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perseephoneee · 1 year ago

Note

Pls write about damon salvatore x y/n going skiing

ski cabin (damon salvatore x f!reader) {ficmas 2023}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 10 of ficmas!

warnings: damon, smut (i censor it so you can skip!): fingering, blood-sharing, unprotected vamp sex

a/n: i tried writing smut. might be a failure. might not. i have no clue. i just work here. also i wrote this while watching the matrix and eating homemade nachos

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

Once upon a time, your life resembled a sense of normalcy. And then you met the Salvatores. Vampire brothers who seemed to attract trouble no matter where they went, and somehow, they had clung themselves to your life. You would love to blame Elena for this. Still, truthfully, you also had a fascination with their propensity for idiocracy and probably landed in this situation alone. The situation? Being a target for whatever big bad it was this week.

It was decided that people should split up to minimize their chances of being caught. Unfortunately, you ended up with Damon Salvatore. Damon was the oldest of the Salvatore brothers and the most annoying. He was morally grey, somewhat self-serving, and handsome in a way that should be illegal. Sometimes, you thought he might be fond of you, but then he'd say something sarcastic and mean, and you'd remember why you loathed being around him. Since everyone split up, you and Damon opted to go to one of the nearby mountains, ending up at some ski lodge that some families would use more for vacation than for hiding. It was snowy, and the ice bit your cheeks as the wind tried to push you back aggressively. You sighed in relief when you finally got to the resort lodge and could breathe warm air. Annoyingly, Damon was barely frazzled.

"We should ski," Damon said to you. You brushed your fingers through your hair, trying to get snow out as you glared at him.

"I don't ski."

"Quitters talk," Damon sighed, taking in his surroundings. "Besides, what else is there to do? Besides each other." He whispered that last part to you, that stupid half-smirk on his face. You slapped him in the arm. He was a compulsive flirt at the worst of times. He also loved to ignore you when you expressed disagreement with what he said. So, he rented skis (he had no money, so you guessed compulsion) and forced you to suit up. You tried biting him when he attempted to help you, but you think that only added fuel to his fire. Waddling outside was even worse, as you relied on him most of the time. Looking at the snow-capped hills made fear grip your heart. You wished that the enemy would just kill you already. "Why do you look like you're going to throw up?"

"I don't like this."

"It's fun. We could be brooding in a cabin like my brother, but instead, we're in the great outdoors," Damon laughed. You tried shifting on your skis but felt your knees lock up. "Seriously, what's your problem?"

"I like having control over whether my body is going to eat shit or not."

"You and your control," Damon grumbled. "Y/N, learn to live a little." Shockingly, Damon was weirdly patient with you as he showed you the basics of skiing. He even helped you down the bunny slopes with minimal teasing. He taught you how to pizza, and when you felt yourself start to slip, he'd grab you and hold you upright. It was one of the few times where you weren't sniping at each other the whole time and instead actually having fun. Your body was exhausted when you returned to the lodge, and you were thankful to take off all the warm and heavy gear. Unsurprisingly, Damon immediately got himself a glass of bourbon. You got a hot chocolate and enjoyed picking the whipped cream off with your finger and licking it off. While you enjoyed your dessert, Damon went to find an available room in the lodge. He came back a few minutes later with a devilish smirk on his face.

"I don't like that look," you mumbled, sipping more hot cocoa.

"Guess what, princess? The only room left is a single bed," Damon fell next to you on the couch, throwing his arm around you against your protests. "Guess we'll be sleeping together after all."

"You're ruining my quality hot cocoa time," you hissed, pulling away from his arm. He just laughed, as he never took your threats that seriously. Why should he? You were human. He was a vampire. It was an unfair fight.

You hadn't packed much when you ran, so you just tossed your backpack in the corner of your room when you got there. It was a queen-sized bed, at least, with an ensuite bathroom and winter cabin appeal. There wasn't a couch, just a scratchy-looking chair. You could sleep on the floor.

"You're not sleeping on the floor," Damon said behind you, almost scaring you half to death.

"I didn't say anything."

"I can hear you thinking," Damon muttered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at his proximity. He went to the lounge on the bed, laying back against the pillows, every bit emulating Adonis with how he wrapped his arms around the back as his face caught the light streaming through the window. Sometimes, you wondered whether Damon's favorite form of torture was just being the object of desire that was unattainable. Yes, he drove you up a wall, but you weren't stupid. He could be loyal when he wanted, and his body alone was sculpted by some vain artist who wished to achieve perfection. You could see his arm muscles, the sunlight dancing across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and his lips. His eyes were the color of the sky reflected on the snow, a dangerous blue. Like a wolf just waiting for its prey to slow enough to make its bite. "Admiring the view?" he purred, turning to look at you.

"Admiring a view, not necessarily you." You stepped closer into the room, removing the scarf and jacket around your neck. You kicked off your boots, leaving you in just your sweater and jeans. You pretended not to notice him watching your movements. There was a desk against the wall; you sat at the chair and faced Damon, curling your legs up under you.

"You're scared of me," Damon said, turning back to face the window.

"Am not," you huffed.

"You think I'm gonna bite you?"

"Yes," you answer plainly. Frankly, you had yet to learn where you stood with Damon. Sometimes, he treated you like garbage; other times, you thought he would give up everything to protect you.

"Come here," Damon sat up, moving to the end of the bed. You look at him with confusion. He huffs in frustration, grabbing you and pulling you onto the bed with him. You fall against the pillows with a yelp, glaring at the vampire as he sits back next to you. "I would never hurt you."

"You're not always the nicest," you mumble. "Sometimes I can't tell."

"Y/N, look at me," Damon grabbed your chin, forcing you to face him. "I'm damaged goods, but don't think that I would agree to hide out here with you if I didn't care. I do care. A lot." He brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch gentler than expected. "The best thing about returning to Mystic Falls was meeting you."

Damon was never a subtle person, and he doesn't try to be one now as he leans down and kisses you. His hand cups your face, tilting your head back so he can deepen the kiss. You let out a sigh of contentment, which just fuels him further. He tasted like bourbon, and you found you enjoyed it.

*smut!!! proceed only if you want to*

Your hand found its way to his hip, fisting the fabric as he moved to be above you. He was assertive but not rough, and it was something you appreciated. His hand dipped under your sweater, feeling its way to your waist and under your breasts. You let out a gasp as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving nips and kisses and, most likely, many marks. Your hand flew up to his hair, gripping the raven locks and causing him to growl.

"You drive me crazy," he mumbled, helping you pull your sweater over your head. He kissed you again, his hand running over the smooth skin of your stomach. He pulled away when you shrank back, hesitant. "You're beautiful, don't worry." He dropped down, kissing over the expanse of your belly, helping you feel more comfortable. He kissed his way up to your bra, for once looking unsure. You gave him a smile as you sat up, reaching behind to unhook your bra and toss it aside. Damon wasted no time planting kisses and licks over, under, and in between your breasts. The moan you let out was embarrassing, but Damon was just encouraged. He came back up to your lips, his fingers still playing with your nipples.

"I see you like my mouth now," Damon whispered.

"I hate you," you kissed his jaw, leaving bites down his neck. It was your turn to smirk when he became the one making noises. Your hands ran under his shirt, feeling the muscles in his shoulders. He sat back to remove it, and you spent a second admiring his figure. The both of you feeling impatient, you pulled off both your pants, so you were left in your underwear. Damon flicked the waistband of your grey panties with a bow in the middle.

"Cute."

"Do you always talk this much?"

"Only to girls I like."

You rolled your eyes, smiling at the boy as his hands ran up your thighs. You pulled him down for a scorching kiss, already addicted to his lips on your own. One of his hands ran between your thighs, lightly touching your clothed center. You hissed into his mouth, and he only smirked.

"Can I remove these?" Damon asked, looking at you. You nodded, shirking them so you were completely bare. You felt so vulnerable and yet comfortable in his presence. You sighed in pleasure when his finger found your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure to make you crazy. When he entered you with his fingers, his thumb replacing the gentle motions on your clit, you let out a moan that was almost pornographic. You buried your head in his neck as he pumped his fingers in and out. If his touch was this heavenly, you weren't sure you were capable of learning what else he could do. You moved your hand to his briefs, but he nipped your jaw as a warning. "No touching." He removed his hand, leaving you feeling empty and disappointed. You were about to deliver a sarcastic retort. Still, it died on your tongue as he removed the last piece of clothing, and you were faced with his better-than-average member. Damon grabbed your calves, pulling you farther down the bed and situating himself between your thighs. He kissed you hard, lining himself up before pushing in slowly. The stretch was a lot, but the pleasure overrode it as you felt your head drop back in a moan.

