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calmcoldevening · 11 months ago

Note

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

#slashers x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #brahms the doll #brahms heelshire x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #the leatherface #leatherface x reader #leatherface x you

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 1 year ago

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Seduced By Your Scent (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary: Swayed by rave reviews, you purchase a perfume that endeavours to make any man fall for you. But you don’t want just any man; you want your beloved husband.

AN: Based on a perfume review I saw on twitter/from discord, and my friend got me back into Bridgerton so here we are. Potential part two to Subtle-tea but can be read as its own fic.

Content Warnings: Reader wears a dress, is referred to as “my lady”. Suggestive language and actions, 18+ readers only, minors DNI

Masterlist // AO3

“You must try this elixir! It’s like they’ve bottled Venus and sent her to solve all marital issues!”

Not that you and Benedict needed any kind of aphrodisiac or marital advice. After your glorious wedding and the honeymoon of your dreams, you grew more enamoured with one another with each passing day. But you couldn’t help but become intrigued by your companion’s impassioned declarations.

Here was where that curiosity led you: sitting at your vanity, staring at the bejewelled and beautiful bottle – fitting of its praise and hinting at the power of the perfume it held. It cast rainbow refractions across your room as you rotated it with a scrupulous gaze. The glass stopper released with a delicate pop and you gave the opening a tentative sniff. Sparks of something musky with a hint of whimsy reached your brain. It seemed to caress your sense of smell, lull you into a foggy serenity whilst curving the corners of your mouth into a smile.

A light knock at your bedroom door did very little to pull your from this haze, and your maid stood awkwardly in the doorway as you dragged your eyes away from the bottle and over to her.

“Breakfast is ready, my lady,” The maid bobbed a curtsey.

“Thank you.” And, as she closed the door behind her exit, you gave the bottle one more look.

Well, it couldn’t hurt.

With care, you tipped the bottle then dragged the soaked stopper across one wrist. It pressed together with its partner then paired against your neck to seal the scent in.

The moment you stepped into the dining room – empty besides your beloeved husband - Benedict rose from the head of the table and drew out the chair beside him for you to sit. It was part of your routine, in your home and wherever you went, as was the smile with which he greeted you. Often it was broad and beaming, like today. Sometimes it was more subtle but with his eyes just as bright. On one or two occasions, it arrived with eyelids sunk and a hand to his forehead that pounded with consequences from the previous night’s actions, but still he smiled even though (and these were his own words) it felt like his skin was being melted from his skeleton like candle wax.

��Good morning!” He called to you while you crossed the room, his arm outstretched to clasp you close then guide you into your chair.

Continuing the routine, you kissed his cheek before sitting down, “Good morning.”

Now, this was when Benedict would push your chair in then sit beside you, ready to dine and run over your plans for the day ahead. And he started as normal. However the rate with which he pushed your chair into place was as if he was encased in jelly.

You clocked his new blank expression, “My love, are you alright?”

Instead of speaking, Benedict bent over the back of the chair and kissed your cheek. A short and slight sniff dragged up where his lips had pressed. He withdrew gradually, just a few inches, his brow was creased in thought.

“Hmm.” His jaw twisted and he clicked his tongue. Then he leant back in, this time his nose drew a tickling line down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Benedict,” You felt your face grow hot as you resisted the urge to tense when he planted a quick kiss on the curve of your shoulder.

But your mild embarrassment only warmed the scent on your skin and spread it further around you until Benedict was encased in it beside you. Just one of your thoughts was spared in thanks to the fact that you and Benedict had stipulated that you dine alone – no butlers, no maids, no interruptions unless someone was dying.

“Have you been bathing in an aphrodisiac?” Benedict mused. Without turning away from you, he dragged his chair loudly across the floor so that he could perch himself beside you. Taking your hand, he kissed your loosely closed fist and breathed deeply in before finishing his question:

“Or are you just naturally this irresistible, and you’ve been hiding from me?”

“I can’t think what’s gotten into you,” You said, your voice wobbling when Benedict raised his eyebrows at you.

“I think you know exactly what’s gotten into me.”

Melting under his sparkling stare, you weakly nodded at his plate and setting, “Your breakfast is getting cold.”

Benedict didn’t look away from you, “I know what I’d rather eat.”

A laugh bubbled up your throat and you found yourself bordering on hysterics as Benedict’s eyes creased and he leant in close to you to titter and teem with joy.

After taking a few deep breaths, your face aching from the grin, you managed to say, “You must be drunk from the alcohol in that perfume.”

With a hand clutching at his cravat, Benedict gasped, appalled, “How dare you? Must I be drunk to show my wife some affection?”

“Nevertheless, you approve?”

“Oh yes, but only when we’re at home. Can’t let anyone else catch a whiff of this. You’ll seduce them, make them all fall in love with you, make them fall to their knees.”

“We absolutely cannot have that. Only you’re allowed to do so.”

Very suddenly, Benedict rose and kicked the seat from beneath him, pulling and pivoting you around so that you faced him. Knelt before you, you let him kiss you whilst you pet through his dark hair. His affections did not distract you from his hands tracing up your legs. The skirts of your dress caught on his wrists and exposed your sensitive skin to him.

He mumbled dreamily, “I could not agree more.” Then, with another deep inhale pressed into the side of your neck and his hands drawing down your undergarments, he drew from you the first of many delighted sighs that mingled with the lingering scent of your new perfume.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton oneshot #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton oneshot #my writing #wc: 1k<#r: fem

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 6 months ago

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@theproblemwithstardust stabilising treatments in beryl var. emerald

*picture from ⁣Emerald Enhancements - A Guide to Treatments for Clarity in Emeralds | The Natural Emerald Company

The beryl family of gemstones (beryllium aluminium silicate, hexagonal crystal system) provides a number of gem species depending on its colouring element, each with different characteristics

Emerald, green, coloured by Chromium

Aquamarine, greeny-blue to blue, coloured by Iron

Heliodor, yellow, coloured by Iron

Morganite, pink, coloured by Manganese

Green Beryl, light green, coloured by Vanadium

Red Beryl, red, coloured also by manganese maybe but I don't actually remember off the top of my head ^^;

Goshenite, colourless, no trace elements causing colour

Many of these varieties can grow large, very clear crystals free from inclusions. However emerald is typically more heavily included as the chromium atoms in the crystal structure are larger, leading to different growth conditions.

Emerald clarity should be judged against other emeralds, not against other gemstones or even other members of the same gem species! A 'high clarity' emerald is still likely to contain eye-visible inclusions, whereas the same inclusions in an aquamarine would be considered moderately included.

Fissures in emerald can be unsightly as well as causing durability issues. It is incredibly common to impregnate emerald with oil to fill the fissures, partly to improve durability and also to increase the visual appeal of the stones (as the oil filling reduces the visibility of fissures). As this is an historic treatment it does not require disclosure* - it is accepted that most if not all emeralds commercially available will have been oiled.

In more recent times fissures can also be filled with natural or artificial resins, which have been developed to have a very similar refractive index to emerald thereby reducing the visibility of the treatment, and the surface wiped with a hardener to set the treatment. In practice this is also an accepted treatment*, unless the impregnating material also contains dye to improve the colour of the stone, at which point it must be sold as treated 'dyed emerald'.

Impregnation/fracture filling of emerald brings many stones to the market which would otherwise be considered unsaleable and should be viewed as a positive step to increase availability of gem-quality material. That said, filling treatments are not permanent and oils can be lost if the emerald is not carefully handled during cleaning and repair work. It is possible for emeralds to be re-oiled but it is best to avoid cleaning techniques such as ultrasonic cleaners in the first place.

**please note the law regarding disclosure of treatments may vary by region, this is a fun information post about gemstones and not a guide to international trading standards!

Side note - although it isn't a treatment, there are other things you can do to ensure your relatively brittle emerald receives the best care! Choice of cut is one such thing. Ever heard of 'The Emerald Cut'? This octagonal step cut style was developed both to maximise yield from rough emerald crystals, and to protect the corners from chipping by making sure there are no right angles which would be prone to being knocked and chipped!

Cabochon cuts are also considered a protective cut style, however these would typically be used on more heavily included material, with popular faceted styles reserved for high-quality stones.

just-thoughts-about-gems (this is the place to ask your gemstone questions)

#emerald #stone treatments #gemmology #hope you enjoyed this?#most people aren't too interested in stone treatments!#zircon mention my beloved #i love zircon #did you know that due to radioactive colouring elements the crystal structure is slowly being broken down over thousands of years #and parts of the structure become amorphous instead of crystalline?#this can be seen as hazy graining and a loss of zircon's famous eye-visible double refraction #as well as colour change towards a green/yellowish-green colour #crystalline zircon is called high zircon #structure degrading to amorphous zircon is called low or metamict zircon #i have examples of both in my collection :)#hmm guess this turned into a double lecture about emerald and zircon #aanyways #i started a new gemmology post to answer your question so i don't have to keep reblogging that offensively colourful gem photo series ^^;#oh and the zircon colour change?#after colour degredation by uv light #that is down to uv accelerating the breakdown of the crystalline structure #and the incandescent light treatment temporarily reverses this #digging in the dirt is where gemstones come from so i'm not knocking it! :)#i don't know lots about geology #so together we probably have the broadest spectrum of knowledge about these things ^_^

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camthecatchameleon · 7 months ago

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cranking the image description out for this one boys

lineups of the Crews from the two Legends of Avantris campaigns I’ve actually listened to with consistency (still not finished with EoM but I’m on 21 so I’m getting there dont worry) + artists notes

Highly suggested that you scroll below the cut for this. (my handwriting is not the best + its small + some hidden design notes too :eyes: )

Image 1: Carnivalé LeCroux (not drawn to scale lmao)

(from left to right)

Hootsie: least fun to draw (Boring shapes) (draw the least). Typically I imagine her as a horned owl owlbear so her canon “eyebrows” flatten out and connect to her neck. I just think it gives her a nice silhouette. Frost: least fun to draw (cat). I’ve been drawing him with Chinese/vaguely East Asian-inspired robes because he’s from the mountail of Yulong and you can’t just give me a place called “Yulong” and expect me NOT to go ham on the east asian inspiriation. (east asian artist here.) Gricko: don’t draw nearly enough, most fun to draw (hair). I gave him a permanent cowlick on his bangs and I think the shapes are nice. Chunks ripped out of his ears are from Hootsie when she was younger and couldn’t control her strength. Kremy: most fun to draw (lizord), draw the most, did the most reference study for. I may love to draw lizards but crocodylidae are so uniquely shaped. Scrolling back through my ouaw posts and you can see I am still getting used to it. Torbek: most inconsistent, stupid machinery doesn’t make sense. The shape of his canisters and the collar with a keyhole both are from the first time I drew him, which was without a reference, and they just. Stuck. Gideon: Big boob indulgence, stupid machinery doesn’t make sense. Drawing him with awkwardly long hair, post-trauma fat, and smile lines is my favorite passtime. His marriage rings are on a necklace because they get in the way of punching clowns. Twig (pre-death): draw the least (can’t figure out her shapes). Drawing her fractured glasses and refracted eye is my favorite time.

Image 2: Witchhunters!! (I think my headcanon height difference is funny)

Shortest to tallest (briggsy and farryn are the same height):

Briggsy: Still figuring out how to depict distinction from Kremy (gator). So far i’ve got more spikes and a thicker neck and thats about it. I’m working on it. Farryn: fun shapes! skinny L. Ever since learning how to draw body fat I’ve never gone back its actually so hard to draw skin-and-bones skinny people now. Marius: least consistent (can’t decide how curly her hair is), armor L. Yes I headcanon he/she marius do you have a problem with that? Bat-like ears because heehoo. I just realized the symbol I drew on his chestplate looks like the Horde symbol from she-ra FUCK can you tell I don’t look at references? Jericho: most fun to draw!!! (draw the most). I like to draw virgil!jericho with four-pointed-star slits instead of just orbs with pupils because I think shapes are fun. Lethica: drew her wrong for WAY too long. I hadn’t paid enough attention to her actual ref and covered up her chest initially I’m so sorry queen. shes so pretty though. Although I do think its infinitely funny to headcanon that she actually looks pretty average. Tall women my beloved. Yorgrim: least drawn, Beard + Big indulgence. No seriously I’ve only drawn him twice. Hes awesome though soft rectangular shapes ftw.

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ofthecaravel · 8 months ago

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Heaven In Time

Chapter 1: Thoroughfare

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: Danny, en route to California to find love, picked up small town runaway Sam on a Texas thoroughfare and has been on the road ever since. While Sam adjusts to life as himself, Danny's wondering if he's found love without even leaving the South.

Tags: Religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, Anxiety, very sweet little crushes, idk all very soft when its not Tense

Words: 5.4k

A/N: HEAVILYYYYYY inspired by Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain, even borrowed a lyric here and there. Any and all credit to my beloved Hayden. First chapter of ??? maybe 4?? but I haven't decided. There's going to be more mention of Sam's questionable Southern Baptist Christian upbringing in those and I understand that may not be everyone's cup of tea so feel free to scroll if that may be upsetting for you.

“Do you think we’re gonna get arrested?”

Over the gentle splash of the thin, chlorinated water, Sam heard Danny’s long sigh. Usually he laughed at all of Sam’s misplaced little comments and queries, but sometimes he just sighed. Sam knew he didn’t mean anything harsh by it, but it definitely didn’t feel good.

“Not if you don’t say anything,” Danny answered plainly. A smile ghosted his tired face as he rotated to face Sam, who stared back as he awkwardly bobbed with his long hair trailing behind him like a veil. After however many dusty miles and state lines they’d crossed, it always felt good when they had a motel to crash at instead of the cramped cabin of Danny’s pickup. And it felt twice as good when the motel had a pool, especially when it was nice and late at night and there was no one else around. Sam wasn’t much of a swimmer, but he was happy to tread water and watch Danny float. His broad chest would peek just over the surface of the water and his eyes would close while his dark curls moved like the fingers of lazy clouds.

Yeah, Sam was happy to watch that.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Sam murmured, watching his fingers flex anxiously under the water in the refracted view the harsh fluorescents provided. With the country sky full of nothing but mosquitoes and the occasional whistling breeze, the yellowing pool lights were the only thing illuminating them. Sam felt suddenly self conscious thinking of how washed out he must look in this rare moment where he was the one being watched. He turned to the side, only offering Danny his profile.

