon tomorrow, before the wedding.” Steve compromises.
“You’re seriously having doubts?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Sam, what reason would your kid brother have to lie to me about this?” Steve defends.
Seeing as his work here is done, John slips out of the room. The seed has been planted. He’d been thinking of ways to sabotage the wedding, just to spice things up in the tower a bit. He thought about childish pranks, like loosening some of the chairs in the ballroom, or sneaking into the kitchen to put laxatives in the food. Maybe hiring a stranger to object, or setting off the sprinklers in the middle of the event. The possibilities are endless.
But he soon realized that none of these things would actually ruin the wedding. Seeing the way these people act around each other, they’d make a show of whatever problems arise, celebrating them even more. John doesn’t want that.
He needed to think deeper. He needed to cause a problem at the root: their relationship. So, he discussed with some other interns on the team who also share his disdain for the Avengers.
Leila and Kennedy Gordon are the ones that agreed to his plan. A married couple themselves, but the difference is that they value professionalism in the workplace, just as John does. It’s time that the Avengers are humbled and realize they don’t stand at the center of the universe, and that the world doesn't revolve around them.
The couple will be staged in one of the spare rooms of the tower; one of the spare rooms whose window is visible from a spot in the lab stations. John is lucky that Leila fits the build and stature of Sharon Carter, same hair style and length, too. In the dark of the night, their silhouettes will simulate Steve’s beloved fiancée caught in an interesting predicament with another man.
If John succeeds, the wedding will surely be canceled, finally serving the much-needed reminder that the Avengers are not as invincible as they think they are.
Tony and Bucky stroll silently through the open lot of the hangar. Tony knows Bucky’s about to unload on him about all his undecided feelings, but decides to let him come out with it on his own. It has been about seven minutes of silence, though, and Tony’s started to feel uncomfortable.
“When did you know you loved Pepper? I mean, you guys have been together for so long now, and have known each other even longer.” Bucky finally asks, not looking at him.
“Well, I’ve always loved her, it was just a matter of me realizing it for myself. Same with her, I suppose.”
“Yeah, but, what made you… know? Like what happened that made you realize?”
“Barnes, there’s no big red arrow pointing out the exact moment. It just happens.”
“Ugh, but that doesn’t help me, Tony!” Bucky stops, rubbing a hand over face, becoming frustrated.
“Well, maybe if you told me a little about what’s going on instead of asking me these impossibly complex questions with impossibly complex answers, I could help you better.”
“I take it, you think you love someone?” Tony asks.
Bucky finally meets his eyes in a silent answer. He rolls his eyes, though, when Tony starts grinning like an idiot.
“Tony, stop.”
“C’mon, Mister-Sworn-to-Celibacy has finally found himself a girl and you expect me to not make fun of him?”
“Okay, definitely not sworn to celibacy -”
“Doesn’t matter. Who is it?”
“What?”
“What do you mean what? Tell me who the girl is.”
“...No. You’ll tell everybody.” Bucky says, immediately seeming to shrink down, shyness crowding his body like a middle schooler talking about his crush.
“So what? You know what, it doesn’t even matter. I already know who it is.” Tony claims.
“What? Who?” Bucky asks. He only figured it out himself a few days ago, how does Tony know?
“The webmonkey in my lab.” Tony tells him, rather than guesses.
How does he know?!
Bucky doesn’t have time to object or tell him otherwise before Tony gives him that shit-eating smile again. Bucky rolls his eyes once more, knowing now that Tony definitely knows.
“How did you even know? Has she told you anything?” Bucky asks now, curious.
“No, she hasn’t. But she doesn’t have to. I have eyes.” Tony says simply.
Sharon and Nat occupy the private tailor in the tower as Sharon tries on her wedding dress, Nat offering different accessories for Sharon to choose from. Bows, lace, diamonds, earrings, bracelets, and of course, the type of garter she will wear on her thigh underneath the dress.
You walk in, with coffee as you’d promised the two other ladies, and they greet you.
“What’s got you all giddy?” Sharon asks, gratefully taking the coffee.
“Yeah, you hate all this lovey-dovey stuff.” Nat agrees.
“What, I can’t be happy for my best friend?” You ask, not ready for an interrogation right now.
“Mhm.” Sharon hums incredulously.
“I think you need some Jameson.”
“Jameson? Is there some kind of double meaning there?” You ask, surprised by her word choice.
Sharon and Nat glance at each before looking back at their friend.
“All I meant was that I think you need a drink. Why, would it have a double meaning?” Nat asks, knowing smile teasing her lips.
“No!” You answer quickly, hoping that the conversation will change. You’re really not ready to talk about all your feelings right now.
“Is there a special James in your life?” Sharon teases.
“No -”
“I think that you think that we think you’re in love. Which we do.” Nat confirms.
“But -”
“You know, Bucky didn’t believe in love just like you did. But he’s changed, and now he’s allowed himself to love someone ungrudgingly. And even though you think you don’t deserve it, I think you should do the same. How we’ll convince you to do that, I have no idea,” Sharon trails off.
There’s a pause of silence as both you and Nat take in Sharon’s serious words.
“I think I really like Bucky. I don’t know about love. But I’m allowing myself to admit that much.” You finally admit in a quiet voice. You don’t meet their eyes, even though you feel their stares. This is probably the most vulnerable you’ve been in front of them.
Even when you’ve gotten out of bad relationships, going to Sharon and Nat for comfort, you never allowed yourself to open up too much. You knew that you’d always heal, always get back up from your internal wounds, and always knew that things would pass. You never whined to them, rarely cried, and for you to admit your honest feelings to them was… a lot.
Sharon and Nat can’t help but celebrate, though.
Girlish squeals are heard among your annoyed groans as they crowd you, enveloping you in a hug, the poofs of Sharon’s dress nearly suffocating you.
You suppose you’d rather suffocate via lace than love, though.
It’s late at night when Sam and Steve go to meet John in a private station in the lab. Sam advised against it at all costs, knowing his brother can be a troublemaker and knowing Steve is incredibly gullible.
“So, you said Sharon was seeing a friend tonight, right?” John asks, setting up the situation for tonight.
“Yes, she said she was going downtown to see a friend who wouldn’t be making it to the wedding.” Steve confirms.
John begins his speal; how he heard Sharon telling an agent that she was instead going to meet with one of the other recruits tonight, as a final affair before her wedding. There’s a walkie-talkie hidden in the desk they’re crowded around, an identical one in the room where Leila and Kennedy sit, waiting for the code word to come about for them to put on their performance.
Sam is annoyed. The irritation is radiating off his body, he feels as though if he rolls his eyes any harder, the earth will start spinning backwards. He watches Steve tense up as John relays his story of overheard gossip, and he gets even more angry.
How is Steve going to believe a teenager about this stupid shit? He tries to take a step back, remembering that not everyone knows John as well as he does, knows how he likes to start trouble, knows that this is the kind of stuff he does when he’s bored. He also can’t imagine what it’s like to hear that your fiancée  may be cheating on you. So, he remains silent, letting this go on, knowing there’s no way it can be true.
“I’ve seen them here only twice before, always at nine,” John explains, casually emphasizing the number in order to signal his accomplices.
“Look! There they are, now!”
The three of them look to the window, and the shadows of two people appear. Sam and Steve don’t want to believe it, but the girl looks just like Sharon - same height, same build, same hair; they can even see the silhouette of long nails on her hands, nails Sharon got done earlier that day.
The two bodies clearly begin to embrace each other, heaty kissing and groping visible to the men in the lab. The taller man’s hands slip down to pick the other person up, them wrapping their legs around his body as they continue to kiss.
Steve doesn’t say anything, just walks off back towards the elevators where they came from, and Sam follows quickly behind, refusing to leave his best friend alone.
John struggles to hold in his amused laughs until he hears the elevator doors close. When they do, he quickly reaches for the walkie-talkie inside his desk, telling his associates that they did a job well done.
“I figured it’d be easy to fool those two meatheads, but I didn’t think it’d be that easy.” John admits.
Meanwhile, Sam is trying to stop Steve from having a full blown panic attack in the elevator ride back upstairs.
Steve quickly dials and redials Sharon’s phone, repeating the process every time she doesn’t answer.