"Fuck," you swore, wrapping yourself around him as he started to move. He fit you in a way you hadn't experienced before, and you weren't sure who you'd become when he left you empty.

"I should've done this sooner," Damon groaned, kissing your neck and shoulder. He let out a hiss of pleasure when your nails scraped across his shoulder blades. He pulled out, sitting back against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap. He helped you sit back down on him before you had time to complain about the temporary emptiness. His hands grabbed your thighs, helping you bounce on him. Both of you moaned, and your head fell back as you fell into a rhythm.

"The sight of you coming apart on my cock, tits bouncing, is the best thing I've seen in my life," Damon smirked, leaning forward and attaching himself to one of your tits. You had no clever retort, nothing to match the sense of euphoria you were experiencing. You noticed the veins under Damon's eyes and used your thumb to brush them gently.

"You can bite," you whisper, eyes widening at the dark overtaking his eyes, but you aren't scared. He didn't go for your neck like you thought; no, he sunk his fangs into the top of your tits. One of his hands gripped your hip, the other reaching between your legs to circle your clit. It was so much pain and pleasure at once that you raced towards a finish you had been nearing for a while. You came with a shout, head falling onto Damon's neck. He came after you, fangs detaching and a growl leaving his lips.

*end of smut*

You separated, falling to rest next to Damon. He pulled you into his side, biting his wrist and touching your lips. You accepted the blood hesitantly, letting it coat your throat before pulling away. He kissed the top of your head, one of the most domestic things you had ever experienced.

"Damon," you whispered, tracing his chest with your fingertip. He looked at you in question. "I would be open to being yours." You see a boyish smile on his face, something that makes him look the age he was turned and not the age he is now.

"I think that can be arranged," he said, kissing you again.

The next day, he took you skiing again, but you kissed at the bottom of the slope this time.

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore imagine #ian somerhalder #tvdu #tvd #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #my writing #ficmas 2023 #12 days of ficmas

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

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Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-eight: "The Birthday Brunch"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt meet up with your friends for Marci's birthday brunch.

Or The pair of you end up stumbling on a surprise of your own afterwards.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.9k

a/n: This update is light and fluffy with a surprise at the end! Enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989

"So, are you feeling any older today?" Karen asked Marci, setting her mimosa back down.

Across the table from you and Matt, Foggy began to swiftly shake his head beside his wife. His wide eyes were on Karen as he roughly waved a hand in the air, indicating that was not the question to ask her this morning. The movement immediately caught Marci’s attention and she glared at Foggy's not-so-subtle gesture. He abruptly stopped, pretending he had been trying to grab his glass of water the entire time.

"I found some gray hairs this morning," Marci glowered, her focus returning to Karen as she answered the question. "So yes, I definitely feel older today. And I don't like it."

"I'm sure it was just a really, really blonde hair," you told her.

Marci's dark glare fell on you, the weight of it immediately causing your back to straighten in your chair as you sent her a placating smile in return. Beside you, Matt readjusted his glasses on his nose as he shifted in his seat. A second later you saw his signature charming smile slip onto his lips.

"Personally, I think you look great, Marci," he told her. "You don't look like you've aged a day."

At Matt’s comment, Foggy choked on his sip of water, his eyes somehow managing to widen further in absolute mortification that Matt would make such an ill-timed blind joke. To your left, Karen threw a hand over her mouth as she attempted to stifle a laugh while Marci's piercing gaze slid over to Matt on your right. Matt continued to smile back at her, entirely unphased and completely aware of what a smartass he was being. Though seconds later Marci's eyes softened, a grin tugging up the corner of her lips. You swore Foggy visibly deflated in relief beside her.

"Funny, Murdock," she countered. "But I don't particularly want to think about my age this morning. Even though I'm happy you all came out for brunch with us."

"We wouldn't have missed celebrating your birthday," you assured her.

"And Foggy wouldn't have let us," Matt added.

Your head spun towards him, mouth gaping open at his continued teasing. Nudging him with your elbow, Matt chuckled in response.

"I'm kidding, of course," Matt said, draping an arm around your shoulder. "You know you're like family to us, Marci."

Your teeth bit down on the tip of your tongue at Matt’s words, heat burning at your cheeks. Ever since you'd moved in with Matt a week ago–besides noticing the inability for you both to keep your hands to yourselves which had led to so much sex that your cunt was still aching from overuse as you sat in your chair–you'd noticed Matt had started referring to the pair of you as an 'us' on occasion now. Something he hadn't done before. And judging by the looks on everyone else's faces, they'd caught that, too. Your three friends had also all caught the way you'd nervously dropped your gaze to the table, fidgeting in your seat.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Marci and Karen exchange a look. You had a feeling they were about to interrogate the pair of you on your first week of living together. Your stomach twisted anxiously just before you felt Matt’s hand gently squeeze your shoulder in reassurance. But when Marci's focus returned to you as she leant forward in her seat, extreme interest written all over her face, your suspicions were quickly confirmed.

"We haven't had a chance to talk since you got settled into Matt's this past week," she began, her tone mischievous. "How's living together been going for you both?"

“Great,” you replied quickly, a nervous smile on your lips.

“Really?” Karen asked, her brows rising curiously onto her forehead. “No mishaps or arguments yet? Especially with the furniture being rearranged?”

You cleared your throat, your hands fidgeting with the silverware on your napkin as you remembered the brief argument yesterday morning before work. It was the first argument you’d had living together and it was about the pair of you having too much sex–who would've thought that would be the argument?

Matt shrugged beside you. “Nah, not really,” he answered, pulling you a bit into his side. “We’ve been having too much fun to really argue.”

Marci almost screamed in delight, her finger flying across the table at the pair of you as Karen let out a pleased squeal. Foggy was quick to duck his head, attempting to hide behind his hands at the table. You personally wanted to do the same with the way a few people at the nearby tables were now staring at you.

“I knew it!” Marci shrieked. “I knew you both would be fucking like rabbits!”

Karen giggled, her eyes on you. “Is that why you were complaining about being sore this week?” she asked. “You and Matt just can’t keep your hands to yourselves?”

You shook your head, not wanting to have this conversation with Matt and Foggy right here. “I really don’t think–”

“It’s certainly been a problem,” Matt cut you off. “But I’m not really complaining. Like I said, we’ve been having fun.”

You saw Marci and Karen exchange a look of pure delight just before your head spun towards Matt, a look of sheer horror on your face. He glanced down towards you, shooting you that charming smile of his.

“Matt!” you whisper-yelled at him.

“What?” he asked innocently. “I’m sure you’re going to tell them all the details later. And besides, if you’re this riled up–” he leaned in towards your ear, “–you’re probably going to be too irritated with me to want me to rip that dress off of you when we get home and–”

“Matt!” you shrieked again, face heating at his words.

He chuckled, the warmth of it filling your ears and sending a shudder rippling down your spine. His fingertips lightly brushed against the skin of your shoulder, goosebumps rising along your arms despite the embarrassment flooding you.

"I stand corrected," he whispered.

"What is your secret?" Marci asked curiously, leaning forward on her elbows towards you.

"Babe, maybe we should talk about something else?" Foggy suggested. "Something that doesn't make everyone in here stare at us?"

"I absolutely agree," you said.

"Fine," Marci said with a sigh, settling back into her seat.

"Do you remember how embarrassed you used to get around Matt? Always blurting out strange things?" Karen asked you. "And now here you two are practically inseparable."

Matt's hand along your shoulder pulled you further into his side as he leaned down, placing a kiss against the side of your head. Your eyes briefly fluttered closed as Matt's lips lingered, your heart beating unsteadily in your chest at the feel of them.

"I hear wedding bells," Marci sing-songed across the table.

"Might want to get your ears checked then," Matt teased as he pulled away from you. "Sounds like your age really is catching up to you if you're hearing a ringing in your ears."

Marci's eyebrows shot up onto her forehead as Matt just sat beside you, smiling sweetly back at her. You were trying to bite back a smile of your own as Karen started to crack up to your left, struggling to contain her amusement. Across the table, Foggy sighed and shook his head.

"Buddy, I know you generally have a death wish," he began, "but I never thought you'd be dumb enough to actually provoke my wife to kill you."

"That would make an interesting front page article," you joked. "The big bad Devil of Hell’s Kitchen throttled to death at Wake 'N Bacon because he couldn't stop pointing out that Marci Nelson turned–"

Marci sharply pointed a manicured nail at you, her eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare finish that sentence or you'll both make the front page of The Bulletin," she warned.

Both of your arms were wrapped around Matt’s left one as the pair of you made your way back home from the restaurant, Matt's cane tapping along the sidewalk. Marci's birthday brunch had been fun and you'd enjoyed seeing your friends again this weekend. Even though you'd been texting them throughout the week, you hadn't actually seen them since they'd all helped you move into Matt's apartment last weekend and you had inevitably missed them.