“They won’t know the credit card ain’t mine until we’re in Arizona,” Danny insisted in a hushed voice. “And even then, I didn’t give the desk my real name. We’re golden if you can keep that mouth of yours shut. Can you do that for me, cowboy?”

“Sure I can.” Sam bristled, but knew Danny’s request was justified. Ever since Danny had taken pity on him and picked him up on that thoroughfare back in Texas, Sam never seemed to be able to do the right thing. He had gotten as far as he had in an attempt to remove himself from the suppressing influence of his uber religious hometown, but so far it seemed like he was still dragging it along with him. It was an embarrassing first impression to leave on someone as great as Danny was turning out to be, but he hadn’t left Sam behind yet, so Sam figured he must have some redeeming qualities that kept him around.

“Atta boy,” Danny smiled, his eyes closing as he lolled his head back and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. “Christ alive, I needed this. How long do you think we drove today?”

“5 hours?” Sam guessed, thinking back on the day. “Felt longer ‘cause of the sun.”

“Damn that sun,” Danny cursed. “Burned the hell out of my nose, too.”

“We can get lotion or something at the next gas station,” Sam offered. Truthfully, he found the ruddy blush on Danny’s nose and freckled cheeks extremely flattering, but he knew it had to hurt. Growing up in Alabama, Sam knew a thing or two about sunburn.

“With what money?” Danny laughed humorlessly, sighing again and running a hand over his face. “Although at this point, I’d be willing to skip a dinner to get my hands on some lotion. Mm. Not that I don’t appreciate your presence, but...”

Sam blinked blankly, feeling an implication pass him by like they often did. He didn’t say anything in return and sank a little further into the pool, trying not to feel even more stupid than he already did. Being tired certainly wasn’t helping, but he was really starting to feel the weight of all of his graceless actions from the past week pile on him as they swam in silence. Hopefully Danny would want to head up to their room soon and Sam could just try again the next day.

Danny noticed Sam’s silence and opened his heavy eyes to observe him with a worried look. Sam’s neck was craned and the sharp point of his nose grazed the water as he continued to stare into the palms of his submerged hands. He was halfway to prayer by the looks of it, and Danny guessed that probably wasn’t too far from the truth. It was a state of mind Sam never really seemed to leave. Danny remembered the scandalized look on Sam’s face when they’d shared their first diner meal together and Danny had picked his fork right up and gotten to work when the waitress had brought their plates. Now he knew to wait and let Sam save them with a quick round of grace before eating. Sam had never asked for his hand to hold when doing it, but somewhere between the Texas border and New Mexico, Danny had offered it up and they’d been doing it that way ever since. It sure made it a hell of a lot more tolerable for Danny to wait for Sam’s long winded recitations with his slender hand in Danny’s. He really didn’t mind too much, especially after he’d begun collecting little glimpses of the seemingly excruciating evangelical life that Sam had left behind in Alabama. Danny didn’t pry, but there was a lot about Sam that he didn’t know. He watched Sam lit up in the pale, shifting luminance coming from the pool and realized with a strange, absent pang that he wanted to know. Maybe all of it, actually.

“Not a star in the sky,” Danny commented dreamily, tilting his neck back to stare at the pitch black sky after another long minute of staring at Sam left him feeling flushed. “It was always easy to pick ‘em out when I was on the farm, but I really have to squint when I’m in cities sometimes. It’s a crying shame.”

“We had to have all the lights out in town at a certain time so I always got to see the stars,” Sam replied in a small voice. “My brothers were always looking for Castor and Pollux, but we got lost after finding Orion every single time. Always forgot whether to look up or down or west or what.”

Sam smiled at the memory, remembering watching his older brothers bicker in whispers in front of the window while pressing fingers to the glass and eventually calling Sam in for help. Their parents fell asleep fast and heavy, so nights were usually when he and his siblings really got to be themselves. Sam found himself tired during the days almost all the time, but he’d carried his drooping eyelids with a bounce in his step. Even on the rare instances when he dozed off during study or services, he’d take a ruler to the knuckles with a smile.

“I’ve always been partial to Orion,” Danny agreed, searching it out as he said it. “Probably because it’s easy to find and I’m a simple man when it comes to stuff like that.”

“You’re plenty smart,” Sam complimented. He finally lifted his head from his gloomy stance, his ear resting on his shoulder as he turned his smile on Danny. “Especially with maps. We’d be halfway to Argentina if I were the one navigating.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Danny laughed. “We can go there after we find love in California, how about that?”

“Perfect,” Sam complied, feeling a familiar sour rush of adrenaline when reminded of their end goal. It was ignorant to feel shocked over and over when he thought about it, especially considering that talk of Danny’s unknown Californian love were some of the first words Danny had ever said to him. Danny had pulled up next to Sam on the side of the road in his beat up pick up truck, told him not to run, and asked if he wanted to go see the West with him.

“‘Cause love’s out there,” Daniel had explained after Sam had hopped right in. “And I can’t leave it be.”

And Sam had agreed. Out of luck to spend and no more energy in his body to spend on walking, it was the perfect escape. It still was. It’s just that the more time he shared with Danny, the more he disliked the thought of Danny sharing time with anyone other than him. Sam was suddenly very sure he was greedy and selfish and wicked, and he made plans to pray on it after Danny had gone to sleep.

“Smart,” Danny echoed with an airy laugh, finally lifting his hair from the water and shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know about all that. If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure I’d be the muscle of the operation.”

“I guess that’d make sense. How much can you lift?”

Danny gave Sam a mischievous look and shrugged, hoping the smirk creeping onto his face didn’t give away his plans for what he’d do next.

“Not sure,” Danny answered coolly. “How much do you weigh?”

Before Sam could respond, Danny rushed forward as fast as the water allowed and grabbed Sam around the waist, boosting him up with a noisy splash. Sam shrieked initially, but it gave way to a surprised laugh, every nerve alight with buzzing heat as Danny lifted him up. Danny could only manage to keep him up for another few moments before buckling at the knee from the close contact, allowing Sam a little time to plug his nose before Danny dunked him under.

Sam met the shifting blur of the pale water and felt a jarring, overwhelming peace as the water swallowed all sound and sensation and he began to sink to the bottom. For a second, he thought he might like to stay there forever, just floating and free from everything he didn’t understand about what was happening to him, what had already happened. What he wanted to happen.

Sam didn’t even feel the sizzle of his lungs begging for air until he opened his eyes best he could and saw the blur of what was waiting for him up above.

Now, Sam had obviously been far too young for him to remember his baptism, but as he brought himself back to consciousness and pushed himself out of the water and into Danny’s arms, he imagined it was a similar experience. Without really thinking, his arms went around Danny’s neck and he breathed in a great, shuddering gasp, desperately filling his chest with air as Danny’s arms reflexively wrapped around him and kept Sam pinned to his chest as he coughed.

“Fuck, Sam, did you forget to breathe?” Danny whispered urgently, resisting the urge to shout and wake the other motel patrons. “I mean, pardon my French, but you scared the shit out of me for a second there!”

“Sorry,” Sam choked out as he began to control his breathing and let it give way to an embarrassed laugh. “I got distracted for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely say you were coming up on a minute!” Danny sputtered, patting Sam’s back in a last ditch effort to knock any water loose. “I’ve never seen anyone go that long underwater. Good lord. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise,” Sam insisted, leaning back to flash Danny a sincere look of assurance. Curiously, he didn’t feel the need to unlock his arms from behind Danny’s neck when doing so. In the same way, Danny didn’t feel the need to release his grip on Sam, keeping their bare chests flush as Sam comically mimicked drawing in deep breaths and releasing them to demonstrate his capability.

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Danny relented, despite the anxiety still fluttering in his chest. “Just don��t scare me like that again. I get nervous enough when you’re out of my sight, and now you’re telling me I gotta worry about you when you’re right in front of me? Phew.”

“What do you mean you get nervous when I’m out of your sight?” Sam laughed, his dark brow crinkling inquisitively as his stomach gave a little flip.

“Just worried you’ll get to wandering,” Danny replied with faux nonchalance. “Don’t want some lawless vagabond picking you off the street.”

“Ain’t that what you did?”

Danny tossed his head back and let out a loud laugh, knowing he needed to be much quieter than he was but doing nothing to rectify it. Sam burst into a round of hushed giggles and attempted to put his hands over Danny’s mouth as he shushed him theatrically. They goodnaturedly tussled for a minute before Danny finally let Sam go, pushing him back and looking away with a nervous laugh still running its course in his chest.

“I got enough law in me to keep an eye on you,” Danny continued on, flicking his wrist lightly to splash Sam. “Can’t have you leaving me to drive the rest of the way on my own.”

“Well, I only ever leave if there’s not much worth staying for,” Sam muttered. It wasn’t entirely true when considering the importance of what he’d left behind in favor of hitchhiking aimlessly in pressing Texan heat, namely his family. He felt guilty saying it, but Danny took his words with pillow softness. His laugh melted into a shy smile that fell on Sam like a kiss on the forehead.

“Lucky me, I suppose,” Danny smiled, punching Sam gently on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best to make the rest of the trip worth staying for.”

“You won’t have to try too hard,” Sam replied sincerely. “I’m having a lot of fun so far.”

“Yeah?” Danny questioned with an amused arch of his eyebrow. “You’re having fun coughing up dust in the passenger seat of a beat up truck that doesn’t work half the time? You’re having fun having to share flat, suspiciously stained motel beds with some sorry hick you met two weeks ago?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrible,” Sam laughed. “But it is fun. It’s the in-between stuff that’s fun.”

“Like what?” Danny prodded, giving Sam another playful little splash.

He asked without any real pressure, but there was a big part of Danny that really needed to know if he was making this spontaneous road trip a good time for Sam. It seemed a little ridiculous to some extent considering that when Danny set off, he wasn’t expecting any kind of lingering company in the slightest. At the end of the day, Sam was a borderline neurotic runaway that Danny had taken a chance on after some strange gut feeling had told him to take a left and not a right while driving aimlessly. But at the same time, Danny was really starting to like him. It both confused and warmed him.

“I don’t know!” Sam sputtered. “It’s always fun to look through gas stations for stupid knick knacks. That mood ring keychain was pretty cool, you have to admit.”

Danny only laughed in response. The tacky keychain had pretty obviously been for kids, but with the way Sam’s eyes had lit up when he pressed his thumb to the heat reactive surface, Danny had found that fact the least important part of the equation.

“It’s fun when the diner menus have stupid names for the sandwiches,” Sam continued, feeling increasingly more embarrassed talking about himself. “And I definitely have fun when I get to listen to my station on the radio.”

“And you can continue to have that fun in half hour intervals,” Danny asserted, trying not to roll his eyes while recalling Sam’s beloved church music station. “Anything else?”

“Hmm. This is pretty fun,” Sam answered with a quick, impish shrug. “Even though you tried to drown me.”

“Hey!” Danny scoffed while Sam sailed into another round of delighted giggles. “I’ll show you drowning!”

Danny reached out and they wrassled again, a flurry of arms and bickering laughter as Danny pretended to try and dunk Sam under the water. Once again, Sam’s arms went around Danny’s neck as they struggled, and once again he made no move to remove them when Danny slowed. However, this time around, when Sam felt the careless adrenaline fueling him with a whisper of unknown courage, he seized it and gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek. It was no more than 2 seconds of his lips on Danny’s slightly stubbled skin, but it struck Danny like a slap to the face. Sam released his grip on him and gave him a good natured smile.

“Seriously, this is so fun,” Sam insisted. “But we’ll never sleep if we keep being rowdy. Bed?”

“Good thinking,” Danny replied a little too quickly, successfully fighting a quiver in his voice and letting out a silent, choked sigh when Sam turned his back on him and started making his way to the edge of the pool. Facing away from Danny allowed Sam a moment to let his innocent, grateful gesture sink in. He began to panic slightly, rushing out a hurried mental prayer that Danny hadn’t taken it the wrong way. Sam almost turned to apologize, but decided it would be more awkward if he did, instead electing to haul himself out of the pool and grab his towel as if nothing out of the ordinary was raging inside his head.

Meanwhile, Danny definitely wasn’t taking it the wrong way. But he was taking it in a very surprising way. Feeling sudden and immense guilt, he realized that he was really going to have to book it to the hook where his towel hung in order to cover the “reaction” he was having to Sam’s little kiss. Thankfully, he was able to make it without Sam seeing. Danny felt grateful for his Southern charm when Sam finally did turn his doe eyed smile back on him and Danny was able to steer their conversation in a new direction as they walked to their room and he kept his towel tightly wound around his waist.

But neither one of them really recovered from it. Something so small and instantaneous weighed heavily in the back of their minds as they went about their separate nighttime routines and turned away from each other when Danny turned the light off.

After an infuriating hour of staring up at the flaking ceiling and listening to the muffled whistle of a keening wind outside the window, Sam finally heard Danny begin to snuffle and sigh, signifying sleep. He released a pent up sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he tried to manifest sleep. A few hours prior he had been nearly nodding off at dinner, but now that he was alone in the inviting dark with Danny, it was hard to keep his eyes closed. Usually he whispered himself to sleep with psalms that lulled him into a fuzzy, dreamless void, but it felt wrong to do so with the imagery pervading his mind. None of it was graphic, simply a replay of how it felt to float in Danny’s arms. And how safe he felt with Danny’s hand on his back. How the feeling of his mouth on Danny’s cheek made him wonder how it would feel if it were the other way. How it would’ve felt if Danny had picked that moment to turn slightly, causing Sam to catch his lips instead of his stubble.