“Man, relax -”
“Relax?! You want me to relax?!”
“Okay, bad choice of words -”
“You know what, I’m just going to wait until she gets home. She told me she wouldn’t be home late because tonight's our last night staying together before our wedding night, and when I see her, I’ll confront her.”
“Steve, I think you should -”
Steve ignores him and stomps out of the elevator as soon as the doors open, leaving Sam alone in the elevator to linger in his out frustration.
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ariel-seagull-wings · 3 years
Text
TOP 12 CINDERELLA PORTRAYALS
@superkingofpriderock​ @metropolitan-mutant-of-ark​ @lachica50​ @sunlit-music​ @princesssarisa​ @mademoiselle-princesse​ @amalthea9​ @captain-dad​ @astrangechoiceoffavourites​ @theancientvaleofsoulmaking​ @anne-white-star​ @littlewomenchannel​ @lieutenant-hel-odinsdottir​ @filmcityworld1​ 
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Rodopis. Ye Xan. Cenerentola. Cendrillon. Aschenputtel.  Aschenbrödel. Zolushka. Cenicienta. Gata Borralheira. Cinderella. The heroine has several names around the world, but all of them experience the same tale: young ladies who are opressed and marginalized by father and stepfamily, but, thanks to their kindness and bravery, receive assistance to rise from the ashes more strong and beautifull, learning to love themselves and eventually finding the love of a prince that will make them happy. The tale is very old, its first writen version dating back to Ancient Egypt, and has been told, retold, writen and rewriten in several different versions, and has been adapted into a variety of media like cartoons, films, radio shows, and comics from around the Globe, wich possibilated anyone to choose their favorite versions. And today, i will share with my favorite portrayal of one of the most iconic fairy tale heroines of all time.
12º Daphne Zuniga in Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child (1995)
This animated fairy tale anthology series produced by HBO camed with the twist of transporting well known european versions of fairy tales to different cultures, like China, Cuba and the Caribbean. In this episode, they adapted Cinderella by setting the story in a Kingdom that had culture and population inspired by Mexico, making it one of the first portrayals of the character as a mexican, wich turns it a very significative work. Cinderella herself could show a bit more range of emotions, because in this portrayal she is at her most passive, her voice is always very sweet and low and she rarely her smile facial expression, but the character design and how she interacts with the colorfull and creative world and characters in the episode still makes it wort checking it out.
11º Aylin Tezel in Sechs auf einen Streich (2011)
Grimm’s Finest Fairy Tales (Sechs auf einen Streich in Germany and Holland) is a live action TV Movie anthology series from Germany made between 2008 and 2019. In 2011, they released their adaptation of Cinderella (Grimm’s Aschenputtel) staring german-turkish actress Aylin Tezel. Tezel brings a sense of playfullness to the role, as well as a sense of altruism in helping the servants in her Stepmother’s house and a wild free spirit that she fights to keep despite the opressive rulling of her Stepmother over her life. She is basically borrowing some elements of the humanity that other actresses before her brought to the role, while making this version of the character her own, wich is not easy feet, and deserves all the praises in the world.
10º Mitsuko Horie/Lara Cody in Grimm’s Fairy Tale Classics (1989)
Another fairy tale anthology series, this time made as a japanese anime that, despite the title, didn’t necessarily limited itself to the tales written by the Grimm Brothers. But in the case of this Cinderella episode, the Grimm’s version is the one they choosed to adapt, excluding the gory element of the sisters cutting their feet. This encarnation of Cinderella is probably the one with the most highlighted innocence, wich could both bring people to love and help her, but also be turned against her by the villains. The moment where this is most explicit is when after returning from the ball, she casually comments with the birds about the tree that gaved her the ball gown to wear, without knowing that the Stepmother is listening, and later her Stepmother not only locks her in the attic, but calls a woodcutter to cut down the tree, leaving poor Cinderella to suffer in deep guilt. It’s not often that a Cinderella adaptation explores the character’s innocence having negative consequences for her, and that is what makes this portrayal of one the most refreshing.
09º Maria Kawamura in Cinderella Monogatari (1996)
The Story of Cinderella (Cinderella Monogatari) is an Italian-Japanese anime television series of 26 episodes, wich were later edited into a two part feature lenght movie. This Cinderella is the 16 year old daughter of a rich Duke who dreams of someday going to live in a castle, having her own horse and many friends. But those dreams start to become remote for her when her father has to make a long travel and her Stepmother and Stepsisters reveal their true faces: Cinderella is taken out of her room, turned into their servant, often receiving hard tasks in short spans of time, and several times is exposed to situations of danger and harm by her Stepmother, like when she is unfairly framed for stealing grapes from the royal vines. Her situation is one of the most vulnerable, and troughout the series we get nervous to see if she will keep being a hopefull teenager, or if the hardships will crush her spirit despite the support that she has from her friends.
08º Ilene Woods in Disney’s Cinderella (1950)
Going from a teenager who has just recently started to experience adversity, to a grown adult who has experienced adversity since childhood. Having lost both of her parents as a child, it becamed more easy for Lady Tremaine to lock Cinderella away from the world and educate her to be an apparently perfect servant who does every domestic shore well, fast and without any sign of complaints. But, when she is alone with her animal friends, is the moment that Cinderella voices her fealings of fear, longing, anger, sadness and tiredness, dreaming of someday becoming free. She also gives them food and handmade clothes, showing how thankfull she is for their friendship, and this inspires the animals, as well as the Fairy Godmother who sees everything, to want to help her. And in her night out at the ball, she shows a natural grace and sweetness that charms people like the Prince to instantly fall in love with her. Basically, an inspirational role model.
07º Gemma Craven in The Slipper and The Rose (1976)
An intersting bridge between Disney’s Cinderella and Cinderella Monogatari. Like Disney’s Cinderella, she is a grown adult orphaned of both parents. Like Cinderella Monogatari, since her father died when she is an adult, her entrapment into servitude is more recent, wich makes clear that she has difficulty with domestic shores and also gives her a more intense will to rebel, to the point that this is one of the few portrayals of Cinderella that says “I hate you” in her Stepmother’s face. And the rebeliousness is well mixed with a very romantic personality that specially shines after she falls in love with the Prince, who is also an idealistic rebel that matches perfectly well with our relatable heroine.
06º Drew Barrymore as Danielle de Barbarac in Ever After: A Cinderella Story (1998)
In american cinema during the 90s, it was growing in popularity the fantasy heroine who was a warrior rebel and an intelectual bookworm. Capitaling in this fenomenon, Ever After: A Cinderella Story, was made, eschewing the magical elements in favour of Pseudo-Historical Fiction retelling.
The story begins when The Brothers Grimm are invited to the home of a French noblewoman who tells them how much she enjoyed their story of Cinderella, but that they got some details wrong. She then proceeds to tell them this story: Danielle de Barbarac  is the beloved only child of the widowed Auguste de Barbarac and his late wife, Nicole de Lancret. When she is eight years old, he remarries the Baroness Rodmilla de Ghent (Anjelica Huston), and brings her home along with her two daughters, spoiled and cruel Marguerite and gentle but weak-willed Jacqueline. Shortly thereafter, he dies, leaving Danielle to the care of her stepmother, who already resents the love that he displays to his daughter (especially as he calls for her over his wife in his final moments), and the estate's three devoted servants - the housemaids, Paulette and Louise, and the retainer, Louise's husband Maurice. The movie skips ahead ten years, to when Danielle is eighteen. Their estate has fallen onto hard times and things keep "disappearing," to the anger of the Baroness. Danielle has, of course, become a virtual house slave to the family, but takes comfort in the familial love she shares with the servants and the kindness she receives from Jacqueline. One morning, she is gathering apples in the estate's orchard when she spies someone stealing the horse of her late father. Enraged, she chucks apples at him, ultimately causing him to fall. It turns out to be the Crown Prince of France, running away from a father who wants to marry him off. To buy her silence, he gives her a great amount of gold. Danielle and the Prince meet again when Danielle, disguised as a courtier and using her mother's name, goes to the castle to rescue Maurice, whom the Baroness had sold into slavery to pay off some of her debt. The Prince is intrigued by "Nicole's" beliefs and courage, and asks to meet her again. A courtship ensues, in which Danielle keeps trying to tell Henry that she is really not a countess and the Baroness gets increasingly suspicious of Danielle's odd appearances and disappearances. The King and Queen, desperate to marry their son off, are delighted that he has found a girl... but are keen to meet her, something Danielle wishes to avoid. Meanwhile, Leonardo da Vinci, who has been invited to court, befriends both Danielle and Henry and everything seems to be going along well, save for Danielle's growing anxiety about maintaining the masquerade.
