#originally it was going to be 'ao3 tags' but

[mayajadewrites]

── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader

summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, smut, fluff, yearning ao3 authors note: there are several things in this story that are not canon to the original AOT storyline (like Levi needing a wheelchair) but I will warn you if/when those things come up.

chapter notes: none! finally get some dialogue with these two. let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!

tag list: @ackerboi, @staarflowerr, @midw1nter, @glads-stuff, @nxcxllxsevens, @qrhttp, @deniixlovezelda, @midnightwriter21, @levislegislation, @huriareads, @levikeigosdearest, @nikanaka

preface - chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

Silently, you walk into the tea shop, passing Levi and avoiding his gaze. The shop looks different than before - more decorations, and employees.

"Falco, Captain Levi said that you can't put that tea out yet! It's special -"

"Hush, brats." Levi spoke as he closed the doors. "Gabi, Falco, we have our first customer."

You narrow your eyes at Levi, then looking at the two kids. Well, at least you assume they're kids. They look old enough.

"Welcome to Kuchel's!" The blonde, Falco, says with a welcoming smile. "What kind of tea can I get you? Or coffee?"

"Tea. Just black tea with milk would be great." You fish your wallet out of your purse, pulling out a bill. You feel Levi's hand push your hand with the money down, shaking his head.

"I can't be a customer if I don't buy the tea." You crane your neck slightly, moving your hand away from his. You hand Falco the money, giving him a slight bow and smile before sitting at a table, waiting for the tea.

As always, Levi's footsteps are silent as he sits at your table, dropping down to the chair as he gives you an icy stare.

"Why didn't you want to service me?" He blurted, causing you surprise. He draped his arm over his chair, looking rather relaxed.

"Levi, not here. Please -" You put your hand up, hoping he'll drop it.

He doesn't.

"No, tell me why. Tell me why you wouldn't let me have you for the night."

You furrow your eyebrows, hoping the kids won't hear what he's saying. Your mouth forms into a frown, speaking softer than before.

"I'm not talking about this with you. Since you didn't answer any of my questions, I'm not answering yours." You look up to see Falco walking towards the table, gently setting the cup of tea in front of you.

"Captain Levi said this is your favorite tea, I hope its -"

"Falco. Leave." If looks could kill, Falco would be dead.

As Gabi and Falco go into the back room of the shop, Levi turns his attention back to you. "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

When you finally, finally look into his eyes, up close like this, it takes everything in you not to say fuck it and kiss this man senseless.

"Fine. Me first then." You take a sip of the tea, nodding in approval. "This tea is delicious, by the way."

"I know." He tapped his finger on the table impatiently. "Ask."

With a sigh, you lean back in the chair and cross your arms over your chest, bracing yourself for his answers. "Why didn't you come back for me?"

As if he was expecting that would be the first question, he immediately answered. "It wasn't safe for you to come back with me. They would've forced you to be a scout, and I couldn't have that -"

"So you didn't even bother to check on me? Say hi?"

"One question per turn." He cleared his throat, mirroring your pose and crossing his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you sleep with me that night?"

A sharp breath left your nostrils as you close your eyes briefly. "It didn't feel right to do that. My job... it's not for pleasure. I do it for money, and if I slept with you for money, it would feel wrong."

"So would you sleep with me for free?"

Your eyes dart over to him, a scowl on your lips. "One question per turn."

You adjust yourself in your seat, taking another sip of your tea. "Why didn't you at least check on me, Levi?"

"I did." He said sharply.

"No you didn't. I never saw you. Don't lie to me -"

"I did check on you. How do you think I knew you would work at a brothel?"

You're... dumbfounded. Stunned.

"B-but I didn't see you."

"That was the whole point. If you saw me, I knew I wouldn't be able to say no to you and would have to bring you back with me. And that would be selfish." He adjusted himself in his seat, clearing his throat. "I also had my cadets check on you too. When you kept moving from town to town, it became more difficult to find you."

He... he looked for you? He had his soldiers look for you?

Your hands balled into a fist, your nails digging into your palm as you look at him. "You saw all the shit I had to go through, and you thought that that would be better than being with you?"

"Yes." His icy gray eyes found yours, holding your gaze for longer than you would have hoped. "I was going on missions, possibly not coming back. I would never forgive myself if you got hurt, or if I had to leave you alone... again."

You let out a sigh, un-balling your fists as you take a deep breath. "It was really that bad?"

"I see that we're not doing the one question per turn rule." He rolls his eyes, tapping his index finger on the table. "It was war. Every mission I lost soldiers. I lost my comrades, and my friends."

"You had friends?"

"Shut it." His eyes were half lidded and narrow as he spoke. "I lost most of my squad. I almost died. Hence..." He pointed to his eye, then his hand.

When you looked down at his hand, you saw how cold he looked. His pale skin underneath the bandages, the way his thumb slightly shakes.

You bring your hands to his, taking it gently as you inspect it, your touch so gentle like he was a fragile flower petal. Then you look at his face, the scars that haven't fully healed, but are on their way.

You press the pad of your thumb to the scar, closing your eyes when you make contact with his skin. Almost as if you could feel all the pain he's been through.

He closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath in as you touched his face. As you lean in closer, your eyes flutter open to look at his skin a bit closer.

"Did you ever find love?" You whisper, your hand almost trembling. "In the scouts, did you?"

Levi's eyes softened ever-so-slightly, leaning into your touch before shaking his head. "No time for love in war."

You roll your eyes, moving back slightly as you place your hand back on the table. "So you were just going to sleep with me? Just like that?"

"I've always wanted my first time to be with you."

You freeze. First time?

Your heartbeat quickened as your breathing got slight sporadic, your eyes darting around his face. "There's no way. You didn't -"

"I'm serious." He looked at you, a piece of his hair in front of his eyes as he sighed, rolling his shoulders back. "Not something I'm necessarily proud of, but -"

You look away from him, a frown on your face as a blush graces your cheeks. "I never thought you would want me after what I've done. The men -"

"Hey." He brings his hand to yours, holding it gently to get your attention. "You're no less of a person because of what you do for work."

You gulp, looking in his eyes before nodding slowly, not moving your hand from his. "I've... never made love before."

"Made love? Yes you have. You -"

"No." You immediately shake your head, moving your hand away from his to take another sip of your tea, which is almost cold at this point. "Making love and having sex are different. When I... do my job, I have no emotion. I'm there for a transaction. But making love... well, I've heard its much better. You and your partner are in sync, emotions are involved, and everything is just better."

Levi nods as he listens, mentally taking notes. "So you've never made love."

"Right."

He nods again.

Then, you nod.

As you mimic him, he gives you the slightest smile. You took a mental picture of the view. His blue-gray eyes, the way the corner of his mouth turned up, his bangs in his face.

"I've missed you." You whisper, leaning in slightly closer to him, leaning over the table as you push your tea cup slightly.

His eyes wander over your face, drinking it in as you lean in closer to him. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You have no idea -" He gently pressed his hand to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. You shudder slightly at the contact, not used to being touched with since gentleness.

As you lean in more, feeling like a magnet to him, the door to the shop swings open.

"Captain Levi! I didn't know today was opening day!" A man with a buzzcut pushes his way through the door, raising an eyebrow at your table. "Captain? Who is -"

Levi gently pushes himself away from you, clearing his throat as he stands up. "Connie, has anyone told you you're too damn loud." His back is now to you, almost shielding you from Connie's curious gaze.

Soon, a handful of other people showed up - presumably members of the scouts since they all addressed Levi as Captain Levi.

You heard the names Jean, Armin, Annie and Mikasa. You take one last sip of the tea before bringing the cup to the counter. The group looked at you, then at Levi.

"If you brats know what's good for you you won't ask me any dumb questions." He nodded at you, taking your cup as he looks at you apologetically.

Gabi and Falco come back out, smiling as they talk to the group of scouts. You wave goodbye to them, then giving Levi a timid wave.

When you leave the shop, you turn around once more to take in the view of the shop-front. The people of Marley started to trickle in, all of them excited for this new tea shop, some of them there just to be in the presence of the amazing Captain Levi Ackerman.

In a sea of people, Levi's only looking at you.

[thewavesofmel]

The Voicemail

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Hello! I have read some Bucky Barnes fanfics over the years and have written some other fanfiction on AO3 myself, but never felt brave enough to write anything like this. So this is my first try writing a Bucky Barnes X Reader fanfic and wrote something today on the spur of the moment and felt brave enough to post it. Depending on how I feel, I may post this on AO3 too. Apologies in advance for any errors!  Additionally, this is my own writing, and I do no consent to it being posted as original content by any other individuals other than myself.

Summary: Bucky gets a voicemail from you after two months of not seeing each other. 

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, Minors DNI. Smut. With some plot. Friends with benefits. Dirty Talk. Mutual Masturbation. Phone sex (kinda). Voicemail. 