The brunch had also been a welcome distraction from Matt and yours' problem of constantly fucking. This weekend the pair of you had agreed to work on self-restraint. It seemed utterly ridiculous that this was an actual "issue" with you both–what couple actually needed to have less sex? But here you were, having to open the bedroom windows while you had been getting ready this morning in hopes to lessen the scent of your pheromones in the bedroom as you changed because Matt had been getting a little too handsy. It at least seemed to help him focus on getting ready himself, which only led to you both joking about just shoving Matt's head out of an open window whenever he made advances on you in the future.

"You finish that article?" Matt asked as the pair of you walked.

"Mhmm," you hummed with a nod. "Finished it while you were out last night."

"Good," Matt replied. "Hopefully you'll feel less stressed and can enjoy this weekend with me then. Last weekend was a little…busy."

"Well I wonder why," you teased, squeezing his arm between yours as he chuckled. "You planning on going out criminal wrestling tonight?"

Matt laughed, the warm sound drawing a smile to your face as you both made your way down the sidewalk. You still loved making him laugh.

"Criminal wrestling now?" he asked. "That's what I do?"

"Well you've never come up with a name for it," you replied with a shrug. "And it sounds better than asking if you’re going out and doing your illegal activities."

"Mmm,” Matt purred back. “ I'd like to do some criminal wrestling with you back home.”

"Matt," you warned. "That's what we're trying to avoid today."

"Do we need to, though?" he countered, glancing down at you. "We had nothing planned for the day besides that brunch so…?"

"I literally can't take anymore, Matt," you whined back. "I won't be walking all weekend if we have sex today. We need to find something wholesome to do instead."

"Wholesome?" Matt teased back with a laugh. "Like what? Go to church?"

You perked up excitedly at his suggestion. "We haven't stopped by to visit Maggie in a couple of weeks," you pointed out. "Maybe we should–"

Matt came to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk, pulling you to one beside him. Your brows furrowed as you watched his head dart to the side. The foot traffic began to spill around the pair of you as Matt continued to stare down the alley on his right. You craned your neck, trying to see whatever it was he was picking up on, but all you spotted was a dumpster and some garbage bags on the ground lying around it.

"What?" you asked him. "Fancy Devil senses catch something?"

“Yeah,” Matt muttered. “I thought I heard…a cat?”

You snorted in response, though Matt was far too distracted to respond to the noise as he usually did. His brows only further drew together beneath his red glasses as he continued to focus on the alley.

“I mean, there’s probably an apartment nearby with a cat,” you told him. “Or many apartments nearby with cats, actually.”

“No…” he replied, voice trailing off as he took a step towards the alley. “It sounded like it was coming from in here.”

Your nose scrunched in response to his words. “In the alley?” you asked him.

Matt nodded, disentangling himself from you as he began to fold up his cane. He took a few steps into the alley, his head still tilted to the side as he listened in on whatever it was he could hear that you certainly couldn’t. After a moment you followed after him, eyes narrowed as you watched him make his way over towards the dumpster.

“I think it’s in here,” Matt said. “Can you hold this for me?”

He held his cane out towards you and you took it from him wordlessly. Matt focused back on the dumpster, placing both of his hands along the ledge of it before effortlessly hoisting himself up and into it. You cringed when you heard the soft thump of him landing in a pile of garbage just before he ducked down out of sight.

For a moment you stood there, twisting his cane between your hands as you waited for him. You were about to call out to him when he appeared again–this time unmistakably holding a cat. The poor thing looked a little thin, its light gray fur looking a bit dingy and dirty as the cat’s nails dug into Matt’s black tee-shirt, the cat clinging desperately to him. Your heart immediately clenched at the sight of the cat as you hurried over to the dumpster, slotting Matt’s cane beneath an arm as you tried to free it from him.

“You poor kitty!” you cooed, cradling the cat against your chest before its nails soon dug into you through your dress instead. “Who would leave you in a dumpster?”

With a grunt, Matt easily climbed back up and out of the dumpster, his own nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell. No doubt he’d need a shower when the pair of you got back home.

“I hate people who do that,” Matt told you, reaching out and taking his cane from you. “I’ve rescued multiple litters of puppies or kittens from dumpsters around the city a few times now. It’s disgusting.”

Your gaze flew up to Matt in surprise. “You have?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he answered with a nod. “There’s a shelter not too far away that has night staff. They uh, they’ve come to learn that Daredevil likes to bring by strays.”

You openly gaped at his admission as he ran a hand through his hair, attempting to fix it. You’d had no idea he did that when he was out stopping criminals. The knowledge of it only made you love him more.

“We can probably bring this one there,” he said, gesturing a hand at the cat you were holding. “If they’re full, I know they have other shelters or fosters they can get in contact with.”

Your eyes dropped down to the light gray cat that was clinging to you. It’s head rose up, bright green eyes meeting your own. The cat gave a soft mew that had you hesitating, your fingers beginning to scratch behind its ears.

“What if…we don’t do that?” you asked him slowly.

Matt’s head tilted to the side, his covered gaze fixed on you. “What do you mean?” he asked back. “What else would we do?”

Eyes dropping back down to the cat, you saw it had closed its eyes. If you listened closely, you could hear the cat faintly purring as you continued to scratch behind its ears.

“I mean,” you began carefully, “what if we…kept it?”

“You–you want to keep it?” he asked in shock.

“Well, we should definitely make sure no one’s missing a cat first,” you explained quickly. “You know, see if this guy–or girl–is chipped and call up some places to see if anyone is missing a cat that fits the description. Do all the responsible things first. But…” you trailed off, eyes slowly focusing back on Matt’s face which was still twisted up in a look of surprise. “What if we kept it?” you asked softly.

“A cat?” Matt asked. “You want to have a cat?”

“I want us to have a cat,” you corrected him. “She–or he–could keep me company when you’re out at night. And I don’t really feel right leaving them at a shelter. I mean, you found them after all, Matt–in a dumpster no less. I feel like it's fate.”

You could see the faint twitch of Matt’s lips before a smile slowly drew them upwards at the corners. He took a step forward, one hand reaching out towards your face. His fingers affectionately traced the length of your jaw as he stood there silently for a moment, contemplating what you were asking. It felt like a long while before he finally spoke.

“I think you have a soft spot for loving unwanted strays, sweetheart,” Matt murmured fondly.

You couldn’t fight the grin that spread onto your face at his words. “It only makes me want them even more if they’re found in a dumpster,” you teased back.

Matt laughed, the corners of his eyes creasing just past his dark glasses. His hand slipped down from your jaw until his fingers lightly brushed over the cat. The cat only relaxed further in your arms as Matt began to gently pet it.

“Alright,” he said after a moment. “If this cat really does need a home and you want it, then…I suppose we’ve just found ourselves a cat.”

You squealed in delight, focusing back down on the animal in your arms. “You hear that?” you asked the cat, its green eyes once again meeting yours. “You’re coming home with us. And I’m going to fatten you up and find you a name.”

“Okay, okay,” Matt said with a laugh, waving a hand. “Let’s hold off on the name until we know they don’t actually belong to anyone first. I don’t need you getting attached and getting upset if we have to give it up.”

Leaning down towards the cat, you whispered into its ear, “Don’t worry, he’ll fall in love with you, too. Just watch.”

[END NOTES]

They've got a cat!! I know many of you have been wanting this moment to happen and I always had it in my mind that Matt would be the one to find the cat in a dumpster and he wouldn't necessarily want to keep it--but just you wait. Matt and cat are going to be adorable. I have a whole list of ideas of things I want to explore with these two and Matt's senses when it comes to a cat that I've slowly been adding to for a month now. I'm thinking you'll see more of Matt and cat next because I think I'll make the next installment "The Stray" which I know was a suggested title from way back. I'm considering making it a Matt POV where he stays home with the cat while Reader runs out to buy cat supplies and he tries to bond with the cat.

I'll be getting interactive later today asking for cat name suggestions yet again. I'm hoping to find something that Matt and Reader would name the cat--so something related to Daredevil, Matt's father, or FFTD in general. For example, Matt loves trail mix, but that is a terrible name for a cat. So far I know I've been suggested Mittens (for boxing glove mitts) and Scarlet (because of Matt's suit being red) and I love those. I'm thinking I'll probably make a poll if there's enough for me to boil them down to and let y'all vote on it. Y'all know I love getting interactive! But I'll make a post for that later today or tomorrow so I don't ruin the surprise for everyone else.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic

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scuttlingcrab · 6 months ago

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The Great Hunt

An Absolute Waste of Time

Summary: Raphael is MAD. So full of rage and malice he is about to burn down the entire Sword Coast before the Mind Flayers even arrive. What could possibly get the Devil's knickers in such a twist? Tav, oh that cheeky little mouse, sold the Orphic Hammer. And for what? Gold, of all things.