Barrymore’s Danielle channels the idealism and dreaminess of the Cinderella character trough her love of books, specially Thomas Moore’s Utopia, and also expands the rebeliousness brought by her predecessours by being writen as skillfull in swordfight, making her able to save herself and the ones she loves in more than one ocasion, wich was a very new take. At least for american audiences in the 90s, anyway, but we will get there later...
05º Brandy Norwood in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella (1997)
When i was kid i watched mainly three film versions of Cinderella: the 1950 Disney animated film, Ever After: A Cinderella Story, and this TV Movie production of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical released by the Disney Channel. It was one the first examples of a diverse, colorblind period fairy tale production i remember seeing, and it was an important mark for me ever since.
As played by pop singer and actress Brandy Norwood, this encarnation of Cinderella is a courteous, gentle young woman who is nevertheless unafraid to speak her mind, ocasionally making snarky comments as a way to cope with her stepfamily’s abuse. But she is still shown to need some boosting in confidence by her Fairy Godmother, who teaches Cinderella to see the valour and beauty in herself, and never stoping asking for the impossible.
04º  Lesley Ann Warren in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella (1965)
Whereas Brandy Norwood’s Cinderella would more easily find a way to confront others who mistreated her and become a confident person, Lesley Ann Warren’s Cinderella was a more shy and frightened person, who had to take a more slow path into becoming confident and take her chance of happiness. Because of that, the viewer has the more intense feeling that when she goes to the ball in the beautifull magic gown, she is a more glamorous and happy person, different from the meek and sad lady who usually hides around the fireplace. This was Warren’s first starring role, and we must commend her for portraying two faces of the same character in her debut as a leading lady.
03º Jennifer Beals in Fairy Tale Theater (1985)
The most simple, straightforward adaptation of Charles Perrault’s Cinderella ever made, and the simplicity is its greatest strenght. That strenght is personified in Jennifer Beals’s performance as the title character. This Cinderella is the quintessential no nonsense girl next door, who even tough finding herself in a situation of unimpowerment, always refuses to accept the absurd injustice of her exploitation as a servant, speaking her mind clearly to her stepfamily. This make all the more satisfatory when she receives the visit of her Fairy Godmother, and is reward with the deserved rich and happy life that she was loosing hope of ever receiving.
02º Libuše Šafránková in Three Wishes for Cinderella (1973)
This czech film is one of the first cinematic portrayals of Cinderella as a wild, adventurous, free spirited trickster character, who with the help of three wish granting magic nuts, can go outside and woo her beloved Prince. She enjoys horse riding, trowing snow balls, and hunting, as well as wearing pretty dresses to dance at balls. A highlight is when she cleverly hides her face with a veil to avoid being recognized by her stepfamily, and teases the Prince with riddles about who she is. You can see that she oppened the door for portrayals like Barrymore’s and Tenzel’s.
And my number one is the version that opened the door for her and many others...
01º Leslie Caron in The Glass Slipper (1955)
In this ballet-movie, french-american ballerina and actress Leslie Caron portrays Ella, a girl who not only is abused by her stepfamily, but also ostracized by the people in her village due to constantly apearing covered in ashes and not being traditionally beautifull with her short hair and big teeth. Because of that, Ella grows into a lonely, awkward and agressive person, whose only refuge is the prophecy of a fortune teller who told that someday she would live in the beautifull Palace of the Duke, and the daydreams in wich she imagine herself as a gracious ballerina. One day, Ella meets two people: Mrs Toquet, an old lady who everyone calls crazy, and a young man who presents himself as son of the Palace’s Cook, but is secretly the Duke’s son, Prince Charles. Those two are the first people who treat Ella with kindness, and because of that, she slowly blooms into a more merry person, who learns to love herself and accept the love of others.
This adaptation is very influential, being one of the first where the heroine’s birth name is Ella (wich would be later used in Ella Enchanted and Disney’s Cinderella 2015), one of the first that makes the supernatural elements more subtle (paving the way for Ever After’s complet schewing of them), one of the first that portrays a more angry and rebellious Cinderella (paving the way for Three Wishes for Cinderella, The Slipper and The Rose, Fairy Tale Theater, Ever After and Aylin Tezel’s 2011 Cinderella) and one of the first to make her meet and fall in love with the Prince before the ball, without knowing his true identity (paving the way for Three Wishes for Cinderella, Ever After , Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella 1997 production and Aylin Tezel’s 2011 Cinderella). 
And because of how awkward and agressive Ella acts in her everyday life, her ballet daydreams and the transformation in the mysteryous “belle of the ball” feels more radical, like two different faces of the same coin, thanks to Leslie Caron’s full of range performance. For being the version that brought the raw humanity to Cinderella, influencing several portrayals ever since, is the reason that Leslie Caron is my number one favorite portrayal of Cinderella.
Honorable Mentions: Kim Crosby in Into the Woods (1987), The Triplets (1998).
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kaalogii · 4 years
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— needle and thread (yami sukehiro x reader x damnatio kira)
one crushes you like his cigarettes as the other, strangely, has the kinder heart.
warnings: slight angst
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Soft fingertips glided delicately along rough stone walls. The owner paced their steps through the halls as they listened intently to the stories being echoed throughout. Their presence generously acknowledged by those who came across them, though their response had been a pained smile. 
“Pardon me for disrupting your stroll, but Chairman Kira has requested your presence in the garden,” A servant of House Kira had suddenly informed Y/N, breaking them out of their thoughts. 
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be on my way,” Y/N moved their occupied hand to their side, missing the rough texture as they ventured to the garden to accompany Damnatio Kira. They maneuvered through the castle walls with ease, once again lost within their own thoughts. 
Y/N had lost count of the days or ...could it have been months? Whichever it may have been, Y/N wasn’t exactly time focused, nor bothered to be. All that had been important to Y/N was fulfilling their duties in the Clover Kingdom. House Kira had been kind enough to offer their home as a stepping stone for peace to the eldest child of a neighboring kingdom. 
If only Y/N had remained obedient and loyal to their royal duties, their mind would be free from pressing personal issues. Though, Y/N had been granted free will from their own kingdom and the Clover Kingdom, they wished they hadn’t strayed afar from the nobles. Then perhaps they wouldn’t have met Yami Sukehiro. 
Their meeting had purely been an accident. Though Yami had convinced it to be fate. Y/N had strayed away from their escort in the beginning of their stay in the Clover Kingdom due to their natural curiosity of the kingdom they’ve learned of in their youth. Yami had once again been on the search for his wild animals and took a sudden interest to the strange individual that peacefully stumbled upon his, secretly, beloved pets. 
It had been at that point on where their many secret rendezvous’ had begun. Y/N had been new to the idea of love, unsure of what it truly holds. Young and naive, Y/N blindly stepped into the abyss, only holding onto the strand of thread Yami allowed. 
“You look troubled” Damnatio Kira’s voice broke Y/N from their thoughts. They weakly smiled as Damnatio stood from his seat to pull theirs. As Y/N got comfortably seated, Damnatio returned to his own, silently eyeing Y/N. “Are you unhappy here?”
“No,” Y/N had been honest as they reached for their teacup to take a much needed drink. Damnatio had hummed in response, taking a drink of his own. The pleasant combination of gentle waterfall and the chirping of birds had comfortably drowned the silence between them. 
“I summoned you here out of the servants concerns,” Damnatio returned his teacup to the table, catching Y/N’s attention. “Normally I wouldn’t be bothered with quizzical issues being brought to my attention. Especially from servants, but the mention of your name had resulted in the exception,” Y/N placed her teacup onto the table, bringing her hands to her lap. “Our duty is to keep you comfortable and safe, for the sake of our kingdoms,” 
“Yes, I understand,”
“The members of my family had left your care in my hands at the beginning of this arrangement. I concluded you to be a responsible adult and let the rumors of your rendezvous with foreign scum to be a temporary phase. Though it seems as though it is not the case. Am I correct?” 