************************************************************************

It’s been two months. Two months of texts almost sent and a finger hovering over your name in his contacts. Two months without your voice, your smile…your touch..your kiss…your moans...and your body. Two months without you. The decision was mutual. You both decided it was for the best. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good it was when you both were together. No one made him feel as good as you did. No one knew their way around his body like you did. You knew exactly what made him feel good and how to get him off. You respected his limits and were always eager to try new things. You both have the philosophy of pleasing your lover as much as possible and at least three orgasms before the next round. At first, you both were amazing for each other. You both were each other's confidant and stress relief. You were each other's solace, both when life got hard or when you just needed to feel someone else's body on yours. And somewhere it just all fell apart and got too messy and too intense. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good you feel. He couldn’t help but miss the sound you make when you cum and how sweet you tasted when his tongue was deep inside you.  He went through the motions, he went on missions, spent time with the team, went to his therapist, but the thought of you was constantly in the back of his head. The decision to not speak to each other after the break-up wasn’t agreed on or even said, it just happened. He longed to speak to you. God, he wanted to do so much more than just talk. He wanted to fuck you slow and deep just like you liked. Until you begged him to go faster and deeper making you scream out his name. But if he couldn’t have that, he at least wanted to at least just hear your voice. But at the same time, he didn’t even know what to say. So he just didn’t say anything, it was just easier. He thought you would do the same. Until he was proven wrong. 

That night he just got back to his apartment after a week-long mission. It was tedious and intense. As soon as he got home he just wanted to shower and sleep. And if sleep wouldn’t come, he just wanted to fucking lay down for more than 10 minutes. He pushes his still wet hair out of his face as he walks from the bathroom to the bed in comfortable sweatpants. He plops himself on the bed to lay down and sighs deeply with the urge to just roll over and shut his eyes. He decided to check his phone before he wrestles with his sleep and what he sees makes him sit straight up. 

It’s a voicemail. He must have had his phone on silent, he didn’t even hear it ring. Only a few people would call him at this time of the night, usually for a mission. But it wasn’t any of them, it was you. 

Maybe he shouldn’t listen to it. Maybe not hearing from each other if for the best. But all he could think about was hearing your voice. He couldn’t open the message fast enough and pressed play. 

“Hey, it's me.” your voice starts and his breath catches as he hears you.  

“I wanted to... I don't know, I just wanted to... I shouldn't even be calling you, should I? We hadn’t really said we should stop talking to each other. But it’s just… you know.” you stop to sigh and he sighs in agreement.

“But we did make an agreement to stop seeing each other. And I know we said it wasn't a good idea, but I just... I just can't stop thinking about you” you say softly and he feels his heart start to pound. You missed him too and it felt so good to hear you say it. He almost played that part over just to hear you say it again but he wanted to hear what else you had to say. 

“I just wanted to call you and hear your voice. I miss you. I really do. I miss... I miss talking to you. I miss... being around you. I... I miss your touch. I miss kissing you. God damn it, I miss fucking you. Um... I know that... us being... in the same room is difficult and I think that's why we are avoiding each other but I just….I don't want you to…I want you to be close to me because when you're close to me…fuck, so many things happen.” you breathe out, sounding lost in thought. And he breathes with you, his body starting to react to your words. The same tingle he gets in his body starts to make him heat up and he bites his lip.

“I… I... well... First of all, I get out of breath like how I feel out of breath now. Um, I, uh... My heart starts pumping fast. And, um... My body, it feels tingly. All over. And, um... And... And I start to get... So freaking... wet. Just your voice makes me so wet.” you slightly moan. 

“Fuck baby” he whispers in response and he can’t help but let out a small whimper. His cock grows hard at hearing how wet he makes you and the effect he has on you.

“And I... I don't want to let that go, honestly. The way you touch me and how you caress me. The way you know that I like it when you bite my ear. And you trail your tongue from my chest to my neck. Just the right spots to kiss and bite. And the way you kiss all over my body…. how you touch…the way you know how to touch my breasts…and pinch my nipples just right…and how you look into my eyes when you suck on them… fuck you know how wet that makes me.” you continue on in that same tone you use when his fingers are deep inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. He takes his free hand and starts to rub on his cock through his sweatpants. Hearing that sweet voice filled with need turns him on so much and it’s been so long without you. 

“And fuck… your hands…both of them are perfect…the way your fingers are so…justt so fucking good…. and the way you know to finger me, not too fast, not too slow, but just right…how you curl your fingers right up into my G spot…and rub my clit…makes me cum so hard on those fingers” you whimper. By now he picks up on the rustling and wet sounds along with your words. You are touching yourself while you talk and you aren’t trying to hide it. And by now, he fully has his cock out and can’t help but stroke himself right along with you, desperate to hear more. 

“And then the way that you... damn the way that you fuck me. You know just how to fuck me. Having you inside of me…it feels so fucking good. The way that you start slow, and you keep going…going so deep ... .it's amazing. Mmmm fuck so amazing, fuck baby.” you start to struggle with your words and the sounds of you rubbing and fingering yourself intensify. He fucking loves when you struggle with your words like that when you are feeling good. It spurs him to start to stroke himself faster.  

“Fuck princess, you sound so so fucking good” he moans out as he strokes and continues to listen.

“But then…when I say I need more…you just… fuck…you just pound right into me… so fucking fast and deep…you pound into me so good until I can’t feel my fucking legs… and you fill me up so good… and the way you rub my clit when you pound into my pussy…your moans when you are deep inside of me…and how you tell me what a good girl I am, and tell me how I feel so good, and tell me how close you are and how you want to feel me squeeze your cock as I am about to cum…and then you go even deeper…and fuckkkkkk….baby it makes me cum so fucking hard. I want that…fuck baby, fuck I want you baby I-” you suddenly stop talking cry out his name and as soon as he hears you cry out he cums. He cums hard all over his hand and throws his head back as he moans out your name. He hasn’t cum with you in so long and it feels so fucking good. He takes a moment to catch his breath as he listens to you do the same. 

“I…I miss that so much. I miss you so much. The way you take care of me after….how you lay me on your chest and kiss me gently and... hold me in your arms. I miss that. I…want it back. I know it's a lot and I know that we shouldn't… but fuck… I don't think I can do without it. I miss that. I miss you.” you whisper to him and the message ends. 

He sits and stares at his phone as his body reacts. Reacts to the desire and desperation he hears in your voice. Your need for him. You need him. You want him. And fuck, he wanted you. Before he could realize what he was doing, he was cleaning himself up, putting on a fresh shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket with his black boots. He grabbed his keys, locked up, and was out the door. You wanted him. You needed him. And he wouldn’t keep you waiting a minute longer.  

[djarins-cyare]

I thought it would be harder to pick and then I saw "Be-All And Endor pegging bonus scene" and anyway here I am. 😍

Ahaha, I hoped someone would ask about this one from my WIP folder! 🧡💚

This is set several months after the main story ends. My plan was – and still is (eventually) – to write some random scenes from Din and Reader’s future in lieu of a sequel.

Several readers commented they would’ve liked to have read the scene in the final chapter where Reader tells Din to go shower and meet her in their cabin to cross off another item on their “things that’ll happen eventually” list, which suggests some type of ass play for Din, based on an earlier comment in chapter 37 where he indicates he’d be interested in trying it.

As usual, the smut slowed me down when I started drafting it. Honestly, I don’t think I know enough about pegging to adequately describe it, so I put it on the back burner until I could do sufficient research.

That said, when I got your ask, I went back and checked how much I had already written, and I realised I actually have a decent-length scene leading up to the smut… it just fades to black (again) when they’re about to start.

So, Kate, since it’s you and you definitely deserve a reward for all your cheerleading of Be-All (for which I’m forever grateful), I’ve decided to give you not just a snippet but the whole of the 1k+ word scene that I’ve got so far. I’m not posting it on AO3 yet – I’ll do that later once I’ve written the second half of it and converted the AO3 version into a series – so for now, please enjoy this Tumblr exclusive bonus content!

⚠️ Please note the following contains heavy spoilers for anyone who hasn’t read the original story!

Be-All And Endor Bonus Chapter (excerpt): The Solace

Rating: Mature (18+) Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Word count: 1,150 Tags/warnings: References to sex, anal play, pegging (nothing explicit); brief reference to a past attempted SA; the dildo is referred to as a cock; some swearing and explicit language; one (1) Mando’a insult

You find the toy tucked away in the back of your drawer, hidden from prying eyes for weeks. Even though Din knows you acquired it before leaving Glavis, you’d insisted on keeping it a surprise until you could finally try it out.

But things had got in the way.

His painful Darksaber injury, worse than Nantoogen’s concussive blaster bolt on Endor. His discovery of that mythosaur marker in Kolzoc Alley, faded and ominous. His bitter disappointment at reaching the lowest level of the substrata and finding it empty. The thrill of uncovering hastily painted coordinates that revealed his tribe’s new location.

Just like that, your fun and games were on hold.

In the weeks since, everything that’s happened has overwhelmed you both – physically and emotionally – for better and for worse. The covert, the recognition of your union, your shiny new helmet… Din’s exile.

The Armorer’s final words and your defiant retort still ring tragically in your ears almost a day later, as if your helmet has trapped them there:

“You have not yet sworn the Creed; therefore, you are not an apostate. You may stay.”