In this second instalment, Raphael tears through Baldur's Gate, from the Circus of the Last days to the Blushing Mermaid, trying to locate it.

He has never stooped so low…

Check out PART 01: In Search of a Hammer here!

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

The Devil stood in an alleyway across from the Beehive General Goods, feasting his eyes on the flames as they devoured that worthless shop whole. The building was destroyed faster than thought, leaving nothing left but a lump of charred scraps. That didn’t stop a throng of mortals from gathering; just like maggots infesting a corpse, they quickly exchanged gossip in a hushed buzz, chewing over theories as to what could’ve possibly caused such a tragedy.

Muffled squeaks came from below Raphael, the noise grating against his ears. He gazed towards the sound, sending a stabbing look at the creature responsible for creating such an annoying racket. A large rat was confined in a jar, frantically clawing its glass prison in an attempt to escape. Raphael’s smile held a touch of mockery as he picked it up, rocking it only just to cause the rat to fall over.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, my dear Oliver.” Raphael whispered, bringing the glass closer to his mouth. He hissed at the rat, briefly showcasing his Devilish fangs before concealing them again. “The next time someone calls upon you, asking for a particular item, it would be in your best interest to show them the utmost respect. That is, if you’ll ever be fortunate enough to walk this earth on two legs again.”

The rat’s beady eyes widened as it recoiled, finding no means of escaping Raphael’s scathing glare. Instead the creature screeched in terror and began running around in circles. Pathetic. Raphael halfheartedly discarded the jar, throwing it over his shoulder as he walked deeper into the alley, further removing himself from the growing chaos in the streets.

As cathartic as it was admiring his work, and torturing that insufferable shop owner, it would get him nowhere. Time waits for no man, or Devil, and Raphael had to act quickly if he was ever going to succeed in his plights to unite the Hells.

Raphael nearly shattered Oliver Tefoco’s soul into a million pieces, threatening to simmer his corpse in a cauldron and make jam of his remains. He would sooner have fed that to a stray dog than let his tongue touch such filth, but Oliver was none the wiser. All this effort just to extract what was needed from that worthless creature. The whereabouts of the Orphic Hammer. He got his answer, eventually. These maddening mortals would be the death of him, they had no ounce of intellect, no common sense, throwing around an item as valuable as the Hammer like it was yesterday’s trash.

The Devil stopped abruptly, resting his hand against his hip. His chest tightened, his breathing growing more erratic as his heart began to convulse. No. His fingers burned, the tips pulsing red, on the verge of erupting into Hellfire at any moment.

Raphael needed to restrain his temper. After all, he was saving it for one person in particular, the very mortal who deserved all his wrath, and all the pain and suffering that would soon come raining down upon them. Tav. The sole fool responsible for these recent inconveniences and his current rampage through Baldur’s Gate. If they hadn’t so gleefully sold the Orphic Hammer for gold, Raphael would be sitting comfortably in his best silks, sampling his most decadent wines, and waiting for the final battle to begin. It’s that same little shit who had somehow lodged themselves straight into his head, becoming his very own parasite. Any other unfortunate mortals who just so happened to get caught in his fiery rage were merely collateral. They could all burn, turn to ash, for all he cared. He wouldn’t stop until he had the Hammer and his Crown.

Snap!

A fiery gateway appeared before him and he stomped through towards his next destination: The Circus of the Last Days.

Popper the Kobold was having the very best day of his entire life. Well, maybe that wasn’t true, he’s had plenty of good days, he could count them all on one hand. Wait, no both hands. He was sure he had more good days than this. To be honest, he couldn’t remember much of what happened yesterday. He was too focused on the juicy prize in front of him as he dragged a fresh corpse through the Circus of the Last Days, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He just couldn’t believe his luck, like earlier, buying that hammer for practically nothing! His very first hammer too! What a deal. It was the biggest, prettiest hammer he had ever seen, the top reminded him of blood, tasty blood, that’s why he liked it so much. And it sparkled like a diamond. He was really looking forward to smashing things with it, lots of different things, but then he found that corpse. Oh, yes. Nothing was better than a fresh body stuffed with loot. He practically skipped all the way back to the Circus as he hauled it, so chuffed with his little ol’ self for making such a swap. Probably his bestest swap ever!

Popper swatted away all the nasty looks from the humans as he pushed through the crowd at the Circus’ entrance. They all stared at him like they knew the dead person he was holding. He even made a few of those smaller, weaker humans cry and run away, but he paid them no mind. Maybe they’ve never seen such a delicious snack before. Maybe they were jealous… that’s right, jealous! He better get straight to business then, the sooner he could pull that body apart, the faster he’d be left alone. It would be no good, absolutely no good, if Lucretious noticed he brought another corpse to the Circus. They’d steal it, just like the others! And experiment on it with their dirty magic. This was his corpse! His! He’d show them!

The Kobold finally reached his tent and threw the corpse in the centre of his living space, quickly scurrying to a large crate stuffed in the back, near the privies. He dug through the crate, packed with all his very favourite toys, pulling out random scissors, broken knives, and even a few odd bits of monster parts, things he definitely forgot were in there… until he finally found it: a large rusted cleaver. It was covered in a thick layer of grime. It had seen lots and lots of bodies, yes it had!

“This is most perfect!” Popper explained, to nobody but himself.

Whack, whack, thump, whack.

He immediately began slicing at the corpse, hacking off limbs in no particular order or with any care, licking his lips as he pulled apart an arm and ripped up a leg. Before long, he got himself into a rhythm, chopping faster as his stomach growled with excitement. Oh, the treatos he would have!

Popper was nearly finished too, until he stopped, unexpectedly distracted. He scrunched his snout, tilting his head up high as he smelled the air around him. He stuck his tongue out, licking the air like it was an icy treat. Something smelled like burning and tasted rotten, like the Hells.

Screaming came from the crowd near the stage as Popper watched a thick coat of smoke rise into the air like a huge balloon.

“Maybe they’s be adding some new magics? Or… they’s really be loving Dribbles’ new replacement?” Popper whispered, nodding to himself. He was ready to start again, but he noticed something else, something weird coming towards him.

A tall man, dressed real fancy like, definitely not in normal people's clothes, pushed through the other humans; not even saying ‘scuse me as he did so. The ground at his feet turned black as he came towards him. Oh, this man was mad. His face was all scrunched up, his mouth curling in all sorts of directions. Maybe he ate something that didn’t agree with him? But the oddest thing of all, this man was staring directly at Popper! Giving him a creepy look, meaner than anything he’d ever seen, even from Lucretius.

“You!” The man shouted, his voice shot through the air like an arrow, making Popper drop his cleaver.

“Y-you come for me? You must be wanting my treatos!”

The man was very tall, casting a long shadow over Popper. The Kobold nearly fell over looking up at him.

“Oooh! You is casting some real fancy magics.” Popper pointed at the ground as flames appeared at the man’s feet, like he was standing in the middle of a campfire. “You is the most perfects human for the stage, sirs, has you—“

“Treato…?” The man began, his face getting more twisted, just like the roots of a tree. Actually, the more Popper stared at the man, the more he realised his eyes were the scariest, most terrifying things he had ever seen. There was definitely fire in those black eyes.

“Uh… yes? Duh! Treatos. I have lots. Is that not why you’s are here? Popper only has the bestest treatos, yes sirs. And magics. If you has any—“

“If I cracked open your skull…” the man continued, “what would I find inside? Hmm? Oh, I know. There would be no brain, that’s for certain. If there was anything, I would imagine it to be the size of a grain of rice. Undetectable to even the most skilled physicians.”

“Yous what? Take your fancy smelly clothes and eat shit, you human bastard! I has the biggest brain and I is…”

Popper had a poor temper. He always got in a lot of trouble for snapping at customers if they said certain things to him. Once or twice, well maybe more than that, he bit someone’s hand clean off. And another time, he nibbled at an elf's toes. All because they said his treatos were mouldy! Nobody makes fun of Popper. Their toes didn’t taste any better. He hasn’t done that for a while though. Lucretious would fire him right out. And he needed this job. But boy, did Popper want to bite this man. Real good.

The man pointed his long fingers at Popper and he noticed the man’s skin was red, just like his, and he had long black fingernails. All of a sudden, Popper wasn’t very hungry anymore.

“You will cease this stupidity at once.” The man’s voice was low, as if a growl. “I have wasted enough time already. So we will cut to the chase. Heed carefully what I say, you flaming imbecile. And you will answer me plainly. Else I will take you far away from here and slowly pick your worthless body apart, scale by scale, until nothing remains.”