Y/N fumbled with their fingers, averting their gaze from Damnatio’s fierce one. They took notice of the difference in angered expressions they received from Damnatio to Yami’s. Though Yami had only directed anger toward Y/N on the many occasions of Y/N expressing their love for the man. Y/N continued to do so, concluding that anger had been Yami’s choice to express his feelings for the individual. 
“I love him,” Y/N softly blurted loud enough for Damnatio to hear. 
“You love him?” Damnatio had been amused. “Absolute beauty of royal blood loving foreign scum? A disgrace. That isn’t even the worst of it, correct? I’ll answer for you.” Y/N returned their gaze onto Damnatio, focusing onto green eyes. “Surely you’ve heard the rumors. Even I have heard them all. Yami Sukehiro does not love you,” Y/N flinched. 
Damnatio’s words pierced Y/N’s heart although they knew his words had been true. The rumors had begun as soon as Yami and Y/N had their first interaction. They, themselves, had been warned by the members of Yami’s squad to be wary of their captain’s true intentions. Their words and warnings hadn’t been enough, for Y/N had been too far down in the abyss to think otherwise. 
“Now that one subject is out of the way,” Y/N listened to Damnatio as his tone changed. “It appears our families have been working with one another, which I assume we would both agree to be excellent progress in terms of our kingdoms,” Y/N hummed in agreement. “Both sides have agreed to take a step to complete the alliance between our kingdoms by proposing the idea of marriage between you and I,” 
“Marriage?” Y/N searched for any indication that Damnatio’s words were false, finding none they awaited for him to continue. 
“I agree that this is sudden, but I did not dismiss the proposal when it was presented to me. I believe this is a good opportunity for us. I understand you may feel opposed to the idea, but I ask you to carefully think over the proposal,” Damnatio studied Y/N, expecting an outburst but received none. 
“A word of advice,” Damnatio continued. “Don’t allow your naivety to control your emotions. I assume you are smarter than you currently present yourself to be and you are willing to listen to information presented in these rumors you hear about regarding your unfortunate situation with Yami Sukehiro,” Damnatio watched as Y/N tensed. “If you’re looking for love and if you consider the proposal given to us by our kingdoms, I will devout myself in learning to love you as you deserve,” 
Y/N had risen from their seat. “I am grateful for your concern. If you could excuse me for a moment, I have much to think about,”
Damnatio nodded, silently watching as Y/N disappeared from his eyesight. 
The sudden situation had added onto the troubles Y/N had been dealing with in their inner monologue. As they battled the concerns, they were unaware of the location their legs had been leading them to. 
Deep down, Y/N had known the “love” Yami Sukehiro had shown them was nothing more than filling the void for his own loneliness. Along the way, Y/N had mistaken his words and actions for something deeper than what they had been. Yami had twisted their perception to the newfound idea of love into what he decided for them to believe. As a result, Y/N had blindly given everything to the man in every form; emotionally and physically. To the outside, and to Yami’s knowledge, Y/N had been another pet of his he held onto with a simple piece of thread. At anytime, Yami could break the connection, but for reasons unknown, he never had. 
A theory the servants had on the situation had been the idea of Yami Sukehiro using Y/N as a ploy for revenge on Damnatio regarding previous events involving the Black Bulls. The silly theory of the servants of House Kira had actually been correct, unbeknownst to them and others whose ears had the rumor fallen onto them. 
Y/N had been brought out from their thoughts as they sighted the door belonging to the hideout of the Black Bulls. The door had mysteriously opened by itself, from Y/N view as they stepped into the hideout. Although appearing that way, Y/N missed the sight of the member called Henry, who solemnly looked down in pity from his room at Y/N. 
Oddly familiar sounds echoed through the hideout, though Y/N couldn’t place the familiarity of the sounds. Deciding not to think further of it, they continued through the halls as they used the sounds as guidance until reaching the familiar door of Yami’s room. Y/N heart sank at the realization of the familiarity. Their actions moving ahead of their mind as they gently opened the door to come into view of the lewd sight of Yami and his fellow Clover Kingdom captain, Charlotte Roselei. Quickly, Y/N closed the door and made their way in returning to the Kira House. 
Hours had passed after the initial event and Yami had remained clueless to what had occurred outside of his walls. He groaned as he awoken from his slumber, dismissing the weight present beside him. Charlotte’s arms wrapped around Yami’s bare frame as he attempted to remove himself from his bed. Before he could perform further action in getting away from his minuscule hookup, a message from the Wizard King had arrived for Yami. The message played presenting an overjoyed Julius. 
“Weddings are lovely this time of year, but before weddings come engagements! I am honored to present the news in regarding the unity of two kingdoms as we solidify our alliance by joining two members of the highest seats from each of our kingdoms. With great honor, I announce the engagement of Damnatio Kira of House Kira and Y/N L/N of House L/N. I wish the couple a happy engagement and a promising marriage! That is all, good day!”
Yami settled into his bed, welcoming Charlotte’s sleeping embrace contrasting his previous attempts to get away from the woman. He reached onto his table, retrieving a single cigarette and his lighter. Yami took an elongated drag of his cigarette before exhaling. The smoke from his exhale had hidden the lone tear gliding down his face. He chuckled to himself before taking another long drag.
“I don’t give a damn.” 
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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years
Text
QUARANTINE
Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x MALE!READER
Words: 2.140
Warnings: fluff
A/N: @slowkib - here you go :) I hope you like it. Thanks for this request
A/N II: This is a loosely sequel to MESSAGES. So, if you wanna know how these two have met, you can catch up on it but it's not necessary :)
Synopsis: Yn got hit by a virus what means he and Nyx have to be quarantined. But Nyx finds a way to 'sweeten' the time for YN to recover quickly.
Nyx and YN were dating for a few months and so, YN’s sister was determined to meet the man who had stolen her brother’s heart like a thief with the promise to never give it back. She stayed over the weekend. Two whole days, all three had a lot of fun together. YN was happy to see how good Nyx and his sister got along and all too fast, the time was over again and YN’s sister had to go back home.
While Nyx cleaned up a few plates and glasses, he looked at YN who had a content smile on his lips even if he seemed to be a bit pale, “Your sister is nice. I like her.”
“I'm happy to hear that because she already loves you. She threatened me to treat you right or else she would ... Well… trust me, I wouldn't have a good life anymore.”, YN said and coughed softly.
Nyx blinked several times, staring at YN, disbelieving that his boyfriend, a skilled fighter and great soldier of the royal Kingsglaive, would be intimidated by his sister who was two heads shorter than he was, "You... She can threaten you? I mean, for real?", Nyx asked amused.
"Always had, always will. She might be younger and smaller than me but she can be a beast if she wants.", YN answered with a grin, remembering what kind of troublemaker she had been in their childhood.
"Good to know.", Nyx said grinning.
"Don't you dare to-", but YN stopped as a coughing attack prevented him from speaking further.
Concerned, Nyx laid his hand on YN’s shoulder, checking on him as he became even paler, "Are you alright?"
YN just waved with his hand, "Yeah, yeah", he said hoarsely, slapping against his chest, "I just choked on something.", he whispered.
But the next day, YN laid in bed, coughing violently and fighting with the full aftermath of the virus that held Insomnia in its iron grip for a few months. Obviously, without knowing it, YN's sister had been infected and now, he was the one with all the symptoms: fever, fatigue, muscle aches, headache, sore throat and nausea saying, the whole package.
While caring as best as he could for a suffering YN, Nyx did what the citizens were encouraged to do: he called a doctor, YN got tested and the result was clear: positive.
Nyx was tested negative but still, because they lived together, they had to be both quarantined for two weeks. As the next step, Nyx had to inform their Captain. Drautos wasn't pleased about the information that two of his men were out of service because of some ‘common cold’. As the Captain asked why they had to be both in quarantine, Nyx saw himself forced to tell the truth and revealed the relationship he had with YN. But, somehow, Nyx got the impression that the relationship itself wasn't the biggest problem rather the fact that the Captain had been completely unaware about it during the last months.