“But I have sworn riduurok to Din Djarin and the gai bal manda to Grogu; therefore, I am a wife and mother. I am loyal to my clan and could never abandon them for a tribe that exiles one of its own despite his wish to atone. You taught me that loyalty and solidarity are the Way, and I will honour that. So, I thank you for your offer, but nariti lo’shebs’ul.”

You can still feel the sting of tears on your cheeks, still see Din’s dejected body stiffen as you told his alor to shove her offer up her ass. Amid the grief, you sensed a spike of shock – even pride – flicker within him for a fleeting moment.

Now back in hyperspace’s safe and superluminal embrace, you both need the relief of the release you’re about to partake in. But he needs it more.

He still hasn’t really talked. Not properly – not like you know he can. He’s been barely responsive, stiff, twitchy, and every subtle quiver speaks of his deep turmoil. Apostate. It’s an awful label. His inner storm has been yours to share through your connection, but you’ve resisted. You saw his need for solitude on Anantapar, so you’d granted him several hours alone in the cockpit – helmet on.

After several failed check-ins for food and comfort, it was to this suggestion alone that Din had responded. Once you’d assured him that Grogu was asleep in his cubicle, he’d immediately risen from his chair, awaiting instructions. You’d told him to shower and to meet you in the cabin without his helmet, where you’d unveil your purchase from Glavis.

Now, with a determined breath, you face the final hurdle: figuring out how to attach the damn thing.

You’d liked the look of the ‘strapless’ versions, but the vendor had advised that a strap would be best. More stability and a better experience for your husband, she’d insisted. Fewer distractions for you while it’s his turn, she’d winked. Fair point. You’re not sure you could concentrate solely on his pleasure with something nestled inside your pussy, rubbing your G-spot to distraction.

It takes a few minutes of fiddling, but you successfully secure the harness. It’s actually more comfortable than it looks.

You turn back to the drawer and run your fingers along the dildo’s length, marvelling at the silky texture. It cost a kriffing fortune, so it’d better be worth the credits. A snort escapes you at the thought that Nantoogen’s bounty reward paid for this. It’s almost poetic that the man who tried to sexually assault you has now purchased you your very own cock.

Once it’s nestled securely within the harness, you spend several minutes pacing around the cabin, watching it bob along in front of you. Kriff, you’re oscillating between nervous, curious, and aroused. It makes you feel… powerful.

You and Din have an established sexual dynamic, though, and he’s always in control, even when he’s seemingly not. He has also previously rejected the idea of using toys in the bedroom, fully confident that (for you, at least) he can do better with his own dick. But as much as he’s enjoyed taking your fingers in his ass on occasion, he’d eventually agreed that something more substantial would guarantee him a more gratifying time.

Given his general dislike of sex aids, you’d asked the vendor for a realistic dildo to match your skin tone, especially since you know he’s been attracted to men in the past. Hopefully, this will help him feel less like he’s having something plastic shoved up him and more like he’s enjoying someone’s body.

With the trusty Tatooine lube at the ready on the nightstand, you strip off everything but your bra and your new appendage, then perch on the edge of the bed and wait.

You’re so accustomed to every rattle on the Crest by now that even his bare feet can’t hide his ascent up the ladder, and your pulse quickens in readiness. You stand, wanting to present him with the full spectacle upon entry to the cabin.

Din steps through the door as it slides open, but he stops dead the second he catches sight of you. His uncovered gaze plummets straight down to your cock, eyes widening in surprise, brows rising in tandem with a sharp inhale.

He swallows, staring… staring…

You gulp, hoping… hoping…

And then you see it – the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. It’s nothing compared to the wide grin you’re used to seeing on your husband’s face, but you reach out with your mind, trying to decipher that almost-smile. There’s still a heavy soup of grief, but there’s more now, too. Intrigue, anticipation… a hint of excitement. Sexual excitement.

“Do you like it?” you venture, gently steering him toward those positive feelings.

He swallows again and nods, still staring. “It looks… real.” Taking a careful step forward, he comes within touching distance yet still only uses his eyes. “I like how real it looks.”

A rush of relief pulses through you. Those credits were well spent.

With a grin, you comment, “Well, it doesn’t have balls, but I don’t need those to fuck you. My metaphorical ones are big enough.”

Din’s eyes finally rise to meet yours as he steps even closer, the smirk on his lips now more obvious, and you catch another spike of his pride over how you handled your exit from the covert. “I fucking love you,” he declares, pressing a hard, grateful kiss to your lips before pulling back abruptly. “Where do you want me?”

“On your knees, on the bed,” you command, knowing full well that this is an illusion of power he’s giving you. “I wanna see that tight little ass in the air.”

His smirk grows. “Yes, Sir.”

Mando’a translations, in case they aren’t obvious:

riduurok [REE-doo-rok] – marriage agreement

gai bal manda [guy bal MAN-dah] – adoption ceremony (lit. “name and soul”)

nariti lo’shebs’ul [nah-REE-tee loh-SHEBS-ool] – shove it up your ass

Notes:

“Trusty Tatooine lube” is a reference to the scene in the final chapter that I mentioned above – Reader picked some up before they left, which is why she suggested that particular activity as soon as they’d left the planet.

In case anyone’s forgotten, Din tells Reader in chapter 30 (after their shower sex) that whatever sex aids she used before he came along have no place in their relationship, indicating his general dislike of sex toys. I don’t think he’s a prude, but this version of Din has a preconceived notion that he needs to be the best lover he can be without any ‘cheating’. Reader could easily talk him into using toys on her, of course, simply by educating him a little better – just as she’s done regarding other things he’s been somewhat naive about. But here, she decides to respect his prior avoidance and give him an experience that feels as ‘real’ as possible. Perhaps this will help him realise that toys might be fun for her, too!

Reader also refers to having “seen his need for solitude on Anantapar”, which, as a reminder, refers to when he had a teensy bit of an emotional breakdown at the tail end of their honeymoon in chapter 38.

I adapted the lovely insulting Mando’a phrase from a previously existing phrase in Karen Travis’s novel ‘Order 66’ – Kovid lo’shebs’ul narit – which is supposed to mean ‘shove your head up your ass’, but the grammar is a little off. So I put the verb in the correct place and properly conjugated it, then removed the word for ‘head’ (it doesn’t need an object as she’s just said the word “offer”, so it’s clear what she’s talking about).

Holy crap, I’m scared now I’ve put this up. This is the first new Be-All content since July 2023! 😭 Fun timing, though, because I have another two Be-All bonus posts coming out in the next few days as the fic is about to hit a milestone, so stay tuned!

Permanent tag list lovelies:

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[shamera]

this expresses about 1.5435432% of how much i've been enjoying this series lately, and touches even less on its amazingness, but what can you do.

if you have the time and energy to spare, please go read My S-Class Hunters / The S-Classes That I Raised!!!

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Dazai leans over the edge, a strong gust of wind is all it would take to push him over, to send him falling to his sweet, ultimate demise.

Chuuya grabs his arm in a strong grip- but he doesn't pull Dazai away from the edge. Chuuya looks Dazai straight in his eyes. Bright blue eyes meet Dazai's and he says in a firm voice,

"If you jump, you'll kill both of us."

And it's clear, right then, how deeply Chuuya trusts Dazai.

And Dazai doesn't jump.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

happy hodgvingdays <3

[lyntarts]

*‘Like Him’ starts playing in the distance*

Based on a scene from @purplepeptobismol’s bunny fanfic ‘I Will Make of You’ in AO3!!!! It’s so freaking good you guys. Like, I deadass had to take a minute to recollect my thoughts after reading the drafts. I RECOMMEND EVERYONE TO READ IT!! 🫶🫶 Hooray for sci-fi time travel fics!!!!!! WOOHOO!!!

I know Cooper technically didn’t see the fire from the outside, but let’s just pretend for dramatic effect!

Previous // Next

[pokemon-radical-red]

I hate it when I headcanon a character who’s canonically a girl as a trans man and make ships of him and a character who’s canonically a guy and I refer to it as a gay/mlm/guyxguy/whatever ship and someone gets mad. Like omg let trans people have FUNNNNN. Why are queer headcanons and genderbends cool until they’re saying that the character is trans???

“OMGGG you’re so misogynistic I can’t believe you would erase FEMALE representation!!!”

and like half of the characters in the franchise are women, and a total of… NONE of the characters are trans men. Also, my headcanon doesn’t change the source material. If my stuff upsets you, you can block me and go engage with the source or maybe every single other fanwork, since mine is the only trans man hc for this character that I’ve ever seen.

or when people are like “WTF??? this is so transphobic!!! how dare you imply that a character who looks like that could be a trans man?!?! do you think that trans men are women or something??? she uses she/her, and you’re misgendering her!”

No, I don’t think that being a trans man makes you a woman or vice versa. That’s why it’s a headcanon, and the headcanon is that this character is actually a trans man and not a woman at all! You’ll never guess what pronouns most trans men had to use at some point in their lives, and you really won’t like it when you find out about pre-(or no-)transition trans men… or trans men who are in the closet… or trans men who don’t know that they’re trans yet.