Popper gulped, his tail curling between his legs. The only thing he could do was nod back at this man, who really wasn’t much of a man, the more Popper thought about it.

“Good.” The man said, placing his hands on his hips. “Where is my hammer? I know you have it. I spent the last hour torturing a man only for him to cry out your name repeatedly.” There was a long pause as Popper stared up at the man, unsure what to say, confused as to why this man would be torturing anyone, let alone looking for a hammer. “Do I need to spell it out? Perhaps I need to use a simpler language for the likes of you.”

The man leaned down, within inches of Popper’s face.

“Oh… Oh!” Popper raised his finger in the air as he just realised something. “I in fact, once had a hammer. But not for very long, you sees, it just so happens…”

Popper continued to tell the man how he came to find the hammer, the one matching his exact description, which Popper found very funny. What were the odds! But he stopped laughing when the man glared at him again, showing some sharp teeth when he grinned. Which wasn’t very gentlemanly.

At that moment, the Kobold wished he still had that hammer. So this man could go away and he could go back to doing other stuff. Like thinking about what he was going to eat for supper. Actually, the more Popper thought about it… that corpse probably wasn’t worth it. This was turning out to be too much trouble. Maybe it wasn’t his lucky day after all. He even found himself wanting to apologise for all the times he ever wished terrible things on Lucretius.

They weren’t so bad. Or scary.

Not at all.

Raphael despised the Circus of the Last Days. It was a vile place. Absolutely vile, the lot of it. He couldn’t fathom these mortal buffoons parading around and calling themselves enterainters. And the worst part of all? The clowns. They were a mockery of the stage and its true purpose. There was no art in what they claimed to achieve. He hoped a few of them might perish in the day’s ahead. And by no means a quick death either. Something excruciatingly slow and agonising. Like roasting their bodies over a spit of Hellfire, a thousand times over.

These raging thoughts grew bloodier, more gruesome as he moved on, going from one location to the next. He was certain his heart could sink no further, but he was quickly mistaken as his search for the Orphic Hammer proved to be never-ending. Somehow, the damned thing kept evading him, always missing it by mere moments as it was handed on to the next moron who decided to gamble with their fate. Raphael’s anxiety grew worse, wrapping around him like the tendrils of a Mind Flayer; squeezing his limbs, crawling up his neck as he progressively found it harder to breathe, to concentrate.

Of course Raphael had no issues getting what he wanted from Popper. But that itself came at a cost. Raphael had received too much information, practically hearing that creature’s entire life story. No detail was spared. It would forever be ingrained in Raphael’s memory, the monotony, the stupidity, of it all.

In the end, Popper had met a band of mercenaries and traded the Hammer for a corpse. A putrid corpse. Raphael eventually tracked them down, the group lurking about some caves near the Lower City like a bunch of thieves. But did they have the Hammer? Of. Course. Not. It couldn’t have been that easy. They had lost it. Naturally. In the sewers, of all places, abandoning it after they came across some wizard. Or so they said. He was very much looking forward to meeting this ‘supposed’ wizard. Before Raphael left the mercenaries to their business, he viciously snapped his fingers, causing all their precious loot to melt away at their fingertips. The ones who had it on hand screamed in agony as the gold, the necklaces, even some of their armour and swords, merged with their flesh. Served them right.

“Bah!” Raphael screamed, his voice echoing off the slimy sewer walls. When the sound faded, the only thing he could hear was the continuous dripping of water as it leaked from the decaying ceilings above him.

Raphael was lost, wandering the sewer system beneath Baldur’s Gate for what felt like days, years even. His boots were soiled, completely ruined. He was covered in filth up to his knees as he trudged through the cesspool. He would certainly be burning this entire outfit when he was through. No spell or potion would be able to cause these rancid smells to disappear. A shame, really. This was one of his favourite doublets.

As he manoeuvred his way through the snaking, narrow pipes, he made a mental note to revise Tav’s current contract; adding in an additional clause, or perhaps two, for every minute he spent searching for the Hammer, and for the ruination of his wardrobe.

The stench of the sewers progressively worsened as Raphal entered a large chamber, the excrement somehow smelling more bitter. He took a step forward and nearly slipped, holding onto the crate next to him to avoid falling face first in the muck. He looked down, only to discover he was stepping in grease.

“I will wring their sorry, little, pathetic neck!” Raphael cursed, steadying himself as he began to take careful, calculated steps through the rest of the chamber.

“What’s this cousin?” A squeaky voice spoke as a Drow appeared from behind a corner, revealing themselves rather flamboyantly. He was dripping in the same greasy substance that covered the floor, and surrounded by what seemed like an army of grease elementals and mephits.

The Drow pointed at Raphael, “Ah! It is but another Absolutist, come to see what we–”

Raphael took one look at the Drow and rolled his eyes.

Snap!

The entire room instantly turned into an inferno, every creature within the vicinity of the grease was consumed by flames. Their screams lost against the raging fire. Raphael didn’t even know who that Drow was, nor did he care. There was no more time for talking.

He continued through the extensive network of sewage pipes, navigating every underground hallway, tearing apart every room as he dug through boxes and discarded chests, but he found no Hammer.

He eventually stumbled upon a man standing alone in a hallway. The mortal was dressed in plain armour, his face riddled with all sorts of interesting scars. Perhaps at another time he would've loved to pry open that mortal and find out how he got those marks. There was no one else around him, and he simply stared at Raphael, with absolutely no care in the world.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen an Orphic Hammer floating around this cesspit? Hmm?” Raphael said as he approached the man, standing in front of him.

The man held Raphael’s gaze, but he did not respond.

Raphael gritted his teeth, his fists trembling as he raised one hand in the air, preparing his thumb and middle finger for this man’s immediate extermination. The Devil was emotionally exhausted; the weight of it all, his infernal obligations, his hopes, his doomed destiny… it threatened his strength, his resolve. If he sat down, slumping against the grimy walls of the sewer, he would fall into a deep sleep from which he might never awaken. Hammer or not, this charade needed to end, this unfortunate act was going on for far too long. Raphael almost wanted to applaud the entire situation, for whoever was behind the scenes orchestrating his madness. His despair. How many more mortals would he need to obliterate before he found the Hammer? If he found it at all? Flames appeared at his fingertips as he held the pose, his anger building. The mysterious man didn’t even blink.

“Raphael?” Spoke a familiar, low voice. “I never thought I’d see you here.”

He twirled around at the mention of his name, only to find Mol staring at him from the opposite end of the hallway. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised as she gaped at him in confusion, holding a small dagger in her hands.

“A most welcoming sight indeed.” Raphael dropped the flames, clapping his hands together with relief as his temper cooled.

Mol grinned, sheathing her dagger.

“That one doesn’t talk, by the way. Which is really annoying, if you ask me.” There was a brief pause as Mol eyed Raphael up and down, “Say, what are you even doing down here? I heard a HUGE explosion and came running out of the Guild. Thought it might’ve been, you know… the end of the world.” Mol spoke the last few words in a hushed whisper.

A tiny sliver of hope fluttered in Raphael’s heart as he looked down at Mol, she could be the one who got Raphael out of this mess. The Tiefling could have the answers, a lead, something! She was resourceful, had her eyes and ears all over the city. There was a reason he had secured a deal with her in the first place. Mol's soul was one thing, but she had potential, promise, he never doubted her for a second.

“As much as I’d love to catch-up with my budding protégé, I must act swiftly. I have no time for pleasantries, I’m afraid. I do have but a small favour to ask of you, however.”

Mol’s eyes lit up like fireflies.

“Anything!”

Raphael leaned towards Mol, his face growing serious.

“My Orphic Hammer is missing. You know the one. I’ve seen you snooping about my archives, flipping audaciously through some restricted documents.”

Mol’s cheeks turned red and her eyebrows raised, only for a moment, but she did not look away from Raphael. She was guilty, yes, but not ashamed. A valiant trait.

“Nothing escapes me, but if it was anyone else and I’d have incinerated them on the spot. Now, please, do you know where it could be? Have you heard anything that might be useful? Time, my dear Mol, as you know, is of the essence.”

“Hmm…” Mol bit her lip, her forehead wrinkling as she thought long and hard.

“No, I’m sorry Raphael.”

Raphael deflated into himself, burying his face in his hands. The disappointment was crippling. His skin caught fire without warning as he began to change into his cambion form. His doubts, those treacherous thoughts of failure, crashed down on him from every direction. He massaged his temples, attempting to keep himself calm, collected, especially in front of Mol.

“But… and you might find this interesting, actually…” Mol continued and Raphael stopped short, mid transformation. Devilish horns peeked out of his mortal head, a tail sprouting from his back, but the rest of his human proportions were otherwise the same. “I’ve heard there’s rumblings of a big trade happening at the Blushing Mermaid, and I mean BIG. You might want to stop by. That’s the only thing I could think of. I wish–”

Raphael quickly cleared his throat, rectifying his appearance as he slid back into his mortal disguise. He straightened his posture, smoothing his doublet and trying not to grimace at the filth that still clung to it.