But because the Captain still wanted to have the upper hand like always, he sent Nyx and YN a big pile of documents and paperwork that got postponed because of the last battles. Nyx wasn't pleased about the boring 'office' work but as long as he and YN were quarantined, there was no way Nyx could say anything against it … or run away from it to fight a small, cozy fight against some demons which he would prefer more in this moment.
Luckily, YN recovered quickly and so, after one week, he was almost the old one. Almost. He was still a bit tired, was coughing and needed to rest but at least, he was fit enough to help Nyx a little bit with the paperwork. Especially, YN did it to prevent a raging war inside their apartment. While YN had been forced to stay in bed, he already had heard Nyx cursing while working.
First YN thought Nyx was just annoyed about the work itself but then, one afternoon as they sat together to work through the piles of documents, YN realized that Nyx wasn't just 'annoyed' rather, he was frustrated and even kinda aggressive.
"This stupid thing!", Nyx called out while pressing keys randomly on his PC.
YN raised his glance questioningly from his own PC and papers to look at the hero, who obviously got defeated by a bunch of wires and circuit pressed into a plastic case, "Everything's good over there?" he asked, grinning as Nyx slammed his whole hand on all keys he could find at the same time.
"Sure! Fuc- it works pretty wonderful!", he hissed through gritted teeth. Once again, Nyx pressed a bunch of keys he had no idea of their functions. As the PC finally just gave up and shutted down, Nyx leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with closed eyes while sighing deeply, completely defeated.
YN tried his hardest to keep the grin out of his face but it wasn't working. Nyx heard the muffled sound of suppressed laughter and the moment he looked slowly up, his beloved boyfriend burst out with laughter. Even tears of joy were running down his cheeks.
Nyx gritted his teeth, "Good to see that you’re feeling better again. At least one of us has fun here.", he said annoyedly, standing up from the chair to look out of the window to become calmer again. It was cold, raining and all in all not the worst weather to be forced to stay inside.
YN felt guilty for laughing. He hurried over to Nyx and from behind, he snaked his arms around Nyx' waist, pressing a soft kiss on the outer rim of Nyx' ear, one of his weak spots, "Come on. Don't be like that. I didn't mean to laugh at you. It was just ... you fight against demons and whatsoever and then, you get defeated by a PC? Seriously?", YN chuckled.
Nyx scoffed, "I tell you, this thing has a will on its own. And it's mocking me. Besides, we're Glaives. We fight. We don't do 'paperwork'.", he said, quoting the Captain's words in a silly voice.
"So, what? You wanna disobey and ignore the Captain's order? Again?", YN asked amused, knowing how rebellious Nyx could be from time to time.
Nyx grinned, turning around in YN's arms and lying his own around his neck, glad that YN already had some color back in his face, "What shall he do? We're in quarantine. We're not allowed to leave this place or to invite someone in ... at all.", he said with a low voice.
YN raised an eyebrow, knowing this kind of mischievous glance already from the hero, "You have something in mind then?"
"Oh, yes. Indeed, I have.", Nyx nodded with a grin.
Ten minutes later, Nyx had collected everything he needed while YN just had watched him, sitting in an armchair. Nyx had prohibited him to do anything else than just waiting because even if YN felt better he was still stricken. On the other hand, Nyx wanted to have his idea as a small surprise. So, he collected all the pillows and blankets he could find and threw them into the living room which was quickly turned upside down. Nyx took some chairs, arranged them with the couch and had built something that represented a cozy fort. The couch was the fort's backrest. Chairs left and right were holding up the blankets while the carpet was covered with pillows and bed covers to make it even more comfy. As Nyx was done, he stepped next to YN, lying an arm around his shoulders, "What do you say?"
"That looks pretty perfect. You have done that before, don't you?", YN asked and looked up. There was already a melancholic smile on Nyx' lips.
"Yeah, I did this often with Selena. Mostly, when she was feeling sad or when she was sick. Then, I built one of these, stole some ice cream and cookies from the kitchen and then, we hid there the whole day. We were talking or watching TV until we fell asleep.", Nyx remembered, pulling YN closer to his side before he pressed a soft kiss on his boyfriend's crown while inhaling his scent to feed the painful memories with sweet new fuel to make them comfortable again.
YN enjoyed the affection with closed eyes, "So, you stole ice cream, huh?", he asked softly to light Nyx' mood up again. He was happy that it worked as he heard him chuckling.
"Well, stealing would mean no one knew about it. I'm sure our mother knew it. I mean, back then, as a kid, I felt pretty smart but now, I know that someone had to buy the things, so I'm sure she knew when we would build our little cave and prepared the sweets for us."
YN frowned. Everything was perfect except the fact that they had no sweets in the kitchen, "Shall we order-", but he got stopped as someone knocked at the door.
"Not necessary. I already took care of that, too.", Nyx said with a grin and went to the front door, opened it and came back with a paper bag full of stuff Crowe had brought after Nyx had texted her.
"What's that?", YN asked curiously, closing up on Nyx.
"Everything we need to get you back on track.", Nyx said grinning.
"But I'm already feeling better.", YN argued half-heartedly as he saw the colorful labels of the bag's contents.
"Yes, but 'better' is still not completely recovered. So, here, the ice cream will help you with your sore throat. Cookies are great in warm milk with honey to fight against the temperature of your fever. And the chocolate will just make you happy.", Nyx listed while pointing at the different items.
"And the gummi bears? Are they for my running nose?", YN asked chuckling, pulling out the bag of sweets.
Nyx snatched it out of YN's hand, "Oh, these are for me. At last, I need something to throw at you when you say stupid things again. Gummi bears for a running nose... never heard such a silly thing.", Nyx mumbled while rolling with his eyes and bringing the bag in the kitchen.
YN laughed, took his laptop and crawled into the pillow fort to get comfortable already while waiting for Nyx to come back.
Ten minutes later, Nyx appeared with a tablet which was laden with bowls full of ice cream, sweets and two mugs with warm milk. YN received the tablet, placing it in the middle. Nyx crawled next to YN's side before he closed the door made out of a blanket to enclose them with coziness. Pressing on a switch, a chain of light went on which was installed around the chair and illuminated the fort in a soft warm, romantically light. Nyx leant against the couch with his back, raised his arm to give YN the space to cuddle against him, using Nyx' upper body as a pillow.
YN was just about to start the movie he had picked out on Netflix as Nyx got a call on the headset he had still in his ear out of habit. Cursing under his breath, he answered the call, "Yeah? Hey, Captain. Yes, we're still in quarantine. One more week, that’s correct, Sir. Yes, he's feeling better but he's still not recovered completely. He still has to rest.", Nyx answered the Captain's questions. To underline Nyx' statement, YN coughed slightly.
Nyx had difficulties to keep the amusement out of his voice and nudged YN's side in revenge because the coughing was so badly acted, "What did you say, Sir? Oh, yeah, the paperwork. We're working on it. Yes, at this very moment, we're sitting in the living room and looking at the screen. Yes, Sir. Alright. Good da- huh, he hung up already.", Nyx said with a smirk, taking the headset out of his ear to lay it aside where he wouldn't notice it at all for the rest of the day.
"You lied to the Captain.", YN stated with a smirk.
Nyx looked him in the eyes while shaking his head, "No, I said the truth. We're in the living room, looking at some screen. The paperwork can wait. First, I want to make sure that you're fit again.", he breathed before he kissed YN softly, "And now, we should hurry with the ice cream or we will have just soup left."
"You could put some gummi bears into it to keep the consistency- hey!", YN called out as a gummi bear hit his hand.
"I warned you.", Nyx said grinning before YN cuddled back against Nyx' side, the best place in the world to recover from whatever virus there might ever be.
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lizardrosen · 4 years
Text
National Theater Live King Lear
Hello, here is a ridiculously long review of this production! I just had a lot of feelings and thoughts!
Setting/Staging/Mood
I really loved the sound design for this one. It’s hard to describe, but the chords gave it a real presence and sense of motion. It was vaguely reminiscent of horror movie music in the way the chords lingered and didn’t blend in seamlessly, but I wouldn’t call it horror music exactly. The BELL tolling while Lear zips up his folder was such a good first image and bit of sound. And there were drinking songs, which I always love to see in a play. Put that Epic Theater technique straight in my mouth!