“But the character is a kid!!! Saying they’re trans is sexualizing them.”

I’ve seen this one from other queer people. Like did you miss when all of the homophobes said this about your identity, or do you think that bigotry is only bad when it’s directed at you?

“Why would you say ‘testosterone could fix her’??? Are you trying to call her a delusional woman?”

Why would your brain even go to that first? This literally has to be a bad faith reading, because there’s no way that someone could see what I said and get this unless they were specifically looking for something to be mad at me for.

(Note for anyone unaware: “Estrogen would’ve fixed him!” was a meme going around at the time I said this. I’m not sure if it’s still super big, but this was a joke to the effect of that.)

“So girls can’t be tomboys anymore? You just wanna trans everyone?”

This is like actual real life transphobic rhetoric. This isn’t even just shitting on my headcanon, but in fact, sending transphobic hate to a trans man. Thanks 👍. Maybe you should go send JK Rowling another message about how much you loved her essay instead of bothering me.

[cybershock24601]

Date Night

Rook had to check Maps three times to be sure she had the right address but the imposing wrought iron gates in front of her were apparently the right place even if Rook couldn’t even see a house behind them. Well, only one way to find out for sure, Rook thought as she leaned out the window to punch in the gate code Lucanis had texted her and thankfully it worked.

As Rook drove Bianca down the long cobblestone driveway she came to the firm conclusion that Lucanis definitely lived here and this sort of elegant opulence was exactly the sort of home she would expect a guy with the sort of firm opinions on artisanal coffee and proper thread count sheets to come from. Also that the landscaping here was absolutely immaculate. The hydrangeas were the just the perfect shade of blue and Rook knew from Harding’s trouble with them that it was tricky thing to do.

Finally, Rook reached what must have been Lucanis’ house which was less a house and more of a mansion and less of a mansion more of an actual fucking castle. Oh yeah, this place was explaining a whole lot about Lucanis’ odder idiosyncrasies.

Not that Rook cared too much about that as she put Bianca in park and hopped out of the car with the giant bouquet she dragged Harding with her to pick out. Rook had thought about getting something more original than some red roses but Lucanis appreciated the classics so two dozen red roses it was.

With a skip in her step and the accompanying jingle from the chains hanging off her belt, Rook approached the imposing carved wood double doors and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. Rook didn’t even have time to start getting nervous standing outside in her scuffed up Docs and second hand outfit in front of such an imposing manor before the door was wrenched open to reveal Lucanis.

With Lucanis all dressed up with his hair slicked back, beard trimmed, and in a suit that did amazing things to his figure, Rook thought she could be forgiven for panicking and thrusting the bouquet right into his chest with a high pitched, “For you!”

Lucanis let out a soft little oof but took the roses with delicate care and looked at them with the softest, sappiest smile Rook had ever seen him wear before he looked right back at Rook with those lethally big, beautiful brown eyes of his eyes as he said in a gentle, quiet voice dripping with barely contained joy, “Rook, you shouldn’t have.”

Rook barely stopped herself from doing a little fist pump at Lucanis’ reaction because she clearly knocked it out of the park with the bouquet as she watched Lucanis gently stroke the petals of the roses. Instead of doing anything to embarrass herself, Rook managed to play it cool and say “Of course I should have. Would this have really been a proper date without flowers?”

Rook’s cheeky little grin disappeared quickly as Lucanis pulled Rook into a gentle kiss that had her closing her eyes and leaning into it as much as she could without crushing the flowers between them. It was far from their first kiss but it still tasted just as sweet, like honey and lavender cream.

Rook broke the kiss with a sweet little giggle and brought her hand up to Lucanis’ chest and ran a finger down the soft fabric of his suit, “You’re looking sharp tonight.”

“And yet I still don’t look nearly as radiant as you, mi vida.” Lucanis said as he took Rook’s hand in his own and brought the back of it up to his lips for a gentle kiss. Rook could only let out another lovesick giggle.

In one smooth motion, Lucanis transferred the roses to hold in the crook of his elbow, hooked his other arm with Rook’ own, and pulled the door closed with his foot before rushing them both out to the car, “I think it’s time we got out of here.”

Rook followed along easily as Lucanis lead them back to the car but couldn’t help teasing Lucanis, “What’s the rush? Are you just that excited to get me all alone?”

“Of course, Rook. However it would also be best if we got out of here before my family decides to make an appearance.” Lucanis said as he opened the side passenger door.

“What? Afraid I’ll embarrass you in front of them?” Rook asked teasingly as she walked around the front of the car to get to the driver side.

“No.” Lucanis said vehemently as if the idea of ever being embarrassed by Rook was anathema. “I just don’t want them scaring you off.”

“Lucky for you then I don’t scare easily,” Rook said with a wide grin as she plopped down in the drivers seat and stuck the key back into ignition. Do not embarrass me now, Bianca, Rook thought as she willed the worn down car to start as she turned the key. Luckily Bianca had her back and started up on the first try.

“You have not met my grandmother, Rook. She’s a scary woman.” Lucanis said as he settled into his seat, still softly clutching the roses to his chest. He probably should have put them right in a vase but he wasn’t willing to risk the chance of his family showing up by taking the time to do that.

“But you have met me, and trust me, it would take a whole hell of a lot more then one scary old lady to make me leave your side.” Rook said as she took Lucanis’ hand and laced their fingers together. She met Lucanis eyes with a brilliantly bright grin and gave their hands a squeeze before detangling their fingers to put her hand on gear shift. “So, are you ready to hit the town?”

Lucanis just let out a joyous laugh and said, “Yes. I am just hoping this place has a good selection.”

“It’s a wine bar. I feel like it should have something to satisfy even a wine snob like yourself.” Rook said as she started driving back down the cobblestone driveway.

“I am not a snob. I simply have high standards.” Lucanis said with an imperious sniff, “However seeing as Emmrich recommenced the place I am willing to give it the benefit of doubt.”

Rook only laughed and the two of them set off into the night.

--------

Meanwhile, the third floor music room of the Villa Dellamorte was completely silent except for two quiet clinks as its two inhabitants set down their opera glasses at the same time and shared a Look between themselves. The entryway of the house might have blocked their view of the door but they still got a clear look at Lucanis’ mysterious sweetheart and the... atrocity she rode around in.

No words were exchanged as the two stewed in silence at the scene they had just witnessed. Finally Illario simply could not take the silence and exclaimed, “What was that? Did Lucanis really put on Armani to ride around in some clunker that should have found it’s home in a junk yard a decade ago?”

“And that outfit! Who needs that many bracelets? I could practically hear the jingling from up here! And what sort of freak walks around wearing that many skulls on them? Mierda!” Illario said as he jumped up out of his chair to pace around the room, muttering under his breath all the while at every fashion faux pas and crime Rook committed in the less then five minutes he was saw them for.

“Oh my poor boy, where did I go wrong?” Caterina asked softly as she put her hand to her forehead and bemoaned her grandson’s taste. She had introduced him to so many well mannered and well bred boys and girls over the years and he went and picked one right out of a Hot Topic dumpster. Caterina just thought that Lucanis had high standards but it turned out he just had bade taste.

“And the car! Did you see those bumper stickers? Who slaps on a sticker that says ‘I eat sand’ on their car? I think I saw about six coexist bumper stickers on that thing!” Illario said as he whipped back around to Caterina to keep complaining. If Illario ever cared to ask Rook about that, she’d be able to tell him the very long story Varric told her about how Bianca ended up with covered with so many coexist stickers that involved at least two trips to the hospital over the span of six months, but Rook had no excuse for the I EAT SAND one, that one was all Rook.

Caterina held up a hand to halt Illario’s ranting mid stream and said, “We must do something about this. Do you know if Viago’s cousin is still single?”

“The fuck up? I would have to ask.” Illario said, a bit confused as he was sure Caterina could not stand the kid.

“Do so. Anyone would be better than that one for Lucanis.” Caterina said with finality as she stood up to retire to her room with what would likely be an entire bottle of wine to help her cope with the night’s revelations.

[ottpopfic]

Do we want a fic if them banging as souls and being like way too obsessed with each other? Like I already know I'm probs gonna write it, but like, is that a thing, can I find an Ao3 tag for that.

[rosedforbes]

I've been working on this for an embarrassing amount of time, but i finally mustered the courage to post it! this a gift for @galvanizedfriend , my favorite autor, moot, and dare I say friend, on tumblr! Yokan, I'll never stop saying that your fictions are the only thing keeping me sane at the moment, and they've always been a tiny lantern during some tough periods of my life. I really hope you'll like this little Drabble about Kleve 🙏

DISCLAIMERS: Eve is NOT my character, she's from Yokan's series The Wolf ! also, this is my first time ever writing a fan fiction, and English is not my native language, so please, have mercy.

maybe there's a god, after all.

That's the thought that has been crossing Klaus' mind for sixteen years, every single time he looked at his little girl.