It was shameful, but Sam felt himself tensing and carefully guiding each muscle so that he could turn over to lay on his side facing Danny’s back. Unable to lay alone with his thoughts any longer, he decided that the sight of the body next to him would be enough to quell the uncomfortable desire in his chest that was beginning to frighten him slightly. However, he was startled to find that Danny had turned over at some point as well. Sam’s heart flitted and jabbed at him from his ribcage as he took in the sight of Danny’s cheek pressed to the pillow, his mouth ever so slightly ajar as he drew in deep breaths. He was laying on his chest, and Sam fought the urge to trace the swells of muscles in his arms as they came to cross underneath the pillow beneath his head. There was a needling, demanding pull in Sam’s stomach now, one that yanked and strained the longer Sam took in the sight of Danny’s placid, perfect face in the spectral moonlight. It puppeteered him to slide a trembling hand up and delicately cup Danny’s freckled cheek. Sam felt as though he was doing something exceedingly terrible when his thumb traced a gentle journey over Danny’s skin that still buzzed with heat from his light burn. Danny drew in a big breath and released it through his nose, stern eyebrows knitting slightly in a dream as Sam screamed at himself in his head to move his hand, flip back over, and just go to sleep. Yet it seemed like such an insurmountable task now that he’d felt Danny’s breath on his wrist. Worse, it reminded Sam of the proximity of Danny’s lips to his own, only inches away and closer even to his fingers. Sam’s mind raced as he became obsessed with possibility.

His dreams were quickly dashed in a moment of blinding, white hot panic as Danny sniffed and stirred, stretching his arms slightly as his eyelids fluttered. Even with Danny rousing, Sam couldn’t find the strength to move his hand. He kept it resting with soft pressure on Danny’s cheek as he panicked about whether or not to feign sleep. All the while, Danny blinked fully and his eyes came into focus. Sam settled for a fake, heavy lidded gaze, doing his own round of “half asleep” blinking as Danny studied his expression. Danny let out an amused huff through his nose and his arm facing Sam loudly disturbed the sheets as it lifted from under the pillow and his hand clumsily tapped against Sam’s own on his face.

“You’re dreaming, Sam,” Danny mumbled, his voice low and grumbling as he fought to speak without falling asleep again. “Go to sleep.”

“Not dreaming,” Sam whispered tiredly. He watched as Danny’s hand stretched and rested fully over his own, Danny’s fingers curling a little as his eyes closed again and he began to doze.

It was such a little thing, but that pull inside of Sam snapped. There was something overwhelming him, and in his exhausted, newly freed state of mind, he saw no other option but to succumb. For the first time, when he felt the compulsion to pray for his salvation, he ignored it outright.

Shifting forward, Sam used his hand on Danny’s face as leverage to gently pull himself forward and press his lips to Danny’s. He did so with no real pressure, simply lingering as long as Danny would allow him to and trapping a shivering breath inside his lungs as his eyes closed at the relief. He fully expected Danny to spit and push him off the bed, leaving him right then and there to hop in his truck and find California all on his own like he was supposed to. His fingers pressed into Danny’s skin at the thought, holding on to him as long as he could before this impulse came back to bite him in what he was sure would be seconds.

Instead, he was met with the ginger push of Danny’s lips meeting him halfway. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and Sam could taste the lingering whisper of mint toothpaste on his breath behind the numbing warmth of his tongue, which did no more but tap momentarily at Sam’s closed lips. When Danny’s lips unstuck from his, Danny barely pulled away to speak, giving Sam the luxury of their close proximity for longer than he ever could have dreamed of.

“Now you’re just getting my hopes up,” Danny breathed with a laugh that lasted only a fraction of a second and seemed more like a punch of air from his chest.

Not really understanding what Danny meant, Sam flew into another panic. He could no longer feign a sleepy stare and blinked rapidly with restless nerves waking him up all the way. His heart pounded in his ears and he prayed his hand wouldn’t prickle with sweat from the dread beginning to course through him. All at once, he could hear a chorus of a hundred voices from back home reminding him of the great, divine consequence of what he was doing.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, his eyes immediately prickling with anxious tears. “I just…”

“I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and feeling all…you know, guilty or whatever ‘cause of something you did half asleep,” Danny murmured. He cursed his moral compass pointing him to true north, even in this miraculous circumstance when the dial seemed to be spun on its axis entirely.

“I’m awake,” Sam argued in a whisper. “That’s why I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that with you sleeping, that’s-”

“I was awake, too,” Danny replied simply. “I mean, when...”

An infuriating, tense minute passed between the two of them. There was much to be said, and also nothing at all. Too little time had passed in each other’s company to have any kind of profound feeling to confess, and yet there was a confounding magnetism that left them staring into the other’s eyes with heavy breath and rattling hearts. Danny’s hand eventually fell from where it had lain over Sam’s, but before Sam’s heart could sting with hurt at the loss, he felt Danny’s arm adjust to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. With this motion, their lips connected again, and Sam breathed in sharply through his nose as he attempted to fall into the rhythm of this disarming, second ever kiss. The matchbox capacity of the motel room and the sleeping world beyond its cracked windows were swallowed up by the fervor of Danny’s shuddering breath and the heat rolling off his skin. Sam heard the chastising chorus in the back of his conscience begin to sing again when Danny’s hand on his lower back tightened its grip. His heart hammered thinking about roaring hellfire and scores of taunting devils, but when Danny carefully rolled Sam onto his back and Sam opened his eyes, he saw only an angel.

“This sure is a step up from your little gesture in the pool,” Danny acknowledged, caging Sam in with an arm at his side and another by his head.

“I was only saying thank you,” Sam muttered sheepishly, struggling to speak with his throat so dry and his muscles so alive with flickering reactions he fought to suppress.

“What are you saying now?”

Sam fell silent. He had no experiences to draw on or words in his vocabulary to place what he felt about Danny. Kind, gracious, handsome Danny, hovering over him with the patience he doled out time and time again when lesser men would have rolled their eyes and drove off.

“I think…” Sam started, fighting to sort his scattered, uninformed feelings. “I’m still saying thank you.”

Unexpectedly, Danny’s eyes flickered with apprehension. Sam’s eyebrows knit with confusion when Danny leaned back to straddle Sam’s hips, suddenly wearing a somber expression. Sam’s bottom lip quaked and pouted as he hurriedly propped himself up on his elbows.

“What?” Sam blurted. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, fuck, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?”

“I just really hope you don’t feel like you have to…do anything for me just ‘cause I’m giving you a ride,” Danny said earnestly. ��I’d be really sore if you thought of me that way. I don’t expect a single thing from you.”

Sam’s heart gave a deep, aching clench as Danny’s words sank in. He felt his eyes nearly welling with tears again as he watched Danny look down at his hands in his lap before flicking his eyes up to Sam, probing him for a response.

“No,” Sam replied firmly, pushing off the bed to sit straight and stare up properly into Danny’s eyes. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I would never. Never ever. You should know that, Danny, come on. I, it’s just…”

He trailed off again, blushing with embarrassment as the words finally came to him, plain and true.

“I just like you is all,” Sam admitted, thankful for the shade of night to conceal the flush he knew was painting his face pink. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep apologizing when you got nothing to apologize for,” Danny accused quietly. His hands were close to shaking as he tried to calm himself down, but it was hard not to shiver at Sam’s confession.

“Sorry. Product of my upbringing, I guess.”

“Well, I got a bone to pick with a lot of things about your upbringing, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Me too,” Sam whispered truthfully.

Danny studied Sam’s face with that familiar worried look he found himself sporting every day now, taking a minute to smooth Sam’s hair back and get lost in his dark, doll-like gaze.

“I know it wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam went on with a small, shameful voice.

Danny let out an airy, one note laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes, finally plucking up the courage to cup Sam’s cheek as Sam had done to him.

“I’m not even sure what ‘the plan’ is anymore,” Danny sighed, finding it difficult to look anywhere but Sam’s rosy frown. “I know what I said, but I think deep down all I really wanted to do was go. California just seemed like the best place to start.”

“So…” Sam coaxed, unable to stop himself from tilting his chin into Danny’s grip. “When will you know where you’re going?”

“Now that I’ve met you, Sam? I think I know where I’m headed.”

Before Sam could bring up any matters of direction, of Danny’s supposed destined Californian love, or of what was to become of them as a them, Danny kissed Sam for a third time. Nothing special, nothing mind blowing. Yet with it, Sam felt every saying about the magic number, three strikes, and the Holy Trinity itself fade in comparison. And when Danny laid him down again, Sam swore he could see the stars.

The next morning, Sam sat in the passenger seat of the truck with his head hanging out the window, chestnut hair spilling behind him in the wind as the bare fields and pale blue sky rolled on by. With his shirt unbuttoned to remedy the heatwave, anyone would’ve been able to see the small, tender bruises lining his collarbone and marching down his chest. Beside him, Danny kept one eye firmly on the empty road and the other on his passenger. On a whim, he took a hand off the wheel to fiddle with the radio, adept fingers spinning the knob until a choral worship song came crackling over the waves. Sam turned his head at the music and made a fond sound, shoving Danny’s shoulder with a light push and settling back into his seat. However, after a minute of listening, Sam found himself reaching to change the station. He settled on a rock station blasting a song dripping with bass and drums, nodding his head along to it curiously as Danny shot him an incredulous smile.

“I fear I’ve corrupted you,” Danny laughed, reaching out to muss Sam’s hair.

“Good,” Sam hummed. “I needed it.”

“Yeah, you did. Just remember you promised not to go running off on me. And no bar fights. And before you ask, tattoos are a solid maybe.”

Sam laughed, pressing up against the headrest as he kicked his boots up on the dashboard and allowed himself to recline. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this might be one of the first times in his life he felt truly comfortable. It also crossed his mind that Danny’s persistent worry of Sam running off into the night was becoming increasingly more ridiculous. As he looked at the man driving next to him, who was miraculously unaware of the midday sun setting his curls and perfect side profile alight, Sam knew with confidence there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Chapter 2!

#the day i stop writing fanfics based off of ethel cain songs is the day i die #i will never stop or get better or learn #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van art #karoufiction

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hanmaitani · 6 months ago

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Give It All Up

PAIRING - Faerie Prince!Kita Shinsuke x Wingless Faerie!Reader WC - 2.1K GENRE - fluff, light angst CW - mentions of insecurity

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"Crown Prince Kita Shinsuke seems to be floating on cloud nine."

At least, according to the talk of the entire kingdom. Words are whispered from one faerie's lips to another's ears. Passed around like the hottest gossip. It's incredibly difficult for anyone to not notice how inexplicably happy Shinsuke seems to be.

The whispers talk about how he seems to always be carrying around books now. It's not that Shinsuke hadn't been studious before, but he was almost never seen without a book now. The librarians gossip about his late nights in the hidden shelves. They say he's searching for something, trying to memorize the contents of the books he finds.

And he is trying to memorize. He's trying to fill his mind with new history and topics to tell you, so he could whisper stories to you when he visits your home in the afternoons.

He is trying to search for something. He turns over every page in every book he holds. Looking for a way to give you wings of your own. It's not that he minds that you don't have wings, he doesn't. But he knows that you mind. He knows that it's a wish of yours to be able to fly on your own.

So he looks. He searches. Day and night.

"Crown Prince Kita Shinsuke has requested something unusual."

The tailors whisper among each other in hushed tones as they work in their offices. Orders have come down for new clothes for the Crown Prince. His usual orders call for all black garments and the occasional gold formal wear. Nothing but sleek elegance that was befitting of his title.

The new orders had come down with a request for the stitching. Lavender colored stitches not hold together the black cotton. They adorn the sleek garments with elegant lavender designs sewn into the fabric.

The whole kingdom whispers gossip about the usually stoic prince now with a permanent smile fixated on his lips. They try to piece together what's changed in him. The seriousness fading into gentleness.

They try not to stare too hard, too long. Try not to stare at all. They just can't seem to help it eventually. As summer fades to autumn, they're all sure that maybe their eyes are playing tricks on them. Double takes have to be done as the prince passes by.

His once pure white and gray wings have started to shimmer a different color. A thin sheen of purple now covers them from base to tip.

The whispers get louder and no one can explain the occurrence. No one can recall this happening before, one's wings changing colors past adolescence.

The only one seemingly unsurprised by this new development is the Queen Regent herself. Shinsuke's grandmother seems unbothered, she looks at the new wings fondly even.

Her unshared explanation for them comes from stories that were passed to her from her own grandmother. Something that hadn't been seen in generations. A sign of his love, his affections for a hidden girl.

Shinsuke spends his afternoons sneaking away from his duties early to find you. He adores how you look when he visits your home, the way your cheeks never fail to heat up when he greets you with the same "how is my beloved today?"

He isn't entirely sure when he started it, but he was quick to adorn you with the title of 'my beloved' and you'd since had no complaints.

He finds himself smiling more whenever he's with you in your home. Crystals that hang from your ceiling refract sunlight in rainbows across your form as you dance around the small space. Even when he isn't with you, your laughter rings in his ears, memories of how you pull him to spin with you.

He knows that he's in love.

He does the chores around your house, hushing you when you try to get up to help him.

He always laughs, ushering you back to your seat with "I know ya can do it, beloved. Ya shouldn't have ta." Kisses pressed to your cheeks as he insists; "Shouldn't need t'lift a pretty finger."

He always laughs when he says it, but he means it truly. Never wants you to live without his offered assistance again.

He's there as much as possible. But he can't always be.

When his duties force him to be elsewhere, he sends the fox spirits to watch over you. It's where he finds you today. On another adventure that they've taken you on, accompanying you into the edges of the forest.

He hears your laugh before he spots you, and even then, he hangs back for a few moments.

Your hands are tangled in the fur of one of the foxes, your front pressed against its back as it races against its companion. Your hair is caught in the wind, getting in your face, but your smile is as large as ever, your eyes squeezed shut in joy.

He imagines that he would do anything to be able to have you be this happy always. To keep the smile on your face just like that. To keep your laughter.

His wings take him towards you before he's consented to the motion, pulling him forward until he's flying next to you.

"Havin' fun out here?"

You're still laughing when you open your eyes to look at him. "Shin!" You giggle around his name and tug softly at the fur of your fox spirit, feeling it slow down under you. The second it fully stops you're flinging your arms around Shinsuke's neck with a smile. "You'll have to race with us next time!"

He smiles at you fondly, fingers picking a twig out of your hair with a laugh. "Yes. Next time I will." He chuckles and helps you gain your balance on the ground below you, lowering himself and letting his wings drop. He's gotten used to the walking by now. Happy to stroll leisurely alongside you. "Would ya allow me to show ya something?"

You eagerly nod when he outstretches his hand, following his guidance further into the forest.

He brings you to parts you never dared to wander into on your own. It was within the boundaries of the kingdom, out of your touch. It's all idle chatter as the two of you walk. Vague conversation about what he did today. Rambling about the adventure the foxes had taken you on.