The circle in the middle that’s red in the first half and white in the second was a really creative detail, and the actors used that space effectively, especially with overlapping exits and entrances to make it feel that scenes happened in different locations while still being thematically connected.
The opulence and ceremony of the  first scene gradually gives way to the more sparse and modern staging of act five — formal military dress to fatigues
I love how Lear raises his hand in prayer and command, compelling everyone else to follow suit to show their devotion and allegiance (and is there a difference between their king and their gods in this world?) even when they’re unsure about whether he’s right to be so cruel to Cordelia.
The recurring imagery of money changing hands really fits in well with the theme of love as currency that’s already in the text!
The single tree in the background of act five gave me Waiting For Godot vibes, which works SO WELL with the absurdism and nihilism of Lear.
Thoughts about specific characters under the cut!
Edgar! My SON!!
Luke Thompson is the reason I’ve wanted so badly to watch this production; ever since I saw his standout performance as Laertes in the 2017 Almeida Theater production, and found out he’s also played Orestes and Edgar, I’ve just been rabid about it!
It’s neat to see him actually at the ceremony of the first scene, with Edmund already Literally in his shadow.
He’s a little less hapless and distracted than most of the Edgars I’ve seen, a little more watchful. In 1.2 he’s actually pushing back against Edmund’s insistence that he’s in danger, and then in 2.1 there’s a long moment of just Looking at Edmund’s knife before he flees.
Similarly, his decision to become Poor Tom felt a bit more calculated. It’s not that he isn’t scared and lost and desperate, because he definitely is, but the plan itself doesn’t seem to grow out of that feeling as much as he (sort of) calmly looked at his options.
Of course, he doesn’t stay calm; that agonized scream when he actually cuts himself, and later on when he sees his father blinded and screams “World, world, o world!” really feels like he’s letting something out, and more than usual he seems to have been holding this part of himself back for a long time.
The counterpart to that is the self that does the watching — it’s a part of all Edgars that makes him a really compelling character, with his self-aware asides, but it’s particularly pronounced here — there’s a moment where he says “Bless thy five wits!” in his normal voice, and then catches himself and has to reassert the role he’s playing for his own safety.
At times he’s very impatient and frustrated while leading Gloucester, but he also cares about him a lot and is so terrified that he’s actually died when he “fell” from the cliff, this poor boy’s entire body is trembling!
He instinctively moves to protect Gloucester from Lear when he gets more violent and unpredictable with “find these son-in-laws and KILL KILL KILL” and it was a good moment
Gives into his own viciousness in the fight with Oswald, and then, Hamlet-like, lugs the guts into the neighbor room.
Edgar doesn’t seem to know if he wants his dad to recognize him or not — he puts Gloucester’s hand on his face, but then as soon as he seems about to realize who he is he very quickly takes it away again and gets them moving
He’s even more desperate and reckless than Edmund in their duel, but then once Edmund is fatally injured, he’s right by his side, holding his hand, helping him through it!
He needs Lear to recognize Kent, he needs Lear to not be dying, he’s so sincere, but then he decides if he can’t save anyone here he can at least help Albany to help the country heal and pledges himself to the future.
Lear
Awful but also very pitiable, more like a human losing his grip and knowing it, than just a Vessel for themes that are echoed in other characters.
Lashes out at himself more than at other people, but he definitely still does both.
“But they shall be the terrors of the earth” is just a man who’s terrified to be losing his words.
He has bad knees and everyone knows it but he keeps trying to kneel, and sometimes it feels like he’s mocking his daughters — look how much I’m suffering for you even though you’re ungrateful — and sometimes it feels like he’s forgotten his own body’s limitations.
Spends a lot of time offering physical comfort to other characters, since he can’t be a dad for his real daughters.
His flower crown scene was Just ophelia, and I think that’s beautiful.
aaaaa, his helpless grief for Cordelia! He moves the noose from her neck to his!! and then he takes out a handgun and threatens everyone away from him, but he’s just so helpless and sad!
Edmund! my other son!
I was a little surprised to see that this actor is James Corrigan, because I recognized him as Roderigo in the RSC Othello, and he’s sort of the anti-Edmund, so I was excited to see the contrast, but honestly there wasn’t as much of a contrast as I expected. He had many of the same cringing appeasing mannerisms, but in a way that makes it clear that he’s aware of his unfair situation in a way his Roderigo really isn’t. Despite being a bastard he has a lot more social power and mobility than Roderigo so he doesn’t seem nearly as pathetic.
Other Edmunds are composed and precise in their soliloquies because this is the one place no one will see them planning things out, and this Edmund is babbling and overwhelmed because this is the one place no one will see him feeling things, because feeling things is dangerous.
He’s so! scared! of his dad! It’s painful to watch, and it’s almost as painful to watch how he’s still looking for approval and respect from Gloucester. Someone save this boy!
He gets in WAY over his head, and it feels like he’s scrambling at every turn, but then at some point he just levels up and strides with confidence, and it’s really good to see.
oh my god, oh my god, he saw everything that happened with Gloucester! After everyone else leaves he comes out from his hiding place looking just devastated. He hated his dad, but he never hated him that much, and by the time he couldn’t stomach it any longer there was no way for him to escape, and then he’s still processing it when he sees that the Fool was also there, and he has to kill him because no one can know he was there. I SCREAMED when this moment happened, it was so good!
WOW, he’s so smooth, it’s no wonder both the sisters want a piece of that! It’s more of a power play with Regan, and a little more courtly with Goneril, and he just knows what each of them want and need from him.
When Lear and Cordelia are captured, Lear says “As if we were God’s spies” and he’s still kingly enough that the soldiers drop to their knees and lift their hands in allegiance, and Edmund has to rush in to make one of them stand up while saying “Take them away” sort of impatiently, and then he immediately checks the order he’s written for their deaths, because he’s just seen how dangerous it is for these two to be kept alive. aaaaa, and then when the captain hesitates, he holds a gun to his temple on “Either say thou’lt do’t, or thrive by other means” !! I love that line and I love the sheer range of deliveries I’ve seen for it!
The wonder in his voice at “Yet Edmund was beloved.” is really good! He’s so desperate to do some good by the end, and I love! Edmund of Gloucester!
Kent
Having Kent played by a woman does some really neat things to the character, not least of which is crossdressing Caius! She sort of feels like she overperforms toxic masculinity to fit into the culture of Lear’s retinue. Other Kents seem to be allowing their latent desires and bluntness to emerge with this role, but this Kent isn’t suited to it, and sometimes she gets a little carried away or makes missteps like beating up Oswald, but she has to see it through, for Lear’s sake.
Kent also doesn’t feel Big In Love with Lear, but she’s definitely devoted to him — and even more than that, she’s devoted to the image of loyalty itself.
Her genuine affection for Cordelia, and pride to see how she’s doing as a queen, is really sweet and good!
After she’s been banished, she rushes out of the throne room as Burgundy and France enter, covering her face like she’s desperately trying to hold back her tears.
She’s with the French soldiers looking for Lear, and is the one who tells him “You shall have anything!”
At the end she’s not exactly surprised that Lear doesn’t connect her with Caius, and she’s not upset (about that part of it anyway, plenty of things in this scene are upsetting), but she’s definitely feeling something.
ahhhh, she picks up Lear’s handgun and sort of cradles it to her side when she prepares for her final journey! sweetheart!
Gloucester
he’s just! a terrible father!! simply the worst!
A lot of the time Gloucester isn’t a very good dad just because he’s friendly and careless and just not paying attention to how he’s treating his sons; this one is actively awful and I actively hate him!!
From the very first scene he’s so scornful and dismissive of Edmund and hitting him for no reason, and then turns around to show off photos of Edgar, and that doesn’t even really benefit Edgar either, because he’s held to an unfair standard he can never live up to.
It really shows in how both of them are touch starved but also extremely cautious about being touched. Someone save them!!
(In fact, in the serial killer Claudius AU, a certain Earl does get himself murdered when Edmund is sixteen)
Not a Bad Dad thing, but not really showing Gloucester in a good light: he does think Lear’s age and reverence should be respected, but his motivation seems to be a lot more based in his indignation that Regan and Cornwall have taken over his home and order him around. For this Gloucester it seemed to be less about feeling sorry for Lear, and more about reasserting his sovereignty.