After his experience with Marcel, Klaus has realized that raising a child into his own reflection is not a smart move. In fact, if Eve had turned out like her father, it would've been the very end of the whole human - and inhuman - species. Luckily for everyone, his beautiful princess is essentially the mini version of the only woman who shares the custody of his immortal heart with her: Caroline.

They couldn't be more similar if they tried. Like mother, like daughter.

If it wasn't for some specific details that Eve couldn't have taken from anyone but him, Klaus thinks that people would start questioning if Caroline made Eve by herself, without the contribution that is usually required to create another living creature.

That, is all him.

Even if he's quite proud – and grateful — about how Eve's turned out just like her magnificent mother, Klaus can't help but smile when he witness the appearance of one those details he mentioned before: the fondness for art, the passion for swords duels — a voice in the back of his mind reminds him of something Caroline said about this specific factor, "it's called fencing, Klaus. You don't need to kill your opponent anymore to prove your victory." or something along those lines —  the constant presence of dark humor and sarcasm in any of her conversations, and her gigantic, stormy blue eyes that are accompanied by a pair of dimples and a wicked little smile whenever she got something on her mind.

Something that Eve clearly hasn't taken from him though, is her way of showing emotions. Just like his wife, Eve wears her emotions like a second skin, which leads to her being a terrible liar. If she's happy, then the room will light up as soon as she enters it, and everyone can't help but be drawn to her joyful behavior. On the other end, if she's feeling sad, angry, or any other kind of negative emotion, then... Well, she would keep her mouth shut and open it just to make salty remarks, keeping an annoyed — yet adorable, if you ask him — little pout on her face.

That's how Klaus knows that something is wrong.

As soon as he sets foot in the compound, he's greeted by a very common view: Freya and Eve, sitting around the table of the living room, reading and chanting spells.

Normally, Klaus would walk towards them just to make them aware of his presence and to steal a kiss on his daughter's cheek as a brief salute, but he soon realizes that Freya is the only one writing down something in witch gibberish, while Eve is just quietly looking at her aunt, with a frowned expression all over her face.

His little wolf is so caught up on Freya's doing that she doesn't notice him until he's behind her, trying to understand what kind of spell his sister is casting, with a hand gently touching her shoulder. Eve tenses up at the touch, turning her head to look at him almost as fast as a regular vampire. As soon as she sees him though, she relaxes a little bit, offering him a tight lipped smile.

"Hey, Daddy," she says, voice so quiet and hoarse that he probably wouldn't have heard her if it wasn't for his vampirism. " 'm sorry, didn't hear you coming in."

Hearing Eve talking with such a tired and low tone makes his heart explode with concern. She's pure sunshine, his daughter, this cloud of negativity does not belong to her. Nonetheless, he tries to mask his thoughts with a tight lipped smile, looking down at Eve, "Don't worry, sweetheart," He says, moving his eyes to his sister, who hasn't left hers from the grimoires spread around the table even as he introduced himself, "Freya, care to explain what's happening or do I have to guess?" He asks with a tone that indicates nothing but irritation.

Klaus arches his brows in confusion, his gaze switching between Eve and Freya, as to ask for one of them to elaborate what he just heard.

Freya finally looks up, if only to send him a not-so-friendly glare, but before she can snap right back at him, Eve takes word, looking at him like she's about to have a nervous breakdown "Apparently, I'm on house arrest until the Jury," she indicates Freya with her eyes, before turning her attention back to him, "tells me otherwise."  She concludes, and the exasperation of her tone is almost touchable.

It's Freya the one that, with a sigh, steps in. "Some witches have been messing around with a kind of magic way too difficult for them to understand, leading to an imbalance that covers all New Orleans." She explains, rubbing her hands on her temples. "Long story short: right now, every witch in New Orleans is having trouble controlling their magic, especially the younger ones like Eve. In addition, being the tribid gives her an enormous amount of power which is hard to control on a good day, so it's better if we keep her under control, in a limited and safe space."

Eve rolls her eyes as soon as Freya concludes, shifting her position to show him the magic-restraining bracelet on her wrist. "I haven't seen this freaking bracelet in years. I thought I was finally free, but no, some dumbass witch thought it was a good idea to mess with something way too big for them to understand, turning me into a fu-"

"Language." Both Klaus and Freya interrupts her, giving Eve a warning look.

she glares at both of them, visibly annoyed.

"turning me into a freaking bomb." she grumbles, looking down at the pages of the grimoires.

Christ, Klaus thinks, he's losing points as the cool parent.

"Dad?" Eve says, looking at him with an arched eyebrow, like she's expecting something from him. "Are you still here? You haven't threatened anyone since you heard of this, and it's more concerning than a bunch of low-level witches messing around." She concludes.

Klaus takes a long sigh, pulling out his phone from his pocket to send a message to Caroline and the rest of the family. It takes all of his willpower to not storm out and look for this gang of inconsiderate witches, accompanied by nothing but his fury, showing them the treatment that is reserved specifically to the ones that put his daughter in a bad mood, but he recognized the fact that this situation is already unsteady, and there is no space for his impulsiveness, yet.

Well, the sarcastic remarks are only funny when they're not directed at him.

"Trust me, Eve, I have lots to say, but none of it is appropriate in the presence of a child." he retorts, switching his attention back to Freya. "I've sent a message to Caroline and to our siblings, they should all be here in about 40 minutes."

Freya simply nods, gathering all the magic stuff from the table. "I'll call Vincent." she stands up, giving a kiss on Eve's head. "I'm pretty sure he's more informed than us at the moment. Besides, another witch would be helpful."

"what am I? a ghost?!" Eve snaps when Freya disappears in her own bedroom. "I can't use magic, I'm on house arrest, this handcuff is back around my wrist and I haven't even had my daily bignets!" she explains desperately, curling on herself, resting her chin and arms over her knees.

Klaus can't help the low chuckles coming out of his mouth, something that earns him a dirty look from his little wolf.

"I'm glad you find my misery amusing. Father of the year, really." Eve says, enunciating her pout even more.

"Not at all, sweetheart. To be completely honest, I would love nothing more than to go fetch those witches myself and show them what happens when someone dares to upset my daughter," Eve promptly rolls his eyes at that, but he sees how she's trying to bite back a smile.

"However, Your mother would eviscerate me if my impulsiveness took place in a delicate situation such as this one."

"Then what do we do while waiting for mom to come home?" Eve says, and truth to be told, patience has never been a strong suits of her.

"Well, I did get that new painting set you've mentioned lately." He says with a grin, observing how Eve's pout changes to a wide smile between record time.

"The pink one?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"You're the best!" she chirps, jumping from her chair to wrap her arms around his waist, the bad mood evaporating completely from her body. Klaus can't help but smile when he looks down at his daughter, holding her close to him. Oh, how he wishes time would stop, just to remain like this for at least a decade, with his little girl safe, sound and happy in his arms, where no bad intentions can reach her.

"Come on, sweetheart," He says, grabbing her hands "let's see if those colors actually blend on their own." he concludes with a wink, leading her towards the art studio. He knows this happiness is going to be short-lived, but the least he can do is to keep Eve's mind occupied, distracting her from the stress of this situation. As he enters the room, Klaus notices that he's running out of dark red acrylic.

Well, it appears those witches are going to be useful, after all.

[boy-in-red-dress]

This fic is basically if Gravity falls had the psychological horror of Hannibal at this point. Read the tags!!!!

[recycledraccoon]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Dimension 20 (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Adaine Abernant/Oisin Hakinvar, Adaine Abernant & Oisin Hakinvar Characters: Adaine Abernant, Oisin Hakinvar, Lucy Frostblade, The Bad Kids (Dimension 20), The Rat Grinders (Dimension 20) Additional Tags: most of these are mentions - Freeform, no beta's we die like lucy frostblade, Pre-Relationship, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, POV Second Person, Colored Text Summary:

Imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissed thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there.

[solarlight2625]

what if I said lullaby, my sans undertale oc from middle school, is helping me graduate highschool chat would you believe it /srs

ANYWHO!!! if you're down here ur probably like 'omg lux why are u making angst art' CAUSE I WANNA. Oh and bcuz this is an old piece I finally finished.

anywho. take ur ink and lullaby angst, bcuz I know you want to see it

[midnightwind]

Clipped Wings

Clipped Wings is a slow burn Rookanis fic (our main man and his +1 will be appearing in later chapters) taking place right before the events of the game up until the final scene fates willing.

Summary: Every hero has to start somewhere. For Mirenna de Riva that somewhere is in an alley she wasn't supposed to be in, fighting Antaam she wasn't supposed to be dealing with.

Word Count: 6076

Read on AO3 | Next

Chapter One: The Botched Job

The air was acrid, the smoke from the many Antaam bonfires stinging her nose as she clung to the trellis. It was doing a damn fine job drowning out the usual smell of the canals, smothering the food stalls still fighting for coin in the markets. Even the cafes struggled to combat the smoke at times. Treviso had turned into a smoldering mess, all fire and gunpowder. The Antaam checkpoints choked the once beautiful maze of alleys and canal paths, ugly slabs of wood casting a harsh reminder of the occupation on the streets. There were attempts to reclaim them, of course, the splashes of purple and black art serving as the calling cards of the Crows. A few might have even been painted by her hand, but they did little to inspire faith. Things looked bad.