He placed his hand on Mol’s shoulder, giving it an appreciative squeeze in good measure.

“There is a reason I decided to be your mentor, Mol. I knew you’d never disappoint.”

Raphael giddily clapped his hands and a gateway appeared behind him, leading directly to the Blushing Mermaid’s interior.

“Mol, might I suggest you find a suitable safe house for the time being. These rumblings are only going to get worse. You were right in your thinking earlier, the end is near. It would indeed dampen my spirits to find your soul waiting for me upon my return, or to perhaps learn that you’ve been turned into an Illithid. Prepare yourself, and I will meet you when this business is concluded.”

“Yes, boss!”

Mol gave Raphael an enthusiastic salute, befitting of an experienced general. That gesture alone made him beam with pride.

This mentorship would prove to be a wise investment indeed.

“Could you believe Fenris…?” Lissa muttered, resting her head on the table. It was sticky, everything was bloody sticky at the Blushing Mermaid. This place was a dump, but it was more affordable than the Elfsong. Especially on her wages.

The gnome didn’t care though, all she wanted was for the world to stop spinning. She felt like she would retch up yesterday’s, today’s, and tomorrow’s breakfast at any second. She had too much to drink. Again. She should really stop taking up the bottle, she could only handle one drink with her figure, and she had drunk at least four so far today. It was all Vola's fault, that damned half-elf, she was a bad influence.

“Dragging that… t-thing…” Lissa carried on, suppressing a burp, “What w-waas it again?”

“Huh?” Vola groaned awake, her head lolling side-to-side as she tried to focus on Lissa. “Oh… you mean… t-that… hammer? It was a hammer, right? F-fucking huuuuuuge for a hammer, ha!”

“The hammer!” Lissa screamed, “y-yessss, the hammer.”

Lissa and Vola stared at each other, then burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, slamming their fists on the table like a pair of monkeys.

“Gods, Fenris dragged that hideous thing through the dirt, c-couldn’t even l-lift it. Fell r-right on his f-fat faace.” Lissa struggled to lift her head, hitting it against the back of the booth they shared. She blinked slowly, barely able to keep her eyelids from falling shut. “Ne-never sseeen such a t-tthing in my life.”

Lissa reached too fast for the half-empty glass in front of her and caused it to topple over, the ale cascading in all directions.

“Oooooops.” Lissa said, still laughing.

“W-whaat a waste!” Vola proclaimed.

Lissa turned towards the bar, raising her hand high in the air. She was about to call for the bartender when she noticed a very tall, and extremely handsome man standing at their booth. Oh he was a charming son of a bitch, with a smooth smile, and dark, pretty eyes. His clothes were a bit dirty though, but Lissa had seen worse.

“Good afternoon, my esteemed drunkards.” The man said, his voice was rich, deep, and dreamy.

“Would you allow me the pleasure of purchasing a drink for you both?”

“Free b-booze?” Lissa asked.

She looked to Vola for confirmation, but the half-elf was fast asleep, her mouth hanging open. Lissa kicked Vola under the table and she shot awake, her arms flailing in all sorts of directions.

“Free b-boooooze.” Lissa whispered, tilting her head toward the man at the head of the booth.

“On me.” The man said with a wink. He smiled broadly, showcasing such white, beautiful teeth.

The man did some sort of magic trick, conjuring sparks by snapping his fingers, or clapping his hands… Whichever it was, he caused two massive glasses of ale to appear on the table.

“W-wooooow.” Lissa and Vola muttered in unison.

The man slid into the booth, edging closer to Lissa. She sniffed the air, smelling all sorts of lovely, new things. Cherries, and a yummy flowery smell. She ignored the sudden stench of the sewers though, convinced it was from the Blushing Mermaid.

Oh she didn’t want this man to ever leave.

“I’m very curious about this hammer you’ve been discussing.” The man said, his eyes locking with Lissa’s. “Please, tell me all about it…”

The Devil watched over a mortal man as he slept soundlessly in a small bed, his protruding belly slowly rising with each staggered breath. His snores rattled the very walls of Flaygo’s Flophouse, but Raphael paid no attention to the irksome noise around him. His eyes were focused on the Orphic Hammer the man clung to in his slumber, holding it tightly like he was but a babe in a crib.

The sun had already begun its descent, a purple glow leaking in from the open window. He could see the entranceway of Sharess’ Caress from his vantage point in the cramped room; the brothel was as busy as ever, despite him setting the Devil’s Den ablaze mere hours ago. Raphael let out a long, exasperated sigh at that thought alone. An entire day gone to waste, when the Hammer was under his nose this entire time. Fate was cruel, the weaves unpredictable, no matter how hard he tried to control them.

Raphael couldn’t pull his eyes away from the Hammer, he dared not to. It could be an illusion for all he knew, vanish the moment he reached for it.

The man turned over in the bed, taking the Orphic Hammer with him as he shifted, groaning in his sleep.

“Oh, I do hope you’re having a pleasant dream.” Raphael whispered, taking a step closer.

Raphael was within inches of the man now, so close he could smell the booze reeking from his breath. As he extended his hand towards the Hammer he paused, beginning to chuckle. It started slowly, but grew more ferocious as every second passed, until he was nearly on his knees, roaring with laughter. Fire spurted from Raphael’s mouth like a forge as he wheezed, unable to control his breath, to contain himself any longer. Tears formed out of the corner of his eyes, flooding down his cheeks. They evaporated as soon as they met his scorching skin. Despite Raphael’s raucousness, the man remained undisturbed.

The Devil had seen it all, tortured just about every miserable soul from the Outer Plane to the Elemental, but he never thought he’d see, let alone experience, anything like this. A lowly creature, clutching on to the future of mortal-kind. A tale worthy of the bards.

Suddenly, the earth shuddered violently, as if waking up from its own slumber. Paintings flew off the walls, bookshelves toppled over, and the room vibrated continuously as the quake worsened. Mortals screamed from the streets below as some of the buildings in Wyrm's Crossing began to topple from the earth’s constant movements.

Raphael swiftly collected himself, shaking away any remaining bouts of laughter. He clapped his hands to rid his outfit of any evidence from the day's plights. When he was satisfied with his appearance, and found no speck of dirt or grime left, he snapped his fingers, and the Hammer flew into his hands. He squeezed its hilt until his knuckles turned white, feeling the weight of the Hammer in his hands.

Showtime.

A reckoning was coming and not the one Tav might’ve expected.

To be continued…

#bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #mol bg3 #popper bg3 #circus of the last days #raphael x reader #orphic hammer #raphael fanfic #baldur's gate 3

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lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie · 11 months ago

Text

Merry Christmas, Janus

Summary: After the gift exchange, Janus returns to the Dark Side of the Mindpalace to relax and reflect. As he picks up his new socks, he finds a second gift from Roman…maybe he really should have laid off of the wine.

Pairings: None, background prinxiety if you squint

Warnings: WINE/ALCOHOL MENTION, NO COMFORT, I GUESS?

(A/N: So I'm posting this really, REALLY late because I had no energy to finish this but I finally do!)

When Logan had invited him and Remus to this year’s gift exchange with the whole Fam-ILY, Janus hadn’t expected things to go the way they did. Yes, he might have downed a few glasses as he refused to show up sober. He didn’t want to have to remember such a warm and soft event. He didn’t to have to hear all the sappy shit coming from those Light side dorks. Especially from Patton. Janus especially did NOT want to deal with Virgil and Roman while he was sober.

Speaking of the prince, Janus finds himself glancing over at the Creative side. Roman was currently curled up on the couch with Virgil, babbling away as he showed the anxious side his twenty-dollar bill with his face on it. Virgil chuckled, lounging against Roman’s side, and saying something Janus could care less about. Though…something twists in Janus’ stomach as he watches the two of them get cozy, Roman wrapping an arm around Virgil who nuzzles him. Gross.

Janus watches them a little longer before turning away. He finishes his remaining wine and makes the mug vanish as he tries to ignore his still throbbing cheek from the bitch-slap earlier. Yeah, he probably deserved it though. The lying side then glances at Roman and Virgil again, glancing away when Virgil suddenly glares at him. Janus doesn’t know when, but Virgil has been acting like the prince’s guard dog and hardly ever leaves his side. Huffing, Janus turns to Remus.

“Remus, get up. We’re going home.” Janus hisses.

Remus looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor with his air-fryer. Somehow, Remus has managed to put several substances and a stick of deodorant in it.