You force him to pause every now and then, small gasps of wonder when some trinket along the forest floor. He pauses patiently with you whenever you request it, gathering loose twigs as you walk. You barely notice as you tuck your trinkets into your satchel. It's not until he's placing his makeshift crown atop your head that you even notice that he's been twisting the twigs into its shape as you move along.

"A crown for my beloved." He whispers as he adjusts it on your head.

You giggle and brush your fingers along it as he tucks leaves and berries into the accessory. It's lost on you it's true meaning. His imagination of placing a real crown on your head gets lost in the wind that carries both of your laughter away when you twirl between the spots of sunlight that split the shade of the trees.

His fingers dutifully cover your eyes as you both near his surprise spot, your giggles filling his ears as you trust him to guide your steps. "Okay, ready?" When the light filters back into your sight you nearly gasp at where he's brought you.

"What is this place!?" You rush forwards easily, giddily touching ceramic mushrooms just bigger than you. There's small sparkly trinkets creating pathways between them and your fingers rush to inspect them.

"There's a village," he explains softly, content to watch you jump between different areas, amazed, "a human village not too far from this edge of the forest." You look back expectantly, only to find him right next to you. He opens your fingers, having just closed over a small jewel, and takes your treasure, tucking it gently into your makeshift headpiece. "Their children come here often, leaving offerings for us."

Your face seems to glow, having never had this experience before. He lets you take it in. Helps you adorn your headpiece with the jewels you find, sticking them together with small bits of tree sap.

You're still giddy by the time that he leads you back out of the forest, back to what you've both claimed as your own meadow now. You're sighing in content as the two of you settle into the grass among the flowers in the late light of the day.

You're happy. You both are. You didn't mean to let the words slip when they did.

"I wish I could fly with you, Shin." Shinsuke’s fingers pausing mid-trace on your skin are the only things that make you realize that you'd said it out loud rather than just thinking it. "I'm sorry. I just-"

He shakes his head and pulls you into a seated position in front of him, facing away. "Sit here my beloved," he mumbles and presses kisses to the tops of your shoulders. "I'll give you wings right now."

Your head is tilted, confused, but you trust him. You let him be, only gasping slightly when you feel a cool liquid against your back. You learn the feeling to be paint.

Shinsuke is diligent with his work. Quiet as he traces the pattern onto your back. Outlines of wings that fold against your skin, the open back of your dress allowing him access to paint them folded to the front of your torso, to wrap them onto the tops of your shoulders, folding over your collarbones.

You can see the tips of them painted in metallic gold and you wish them real. Staring at them like if you wished hard enough they would unfold off your skin and take you flying with Shinsuke.

You can't see your own back, the pattern he traces onto your skin with the paint, a pattern that matches his own. You can't see the way the light filtering through his wings onto your back makes him imagine your wings matching his in color too.

You're as quiet as he is through the process, letting him work. It's only when he's paused for longer than a minute that you realized he's finally finished.

You wonder to him aloud, "are they pretty Shinsuke?"

He sighs slightly, leaning to press his lips to where the base of them would be. You shutter at the feeling. "My beloved, everything about you is beautiful." His fingers trace the outline of one, sending shivers down your spine as his lips press kisses to the outline of the other.

"Your wings would be beautiful," he admits, "but you're perfect without them." Your lips tremble as you breathe quietly, eyes fluttering under his touches. "You're gorgeous as you are. Every freckle, every single thing you call a blemish, every dip in your skin. Wings or no wings."

"Do you mean it, Shin?" Your whisper is breathless as you turn to face him when his kisses reach the tip of your shoulder. He's quick to catch your lips in a kiss. It's soft and consuming as his arms pull you against him.

"My beloved, I would give it all up for you."

The full weight of his words is lost on you. The implications that he would leave behind his crown, his title, his kingdom all for you. The things you had no idea he had. You only knew the smallest basis he admitted to. He would give up his flight for you.

"Come here." He's gentle as he pulls you back down to lay in the grass, the setting sun making the gold on your back glitter as you both lay on your stomachs. "Would ya like to touch them?"

He asks the question casually, as you lie in your meadow. The intimacy of it not completely lost on you as your fingers brush against his wings gently. They flutter under your unsure touch and you notice how content his face seems to get, eyes falling shut as he basks in the way your fingers run along the edge of his wings.

He would be yours the second you asked. He knows it. He'd give all of it up for you.

TAGLIST - OPEN

@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @qichun

#kita fluff #kita shinsuke fluff #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita fanfiction #kita shinsuke fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #𓇻 YWFYW

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uchu-no-bashira · 4 months ago

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Could you do Gyomei reacting to his someone trying (and failing) to lift his axe?

Mmm this is a cute concept lmfao.

The Axe and Flail - Gyomei!Headcanon x GN!Reader

No one told you that it would weigh a damn ton. Then again, you're not supposed to be touching it anyway, are you? To be fair, how could you not? The axe itself rested on a bamboo weapon rack, the suns light refracted from the blade of the axe right into your eyes as you waited for Gyomei to return so that you both could meditate together.

It looked so beautiful, like an artifact from a great time of war, a harbinger of destruction to any demon that dare cross it's path. It was, by far, the most handsome weapon you'd lain your eyes on in quite a while. It was very fitting for a man such as Himejima-san; Strong, massive, gorgeous.

Needless to say, curiosity got the better of you:

Weighted footsteps tread lightly through the corridor of Gyomei's home as he goes to investigate what sounded like his beloved falling over, tears of worry flowing from his eyes as the scent of steel lingers through the air, getting stronger with each step forward.

Gyomei pauses, listening intently through the rattling of a chain. He could hear the strained, determined grunts of a certain someone trying to lift what was - undoubtedly - his weapon. His eyes widen and he does a thorough examination of your state of being, determining if he should come to your rescue.

But instead of his normal, sightless, crying eyes peering through the threshold of the door; there was now a glint of slight amusement in the Stone Hashira's eyes as he listened to you. He could hear every tendon, every muscle and even the way you tried to use total concentration breathing to complete such a feat!

"Dammit! Why is this so hard??" You whisper, readjusting your grip on the handle of the axe, taking a deep breath in and pulling up with all of your might. Your deltoids pop out, two or three veins creep from either side of your face in frustration and the veins in your hands and forearms all but burst as you continue to try and lift this Godly weapon.

Chuckling softly, Gyomei finally makes himself known and approaches. He hears the thump of his axe's handle, pressing his hands together as he lifts a skeptical brow at you. The next thing that was coming was obvious, but the way it was said shocked you a little.

"Namu Amida Butsu..." He says, deep and shaken as he stifles his laughter. His beads clack while rolling around between his large palms and he addresses you with a soft, beguiling smile that you didn't often have the pleasure to see. "It seems my axe is giving you quite the challenge."

Your eyes trace the frame of his face, the vast expanse of his strong chest and down the length of his powerful arm as he reaches down to grab the handle, lifting it with ease and offering a playful smile. "Perhaps we should start with something a bit lighter?"

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny oc #demon slayer oc #kny rp blog #kny rp #demon slayer rp #black!oc #oc!kiana #drabble #for you #gyomei headcanons #headcanon #gyomei fluff is always welcomed here #gyomei fluff #fluff

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aroaceleovaldez · 7 months ago

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what powers do you think a child of arke would have? would they be similar to iris kids?

OH BOY i have thought a LOT about this. Holding my dear beloved Arke kid oc Rain. Now is her time to shine.

For Arke kids, i imagine the most common power would be having wings of some kind, or something relating to wings - just given that based on the little written stuff we have on Arke, the most notable stuff about her (besides being Iris' twin) is her wings being taken. Also I think it's fun that her wings are specifically iridescent, versus Iris' more often being described as golden specifically. With my oc, she specifically has wing-shaped markings on her back from which she can summon real wings at-will (plus general other feathers just for the aesthetic).

Besides that, definitely just general stuff related to being a messenger goddess and rainbow goddess - I imagine Arke kids would probably have similar powers to Iris kids, but maybe more subdued in some areas or specifically focusing more on double rainbows and reflection/refraction, iridescence, etc - Since Arke's thing as Iris' twin is that she's specifically goddess of the second faded rainbow when there is a double rainbow. I just really love the idea though of like, you have your Iris kids with general color/rainbow stuff, but then Arke kids are more aligned with like the rainbow sheen of oil in puddles and stuff. Rainbows in places you don't really think about. Iridescence of bird wings and beetles type stuff. Re: colors, one trait I gave to my oc for that theme is that her hair changes color like a mood ring based on her emotions. By default it's just a rainbow gradient at the ends of her hair, but it'll color-shift to match how she's feeling/what she's thinking.

I also think there's a lot of potential for stuff along the lines of like. So Iris is specifically associated with the sky/clouds and water. Arke in turn you could associate more with the earth and underground, since she was cast into Tartarus (and you could totally play with how her wings were given to Thetis, who gave them to Achilles. Maybe Arke kids have beef with Thetis/Thetis kids as a result, or just generally don't do as well around water because of her.) or due to her siding with the Titans during the original Titanomachy. Maybe Kronos as Titan of the Harvest gave her some ground-based speed buffs idk. Fun to play with. Speed as a power is a definite possibility, since Achilles wearing Arke's wings on his feet were supposed to be why he was extra fast.

Also maybe not a power, per se, but they could definitely make a joke about Romans misunderstanding who their mother is - cause both Iris and Arke are twin messenger goddesses of the rainbow, but only Iris has a Roman equivalent, and her Roman equivalent is Arcus. "Who's your mom?" "Messenger goddess of rainbows, Arke." "Arcus?" "Arke" "Arcus?" "Arke-"

In general though: Messenger/speed, colors/rainbows, and wings are definitely the big themes. In part because she has so little text about her, it actually kind of makes for a lot of room to play with stuff and work out further themes for her which is super fun.

I also have a lot of general thoughts and headcanons about Arke/Arke Kids and the Second Titanomachy/Titan Army if you wanna hear about that 👀

#pjo #riordanverse #godly parents #pjo ocs #ask #Anonymous #arke pjo #PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MY ARKE HEADCANONS I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THEM #Arke is such a fascinating mythological figure to me and she works so well in the riordanverse #me gnawing at the bars of my cage begging the fandom to make more children of Arke ocs

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paroslineage · 9 months ago

Text

I'm Home....

Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader.

TW : Blood, Reader Death, Gore, Detailed descriptions of death, Mentions of death.

This is my own original idea and the characters of JJK do not belong to me but Gege Akutami. Do not steal :/

Genre : Angst To Comfort

××××××××××××××××××××××

Original Content do not steal or repost on other platform as your own material and this is the only platform I write so If you see anything on other platforms, immediately report.

Masterlist.

××××××××××××××××××××××

It was almost in a blur, how quick it was.....

Satoru laid on the ground, waist cut in half as his legs remained standing, with his left arm cut off as he coughed up blood.

Fighting the King Of Curses wasn't a walk in the park. He gave it his all, yet was defeated by a Curse who merely even tried.

As he closed his eyes, and opens them, now he was in a field of dandelions, the most cherished flower of his Kikufuku, reminding him of what you had told what the flowers symbolized..

hope, healing, and resilience.

Qualities which you possessed before you were brutally killed off by the hands of Toji Fushiguro and forever ripped away from your dear husband Satoru.

And there on the other side is where you.

Y/N Gojo, his once beloved best Friend now Wife stood, smiling serenely, waiting for him.

You were dressed as ethereal as that night....

Wearing a mint green Kimono robe dress with an obi wrapped around your delicate,dainty waist worn with crystal mint green heels that glimmered in the refraction of the sun.

Subtle natural beautiful makeup,hair in a elegant low bun and decorated with a intricate hair stick.

It was your outfit of your wedding with the Satoru Gojo.

You wordlessly opened your dainty arms, long wide sleeves of the Kimono fluttering and swaying along with the Autumn winds and smiled widely and called out to him in a gentle timbre of voice

"Satoru..."

Satoru's heart fluttered as his beloved Kikufuku's calm and soothing voice filled the air gracing his ears, The one which he longed to hear after all that dreaded night.

...

He remembers mourning in anguish as he held your bloodied corpse cradled to his chest robbed away from him so suddenly his heart could not take it.

...

He remembers the sadistic laughter of Toji Fushiguro as it mocked him not being able to save his wife after he just got married.

...

He remembers swearing vengeance on your pitiful ,brutal death as he kissed your bloodied forehead.

...

You were robbed away from him on the night of your wedding.

and now...

He could finally rest in your arms...

Satoru closed his eyes once more, and opens them back up to make sure what he was seeing was not a hallucination, you still stood at your place looking as regal and majestic as ever.

The calm, peaceful, and kind smile on your face gave him solace, acting as a healing balm to his singed soul.

Satoru slowly rose from where he laid, to your level.

"Y/N..."

Satoru spoke waveringly and full of emotion, his clear blue gaze never wavering once from your form.

Your arms were still stretched out open for Satoru to run into and find solace.

Without hesitation, Satoru ran into your open arms like a madman, falling to his knees, burying his head into your stomach.

Both of you stood there for what seemed like forever not like neither of you minded.

Never once wanting this moment to end at all costs, before Satoru looks up at you to see your wide child-like smile still on your visage smiling down at him with nothing but fondness and love.

"Satoru ....you're finally home..."

You said with a emotional happy tone eyes becoming misty as you took in the man Satoru still looked as handsome as before and gently petted his soft alabaster hair from which Satoru teared up even more and sobbed wordlessly into your obi clad stomach.

His once and forever eternal flame was finally lost and found.

Satoru nods frantically, still with tears streaming down his pale cheeks.

Then, he got up and towered over your petite stature and kissed your forehead, cradling you firmly but lovingly in his strong muscular arms.

Nothing could hurt you, for now both of the lost, separated lovers now reunited in the realm of Tranquility and Serenity.

not now, not ever.

"My Kikufuku, I'm home..."