The Crows had begun gathering in the Cantori Diamond to make plans, a strange cooperation to be seen from an order that would kill a House for sneezing wrong. It wasn’t quite war, but the occupation was an affront to their honor. Treviso, all of Antiva, was theirs. So how did an order of assassins deal with it? Apparently by spending days upon weeks discussing where to hit the Antaam, sending out small teams that seemed to more annoy the invaders than actually uproot them, and so much yelling. It was why she was out in the city instead of back at the nest. No open contracts in her name meant she had a little free time and getting away from the Talons arguing over what was the more worthy target was a blessing. As if Viago and Teia in the same room wasn’t exhausting enough, having the First Talon looming in each meeting was terrifying. Just thinking of the woman sent a shiver down her spine.

Shaking herself slightly, she turned away from the grim image of Antiva and pulled herself swiftly to the rooftop. She liked being on the up high, above everything and feeling the wind wrap around herself. Through the haze of smoke she could still see the stars shining down, the moons bright and full. A fine night for a run. If Viago wanted to drag her into another pointless meeting that ended with her giving an Antaam patrol a run for their money, well, tough shit. One of the fledglings would have to catch her first. Or better yet, they could do the job.

There was a daunting gap between buildings caused by the canal that she wanted to finally vault. It gave her a goal that at least felt attainable in the now. Better than lurking in the casino rafters waiting for Viago to send her away when she got too annoying. There was a joke to be made about putting a crow in a cage that caused a wry smile to brush her lips. If she could combine it with a pun she could torture Teia with it at least. But she had a date with the yawning abyss to keep.

A moment of quick stretches and deep breathing had her whirling thoughts finally settle. A stillness came over her before she bolted into motion. The roof flew past in a blur, her feet barely touching the ground as she vaulted balconies and ran along felled beams. She loved the feeling of her stomach dropping when she jumped over the streets and canals, a wild euphoria in the action. Her magic hummed in her veins, quick bursts pushing her a little higher into the air, giving her a bit longer in the jump. A proper burning in her lungs was building as she reached her goal, a sudden darkness of empty air looming ahead. Her destination had a decent balcony one storey down and she had been landing there on each attempt. She was always just short of the roof proper. Usually she would stop before the jump, double check she had a clear landing, then give herself the length of the roof as windup. 

Tonight she wasn't stopping. Letting the momentum of the night’s run carry her, she sailed into the waiting darkness. There was a long moment where it felt she simply hung in the air, no tether or fear of falling. As if she truly were a crow flying in the sky. Then gravity latched onto her. She was going to miss again. Frustration had her teeth grinding, but she wasn't one to give up. Magic pooled in her hands as she thrust them down, a bright light and resounding pop following the push of energy. It threw her back up into the air, the lip of the roof finally appearing under her, but now she was wholly unprepared to land.

With her hands stuck near her knees, she had to twist midair to avoid landing on them. Instead she landed on her side, her shoulder and hip taking the brunt of the impact as she rolled to a stop. Flopping to her back she pulled in gasping breaths, a wide smile on her lips. She raised her hands into the air in victory, wincing as her bruised shoulder protested. She'd probably regret it in the morning, but the exhilaration was worth it.

Her blood ran cold in the next second as the sounds of clinking chains and Antaam grunts echoed up from the street below. She flipped to her stomach, inching to the rooftop's edge to peer down. There was a patrol of the horned bastards leading a dejected train of people in chains. Slaves. They were making slaves of her people. It was only a handful of them, but she felt rage beginning to eat away at her thoughts. Six Antaam guards, half leading and half following. Two artillerists, three axe wielders, and a shield guard. The gunners pulled up the rear and the shield guard seemed to be leading.

Before she could fully process her actions, she was pulling out throwing daggers coated in poison. It was a paralyzing agent, a bit slow to take action but debilitating. Three found their mark as she pushed off the roof, a fourth going wide. Viago would be furious at that if he had been watching. Mageknife in hand, she fell on the farthest gunman. She buried the blade in the soft meat between the head and shoulder, angling it into the jugular. He swung back wildly and she let the movement throw her as the Antaam crashed to his knees, clutching at the gushing wound. As her feet hit the ground, magic pooled in her heels and launched her forward at the next target. That one was gifted a dragging slice from kidney to chest as she spun around him before burying it to the hilt in his heart.

That spent the last of the surprise, the third warrior swinging his axe at her head. She left the mageknife stuck in her last victim, falling to the ground to sweep at the man's legs. It felt like trying to kick a wall, pain lancing up her own leg. The soft meat behind his knee buckled slightly as the swing carried him in a half circle and she scrambled to unsheathe a mundane blade. Her head tilted slightly as a loop of chain suddenly appeared around the Antaam's throat, pulling back heavily. As he scrambled to tear it away, to slip his fingers under the links and pull in a breath, she buried a dagger in his heart and a second in his belly for good measure. She was wrenching her mageknife free before the body hit the ground. The helpful prisoner was grasping at the daggers left in the other corpse, giving her a quick lopsided smile. He was an older dwarf, dressed in expensive looking traveling clothes that had seen better days.

“Lovely evening, isn't it?” He smiled, finally freeing a blade to clutch in his shackled hands.

Whatever response she had wanted to give was lost as a shield bashed her bodily into the wall. She bounced painfully off the building, her bruised hip and shoulder screaming. Her ribs were also protesting from the impact, a few at least cracked if not broken. It made her head swim and she staggered back to her feet with swaying motions as the shield guard's spear lashed out. It cut a burning tear along her cheek from mouth to ear. Warm blood rushed out to meet the cool night air and she absently thanked the Maker he had cut below her eyes. Her dazed eyes watched the remaining two warriors squeeze past him to start swinging at her, one grabbing the length of chain between the dwarf's hands and tossing him like a toy back into the other slaves.

She had managed to hit the axe wielders with her throwing daggers earlier, but she saw the third one stuck uselessly in the shield guard's armor. That made things harder. Tiring out the warriors until the poison took effect was one thing, doing that while also avoiding the charging shield and biting spear was a whole other issue. A trembling smile stretched across her lips. She always had to make her jobs so complicated.

Dancing back, she ducked under the weapon’s swing. The side streets of Treviso weren't made to accommodate the Qunari let alone their massive weapons. That meant they couldn't reach the usual devastating speed. One upside to living in a city that used canals more than roads. It also made it harder for the two warriors to stand side by side to hunt her down. Not that they didn't try, the blades biting at her leathers as she backpedaled faster and faster. She couldn't keep that up, partly because she was getting tired and partly because she was running out of side street. The main thoroughfare would be a death sentence. Thankfully, the stupid bastards had erected their ugly barricades with chunky beams. The wood stuck out with tantalizing footholds and she used them to scramble her way up to the connecting beams of the buildings, bright bursts of energy propelling her above their swings. She peppered the warriors with her orb, the magic sparking along their flesh. They were slowing down, steadily, but she still needed a little more time. Dancing above their heads was definitely an improvement.

An agonizing blast to her shoulder spun her bodily, landing heavily on the beams and scrambling to hold on to avoid falling. The spear had been thrown beautifully, she had to admit. And then a hand was wrapped around her dangling ankle and she was ripped from her perch and slammed into the cobbled street. Her breath left her in a strangled gasp, the world spotting black as her head cracked against stone. She could barely see the Antaam axe being leveled to swing cruelly down on her, but she grasped the warrior’s leg weakly. Her magic ripped through her mercilessly, an agonized scream slipping free. The electricity caused the Qunari to shudder and jerk, staggering back a step as she kept pouring it into him. His friend was struggling to raise his own weapon, the poison finally kicking in. Better late than gore on the sidewalk.

A crossbow bolt smashed into the frozen Antaam, followed by several more at a blinding speed. That seemed like a miracle, but she wasn't going to question it. Her mark finally crashed backwards as a smoking ruin and she sluggishly crawled to her feet. Just one more big bastard and then she could close her eyes like her body was screaming at her to do. She spat out blood, the metallic tang centering her. The shield guard had scooped up an ax, the weapon pointed at her, but the shield was turned away, facing back at the slaves. The dwarf from earlier had one shackle dangling and the strangest contraption she had ever seen in his hands. That explained the bolts, sort of. Now the Antaam was nervous. Nerves made people sloppy. Her orb flickered and jumped in her hand before settling into the form of a dagger. She held both up in front of her defensively, watching the man’s eyes dart side to side. Her shoulder was white hot pain, but she pushed it down and advanced slowly. 

For his part, the guard wasted no time swinging at her. It earned him punching bolts from the dwarf, but it forced her on the back foot. Her blades bounced off his shield with grating strikes, the magic sparking and dancing along the metal. If she could get one proper hit with her mageknife, she could detonate the fizzing energy. He let out a grunt, his knee buckling as a heavy bolt punched into it. She hooked her crackling knife on the shield and tore it to the side, punching the mageknife into his chest. The magic sucked at the lightning sparking along his body before it exploded out of the blade. It threw her back and she landed heavily on the street. The heavy thud of the Qunari collapsing followed shortly after. With a giddy laugh of disbelief, she fell back to the street, blades clanging to the ground and smoking from the magic. And then a shadow fell over her and she almost screamed, about to let loose enough curses to kill a sister. Viago’s furious face loomed over her, a sharp knife in his hand.