“Already?” he whines. “But I wanna stay! I’m making dinner!”

Janus cringes at the chunky slop in the air-fryer bucket.

“We already had dinner. You can bring that home and play with it all you want there.”

Remus pouts and unplugs his appliance, tucking the bucket back in.

“Boo, you’re no fun, you Scrooge.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be here. It’s getting too sappy for my liking.”

“Fiiine.” Remus then turns to the rest of the room. “Hey, dorks! We’re dipping out. Snakey here is getting grouchy.”

Janus huffs.

“Thanksss, Remusss…” he hisses.

After what felt like an hour of goodbyes, thank yous, and Christmas wishes as well as a good riddance from Roman and Virgil, Janus and Remus finally sank out and returned home. As soon as they popped up into the dark and cold common room, Janus beelined towards his office while Remus scurried off somewhere with the air-fryer. Janus didn’t care and entered his office, locking the door behind him. Usually, this is where he starts chugging a bottle of wine but for once he’s trying to sober up so he can sort out his mind. Maybe he’ll thank Roman for slapping him somewhat awake.

Roman…

Of all the sides…Roman had to be the one to have his name.

Janus sighs and stares at the box on his desk. Despite everything he’d done to the prince, Roman still put in the effort to make his gift look nice. Roman was even thoughtful, giving him a gift he could make use of rather than giving him some fancy trinket. The snake side picks up the box and opens it. Luckily, the bitch-slap-in-a-box was a one-time thing. Setting the lid aside, Janus picks up the mustard yellow socks inside and gazes at them. Sure, they’re just socks and usually they’re not a gift you want to receive on Christmas, but part of Janus couldn’t be upset. Roman gave him an actual gift rather than just leaving him with nothing.

Trying to ignore his heavy thoughts, the deceitful side discards his gloves and runs his fingers over the fabric of the sock. They’re quite soft, much to his surprise. He at least expected it to be some god-awful fabric that would try to rip the scales off of his feet. Janus then picks up the other sock and feels it only to pause when he feels something crinkly in the sock. He winces and prays it’s not another prank from the prince. Bracing himself, Janus reaches in, and his fingertips pluck a folded and now crumpled piece of stationery. Of course. There in black ink and written in cursive is his own name. Oh. Janus then opens the paper, a very long and cursive message waiting inside.

Dear Sna Dec Janus,

I apologize if my gift to you isn’t anything fancy. And I’m not talking about the bitch slap. Sorry for that by the way. I wasn’t going to do it at first but I thought it’d be funny. Honestly, I’m glad I got to see it in person. I really wanted to slap you, but I didn’t want to look like the jerk of all jerks. Again. Now, why am I writing this letter to you? Well…I have a lot to say to you and I don’t think you’d understand if I tried to say it in person. Despite your role, you’d never believe me. You’d probably think I was sucking up to our dear old dad or even Thomas. So, I’m doing it in letter form. Writing always helped me free my mind of the things I don’t want to think about.

I just wanted to know, why do you hate me? Forgive me if you’re still bitter about the hat stealing and the name calling. Everything. To be truly honest, I had no idea what to do. When we were in the courtroom, everything was flipped outside down and all around. They said to trust you and then they said not to. When I tried to follow, they didn’t like it. Like I walked down the wrong path despite them giving me the map. Funny, isn’t it? Trying to do what you thought was right only to hurt yourself and someone else. That’s probably why you hate me.

I suppose I should also apologize for my growing ego. Better it grew rather than let it fall apart and ruin Thomas, right? Then again, what do you care? I’m just a bumbling, arrogant prince who cares for no one but himself. Is that what you wanted to hear?

I also miss you. When we were up on that stage and I had no clue you had taken Patton’s form, I had fun acting on stage and having, well, ‘you’ to direct me. It was fun and you seemed to like drama and theater. I had hoped we could work together again but now I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to tell when you’re acting and when you’re not. It’s a shame, really. After we were formally introduced, I thought we were friends. I wanted to be friends, believe me, but I’m scared. I don’t want you to lie to me again and make me believe you care. For Thomas’ sake I’m willing to be as civil as I can so we can work together but outside of that, I don’t think I’m ready to face you. Maybe in the future, we could talk but not right now. Not until I feel ready.

I suppose I should end this letter now. If you’re still reading this, Janus, then thank you, I guess. Thank you for not trashing this letter. I mean, you can once you’re done reading if you want. You probably still don’t care. I’ll see you around the Mindpalace or something. Take care of Remus for me. He seems to like you more. I really wish we could’ve been friends. I hope you enjoy the rest of your Christmas evening. I mean, you won right? You beat the mighty prince and his massive ego. Congratulations. Merry Christmas, Janus.

Roman

Janus stares at the letter, rereading it once more before putting it down on the desk with shaky hands. He rubs at his face, ignoring the fact that his cheeks were wet now. He leans back in his chair, hanging in his head guilt. God, Roman…what had he done? He just…the prince wanted to be friends…Janus licks his lips, the taste of salt and bitter grapes mixing. He stares at the letter sitting on his desk, regret and something heavy pooling in his gut. Janus hadn’t realized how much he’d hurt the prince has was supposed to protect.

He really should lay off of the wine…

#li talks #sanders sides #sanderessides #ts fanfiction #roman sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders angst

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loveandpeaceanddoughnuts · 3 months ago

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a fluffy Eruri Oneshot in which Erwin and Levi decide to dress up as each other for Halloween

They both get Hange’s help, who finds it hilarious but doesn’t breathe a word to the other person as they help Erwin raid the cleaning supply closet and Levi draw on thick eyebrows.

Erwin and Levi stand in front of their mirrors, fighting grins as they slant their hair into choppy bangs and part it in a deep swoop, respectively.

Hange is hosting a dinner for Halloween night, and they sit beside Moblit eagerly awaiting the chaos. The two men arrive at the same time and freeze when they catch sight of each other, staring in shocked silence. While Erwin seems to be holding back a smile, Levi is scowling.

Levi’s eyes narrow as he takes in the Commander’s cravat (tied wrong, he thinks) and the mop slung over his shoulder. “And who exactly are you supposed to be?”

Erwin shrugs with the mop over his shoulder. “I could ask you the same thing.” He eyes Levi’s slicked down hair, thick eyebrows, and the too-broad scout jacket falling to his waist. “It seems we had the same idea.”

Levi crossed his arms, the first hint of a smirk on his lips. “I don’t know what you mean, soldier. Bold of you to talk back to your Commander.”

Erwin’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs. “Oh is that how you want to play this?” He tugged a handkerchief up over his mouth and nose and dropped his voice to a dramatic rasp. “Don’t bother me with your bullshit, Commander, I’ve got things to clean.”

Levi crossed his arms and stood on his toes, trying his best to look down on Erwin. “Well I’m busy wasting our budget. Looks like you’ll have to go to yet another fundraiser, Levi.”

“Only if I can complain the entire time. And if we spend all the money we raise on tea and sponges.”

Levi scoffed. “I’m going to go make a super secret plan and not tell anyone about it.”

Erwin smiled. “I’m going to somehow anticipate exactly what you have in mind and execute it perfectly.”

Back at the table, Hange and Moblit followed the escalating exchange like a tennis match. Levi flushed, thrown off by the compliment.

“Well I don’t have any hair on my chest because it all went to my eyebrows!”

Hange couldn’t help from muttering “I bet you’d like to know”, and Moblit snorted into his glass.

“I glare at everybody with my piercing, stormy eyes!”

“Well I have eyes like a perfect spring day!” Levi stepped closer, sending a glare up at Erwin much like the one he’d been accused of.

Spots of color appeared on Erwin’s cheeks, and it was his turn to falter. “I… I make fighting look easy! It’s like I can fly in ODM gear.”

“Well I make the fighting worth it!” The two men were chest to chest now, or as much as they could be with the height difference, and tension crackled in the narrow space between them.

Hange downed the rest of their wine in one gulp and slammed it back down on the table. “Damn it, just kiss already!” Moblit immediately sunk down in his chair, hiding from the incredulous looks the two men shot their way.

Hange didn’t back down. “You know you want to!”

Levi and Erwin spoke at the same time, in their own voices.

“Shut up, four eyes!”

“Yes, I do.”

Levi snapped his gaze back to Erwin. “You…do?” He clenched his jaw, for once unsteady on his feet. “This better not be some shitty joke.”

Erwin’s laugh was soft and tender, a little vulnerable. “I wouldn’t do that, Levi.”

The smaller man reached up and ran his fingers over Erwin’s cravat. “You didn’t even tie this right. Least you could’ve done,” he grumbled.

“Hm? Oh-!!” Before Erwin could protest that he’d done his best, Levi yanked him down by the fabric and crashed his lips against his.