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #angst with a happy ending #jujutsu kaisen #tw blood #fem reader #jujutsu sorcerer #one shot #oneshots #jjk angst #comfort

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bestworstcase · 7 months ago

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do you have any thoughts on The Hunter’s Children? when i read it my immediate reaction was “this has to mean strq reunion” (and i have been banging that drum for years now) but i’m curious what you think about it

in general i read fairytales of remnant as an ozpin character study so i tend not to have STRQ at the forefront of my mind (see also: ‘the warrior in the woods’ was not originally about a silver-eyed warrior), and my immediate reaction to the hunter’s children was to look at this:

“No,” said the younger sister. “We need to study the Grimm, so we can figure out better ways to protect against them.” […] The younger sister ventured into the woods near her village and built a structure high on a tree branch from which she could observe Grimm safely. Whenever one came near, she calmed herself enough to avoid its attention while she made careful notes and sketches. But studying the Grimm in this passive state did not provide useful information about their strength and abilities in combat. […] “I was wrong. The best way to learn about the Grimm is by fighting them,” said the younger sister.

and then this:

This is one of my favorite fairy tales, and I include it here not only because its messages still resonate today—perhaps more than ever—but also because the hunter’s four children bear a striking resemblance to the four-student teams at each of our Huntsmen academies. One wonders if the king of Vale had this story in mind when he established them after the Great War.

and then exchange a meaningful glance with the corner of my brain where i just replay WOR: grimm on a continual loop and crack the fuck up. ozma modeled the curriculum of his academies on a story whose overt moral includes "scientific study of the grimm is a waste of time and useless, the right way to learn about them is killing them." and in the end killing is all that matters………

OUR marvelous capacity to learn from the experience of fighting grimm; THEIR perverse form of self-preservation making them more effective killers. salem is the funniest fucking person alive

also considering ozpin says it’s his "favorite fairytale" (and thus probably one he either made up in the first place or has retold often enough to have shaped the traditional narrative) and his CONSTANT PROJECTION,

“Because I hate the Grimm for killing your mother,” the hunter might answer. “And I hate myself for not being there when she died.” Dinner conversation was silent on those nights until one child would ask softly, “Tell us about Mother again.” And soon they would be sharing their favorite memories of her, such as her sharp sense of humor, her beautiful singing voice, and her gentle but firm hand in guiding their combat training.

<- this is about salem. or more specifically, it’s ozma’s grief and remembrance of salem refracted through an allegorical story about a man who couldn’t save his beloved wife from the grimm. (which. lmao.) and well. the lost fable begins with salem humming, and her way of teaching and training cinder is not far off from a twisted "gentle but firm" approach. that’s 2 of 3, and 3 of 3 taking into account her occasional moments of WITHERING DEADPAN SARCASM esp in narration and the "your mother said those words to me"/"hm! her again? :)" attitude she has adopted about these girls’ mother being her general and the "hm! you certainly do enjoy collecting assets!" gently ribbing cinder and the nasty "she thinks… she wants…" bit when she uses her sarcasm for evil. and "perhaps you and i can have a better working relationship :)" LISTEN TO ME. SALEM IS FUNNY. HUMOR IS HOW SHE COPES. OZMA MISSES HER JOKES…

ahem.

that said, rereading the story again i do see where you’re getting the STRQ parallels / reunion foreshadowing because yeah it’s.

younger sister: her semblance suppresses or banishes emotion with waves of "overwhelming calm," she uses it to go… live among the grimm…

younger brother: his semblance lets him hide in plain sight by closing his eyes, but grimm can still sense his presence; he stumbles around "safe" but blind until the younger sister rescues him.

older sister: her semblance leads her toward whatever she needs most, which in the story this turns out to be her younger siblings. she pledges her service to protect the village, but the grimm are so numerous and the villagers so upset that they’re forced to adopt a nomadic lifestyle to stay safe.

older brother: his semblance allows him to create a shared pool of aura between large groups of people connected by a rope; he travels around until he finds a surviving village and becomes their champion until they, too, are overwhelmed and forced to flee.

if summer willingly joined salem, then… yeah all four of these characters map very neatly onto team STRQ.

summer joined salem and learned from her how to tame / command / ally with / otherwise live safely among grimm; she’s the younger sister.

"bravado" is a description that suits tai’s character quite well, and when he’s "alone in the forest"—left by raven and summer and qrow—he winds up lost and blind, depressed, and he’s (emotionally) trapped there still, surrounded by grimm that have overrun vale and patch.

raven’s semblance links her to her family so she can always get to them; there’s some resonance too between the older sister’s leadership of the village and the branwen tribe in that the branwens need to stay on the move because, as bandits, they’re walking grimm bait. and the older sister is left behind, which is… pretty clearly how raven feels toward the rest of her team.

qrow as the older brother on the surface seems like he’s the odd one out but…considered metaphorically, the older brother’s semblance makes him weak when he is alone and strong with the support of a community, which is qrow’s emotional arc exactly; and the older brother also travels the world and (literally) binds people together, which, gestures at qrow telling yang where to find raven and bringing RNJR into the loop and so forth. also the clover pin semblance key change in v8.

…gonna put this one down as another tally in the "tai’s 'assignment' keeping him away from vacuo is summer" column.

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fountainpenguin · 3 months ago

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So, I’ve been reading Frayed Knots and I’m curious: I noticed a lot of the anti-fairies seem to talk in very particular ways - is there a cultural/developmental reason for this or is it just an artistic choice?

They're born like that! Because Fairies are "hosting counterparts" (i.e. they're the first born of the trio), their two counterparts (Anti-Fairies and Refracts) are born with "personality profiles" ingrained on them from birth. Usually, something that reflects the host.

This is why Foop can talk, play pipe organ, and has a highly specific personality from birth (e.g. In his debut, he claims he wants to be feared by all because Poof is beloved by all)

Smoke-Born Trait Thieves

The Cloudlands AU lore is that Anti-Fairies are born as smoke (and Refracts as mist). They zip across the universe, absorb information from their counterpart, and then zip back to their mother (where their newborn body is waiting).

Foop's lifesmoke narrowing in on Poof & filling his parents' castle in "Anti-Poof"

Frayed Knots Chapter 1 depicts anti-cherubs catching Anti-Cosmo's lifesmoke in a jar before he made it to his body.

Unrelated to your question, but the speed at which lifesmoke reaches the body determines fur color, with light-colored individuals getting there faster and dark ones being delayed. I talked about this in the tags of this post about Siamese cat coloration.

Foop trapped his younger brother (Smoky) in a jar when he was lifesmoke just to see if this was true. His parents were frustrated, but also... sometimes it's nice to take a breather and recover from giving birth before you actually raise the kid, y'know?

Fun Fact: You can kill an Anti-Fairy at any age and they'll turn to smoke you can trap in a jar. You can also take their limbs by trapping only some of their lifesmoke :)

Here are the profiles for the Nebula trio (and old art just for fun):

Poof - Sport-loving hippie celebrity Foop - Scientist, loner, and patient planner Poppy - Anime-obsessed pop diva wannabe

The jock, the weeaboo, and the nerd! Technically, Poppy had first dibs on stealing baby Poof's traits because she was a smidgen faster, and Foop is still bitter about it.

Shout-out to Poof slowly fading from left-handed to right-handed after Foop stole his left-handedness, lmao

You wouldn't guess it at first glance, but on paper, the Nebula trio's theme isn't "brain and brawn"- It's "storytelling!" Poof likes action movies and writes fanfics (which he chronically leaves unfinished), Foop writes scientific notes and plays (which he cares deeply about), and Poppy's into anime and oral retellings of her favorite stories.

There's also the Marigold Trio. Their theme is touch:

Goldie - Touchy-feely ambassador; "bad girl" Kelsia - Fragile "good girl" desperate for approval Drake Marigold - Track star afraid of intimacy

The Jorgen trio's theme is physical strength, the Cupid trio's is magical strength, the Sanderson trio's theme is loyalty, and H.P. and his counterparts are themed around attention.

I just think "one soul split three ways between counterparts" is neat :)

Anti-Fairy Dialogue

Anti-Fairies tend to follow stereotypes with their voice patterns. They're born of perceptions more than realism. One of the authority figures from Anti-Cosmo's youth is a personal favorite (Fast-talking 1920's salesman):

"Boy, have I ever got big news for ya, kiddo- big news. The flashy stuff, the classy stuff." With that, he shoved a scroll into my hands. I fumbled to unravel it (quietly) while he bounced up and down where he roosted. "It costs you absolutely nothing, and you have yourself an infinite amount of valuable knowledge to gain. Think of the exposure! Think of the pizazz! Keep up the pace on this here block and you'll hit the charts and turn catch of the day before you can holler a good ol' 'Hallelujah!'"

Frayed Knots Chapter 5, "Indigo Feathers"

And Anti-Cosmo's childhood best friend speaks like a pirate, so he says "Argh" and calls people "Matey" :) Both these individuals live in a castle, but they don't fit the medieval vibes... and to be fair, neither do Anti-Cosmo, Foop, or Anti-Wanda.

Anti-Cosmo's personality profile is "posh British genius with occasional idiot flashes."

- Cosmo's profile is "Shy, goofy idiot with occasional genius flashes" and Dame Cosmo's profile is "Flighty kleptomaniac." - Dame Cosmo was designed with street smarts... There's an underlying vibe of smarts being important for the Cosmos trio, and hers is something neither of her counterparts excels in.

In Origin of the Pixies, we see the Anti-Fairies - especially Anti-Sanderson - with very exaggerated accents. This mirrors the culture H.P. grew up with (The way he perceives Anti-Fairies as "foreign"). Anti-Cosmo even calls a famous writer out about this:

"Now, look here. While your writing is superb in many fine ways, I do ever so despise the exaggerated way you write Anti-Fairy accents." Kalysta blinked, like she hadn't even expected this to be an issue. I stared up at her in disbelief, now crossing my arms. Her response? "I just write them the way they sound." "Yes, well, take it from an actual anti-fairy, darling: Your overzealous use of apostrophes and misspellings to point out 'deviations' in our speech from your precious 'Fairy norm' is incredibly offensive, and I speak for many of my people when I say I wish you'd stop." [Redacted spoiler detail] "I didn't mean to offend anyone-" "Which is why I point it out, so you can write more respectfully in the future. Oh- I'm terribly sorry, luv. I didn't mean to cut you off there. Yes, go on." Kalysta reached behind her to grab a water flask hanging from the wall by its strap. She was scowling now. "No… Unfortunately, the accents are part of my established canon, and I can't just change them in future projects. My publisher expects a certain tone from me, and I try to make my stories real. It's just my writing style, y'all understand. No offense intended." I stared at her some more, the fond respect I'd once held for her going up in smoke. What? I say, would she very much like it if I began spelling Fairy accents (and only Fairy accents) out in my head in such a ridiculous way? I mean, she was a will o' the wisp, and most of the Earthside wisps spoke with the same drawl that Mickey did. Exaggerating hers for once would be simple. Bloody smoke, I don't know. Why does it seem as though Fairies insist on being… like that? Is respect for an entire population really that difficult of a thing to offer up? Come now, I don't claim to be the best at it, but surely I'm better than they? Am I exaggerating my intelligence out of proportion? Hmph.

Frayed Knots Chapter 21, "Bottled Emotions"

Hmm...

It's also worth pointing out that Foop is a combination of his parents' speech patterns- He's "clever and goofy with a British accent." The core traits of an Anti-Fairy come from reflecting their fairy counterpart, but a lot of what an Anti-Fairy is comes from their parents.

Ex: Foop doesn't get his accent from Poof- He gets it from being Anti-Cosmo's kid. However, he WAS born with it as opposed to picking it up after years of growing up. Fun Fact: Foop has conversion disorder. He inherited the part of Anti-Cosmo's brain that tells him his wing is injured, so he limps on his right side even though he personally has no injury. If you point it out, sometimes he'll correct, but it's his default instinct, so he falls into it a lot. This plays into why he likes riding in vehicles instead of flying on his own for long-distance travel. Anti-Fairies are funny like that... They're "traits grabbed from the hosting counterpart, the missing pieces filled with data taken from their parents." Lots of layers going on there.

I'm glad to hear you're reading - and hopefully enjoying - Frayed Knots! I'm hoping to post its next chapter on Friday the 13th (This next week)... Fingers crossed.

- "What exactly are the rules on how Refact personalities relate to the fairy and anti-fairy counterparts?" - I discuss how I design Fae counterparts in trios

"How many refract versions of canon characters from FOP have you thought up?" - I discuss how I design refracts, similar to how I design Anti-Fairies

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happybird16 · 1 year ago

Text

• Chapter Eight •

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forests edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, some very detailed kisses.

Chapter Length: 9.5k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: ;))))))))

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You blink to awareness with the sound of rain. It’s just a soft pitter-patter, barely audible over the flickering fire. Smothered in warmth, you realize that you're not curled up next to the fire, where'd you'd fallen asleep last night. An arm rests heavy where it's draped across your hip. Levi is cuddling you in sleep with his chest pressed flat to your back. He must've dragged you over at some point during the night. Voice rough from sleep, you ask, “Do we cuddle now?”

The cute rounded tip of his nose bumps your shoulder. Tightening the grip on your hip, he grumbles sleepily, “Your teeth were chattering.”

As the week has passed since you opened up, the storm that accompanied that moment has subsided quickly, leaving behind a lingering sense of warmth. Playfully, you tease Levi, saying, "Lies."

Dryly, he insists, "It's not. My ears are still ringing from all the noise."

Noting the change in weather, you remark, "It feels like it's practically spring." The past few days have been warm enough to melt most of the snow that had fallen just a week ago—a wet and heavy slush. Now, only dirty patches remain, clinging to the mountainside and the bases of the trees. Curious about the duration of this change, you wonder aloud, "I wonder how much longer it'll be."

Levi's curious hum is accompanied by a brief tightening of his fingers on your hip. His warm breath brushes against your back, creating a comforting sensation even through the thin fabric of your shirt. As his voice rumbles, vibrating through your chest, he suggests, "It's still dark. You should go back to sleep."

Turning your head to glance at the entrance, you notice the pitch-black darkness outside. Squinting, you can barely make out the wet streaks of rain on the stone beyond the scraggly lip. Curious about why Levi is awake, you inquire, "Why are you awake?"

Letting out a sigh, Levi replies, his forehead lightly bumping into your shoulder blade, "The giant visited not too long ago. I'm surprised it didn't disturb you. The big idiot woke me up."

During the past week, you've discovered various aspects about your companion. One of them being that he's a cuddle monster, despite his reluctance to admit it. Additionally, you've come across some surprising items hidden in the cubby below, beyond the expected soap and razor. Among them, you found a small collection of books. It puzzled you when he offered you one, as the titles didn't seem like something he would be interested in. In an embarrassed manner, he explained that they actually belong to his den-mates, who enjoy forcing the books upon him, suggesting that he should engage in something worthwhile while fighting his own biology.