“Mirenna de Riva, what have you done?” He hissed, voice laced with a cold rage.

She smudged a hand across her cheek, wincing as she carelessly touched the ugly cut. “Saved some civilians.”

His grip on her good arm was a sharp agony as he pulled her roughly to her feet. She leaned heavily on the wall the second he let go, head lolling to the brickwork. That definitely felt like a concussion. He was jabbing the knife towards her in the next instant and she watched it blandly. If he was going to kill her, that brief contact would have already sealed the deal. The knife felt almost comical and a weak laugh shook her shoulders. She winced at that, too.

“You idiot.” He was always good at making his voice sound like a whip. Usually felt like one, too. “You have no idea what you just stepped into.”

“An Antaam patrol? Vi, I think I can identify Qunari still.” Was she slurring her words? Probably fine.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking up to the sky as if to ask the Maker why? “No, you reckless, idiot child. You just ruined weeks of planning.”

Oh. Missing those meetings he told her to show up for had probably been a bad idea. She glanced at the huddling group of civilians still laden with chains. The dwarf was using her dagger from earlier to pry at the locks, but it was slow going. The people were scared, but they also looked at her with deep gratitude. That caused a warm flame to flicker to life in her chest.

“Shit plan that sacrifices our people like that.”

The slap he whipped across her cheek cracked loudly in the night air. It caused her to stagger, knees buckling before she slid to the ground. Maker above, it left her ears ringing. She prodded the reddening flesh, more checking to make sure the skin hadn't broken under a hidden needle or some such. It would be like him to poison her for that offense, but no. He had simply hit her. He was feeling generous. Or maybe it was concern that was making him soft. A grin stumbled across her lips and she clawed at the wall, trying to stand. Her body had other plans, pulling her further to the ground. Oh, he'd hate that. He had slapped her unconscious.  

She came to a few moments later, her world bobbing. Someone was carrying her. No, wait, someone had slung her on their back and was giving her a piggyback ride. Leather with sharp herby undertones tickled her nose. They smelled like home. She almost let out a slicing laugh of disbelief straight into Viago’s ear. Instead it was just a full body shaking wheeze. She felt his jaw twitch in displeasure.

“If you can laugh, you can walk.” He snapped.

“Poor excuse for a laugh in my opinion, sir.”

Who the fuck was that? She cast bleary eyes at the small form walking at Viago's side. It was that same dwarf who had helped her in the fight. His bizarre weapon was wrapped up in a blanket and hanging on his back. A shame, really, she wanted a good look at a crossbow with that kind of firepower. It'd be nice to have against the Antaam. He caught her eyes, giving a knowing smile.

“You liked Bianca’s work, huh?” He gestured back at the weapon. “One of a kind, sadly.”

She let out a little hum, her head lolling slightly. “Does that make me your Bianca right now, Vi?”

He dropped her suddenly, letting her crash to the street like a sack of potatoes. It set her body on fire and she gasped despite herself. He brushed his hands off on his leathers like he had been touching something filthy. She just lay there, letting the agony slowly ebb through her.

“I'd have to approve of your work, I think.” He offered dryly, looming over her again. “And I very much do not.”

He had such a knack for making his words hurt more than any knife. The sheer disappointment in his voice caused a gnawing pit to open in her stomach and she grimaced. Anyone else would be impressed a lone Crow had taken down a patrol and lived. Why couldn't he be like them? A heavy sigh escaped her as she struggled to sit up. Wouldn't be Viago if he gave her any kind of affection. Talons had to be hardasses and he had gotten a head start on that.

“I'm not going to apologize for saving people from slavery. Our people.” She huffed, standing shakily.

“Would you like to explain your reasoning to the other Talons? I'm sure they'd agree that saving a handful of strays justifies losing the intel of where and how the Antaam are shipping in their weapons and gaatlok. Of letting countless other citizens be taken and sold off because we don't know where they're being held. Of how we won't be able to strike at them like we planned because they will be waiting for it now.” His tone was pure ice.

She should have backed down at that, bowed out to his reasoning. Too bad logic had never been a close friend of hers. “I'm a stray, chalk it up to that.”

His hand twitched like he wanted to hit her again. Instead, he jabbed a finger at her face. “No, you are a Crow of House de Riva. Your every action is a reflection of your House. You have not only ruined weeks of planning between the Talons, but you may have jeopardized our standing among them.”

“Ohh,” her voice dripped with bitterness, “I'm sorry, I made you look bad. That is the greatest tragedy, you're right.”

That was a mistake, she could see it in the hard glint in his eyes. “I can't keep covering for you like this, Renn. The other Houses will want blood. How many blades must I deflect for your stupidity? How much more infighting must the Crows survive for your stubbornness? You claim it's for Antiva, but if that was true you'd keep your head down, report when told, and follow orders. You just want to play hero like a child while everyone else pays for it.”

Indignation flushed her cheeks. “Are you scolding me?”

“You act like a toddler who needs it.” He replied coolly.

“You want to act like my da so bad, go wander into the forest and get gutted like him.” She snarled, pushing past him to stalk towards the Diamond.

She had made it three steps before the regret set in, the thought of Viago dead sinking claws into her heart and leaving bloody gashes. She hated that she cared, hated how she started to turn around to try and take the words back. When her leg buckled, causing her to stagger instead, she wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Viago caught her arm before she could fall, forcibly keeping her standing. His face had the usual impassable scowl, the corner of his mouth twitching down as she hung there for a long moment. The words were stuck in her throat. So instead she yanked herself free, stumbling through the next few steps.

It was a long walk home, the air simmering between them. The queer dwarf followed along silently, though his brows were gently knit with concern as he glanced between the two of them periodically. Part of her wanted to ask why he, specifically, was trailing along and why it seemed like Viago was leading him straight to the Crow’s gathering place, but that would mean talking to Vi. She didn’t think she wanted to do that for the next week. When they reached the first trellis that started the road home, she hesitated.

“You gonna be able to climb that, kid?” The dwarf asked softly.

A cold calm shivered over her. “I’m a Crow.” She stated bluntly. “This is just another Tuesday.”

Without waiting for further comment, she started the agonizing climb. The man sucked air through his teeth. “Hell of a Tuesday…”

The climb was pretty bad, her gently stabbed shoulder screeching at each handhold. The ziplines weren’t much better, but she could at least loop her cape around the bar in an attempt to spread her weight better. She landed with staggering steps on the Diamond’s rooftop balcony, barely resisting the need to collapse in a heap. Viago landed silently and stalked past her without a glance.

“Find Teia.” Was all he offered her. “Mr. Tethras, follow me. We’ll discuss your business inside.”

The dwarf did look her way, offering a weak smile. “Sorry, kid.”

And then he too was gone, disappearing into the golden light that spilled from the stairs. She leaned against the wall, letting the cool stone press into her cheek. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be like this. She just wanted to go for a run, to have a few hours to herself. Vi was right, she was an idiot. She left a smear of blood behind on the wall as she pushed herself into motion, staggering past the other Crows gathered outside. A few cast curious glances at her state, but no one even twitched a finger to help her. That wasn’t unusual, but it did make her a bit more bitter.

When she did finally stumble inside the Diamond, Teia was waiting for her. The Crow ducked under her good arm, wrapping her own around the mage’s waist and supporting her further in. Renn melted into the touch, an ugly sob trapped in her throat. She had almost died, run herself ragged to save a bunch of people she didn’t even know, and that one stupid act of selflessness might’ve doomed Viago. She owed him better than that.

The Seventh Talon pulled her off to a side room where medical supplies were laid out next to a water basin; the makeshift infirmary of the Diamond. She collapsed in the chair, huffing for a moment in a vain attempt to school herself back into order. It partially worked. As Teia soaked a towel in the basin, she began shucking off her leathers. They stuck agonizingly to her shoulder, forcing her to slowly peel the ruined material away. She’d need stitches, probably for the aching cut on her cheek, too. Teia crouched in front of her, starting the arduous process of cleaning the wound. She at least had a soft touch.

“I fucked up, T.” She wobbled out, resting her face in her free hand.

“I know, little wren.” The Talon’s voice was soft, but there was a note of disapproval hidden in it.

It made her throat squeeze shut, strangling her words. “How do I fix it?”

“Vi will handle it.”

“He shouldn’t have to.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

The pressure on her shoulder tightened, but she leaned into that touch, too. She had earned that pain. It disappeared almost instantly as Teia returned to her ministrations.

“I think it’s a bit late for that sentiment, Renn.”

Her next breath was shaking, barely disguising how close she was to crying. “If he presents me to the Talons for punishment-”

“You know he never would.” Teia cut in sharply.

“He should. It was my fuck up.”