But because this is Lear I don’t just hate him, and he’s not just a bad father, you also feel for him a lot after he’s been blinded and his legs are just trembling and he’s so scared and lost.
Even after he’s blinded he keeps turning to his photos of Edgar in his wallet, and it’s sad and regretful instead of showing off.
He had a really good cliff fall! He goes up to what he thinks is the edge, and then turns around and braces himself to fall backwards, and then Edgar has to rush to catch him, and lay him gently on the ground, and panic that maybe he’s actually died.
Lear Sisters
No one was prepared for Lear’s announcement and the way each of them responds informs so much of how they act through the rest of the play!
Goneril is startled and unsure and fumbling, and I really felt for her and her “hateful life”, and the way she’s stunned in the wake of Lear’s abuse, but then needs to pull herself together again when he returns. For so much of this play she feels small and adrift, but then she’s so happy for once whenever she’s with Edmund. Albany really does seem to care about her and he’s trying to be good for her, so he takes it when she yells at him, and then stays behind to pray for a bit. He’s a little less nice later on but to be fair she is cheating on him and not bothering to hide it very well.
Regan! With her fake tears and her constant flirtiness, and the way she’s always twirling and showing off! She is a hot mess, and she only gets hotter and messier as the play goes on, but she and Cornwall love each other a lot, and she wants to be suited to torture the way her husband is, but she gets into it by the end of that scene. And then!! her hand on Edmund’s throat! W o w
Cordelia is calm and sure and knows exactly what her sisters are, and in that first scene she comes so close to reaching her father and getting him to change his mind about disowning her. And that carries through to the rest of her performance — she’s competent and precise and loving, and France is smitten with her and listens to her and respects her. When she’s reunited with Lear she wants him to wake up, but also isn’t prepared for it to actually happen, and then she’s so surprised when they say she should be the one to address him first.
Cornwall
I first saw Daniel Rabin as Reynaldo in the Almeida Theater Hamlet (ask me about how Reynaldo and Laertes are half-dating whenever he follows Laertes to France, because I have Opinions), and his Cornwall is SO different
He’s not just manipulative, but violent and enjoying his violence, but he’s also sexy and possessive and commanding, and it’s no wonder Edmund falls for him as hard as he does!
TYING HIS SCARF around Edmund’s hand after he wounds himself for love and validation!? The soft tender look of surprise that Edmund gives him in response!? wow! wow, what a MOMENT!
And then he shoves Edmund into the room after he’s been shown Gloucester’s letter, he has to punish the messenger and assert his position. And after “Thou shalt find a dearer father in my love” Edmund HUGS him, and he’s startled at first but half-returns it (and probably thinking about how he can Use this) (and then cornwall/edmund/regan happens, shhh)
Like Daniel Rabin’s Reynaldo, his Cornwall is very Watchful, just stepping back to observe what’s going on, and then quietly making his judgment before he says anything — and when he does speak he absolutely has the other person’s number.
Good commanding headtilts!
Oh, the laugh right before he uses the hook from the slaughterhouse on Gloucester is just terrifying and compelling, and he’s so turned on by this. Good for him because then he gets to die, and he’s so disgusted and vicious when saying the first servant should be thrown onto the dunghill.
Miscellaneous Moments
Lear puts his jacket on Edgar, and Kent puts her jacket on Lear, and then he immediately takes it off and puts it around Edgar’s shoulders and ties the arms together, but while he’s trying to take off his shirt too, Edgar’s already getting on the ground and letting the jackets fall off of him. Just! Jackets and touch as a form of affection!!
When Gloucester comes out to find Lear, he and Edgar see each other, and there’s just a moment where they’re frozen, Edgar terrified that his father will recognize him, and Gloucester perhaps feeling there’s something familiar about this madman but having no idea what.
While Gloucester is telling Kent about how he had a son he loved who betrayed him, Lear and Edgar are in the background sharing a long hug that almost feels like a beautiful dance! It was such a striking moment, I loved it sooo much.
the HUG with Edmund and Cornwall!! Not over it, never over it.
when Cornwall tells Edmund to leave with Goneril, he gives Goneril his jacket and she’s just quietly surprised and pleased, and it’s cute, and I want her to be happy!!
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vicarfelix · 4 years
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A Team Matter
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Felix Millstone x Fem. Captain
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 2,036
“This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”
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Her team was like family to her. From the young and youthful Parvati to the auto mechanic SAM, every single one of her crew had a special place in her heart. Truth be told, none of the missions she had been on so far would’ve been possible without their help along the way. The Captain admired their hard work ethic and their loyalty. It was rare for any of them to question her judgement or decision making. Whatever she would do or say, they would be there to back her up. That was truly special to her.
That wasn’t to say that they didn’t bump heads with each other every now and then. That was life in a nutshell. It was impossible to get along all the time. 6 different people and 1 robot...all with completely different personalities. It was inevitable for there to be tension and disagreements at times.
The person who had grinded the Captain’s gears today was none other than the esteemed priest himself. She respected Max a lot. She put a lot of faith into him. He had an interesting backstory that had a couple of holes in it. She knew he had been to prison, spent a huge portion of his life searching for...well, that as the part she never quite understood. He was a trained hacker and served as an important asset to her team. That was why she had no issue with deciding to help him with a favor. She traveled with Max to Fallbrook to find an old scholar friend of his. Although, once she arrived and located him, she discovered that “friend” was not at all the case.
She was able to detect during the conversation that Max had lied to her in order to be sure she’d accept the task of his favor. She did not take kindly to lying, especially when Max knew what the bigger objective at hand was. It was her decision to make whether Max’s request was worth taking the time to do. The fact that he had fibbed in order to manipulate her decision did not make her happy. It infuriated her beyond description.
She scolded Max and expressed her anger for what he had done. He seemed genuinely sorry, acknowledging that he let his own personal feelings get in the way of what was important. She chewed him out royally and even made him cower a little bit. Thankfully, the Captain had brought Parvati along and she was able to fizzle things out before the Captain did something she’d soon regret. She seriously considered firing him on the spot and leaving him behind in Fallbrook. In the end, she decided that wouldn’t be right. She couldn’t leave anybody behind.
Still, she made sure that he knew if he ever pulled anything like that again then he’d be gone. The trek back to The Unreliable was quiet. Not even Parvati dared to say anything to try and ease the mood. Usually, Captain tended to avoid being spotted by raptidons and go around them. However, she had some serious negative energy to burn off and she made it a point to shoot at every single one they passed.
Eventually, Captain entered the ship, closing the door behind her selected crew. ADA greeted them per usual, her voice echoing through the ship. Parvati was quick to climb the stairs to the upper level because she could barely handle the tension anymore. Max knew that the Captain had nothing more to say to him and that she likely didn’t want to see him for the rest of the night. So, he returned to his bunk and called it a day.
She usually would huddle with her crew to wind the evening down and discuss the game plan for the next day, but truthfully she just wanted to be alone for a little bit.
The rest of the crew was upstairs sitting around the kitchen area. They found it odd that Max didn’t stick around to chat, but it all made sense when Parvati explained in a hushed voice.
“I would leave Captain alone until tomorrow if I were y’all,” She advised; “She’s madder than a stuck primal.”
This surely got everybody’s attention, especially Felix’s. He always worried about Captain. Even more so now that they were an item. He knew she could handle herself and anything thrown her way, but he still didn’t like it when she was upset about something. Nyoka, who was standing at the counter, chimed in soon after;
“Why’s that, P? What happened?” She asked for Parvati to elaborate.
Parvati looked to make sure Max wasn’t in the room before continuing;
“Mr. Vicar lied to her and she found out. She hollered at him and I was sure she was going to let him go. She went straight to her quarters when we got back just now.” She said, taking a seat next to Felix.
Ellie let out a low whistle. She was standing at the head of the table, arms crossed and brows raised;
“She always checks in before turning in for the night. That must’ve been some lie to make Captain that upset.” She stated.