Over the past few days, you've delved into "Metal and Glass," a thick tome covering various methods of handcrafting jewelry. Although the book predominantly focuses on different styles of metalworking, it stood out as the most intriguing option among the collection.

You found "Greed and Beatitude" and "An Analysis on the Refraction of Light" too intimidating to open, given their ancient appearance and thickness. Considering your options, you contemplate delving into the book on Color Theory next, hoping it will capture your interest more than your current selection. As time passes, you find it increasingly challenging to muster the motivation to reopen the book on Naga jewelry. Initially intriguing, the subject matter has failed to maintain your attention, and progress feels painstakingly slow.

On a different note, you appreciate the fact that you're once again wearing your own clothes. Levi had skillfully repaired your trousers earlier in the week. With precise swipes of his claws, he had removed the frayed edges, leaving behind large slashes in the fabric. To fill the gaps, he adorned the trousers with some pelts. The result is a striking display of long, pure white claw marks running from your inner thigh to your knee, with soft white rabbit fur bursting out from the slashes. It almost appears deliberate, as if it were an artistic statement in itself.

Levi's skill in sewing is evident as the different materials seamlessly merge, creating a flawless line without any discomforting puckered edges against your skin. Throughout the entire process, his expression remained remarkably gentle and focused, captivating your attention. Thankfully, he didn't lift his gaze, allowing you to observe him peacefully engrossed in his task. There was a sense of tranquility about him.

Now, those claw marks are the only remnants of your injury, while the skin beneath them appears flawless and rejuvenated. True to Levi's assurance, not even a scar remains. Although your ankle may still twinge occasionally if you step on it the wrong way, overall you feel as good as new. It's as if the terrifying incident never happened, and you can breathe a sigh of relief.

As the days pass, you've noticed that Levi keeps himself occupied, sleeping less and venturing out for extended periods of time now that the weather has become warmer. Each time he leaves, worry consumes you, but you always feel somewhat foolish in the end. The Maw is his domain, and he possesses extensive experience in surviving the treacherous woods. Despite occasional chill spells and stiff breezes, the overall temperature has improved, providing a relatively warm environment.

The growing depth of your affection for Levi is indeed both exhilarating and somewhat daunting. The intensity of your emotions can be overwhelming at times, as it feels almost terrifying to be so deeply connected to someone.

When he returns from his excursions, he always carries something lifeless over his shoulder. Seeking warmth, he presses close to your side, and his skin is perpetually icy, which concerns you. The two of you have primarily consumed rabbits for sustenance, although there was one morning where small fish greeted you, roasting on sticks over the fire. On his outings, he always brings a cup and returns with a handful of cranberries, which never fails to bring a smile to your face. However, you haven't mustered the courage to tell him that cranberries are terribly bitter.

While you find it challenging to maintain focus on a chapter about knots, Levi remains occupied with cleaning hides and diligently preparing them to be added to the growing mass of bedding. He has a knack for staying busy and productive, showcasing his resourcefulness.

However, one significant aspect that stands out is Levi's recurring nightmares. Although you're no stranger to nightmares yourself, you tend to be a deep sleeper once you finally drift off. In contrast, Levi grapples with both ends of the sleep spectrum. It takes him a considerable amount of time to fall asleep, and even then, his slumber is light and easily disrupted. Occasionally, you hear him hiss softly in his sleep, indicating the distress caused by the nightmares. When he wakes from these unsettling dreams, it takes a while for him to settle back down. Once Levi is awake, he tends to remain so for some time, making it challenging for him to find restful sleep.

Rising up on an elbow, you twist around in his grasp to face him. “Can I help?”

The movement causes your shirt to become awkwardly twisted around your torso. Without hesitation, Levi instinctively uses his thumb to untangle the fabric, ensuring it lies flat. However, he frowns, his fingers gliding along the gap at the small of your back, and he responds, “You don’t have to stay up.”

Levi’s concern for your well-being is evident in his words. He doesn’t want you to feel obligated to stay awake or assist him with his struggles during the night.

“I want to,” you insist earnestly, waving a hand as if to shoo away the thought. “It's not like I have anything to do during the day. I could always take a nap later.”

Levi huffs in response, pressing his face into the column of your neck. His sigh carries a mixture of reluctance and gratitude. He then asks, “Not enjoying the book, huh?”

Levi's teasing tone sends a pleasant throb through your heart, and you respond dryly, "Tell your friends to give you less boring books next time." The sensation of his bangs brushing against the column of your neck rekindles the burning desire to run your fingers through his hair. Suppressing the urge, you dig your nails into your palms, attempting to distract yourself. "Maybe something with an actual story," you add, hinting at your preference for more engaging reads.

Flopping his head back onto the bedding, Levi shoots you an exasperated look. "I think the best you're going to get is probably a historical drama," he remarks.

You remark, noting the look on Levi's face, "Sounds like you're speaking from experience." The confirmation is practically written all over his face. Expressing your disinterest, you tell him flatly, "Even a historical drama sounds more intriguing than learning about light. None of the books in my village were ever like this. Why did they give you such peculiar titles?"

Levi responds in a sarcastic tone, "Be sure to let Hange know that you didn't appreciate their book selection," his voice dripping with sarcasm. He raises a hand from your back and gestures towards you with a flick of his wrist, implying the potential reaction from Hange, "I'm sure their response to all of this," he gestures to you, "will be nice and calm."

“That sounds ominous,” you note worriedly, “is that a… good thing?”

Levi rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner, dismissing your concerns. “Just be prepared for a whole lot of energy. Your hearing is less sensitive than mine. You’ll be fine,” he reassures you, patting your back softly. “All of them are just trying to share their hobbies with me.”

You respond, acknowledging their kindness, saying, “That’s nice of them, I guess.” Curiosity piqued, you ask, “Hange’s the one who gave you the science books?”

He shakes his head, “The one on Color Theory is from Moblit.” That's another new name. You file it away for safekeeping. “What are the books you’re used to like? You mentioned that your village has a library.”

You sigh sadly, reminiscing about the small and worn building that served as your village’s library. It was located next to Town Hall, but in comparison, it was like a shack. “Most of the non-fiction books there just covered the basics of the topic, and many of them had missing pages,” you explain. “Aside from that, there were mostly romance novels and children’s stories. Not much variety. Apart from myself, not many people visited the library.”

The contrast between your village’s modest library and the assortment of books that Levi has access to is striking, highlighting the different worlds you both come from.

Levi hums knowingly, “I’m betting your town heads controlled more than just their secret room of Witch’s Tomes.”

You nod in agreement. You've had the thought before that those missing pages were probably purposely torn from the binding. “Do you have any books of your own?”

Levi adjusts his position, his arm tightening around your waist as he admits, “Not really. I’ve never been much of a reader. The books I have are mostly gifts from my den-mates. They insist on sharing their interests with me.” You can hear a blend of gratitude and slight exasperation in his tone. He then nods, his dark hair brushing against the bedding, and adds, “I didn’t bring them with me, but I do have a couple of books on the art of tea making.”

“The art of- that's interesting! I'd love to see them….” It's endearing that someone so scarred and battle hardened has such soft hobbies. Sewing and tea. The image of him immersing himself in the pages, learning the nuances of brewing the perfect cup of tea, brings a smile to your face. “I was never allowed to have any books of my own. I couldn't even take any of them home from the library.”

Levi’s gaze softens, and his gray eyes fill your heart with warmth. His thumb rubs a soothing line below your shoulder blade, and you notice the slight glimpse of his forked tongue moistening his lips.

In a gentle tone, he responds, “I have an empty shelf. You can start a collection. It won’t be too hard to move them to your place once it’s built.”

You manage to force an eager smile across your lips, masking the slight frown that tugs at the corners. While the offer of having your own shelf and sharing books with Levi is sweet and exciting, it also serves as a reminder of your looming separation, leaving a bittersweet feeling in your stomach. Pushing aside those emotions, you change the subject and ask, “I’m surprised you even had books like those. Isn't your Den small?”

Levi responds enigmatically, “Not as small as you’d think. Some of my friends would probably go insane without the library. Ours isn’t censored like yours had been. I’m sure you’ll enjoy visiting it.”

“You're making it difficult to wait until spring,” you complain half-heartedly. Levi huffs in response, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

You continue to lie on your side, observing him with a mix of admiration and affection. Your eyes trace the graceful movement of his throat as it rises and falls with each swallow, captivated by the play of firelight on his chiseled cheekbones. His fingers fidget nervously, interlaced in a loose clasp resting on his stomach. In that moment, you can’t help but marvel at his otherworldly beauty, appreciating every aspect of him, both human and Naga.

The depth of your connection with Levi is both surprising and exhilarating. While you’ve experienced fleeting crushes in the past, they pale in comparison to the profound bond you share with him. In just two short weeks, it feels as though he understands you on a level no one else ever has. The hours spent engaged in deep conversations have only served to strengthen your feelings for him. It’s a scary realization, one that you’re hesitant to fully acknowledge or articulate. But deep down, you know there’s something special between the two of you, something that surpasses mere affection.

The two of you often spend hours just talking. You like him. Maybe even more. You're too afraid to even fully form the thought.

Your eyes catch his hair once again, the dark strands splayed out messily across the light pelt below. Fingers itching yet again, you can't help yourself. “Can I touch your hair?” A surge of embarrassed heat floods your face as soon as the words escape.

In his surprise, his head jerks quickly to face you. Eyebrows raised in an open expression of shock, pink dusts along his cheeks. On his belly, his fingers twist together nervously, “Sure?”

Levi's surprised reaction and the slight blush on his cheeks only make your own embarrassment intensify. However, the permission he gives you fills you with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Slowly, you extend a hand towards his hair, fingers trembling slightly. As your fingertips brush against the soft strands, a wave of warmth and intimacy washes over you. Gently, you begin to run your fingers through his hair, savoring the softness and the sensation of closeness it brings.

It's soft. Unbelievably soft and silky. Your fingers wander, brushing through the longer strands in long sweeping motions. Eyes fluttering closed, Levi groans quietly, unable to fully suppress the sound of pleasure. The vulnerability in his expression, the way his features relax, is a sight you rarely get to witness.

Levi's response to your touch only fuels your desire to explore further. You continue to run your fingers through his hair, feeling the way it glides and tugs slightly with each movement. His body reacts, shifting closer to you, as if seeking more of your touch. It's a gratifying sensation, knowing that you can bring him this level of comfort and ease.

As your nails scratch gently into his scalp, you discover another texture—the soft scruff of his undercut. It's a contrast to the rest of his hair, but equally enticing. Levi shudders, a full-body reaction, as your touch reaches him on a deeper level.

In this intimate moment, your heart races with a mix of tenderness and desire. The connection between you grows stronger, and you can't help but wonder where these feelings will lead. It's a glimpse into the depth of your affection for Levi, and it leaves you yearning for more moments like this.

The sight and sound of Levi's response to your touch fill you with a mix of satisfaction and intrigue. It's as if this simple act of running your fingers through his hair has the power to relax him, to bring him a moment of peace amidst his usually guarded demeanor. Your own heartbeat quickens at the realization of the effect you have on him.

With a growing sense of boldness, you continue to explore the texture of his hair, varying the pressure and rhythm of your touch. Each reaction, each shudder and sigh from Levi, fuels your desire to bring him comfort and pleasure. The connection between you feels intimate and special, deepening the bond you share.

Lost in this moment, you cherish the opportunity to offer this small act of affection and care. It's a reminder of the growing depth of your feelings for Levi and the connection that continues to strengthen between you.

Suddenly, your fingers catch on something. There's a little bump high along the back of his head. It’s a rounded groove, not much larger than your fingertip. You gasp quietly, realizing what it is. A scar.

Eyes peeling open, Levi blinks slow and double lidded, eyes dragging along your face. He grunts, head shifting in your grip. “That's from a Manticore,” he explains. Hand rising, his fingers graze yours as he feels the wound as well. “Almost died from that one.”

It doesn't seem to be too deep, but who knows how bad it was for this to be it's healed form. You murmur, “I've never heard of that before.”

“They aren't too big, maybe the size of a horse, with a human face, lion body and a scorpion tail,” Levi starts, shifting back onto his side to face you. All around you his tail ripples, coiling up closer. “I was young when I fought it. I wasn't really big enough to wrap around it completely so it was a struggle. It's fucking stinger caught me right in the back of the head.”

“That's fucking terrifying.” Just imagining it has all the hair raising on the back of your neck. The massive length of his tail filling the cave around you only emphasizes how small he must have been at that point. “Stinger- Did it poison you?”

He nods, face scrunching up at the memory. “Burned like a motherfucker,” he confirms.

“You're so strong,” you breathe, not really meaning to speak aloud. Feeling a mix of admiration and curiosity, your fingers find the edge of a long scar across the curve of his right bicep. The scar feels bumpy and uneven at the edges, but the center is smooth and silvery. “What's this one from?”

Levi takes a moment to think, his eyes fluttering as he recalls the origin of the scar. "Hmm, a dragon, I think," he responds.

Your surprise is palpable, causing him to flinch. "You fought a dragon?" you exclaim.

He tries to calm your excitement by gently gliding his fingers along your shoulder. "It was young, probably a lot smaller than what you're picturing," he hastily clarifies, as if that diminishes the level of terror. "One of its talons caught me while I was taking it down."

As your mind races with images of flickering, red hot flames, you can't help but ask, "Don't dragons breathe fire?"

Levi shrugs nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed. "Naga do fine with heat; it's the cold that poses a problem for us. Surprisingly, we're distantly related to dragons," he explains.

"I can see the resemblance," you comment, your fingers gently toying with the small scales at his hip where fair alabaster skin meets glittering onyx. "I still can't believe you slayed a dragon."

Levi proceeds to elaborate, saying, "It was Wild. Dragons are usually known for their craftiness and intelligence, but this one was definitely sick. It just kept flying into the metal ceiling. Its face was already bloody and broken before I was even thrown into the pit."

Curiosity piqued, you shift your attention to the tiny nicks scattered across his abs, gently grazing them with your fingers. "What about these?" you inquire, wondering about the origin of those marks.