“And his responsibility to keep you updated and under control. It looks bad if he takes the blame, it looks bad if he throws you to the Crows. He has survived worse than a shameful underling and he'll survive this too.” Teia pressed her shoulder back against the chair, holding up a hooked needle. “You are far from the worst thing to happen to House de Riva.”

With trembling fingers, she tried to conjure a small flame. The magic sputtered and fizzled. The Talon pressed her lips into a thin line, leaning over to use a candle instead.

“You used too much magic.” It wasn’t a question.

A wobbling laugh slipped free. “Yeah, used a bunch to make a stupid jump then had to fight six Antaam. Fingers feel all numb and tingly still.”

“He warned you not to do that.” She pressed, needle biting into the young Crow’s flesh.

Renn flinched slightly, watching the process numbly. “It’s not that much nerve damage and I won’t feel it for a few more years. The work now is more important.”

“I wish you hadn’t picked up his stubborn workaholic streak.” The Talon sighed.

Her mouth quirked with a weak smile. They sat in silence as the wound was dealt with, Teia’s stitching even and clean. The mage pulled in a steadying breath before turning her sliced cheek to face the woman. She hated face injuries. They hurt the most. She tried to disconnect herself from the moment, focusing on better things. The warm sweet rolls from the market, strong coffee before a stake out, that euphoric moment of hanging in the air mid jump. It barely dulled the pain, but it let her sit still for the process. When she was finished, Teia took her hands in her own and gently massaged her fingers. It was a vain attempt to coax feeling back into them.

“Thanks, T.” She offered up softly.

“I’d like to stop stitching you back together, little wren.” Her mouth slanted unhappily with worry.

“I think you’d need to clip my wings for that.”

“Don’t give Vi any ideas.” She shook her head, hair bouncing with the motion. “You can go see if he’s done with his meeting. I have letters to start.”

Guilt gnawed at her as the Seventh Talon slipped away. She’d made a proper mess this time. Instead of looking for trouble, she stood on wobbly legs and walked to the water basin. She spent long minutes washing the blood from her leathers, squeezing them dry and patting them down with a towel before wrapping herself back up. She couldn’t do much to hide the stitches on her cheek, but she could cover every other injury up. She almost laughed at the notion. It was another quirk she’d inherited from Viago, the need to hide behind thick leathers and cloth as if they’d dull any blade diving for their backs. It did make her feel a little better though.

With her feet only dragging a little, she shuffled her way back out into the Diamond proper. She could see Viago and the dwarf still talking at the long table stashed in a large alcove. The smaller man was more animated, hands gesturing up and down as he talked. Viago was still as always, only his face changing with small twitches and scowls as the discussion continued. Interrupting that was maybe the worst idea she could have. So instead, she pulled herself up into the rafters of the casino with a grunt, her shoulder protesting again. She liked it up there, the golden light lost to the gloom in the dome at night. Voices bounced in curious octaves, murmurs crawling along and whispers tickling your ears. It felt like a place of secrets. With quiet steps, she crept along the rafters until she was over the table, laying down flat on her stomach so she could hear better.

“... this mage is a problem, sir. If you have any Crow to spare, someone who can help find and deal with him, maybe the-”

“My House is the wrong one to come to for this.” Viago interrupted sharply.

“I tried to find the famed Mage Killer, but I got turned away at every door.”

That caused the Fifth Talon’s eyes to tighten, his jaw twitching. There was more to that, Renn noted. Viago knew something. She leaned a little closer, hoping to catch a snippet of a whisper maybe, something that would reveal just what he knew about the First Talon’s best assassin.

“House Dellamorte is expensive, even by your standards. Your mark seems nebulous at best, as well. Claiming an Elven god disguised as a Dalish mage is trying to plunge the world into chaos by tearing open the Fade sounds ludicrous.” Viago’s tone was dismissive. He wanted this conversation over with forever ago and his patience was slipping.

“I know how it sounds, I’ve been spouting it for months now while trying to find him. But no one wants the world filled with demons and wild magic, trust me.” The dwarf sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll be in town for a week or so. If you can think of anyone who can help, a Crow you wouldn’t mind letting loose for a bit, I’ll pay good coin. I’m good for it, my title backs it up. I’ll stop by again before I leave the city, if that’s all right.”

Viago gave a minute shrug. “A wild goose chase is expensive, Mr. Tethras.”

“Good thing I’m not hunting a goose.” He sighed, offering the Talon a wave as he turned to leave.

Viago watched him go silently before his eyes turned to the papers on the table. Probably details about the potential contract. She was too far to read those, especially as he picked them up to shuffle through them. After a long moment, he crooked a finger up towards the rafters, beckoning. She swallowed thickly. Her usual smooth movement to dismount the beam to the floor below almost dropped her unceremoniously on her face as her shoulder refused to hold her weight. She barely caught herself on the edge of the table with her good arm, leaning on it in a poor attempt to cover the fall casually.

“You,” he started bluntly, pointing at her, “are to return to the apartments and stay there until I say otherwise.”

She spluttered at that, wanting to argue. She was one of the best earners for the House. She did terribly with idle time. Locking her up in her room was akin to torture. She didn’t voice a single one of those thoughts, mutely nodding. Disobeying his orders was what had caused this whole nightmarish evening. She was still furious at the plan, still wanted to scream at him over how cruel it all was. But they were both stubborn, so she stayed silent. It caused him to raise an eyebrow at her.

“Not even a single note of protest?”

She shrugged, wincing at the gesture. “I got banged up. I can mope in my room for a few days about it.”

His eyes fell back to the contract in his hand. “Off with you then.”

She didn’t need another warning, disappearing in the next breath. She was exhausted and crawling into a proper bed sounded heavenly. It would be easier to sneak a peek at that contract when he wasn’t studying it like his latest potentially poisoned meal. Besides, he couldn’t keep her in the apartments forever. She was a pain in the ass, but she was an effective pain in the ass. No one could keep up with him like she could.

Limping along, she stuck to the busier streets instead of the rooftops, dawn starting to color the sky. The apartments Viago had paid for were only a few blocks away from the Diamond, a collection of rooms for the handful of de Riva Crows that followed him from Salle to Treviso. Plenty of the fledglings stayed at the Diamond, but the proper assassins preferred their own home base. Especially assassins who belonged to a House like de Riva. Poison maniacs, the lot of them, without an ounce of trust in their veins. She gave a brief greeting to the kitchen staff, accepting a warm sweetroll from one of the chefs. Fifty-fifty on it being laced with something, but turning them down was a harder fight.

The door to her room opened on silent hinges, but she stepped over a poorly hidden tripwire waiting for her. They had to at least make it look like they tried to kill each other or they weren’t real Crows or something. The poisoned darts were a nice present from whoever had left her the surprise. A simple once over of her bed revealed a strange dusting on the pillow that she shook loose out the window. At least they had kept it simple. She collapsed in the soft embrace of her bed, the exhaustion claiming her almost instantly.

She spent the next few days in a slight daze of recovery. Simple exercises to keep her ruined shoulder from getting stiff, lighter magic usage to avoid letting her system get too used to the lack of it, and she even went back to distilling fresh poisons when the boredom set in properly. At the start of week two with no word, she took to feeding Viago’s snakes for the house staff just to have something to do outside her room. When that got old, she took to trimming and harvesting her little garden of poisonous plants strewn around the windows. Week three she felt like she might die from the lack of things to do. She was hanging halfway off her bed, head dangerously close to the floor when the air in the room shifted.

“Please tell me you have a job for me, Vi.” She whined, flailing a hand into the air.

“In a sense.” His voice came from the other side of the bed, not a single noise to his steps as he entered the room.

“Oh, that’s ominous.” She pulled herself upright back into the pillows. Part of her still simmered when she looked at him, another part screaming at her to apologize for what she had said that night. She was obstinate to both feelings. “What’s my doghouse assignment? Please tell me it’s not canal work again.”

“You’re going to leave Treviso for a while.” He started carefully.

“You can’t.” She shot back instantly, disbelief sharp. “We’re being occupied! I’m needed here-”

“You are needed where I say you are.” He snapped. “You angered a lot of people. It’s better if you aren’t lingering here to tempt any blades.”

“You’re sweeping me under the rug.” She couldn’t keep the betrayal from her voice, before a heart wrenching thought occurred to her. “When can I come back?” Can I come back?

“It’s a contract. Finish it and you can come home.” 

“What…” she faltered for a moment, “what’s the mark?”

“An elven god.” He offered blandly, passing her the official write up. It was signed in a sweeping hand. Varric Tethras. “Be ready to go within the hour.”

And then he was gone, leaving her with a contract that seemed impossible to finish. Elven gods weren’t real. He was kicking her out of her only home. It would have hurt less if he had simply buried a knife in her heart and moved on. Better to die a Crow than be cast aside. Was this supposed to be a mercy? A cruel, numbing draught to forget her with? She crumpled the pages to her chest, furious and despairing. Varric Tethras was going to regret making this contract.

[lostinalem]

I deleted the original post bcs I was embarrassed and I still am but I'm trying again anyway so full version on AO3 godbless