Felix was fiddling with the tossball that he always kept in his pocket. The wheels in his head were turning. He knew how Captain felt about traitors, liars, people who abuse their power. She wasn’t a fan when someone told a lie for personal gain, but even Felix knew it was peculiar for her to be this frustrated over it.
“I’ll say. That’s not normal at all.” Felix claimed.
Knowing that there wouldn’t be a team meeting, the rest of the crew scattered into their own rooms just to start the day over tomorrow. Felix, on the other hand, decided to pay her a visit once he knew she had some time to mellow out. He crept quietly downstairs, careful not to wake anybody up who might have been asleep. He could be a bit heavy footed and he had his fair share of being yelled at for activating SAM in the middle of the night. To avoid this, he was sure to remove his shoes to soften his footfalls.
He came to the Captain’s doorway, peeking his head in to see her standing at the long tabletop, leaning against it. He watched intently as her eyes gazed over the planet in front of her, deep in thought. She eventually noticed his stare which prompted him to offer a bright grin.
“Hey, Felix,” She said in a rather monotone voice; “I’m guessing you’re here to check on me.”
He shrugged. She was half-right. He did indeed want to check on her, but he also just wanted to see how her day went. Although, based on what Parvati had said, he was sure it didn’t go so well. He took that as an invitation to enter and approach her. He stood next to her, his hand finding the small of her back;
“I just wanted to see my favorite gal,” He said cheekily; “And to check on you.”
She knew once Felix figured out that something had gone awry that he’d come bopping in to see what was up. Truth was, she was relieved to see him and to have someone who was always willing to listen.
“You know the situation I’m in,” She began; “The situation I’ve dragged all of you into.”
“I think it’s fair to say we brought ourselves into it. You didn’t exactly ask me to be a part of this crew...I asked you for a job.” Felix corrected.
“But I didn’t tell you my mission until after I hired you,” She retorted, moving across from him to sit on the bed; “I’ve been tasked by some crazed scientist for all I know to save the colony. I wasn’t given a lot of instruction other than to take this ship and keep in touch with Phineas. I don’t even know what the endgame is gonna be.”
Felix was listening closely. He turned from the window to face her, leaning back against the table. It was all starting to make sense now. It was simple. She was stressed and the pressure was beginning to get to her. He let her go on;
“I’m the one who’s got to save Halcyon. To be successful, I need our crew to be honest with me and all on the same page. I need to be able to put my trust in this team,” She said; “That’s why I got so upset with Max today. He lied to me to ensure that I would do something that he wanted. It didn’t affect anything too bad, but that was a serious blow to my trust in him.”
Felix understood where she was coming from. He believed that honesty was extremely important, especially with the way things were now. He saw both sides of the coin. He saw her position as a captain with a life changing goal ahead, but he also understood how much finding Reginald meant to Max.
“Max didn’t mean any harm. He understands that he should’ve handled it differently,” He suggested; “The mission wasn’t affected any. We’ve still got time.”
Felix had a point, but she was still irritated. As the captain, she was the one who had to decide what was worth their time. She got to decide what they had time for. She never minded doing something for someone in your beloved crew, but she still had a big mission hanging over her head.
“I know that, Felix, but what’s going to happen when I set us out on a mission that does affect what I’m trying to do here?” She said with your voice having a slight edge to it; “Then the colony’s fate is destroyed just because I thought it was a good idea to let the vicar have a fucking book translated.”
He would admit, he would never want to be in her shoes. That was one hell of a weight to carry alone. He was just fine being a crew-hand. However, she was perfectly able. She had what it took to save Halcyon. She had a badass squad, a family, by her side to help the cause.
“What’s this ‘I’ nonsense I keep hearing? This isn’t your burden anymore. This became a group matter the second you hired the first person of this crew,” He said with a sense of urgency. He couldn’t let her go on any longer thinking this was all on her; “This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”
Her heart was warmed by his words. That was unbelievably comforting. She needed their help, each and every one. She couldn’t do this alone. She knew this. Phineas knew that when he brought her from her 70 year hibernation that she’d be able to find companions to assist you along the way if she wanted it.
“You're saying if I go down with this mission, then you’re going down too?” She asked semi-joking.
He smirked, raising and settling his brows quickly;
“Damn right we will. It’s all or nothing, boss. We’re in this together.” He said moving to join her on the small bed.
“Thanks, Felix. I needed that.” She admitted; “And I thought I told you that you don’t have to call me boss?”
Felix smiled proudly. He knew he could lift her spirits. She was sounding like herself again. He leaned back onto her pillow and stretched out. Looked like he’d be staying the night here. Not that she minded.
“I like calling you boss. Even if you weren’t my captain, you’d still be the boss of this relationship.” He laughed heartily.
She playfully smacked his leg, a little offended at his statement.
“You calling me bossy?” She asked with a giggle.
“Yeah, I am actually,” He confessed; “But I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
She blushed. What a guy. She was thankful that she ran into him that fateful day on Groundbreaker. There’s no way this mission would still be afloat without him and the team she’d built. They’d be by her side no matter what.
For that, she was forever thankful.
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simplyclary · 3 years
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Black Widow: Natasha Romanoff's Solo Adventure
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(Photo credits: Indiewire.com)
The much-awaited and long-delayed solo film of Avenger Natasha Romanoff, played by actress Scarlett Johansson, Black Widow was finally released in theaters in the US as well as on Disney+ for those with Premier Access. As expected, it got fans excited because it has been more than a year when people last went into cinemas and watched a film and the release of this film put a sense of normalcy to the public, especially to the fans of the franchise.
Personally speaking, I am a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and as both a fan and a writer, I loved this movie and it was much needed after a year and a half without MCU movies. Just like any movie, this movie had its flaws and its strengths because nothing is made perfect and flawless but of course there are some things to commend and comment on with regards to this movie.
First of all, the opening credits is different from your typical Marvel movie. It was presented in a way that viewers would forget they are watching a Marvel movie. Secondly, this movie cleared up some questions fans have to the character of Black Widow and why she is the character that she is, which includes the Red Room and the infamous Budapest mission that she and fellow Avenger Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) have been referencing in the past movies. Thirdly, fans got to meet the "family" of Natasha and they get to see the family dynamic that exists between the father figure Alexei (played by Stranger Things actor David Harbour), mother figure Melina (British actress Rachel Weisz), sister figure Yelena (British star Florence Pugh) and Natasha herself. Lastly, the action scenes are well executed and choreographed, nailing the characters' signature stunts and poses. The cinematography, visual effects and music scores are also well executed and fits the tone of the movie just right.
Of course, every movie has its shortcomings and this one is no different. Right off the bat, the biggest shortcoming of the movie was the villain Taskmaster. Every superhero movie needs a villain that is sinister enough to make it worth watching, but this villain fell short and did not live up to the hype of fans. In the comics, Taskmaster had the ability to mimic the fighting skills of his opponent, which included Captain America, Black Panther, Hawkeye and even Black Widow herself. While several scenes were devoted to showing the skills of Taskmaster, fans were just looking for a little more "oomph" to the villain and seeing how Taskmaster was executed in this movie was a disappointment in the books for multiple fans and comic book readers.
Amidst the flaw of this movie having a sort of predictable villain, it is worth remembering that this is also the last movie of the character of Black Widow and it closes out her saga in the MCU as the franchise goes forward to Phase 4. While this movie is the last for Natasha, it is only the beginning for her sister figure Yelena. As unfolded in the post-credits scenes of this movie, Yelena is called on to another mission, which I won't spoil, of course. Watch the movie to find out what it is, but you may expect that this is not the last time fans will see Florence Pugh's character who, amidst only being introduced, has already become a beloved character for the fans.
Personally speaking, this was a breath of fresh air for me because of how much I miss walking into the cinema, hyped to see my favorite heroes fight villains on screen. Amidst watching this film from the comforts of my living room, I still felt like I was watching from a cinema screen, minus the popcorn. I could say this movie had the action of Captain America: The Winter Soldier and the humor of Thor: Ragnarok. While this feeling does not apply to everybody, it felt this way for me. In my ranking of favorite MCU films from best to worst, this film falls into my top 10. I would definitely watch it again to understand more about the complex character of the Black Widow and why she will always be one of my favorite superheroes.
This movie earns a 9/10 from me. :>>
Black Widow is now available with Premier Access on Disney+.
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