Levi's face contorts with a grimace as he recalls the encounter. "A Wendigo," he says. "That spindly fucker had long arms and claws like needles."

The image of such a creature sends a shiver down your spine, and you find it difficult to visualize. The only details you recall are their cold grey skin and haunting hollow eyes, described as corpse-like. Your fingers gravitate towards a deeper scar across his abdomen as you inquire, "This one? Is it from the Wendigo too?"

Levi responds with a small smirk, his eyes shining with a beautiful curiosity. “A were-cat,” he confirms.

Surprised, you ask, “Those are real?”

“No.” Levi lets out a soft laugh, causing his abs to ripple beneath your hand. The feel of it makes your mouth suddenly both too dry and too wet at the same time. The mirth in his eyes only worsens your state.

“I’m glad you can make jokes about it, at least,” you tell him with a huff. “I don't know how you survived that and managed to stay sane.”

Levi swallows heavily, his gaze distant and his voice carrying a faraway tone. “I didn’t, not really, you know that,” he responds.

Blinking, you recall that Levi had gone Wild for an unknown period of time. Sympathizing with his struggles, you confess, “Sometimes… sometimes it was a struggle for me too. My mind went to dangerous places.”

Levi's comforting hand on your shoulder brings you back to the present, grounding you in the moment. His voice is gentle as he advises, "Hey, I know. Trust me, I know. I've sort of... separated myself from that time in my life. I try not to dwell on it too much."

“It's still so fresh. I still feel horrible about the deaths that I caused..” you sniffle, wiggling closer. “I still feel my parents' blood on my hands sometimes.”

Levi offers solace, patting your back softly. "It'll fade," he reassures. "It'll fade. New memories will eventually replace them. Good ones will take their place."

“C-can we change the subject?” you ask, lip wobbling. You don't want to cry about this, not again.

Levi nods in understanding and remains silent for a few minutes, contemplating. Eventually, he breaks the silence, asking, “The man you were sold to -what was he like?”

Surprised by the question, you raise your head from the bedding to gaze down at Levi. “Zeke?” you repeat, seeking clarification. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious..” he explains, “the way you described him sounded so… disgusting. What kind of person buys a mate?”

Confusion flashes across your face as you process the term “mate.”

"It's actually not too uncommon for parents to arrange marriages or offer something in such situations. Usually, it's the other way around, where the potential suitor offers something to cover the potential loss of labor. And typically, there is prior acquaintance with the person," you explain with a heavy sigh of frustration. "But it's just... It's just that..." Your voice trails off as you flop your head back down, overwhelmed by emotions.

The weight of the situation hits you, and tears well up in your eyes against your own intention. Your vision blurs, making Levi's face appear as a distorted and wet mixture of colors. Sniffling, you find comfort in Levi's shushing and the gentle circles his thumb makes on your hip.

You let out a frustrated huff, feeling strengthened as you voice your thoughts. "They had mentioned multiple times that I should've found a husband by now, considering my age. But it's infuriating that my parents went behind my back and made a deal without my knowledge. It felt like they just wanted to get rid of me, and that hurt. Even after everything they did, it still hurt."

Doubts creep in, and you belittle yourself, saying, "I don't understand why someone like Zeke would take the offer. I'm just a random farm girl from the middle of nowhere. There's nothing special about me."

Levi's frown deepens as he absorbs your words. He seems eager to say something, but hesitates before finally speaking in a soft tone, "Do you know what he wanted from you?"

Shaking your head, you reply, "I don't know. I only met him three times, and he mostly talked about himself. He went on and on about his importance and the trade routes he managed, blah blah blah." You mimic a flapping mouth with your hand. "I didn't really pay attention to what he was saying. I was too consumed by my anger towards the entire situation."

“That's understandable,” Levi murmurs. This isn't the first time you've noticed it, but you like the way he listens. It's as if he hangs on every word, waiting calmly for you to finish before even forming his response. “I hate people like that,” he adds, “so full of themselves that they don’t realize how far their head is up their own ass.”

You hum in agreement, finding solace in Levi’s understanding. “I immediately didn't like his whole vibe. Everything about him felt like one big performance. And he was so touchy, immediately grabbing for my shoulders and my hands the moment we met. I couldn't walk anywhere without his fingers locked around my wrist.” Wrapping your fingers around your right wrist, you remember the strength of his grip clear as day. “He called me weird names too, like his ‘little acquizition’. It felt like I was a cow being sold for breeding stock.”

Levi grunts in agreement, his anger evident as his nose flares. “Sounds like a controlling piece of shit,” he remarks.

“Probably not, he wasn't even in town,” you laugh wryly. “It- it didn't feel like he was even remotely interested in me. It was weird. Felt like I was being passed from the hell I knew to something new and worse. I had no control… All I really knew is that I didn't want to abandon my entire life to end up somewhere I didn't know under the thumb of a man I didn't know or like.”

“And look at where you are now,” Levi points out smoothly.

Levi's observation brings a sense of comfort, his thumb pressing reassuringly against your hip. You let out a genuine and joyful laugh at his remark, acknowledging the positive turn your life has taken. "Yeah, only one of those things is true," you respond, your voice laced with happiness. "I'm glad I'm here." With you. You leave the unspoken part hanging in the air, too shy to voice it explicitly.

Levi reciprocates your sentiment, expressing his own gratitude. "I am too," he replies. "I'd probably be dead otherwise."

You both share a connection through the survival you found in each other's presence. "Same," you admit, reflecting on the contrast between your destinies. Fire versus ice. "I still have the ring he gave me. It's in my bag," you confess.

“Ring?” Levi questions confusedly. “He gave you jewelry?”

“It's gaudy as hell with a huge ugly stone,” you gripe. “I know others see them differently,” you explain, “as a symbol of commitment. But to me, it felt like an outward display of his ownership. The ring was so heavy on my finger that it felt like a shackle.”

Levi grimaces at the mention of shackles, hissing softly under his breath. “Why did you wear it?”

“I had to when he was around,” you explain. “I tore that fucker off the moment he was out of eyesight.”

Rising up onto his elbow, Levi squints across the cave towards the fireside, where your bag rests next to your coat. “You said you brought it with you?”

Twisting, you follow his line of sight. Naga like jewelry. “You can see it, if you want. It should be loose in my bag, probably towards the bottom.”

Sitting up with a grunt, Levi uses part of his tail to pull your backpack over to his side. After some digging, the tiny metal circle is pulled free. Pinched between two of his claws, the ring appears even thicker and uglier in his grip, the dark tarnished gold metal contrasting with the large, sickly yellowish-green Malachite gemstone protruding prominently from the frame. As Levi holds it in front of him, his face contorts with a mixture of curiosity and disgust.

You smirk up at him, relishing in the revulsion reflected in his eyes as he gazes at the ring. "See, I told you it was ugly."

"It's not that," he begins, flicking his tongue out towards the ring. "Though I don't disagree... It's just that it smells familiar."

Surprised, you sit up abruptly, eager to understand his remark. "What do you mean?" you inquire, curiosity piqued.

Levi's tongue flicks out once more, barely missing the surface of the ring. His expression contorts, a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty. "It's probably just my imagination playing tricks on me. It couldn't be possible."

You frown, feeling a tinge of disappointment. "I don't know why I bothered bringing it along. I didn't even want it in the first place," you admit, gesturing vaguely towards the ring. "If you're interested, you can have it."

“No,” he spits, still holding the ring between two fingers as if it’s contaminated. “I don’t want it.”

Looking outside, you note that it's still raining steadily. The sky seems just a tad lighter, morning light slowly filtering from above the mountain. You contemplate throwing it out into the woods for whatever little creatures scuttling about to add to their collection. “I don’t even want to see it anymore,” you confess.

Levi offers a suggestion, his tone slightly softened. “If you want, I can give it to Hange. They call themselves an inventor, but they're more of a tinkerer if anything. I'm sure the gem will be useful to them at least.”

You nod, appreciating the thought of the ring finding purpose rather than being abandoned in the woods. “That's probably better than just throwing it into the woods.”

Pulling up the layers of the bedding, he tucks the ring away in the cubby below. As he turns back to you, your eyes catch thin white lines circling around his wrists. Shackles. The realization dawns upon you, realizing the sensitivity of the topic you had unknowingly touched upon earlier. A wave of regret washes over you, feeling foolish for bringing it up.

As he starts to twist back to lie by your side, you seize his wrist, halting his movement. Your fingers trace the white streak along his delicate wrist, feeling the surprising smoothness of his skin despite the lingering scar. Its faint visibility and flatness blend seamlessly with the rest of his complexion, a testament to his remarkable healing ability. A sense of relief washes over you, grateful that he has fared well in that regard.

"I'm sorry that you had to endure all of that on your own," you express sincerely, your voice filled with empathy.

Levi hesitates, his admission emerging with evident difficulty, as if each word is a struggle. His chest rises and falls with a heavy sigh, and he eventually withdraws his wrist from your grasp. "I wasn't always alone," he confesses, his tone tinged with a mix of melancholy and strength. "I was just the one who managed to survive the longest."

You observe Levi’s struggle to speak, sensing the weight of his words and the emotions behind them. Concerned for his well-being, you offer understanding and give him an out, not wanting to push him if it becomes too overwhelming. “You don't need to tell me if it's too much-”

However, he waves away your worry with a raised hand, indicating his willingness to share. “Only breeders were kept alone,” he begins, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness. “I wasn’t one of them.” There’s a palpable pause, heavy with an ominous implication that hangs in the air. Yet. “Fighters, like me, were kept in larger, communal cages,” he continues, his tone tinged with a mix of resignation and reminiscence. “There was no privacy, and others constantly came and went. Most didn’t survive beyond a single fight, but…” His voice wavers, and he closes his eyes, releasing a weary sigh. “Two… two managed to endure longer than the others. A couple of years. We grew close.”

As you gently pat his arm, offering comfort in your touch, you acknowledge his statement. “You made friends,” you observe, recognizing the significance of those connections in such a harsh environment. “What were their names?”

Levi’s reply carries a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. “Furlan and Isabel,” he reveals. “They were more than friends, really. They were like family to me.” His voice trembles slightly, laced with the pain of recollection. “When they eventually got injured, I tried everything to save them, to stop the bleeding…”

Not again. This can't be happening again. A wave of realization crashes over you as the pieces fall into place. The gravity of the situation hits you hard. “They died,” you utter, your voice heavy with sorrow and understanding. The echoes of his earlier words resonate within you, and the thought of him enduring such loss once again fills you with a profound sadness.

Levi’s eyes reflect the weight of his past as he nods, his sadness palpable. “They weren’t Naga, so their healing was slow,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mixture of grief and guilt. “I held them in my arms as they bled out, one after the other.”

“I'm sure you did your best.” Realizing the inadvertent reminder of his painful memories, you offer a heartfelt apology. “I’m sorry. I know you try not to dwell on those moments, and yet here I am, bringing them up again. I didn’t mean to keep reminding you.” Regret fills your words as you express your sincere remorse.

Levi gently interrupts your apology, his voice carrying a touch of reassurance. "What have I told you about apologizing? Not all of those memories are bad," he points out. "The humans would leave us alone for stretches of time while we were healing, and there were moments of peace amidst the suffering. Remembering those bits brings some solace."

Intrigued by the glimpses of tranquility he experienced, you express your curiosity. "Like what? What are some of the moments you remember from those times?" you ask, eager to hear the fragments of solace that reside in Levi's heart.

Levi's face softens with a bittersweet smile as he reminisces. "Izzy, she was a Harpy. Much younger than Furlan and me," he recalls. "She had this playful habit of plucking her feathers and sticking them into Furlan's fur while he was asleep. It became a little game for her, trying to see how many she could place before he woke up. And let me tell you, that Lynx was always furious once he opened his eyes."

You can't help but laugh at the image painted by Levi's words. "They sound like they were a lot of fun," you remark, enjoying the lighter memories that bring a sense of warmth and camaraderie to the forefront.

Levi's nod carries a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. "For a while, it felt like we were a team, standing together against the world," he recounts. "They would be taken away for fights, but they always returned with only a few scratches. We would swipe extra food from the guards, making plans to escape that place. The plans were probably silly and unrealistic, but Furlan had a keen mind and a keen eye. It gave us hope... a glimmer of a future."

His voice wavers with emotion as he continues, his words heavy with grief. "But then, one day... everything changed. They both returned, but this time missing limbs. And I was left alone. Their bodies were taken away for harvesting, even before they had a chance to grow cold."

By the time Levi finishes speaking, his voice cracks and his eyes well up with tears, the pain of loss and abandonment raw and visible. It's a moment of vulnerability that he shares, allowing you a glimpse into the depths of his sorrow.

“Levi..” Understanding the depth of Levi’s pain, you instinctively pull him closer, wrapping an arm around his back and offering comfort without words. You don't apologize, even though the words burn right on the tip of your tongue. Instead you just let him press his face into your neck for several moments. His shoulders heave and you feel a wetness there, but you hold him without judgment or comment.

As you both find solace in each other’s presence, you become aware of the soft morning light gradually illuminating the horizon through the cave opening. The colors of dawn paint the sky in hues of peach and pink, signaling the beginning of a new day. A gentle sigh escapes your lips as you remark, “So much for talking you back to sleep…”

“Wasn't going to work anyway,” he sniffles quietly, pulling away from your neck. “You know that.”

“Let's at least talk about something happy next time,” you pat his back softly. You take a moment to appreciate his beauty, even with traces of tears lingering on his face. There’s a certain grace to his features, the faint pinkness around his eyes adding a touch of vulnerability.

“Sure,” he replies earnestly. However, his attention suddenly shifts, and he yawns, exposing his sharpened teeth in a display that is both charming and slightly intimidating. His gaze drifts past you, capturing something outside.

Following his line of sight, you turn your head and see it. Flakes of snow dance through the air, creating a serene and magical scene. “It’s snowing,” you remark, a smile tugging at your lips. The sight brings a sense of wonder and delight, momentarily shifting the mood to something lighter and filled with beauty. It's just a light dusting. The temperature must've dropped, turning the steady rain into a sudden flurry. You frown, “So much for the warm streak.”

A sharp, cold breeze cuts through the air, prompting Levi to seek warmth and shelter in the familiar embrace of your neck. His tail coils around you protectively, creating a comforting barrier. “It won’t last,” he reassures you, his voice carrying a hint of optimism or perhaps a recognition of the approaching shift in weather. Considering his ability to sense the last storm beforehand, it’s possible that he has an intuition for such changes.

“Hopefully this is the last snow. Spring can’t be that far off,” you express with a hopeful tone. In response, Levi tightens his grip on your hip, his nails gently pricking against your skin. It’s a subtle gesture, but it speaks volumes.

“Mhmm,” Levi mutters tiredly into your neck. His nose unintentionally brushes against the column of your throat, a momentary connection that goes unnoticed by your fatigued mind. Unlike your companion, the cold weather might not be enough to induce tiredness, but the warmth and weight of Levi’s presence cause the lingering exhaustion from earlier to surge forward.

With heavy eyelids and a weary mind, you find yourself succumbing to sleep, finding solace in the comforting embrace and the intimacy of the moment. The accidental brush of Levi’s lips against your throat becomes a fleeting sensation, a mere fragment of the shared closeness between you.

Heavy eyed, your tired brain barely processes the accidental bump of his lips to your throat.

A memory you had forgotten suddenly floods back into your consciousness, emerging in fragments. Sensations of pain, warmth, and wetness mingle together, and the feeling of fingers pressing against the column of your throat becomes vivid. Lips pressed urgently against your own, their urgency palpable. Breath and tongue intertwining with a frantic sense of passion. The taste of iron, a metallic flavor that lingers.

Realization dawns upon you, and you can't believe you had forgotten. "You kissed me," you express, the words escaping your lips with a mix of surprise and understanding. The weight of the memory resurfaces, bringing with it a swirl of emotions and questions.

Levi’s head shoots back in surprise, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink hue. His eyes widen, brimming with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, as he struggles to meet your gaze. “You remember,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a blend of relief and uncertainty.

You start to express your disbelief at having forgotten the kiss, your voice tinged with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “I can’t believe I forgot,” you begin, your words trailing off as you struggle to comprehend the reasons behind his action. “I was dying, why would you-”

Levi interrupts you, his voice shaky and hurried, as if attempting to convey his thoughts before they slip away. “It… it wasn’t like that,” he stammers, his words laden with sincerity. “It was to help you heal.”

That's what you had suspected, and now it becomes clear. "Heal me?" you repeat, seeking confirmation.

Levi's voice trembles as he rushes to explain himself. "My saliva heals, you know that," he says, the uneasiness evident in his tone. "I had to get it into your system. I've never tried that before, but I didn't know what else to do."

The memories flood back, each detail etched vividly in your mind. You recall his urgency, the unmistakable worry in his voice. His fingers holding the base of your skull had trembled despite his attempt to project confidence. He had been desperate to save you, someone he had barely known at that point. It dawns on you how deeply he cared, even in those early moments of your connection.

Feeling a surge of confidence in the face of Levi's anxiety, you hold his gaze firmly, your words pouring forth with surprising ease. "I like you."

Levi's reaction is immediate. His jaw drops, his lips forming a perfect round 'o'. His eyes widen, accentuating the intensity of his stormy grey irises. The fingers that press against your back and hip tremble noticeably. He stammers, struggling to find his words. "I-" he begins, his voice strained. He takes a deep, heavy swallow. "Shit."

Your confidence wavers, “You don't-”

“No. No,” As Levi hurriedly interrupts you, his thumb pressing firmly into your hip, you feel a rush of relief. The deepening blush on his cheeks and the rosy tone of his skin reveal his own vulnerability. The pointed tips of his ears glow with warmth, mirroring the emotions stirring within him. “I’ve just- I’ve never done this before,” he confesses, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and sincerity.

The realization that he feels the same way fills you with a comforting warmth. The connection between you seems stronger than ever, and your chest swells with a sense of joy and contentment.

As you cup Levi's jaw and pull his lips closer, a hint of anticipation fills the air. Your tongue darts out to moisten your own lips, and his gaze becomes fixated on the subtle movement, almost as if entranced. "Do it again," you whisper, your voice filled with a mixture of desire and longing.

His throat bobs as he swallows heavily, the intensity of the moment palpable. His eyes remain locked on your lips, and his chin dips forward, inching closer to you. But before anything more can happen, he breaks the silence with a plea in his voice. "Don't..." he begins, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking away, "...don't choose me because I'm it. Because I'm the only option."

You feel a surge of tenderness for him, understanding his fear and vulnerability. With a gentle touch, you caress his cheek, guiding his gaze back to meet yours. "Levi," you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity, "I choose you because of who you are, not because of any circumstance. You're not just an option, you're the one I want."

Levi's eyes search yours, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. And in that moment, you both find solace and reassurance in each other's presence.

As your fingers intertwine in Levi’s hair, his heavy-lidded eyes flutter beneath your touch. His expression reveals a mixture of longing and vulnerability. “I’m choosing you because you’re you,” you begin, your voice filled with sincerity. “You call me kind, but you’re the kind one. Kinder than anyone I’ve ever met. And you care…”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash into yours. It's messy and hesitant. It’s a tender and exploratory kiss, filled with a gentle longing. The angle is awkward, noses bumping against each other, but the intensity of the moment overrides any clumsiness. Eyes pinched closed, you feel the warmth of his exhale as his nose blows a puff of hot air into your cheek from where it's mashed against your own. The world around you fades as a pleasant buzz fills the back of your head, amplifying the connection between you.

“Mhmm.” A soft moan escapes your lips, expressing the pleasure and desire that courses through you. Levi responds with a low groan, momentarily pulling back, but your grip on the back of his head prevents him from retreating too far. With a longing and hunger, you draw him back in, capturing his plump bottom lip between yours and sucking on it gently. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity through your bodies, deepening the intimacy and igniting a growing flame of passion between you.

“Shit,” he moans, chest heaving against your own. Lost in the intensity of the moment, Levi's moan reverberates through your connected mouths, echoing the depth of his desire. His chest rises and falls rapidly against yours, mirroring the racing rhythm of your own heartbeat. There's an unapologetic rawness to his kisses, a desperation that fuels the urgency in his movements.

His lips work fervently against yours, the sound of his groans serving as a melodic backdrop to your passionate exchange. The pressure of his nails digging into your shoulders is a mixture of pleasure and possessiveness, fueling the fire that burns between you. With one hand cupping the back of your head, he kisses you with an insatiable hunger, exploring every inch of your mouth as if searching for a deeper connection.

As you suck on his bottom lip, teasing the plump skin with your teeth, his loud groan reverberates through your bodies, sending shivers down your spine. The sound resonates with a primal energy, intensifying the already intoxicating atmosphere. Your heart races, consumed by the overwhelming emotions coursing through you.

"Levi," you murmur breathlessly, a mix of longing and adoration in your voice, encapsulating the depth of your connection in that simple utterance.

A long and whiny exhalation of your name comes in response. You can feel his fangs, you realize. Two hard lines that press into your bottom lip. Savoring the sensation of his fangs pressing against your bottom lip, you become acutely aware of the primal edge to your connection. It’s a subtle reminder of his nature, a thrilling mixture of danger and desire. With your tongue peeking out, you trace the length of one fang, feeling the hardness beneath your touch. The anticipation builds as you press your tongue between his lips, inviting him to taste you.

Levi gasps in response, his long lashes fluttering against your cheek. The heat and wetness of his mouth engulf you, intensifying the intimate exchange. His moans escape freely, a testament to the pleasure coursing through his veins. The fingers cupping the back of your head tremble with desire, their grip tightening on your hair, combining pleasure and urgency.

As his tongue meets yours, a new layer of intimacy is unveiled. His tongue, thinner than yours, slides slowly against your own, exploring the contours of your mouth with deliberate movements.

The pink muscle laps searchingly into your mouth, curiously gliding along the blunt edges of your teeth. You like the way he groans into you, filling you with passion and hot breath. The relentless exploration of his tongue within your mouth fuels your desire, amplifying the intoxicating connection between you. You relish in the sensation of his warm, searching muscle gliding along the edges of your teeth, a mingling of curiosity and passion. The way he groans into the kiss sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

Levi's hold on you is both possessive and tender, a delicate balance of strength and care. His tail wraps tightly around your waist, creating a sense of closeness and security. Encouraged by his response, you reciprocate with equal fervor, pushing the kiss deeper, immersing yourself in the sensation of his soft tongue against your own. Each of his teeth, sharp and pointed, adds to the thrilling intensity of the moment.

The taste he carries, a blend of darkness and danger, entices and captivates you. It's an alluring essence, a mysterious and masculine flavor that stirs your senses. The desire for more of him, for that enigmatic darkness, consumes your thoughts. Eagerly lapping at the sensitive underside of his tongue, you revel in the way his entire body quivers against yours, from the tip of his tail to the fingertips that hold you so intimately. The shared passion and pleasure bind you together, creating a moment of pure connection and desire.

Levi’s gasped plea against your lips resonates with a desperate intensity, mirroring the fervor that fills the air between you. As he pulls away, leaving a lingering and shallow kiss on your lips, you notice the delicate shade of pink that flushes his cheeks, contrasting against his normally composed demeanor. “C-careful,” he advises shakily. His eyes, once soft grey, now smolder with a dark and heated intensity, like swirling smoke that dances with desire. “My teeth are sharp.”

His shaky warning about his sharp teeth doesn’t deter you. In fact, it only adds to the allure, igniting a teasing spark within you. You brush your nose against his with a playful gesture, savoring the heightened anticipation that courses through your veins. “Do you not want me to press in?” you inquire, a touch of mischief lacing your words.

Levi’s response is quick, fueled by a mix of desire and concern. “No,” he breathes, his voice laden with urgency. “Just don’t want you to get hurt.”

The realization dawns upon you—he enjoys the intensity of you taking control, tempting the sharpness of his teeth. The embarrassed flush that rises along his cheekbones serves as evidence of his pleasure. With a reassuring smile, you make a promise to him. “I’ll be careful,” you assure, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Leaning forward, you capture his lips once again, savoring the way he shudders against you. His tail, a tangible symbol of his desire, tightens around you in a needy throb, further fueling the growing intensity between you. In this moment, you both find solace in each other’s touch, exploring the depths of desire and connection that have blossomed between you.

Sucking hungrily on his bottom lip, the sound that escapes Levi's mouth is scandalously loud, resonating with raw desire. It's as if his entire being craves the sensation of your lips against his. His mouth readily opens, inviting you in, and the slide of your tongues becomes an urgent dance of passion. It's a mix of countless little kisses and one long, intoxicating embrace, the boundaries blurring as the intensity between you heightens. The result is a deliciously sloppy kiss, leaving your chin coated in a thin layer of moisture.

Levi's movements become more assertive as he rolls onto his back, pulling you over him. His eagerness is palpable in every little hum and groan that escapes his lips, spurring you forward with a sense of urgency. Moaning loudly, his hips rise from the bedding, crashing hard against your own in a desperate rhythm. Your heart thuds in your chest, matching the fervor of the moment. In the midst of this passionate exchange, you become acutely aware of the heat radiating through your body, pooling at your center, and the growing wetness between your thighs. The sheer intensity of the connection between you fuels a primal desire that cannot be denied.

Levi’s head falls back against the bedding, his chest heaving as he pants for air. His expression is a mix of daze and vulnerability, making him look even more captivating with his darkened eyes and swollen lips. The disheveled state of his hair adds to his allure, and you can’t help but smile down at him, your fingers gently attempting to tame the wild strands.

“I’m probably shit at this,” he admits, his voice laced with uncertainty.

“You’re not,” you assure him, your smile growing warmer. His anxious fingers trace circles into the skin beside your spine, a clear sign of his nerves. “I’m guessing you don’t have a lot of experience?”

Levi’s cheeks flush with a deeper shade of pink, his gaze shifting slightly. “No, not really,” he confesses softly. Levi's worry is evident as his lips purse and his gaze shifts slightly. His self-consciousness tinges his confession, "Should've been obvious with the way I fucking missed at first."

You cup his chin gently, your thumb brushing across his lips in a soothing gesture. "The angle was just bad," you reassure him, trying to alleviate his concerns. "To be fair, I'm not too much more experienced than you." Your honesty shines through as you admit, "Just a handful of kisses here and there, mostly during my teenage years."

Levi's tense expression softens, and he looks at you with a mix of relief and curiosity. "Really?" he asks, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

You nod, offering a reassuring smile. "Really. We can explore and learn together, taking things at our own pace."

His shoulders visibly relax, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I like that idea," he says softly, his voice filled with a newfound sense of excitement and comfort.

“I didn't know it would be like that,” Levi exhales softly, his eyes fluttering closed as he reflects on the intensity of the moment. Unable to resist the urge, you gently smooth back his bangs, your touch conveying comfort and affection. Eyes fluttering open, he licks his lips, humming at the lingering taste of you.

His hand glides down your back in a single, sweeping motion, leaving behind a trail of warmth that elicits a fond sensation deep within you. It’s a touch that speaks of familiarity and tenderness, making your heart buzz warmly in your chest. Eager to be even closer to him, you wriggle closer and rest your head high on his chest, finding solace in his steady heartbeat. Planting another quick kiss on the swell of his throat, you cherish the closeness and the connection you share.

Curious to know his thoughts, you ask, “Like what?”

“Overwhelming and sort of dizzying.” Levi shifts, his arms encircling you in a tight embrace, pulling you into his comforting hold. As the bit of his tail that was wrapped around your waist loosens, it delicately moves to coil around your legs, creating a soft clasp. With a hint of playfulness in his voice, he suggests, “Maybe you are a witch after all.”

You laugh, a soft and genuine sound, as you pat his chest affectionately. "It was the same for me," you say, a warmth filling your voice.

Levi swallows audibly, his eyes fixated on your lips. The desire in his gaze is evident, and his hesitance is tinged with anticipation. With a slight nod of his chin, he silently communicates his yearning, seeking permission and an invitation to continue the intimate exchange.

Smiling, you raise your head to barely meet his lips, your breath mingling in the small space between you. The kiss is soft and teasing, a gentle invitation to explore further. "We have nothing else to do today," you murmur, feeling the cozy atmosphere inside as a stark contrast to the raging snowstorm outside. "How about we practice?" you suggest playfully, emphasizing the word "practice" with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

#levi ackerman #naga!levi #levi x reader #levi/reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #fem!reader

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