Luckily for Hange, Levi couldn’t hear their gleeful whistle over the blood rushing in his ears. He was kissing Erwin. And then, somehow, miraculously, Erwin was kissing him back.

#aot eruri #snk eruri #eruri fanfic #eruri #eruri fluff #aot halloween #erwin x levi #erwin smith #levi ackerman #oneshot #aot fluff #aot #snk #first kiss

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stayinzencity · 10 months ago

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heroine’s manual S1 E3

GENRE: Romcom, Drama | love triangles, childhood friends, high school au | INSPIRED BY: Heroine Shikkaku (shoujo manga) | LENGTH: ~1.4K | RATING: Teen | WARNINGS: mentions of food, eating | PAIRINGS: Minho x MC (Reader), Minho x OC (Heather) | TAGLIST: @linoscence @elizabeth11moreno (ask to be added) | A/N: this chapter finally came out of the drafts after years thanks to @jisungsdaydreamer (and me accidentally posting part 5 first oops)

♡ previous episode

♡ return to main

THREE. Even if he rejects me, I won't give up so easily and allow someone else to steal my spot.

Inviting Heather to hang out is a mistake. Having your friends around doesn't make you feel any less of a third wheel. It’s Heather who’s supposed to be the odd one out amongst your group, yet somehow it feels like the rest of you are the ones intruding. You can't bear to witness the shy glances and gentle smiles Minho and Heather exchange.

You're trying to come up with an excuse to break them apart without being the bad guy, when a crash comes to your rescue.

"Ah. My bad," Jisung apologizes, looking down at the glass he'd accidently knocked over. He'd been sitting next to Heather, and while the glass was fortunately intact, water had spilled onto Heather's lap.

"Looks like you’re the victim of Jisung's idiocy today." Hyunjin hands her napkins, attempting to ease her through the awkwardness with his charming smile. He shoots Jisung a withering glare, getting a sheepish look and shrug in reply.

"I guess I should get going," Heather says. She rises from her seat in a hurry, but a hand over hers gives her a reason to wait.

Hyunjin.

Minho's expression is closer to amusement than jealousy, watching as his friend calls his girlfriend - by her actual name, not the nickname you've given her.

Maybe Hyunjin's crush hasn't disappeared yet. If he and Heather get together, then Minho would be yours again. Everything would fall perfectly in place.

"We don't live that far from each other. I'll take you home." Hyunjin pauses, turning to Minho who's sneaking cake onto Jisung's plate. "If that's fine with your boyfriend?"

"Whatever she wants," Minho says with a shrug. He doesn't seem to be worried about Hyunjin stealing away his girlfriend, which boosts your confidence in your own chances with him.

"Yeah," you enthusiastically agree, nodding your head. "Hyunjin's a nice guy. Have a wonderful evening!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes, scowling at you, instead of being grateful that you're helping him out. One day, he'll figure it out, and thank you.

You lean close to her so that only she - and Hyunjin, perhaps - can hear. "You might even fall for him instead of Minho."

Hyunjin scoffs at your words with an exaggerated eyeroll and drags Heather out the door before you can say anything else.

Seungmin leaves soon after them, muttering something about an assignment that you don't really bother paying attention to.

And then it's just Minho, Jisung and you.

"We should head home too," Minho says. He gets up from the table and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. "It's movie night."

"Ah, right." Jisung sends you a wink, starting the next phase of your plan to set your story on track. "I've got some stuff I need to work on, so I'll have to trust you two to keep our tradition alive even if it’s not the same without me."

And then it was just Minho and you.

It's usually easy to forget Minho's girlfriends exist when they're not around. Often they fade into the background even when they are around.

Yet you find yourself alone with Minho, head in his lap, too distracted to actually watch the show that's playing on the TV. Too much on your mind to even enjoy this moment.

Minho's texting someone, wearing a smile as soft as the one he usually gives you before he wraps you in a hug.

The someone in question must be Heather. After all, who else could it be? The only real rival you've ever had when it came to Minho's affection and attention is Heather, right?

If there's no struggle, then it won't feel as special when you finally end up together. Heather isn't the heroine. That title belongs to you. You're the one that's always been with Minho. No one else knows him like you do- well, maybe Jisung does. That's a different story though.

If you're the heroine, then why do you feel like you're in second place? Are you falling into a background role in your own story? Could it be you're simply a side character in this tale?

Minho's fingers run through your hair, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You're the one here with him, not Heather. You're the heroine, not her. There's still hope.

“I like you,” you blurt. It's far from the confession you had planned, especially since you weren't even the one who was supposed to be saying the words first. Sometimes you need to improvise to get the perfect scenes, so it's ok. “I like you so much.”

Minho’s hand stops stroking your hair. He doesn’t take it away, so you don’t attempt to sit up. You want to be close to him, for as long as you can.

Any moment now, he'll admit his feelings for you and you'll be the one beside him instead of Heather.

You know that, but if somehow these are the last moments you’ll have with him, you want to remember them being pleasant. Besides, you don’t exactly want to look at his face right now. The aftermath of a confession is more mortifying than you imagined, especially when you haven't gotten an answer in return.

“I know,” he says.

And that’s it. He doesn't say anything else. And you don't have the courage to ask what your words meant to him.

The couple on screen breaks up and eventually makes up, but you don't even remember their names anymore. Tears fall from your eyes and you wipe them away.

"I can't watch this anymore," you manage to whisper. It's not the drama that has you crying. You know it, and you know Minho probably does too. "I'll head home."

Minho doesn't try to stop you as you leave. As tempting as it is to turn back, you're too afraid that Minho's eyes won't be watching you.

Seungmin once explained some physics cat theory. Put a cat in a box with poison, and it could be both alive or dead as long you don't open it. If you don't check, the cat might still be alive. Something like that.

In your imagination, Minho is woefully watching as you walk away.

After the confession, it's a little hard. Minho isn't actively avoiding you, except he kind of is. He has the perfect excuses, plus the universe seems to be on his side. It's natural for the hero of the story to have exceptional luck.

As the heroine, you don't seem to have the same advantage. If anything, there's just been obstacles to your perfect ending. The biggest one turning out to be Minho himself.

You thought you didn't have to do anything and everything would fall into place by itself. Then when you took a chance and confessed, you were turned down. But even if he doesn't feel the same way now, you can't give up yet. It hurt when you realized you weren't on the same page as him, but there's still time for him to catch up, right?

You run into him after class, and he has to catch you before you stumble to the floor. It's a scene straight out of the kind of anime you love to watch. A sign for you to take another chance, except Minho speaks before you can.

"No."

You haven't even said a word, and you’ve already been shot down. An arrow through your heart, but it seems cupid isn't on your side.

Are you that obvious? Could Minho read minds? Does he really not like you?

"What? I didn't even ask-"

"I won't go out with you."

Ah. Well. Minho hasn't told you that he doesn't like you, though you aren't sure if you could handle hearing those words straight from him.

"That wasn't what I was going to say," you lie. Your voice is strained, and you can't meet his eyes, so maybe it's not believable. But you can't admit the truth, can you? "I wanted to ask if you had any movie recommendations."

Minho raises an eyebrow. He's not fooled. Still he goes along with it and makes some suggestions. Not that you’re really paying attention to his words as much as how his voice sounds.

Minho. It's always been Minho.

And you were the constant in his life, at least until Heather showed up.

It's hard to admit that she might have stolen the role that was meant for you, but you can't move ahead without accepting that.

Turns out Minho isn't just on a different page. The title of the book doesn't match either.

You are lost, clueless of what lies ahead. There's one thing you're certain of though.

Even if you’re disqualified as a heroine, your only hero is Minho.

♡ season one guide

♡ next episode

♡ please leave a comment, reblog with tags or send an ask to let me know what you think!!

#skz fic #stray kids ff #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids fiction #stray kids fluff #lee know drabble #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios #lee know series #stray kids series #skz series #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #skz ff

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rosanna-writer · 1 year ago

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WIP Wednesday

More rough stuff from my notes app that may or may not make it into we said hello eventually, depending on if I think it fits later on :)

"Why is it for the best that we won't be in Adriata until after Summer Solstice?" I said, trying not to let anxiety creep into my voice. So far, Calanmai had been the only holiday I'd experienced in Prythian, and that had been…well, eventful.

Rhys studied me over his glass, probably wondering why I'd waited until we were alone to ask. I tried not to squirm as I waited for an answer--now that the words were out of my mouth, it seemed silly to be afraid of a holiday.

"Superstition," he said eventually. "The solar courts are the only three that experience a change in seasons. The Summer Court doesn't have any particular sway over Night just because we're currently experiencing the summer season, but with the stories about how magic waxes and wanes, I'll confess it would worry me to attempt to steal from them on the shortest night of the year."

I kept eating as I considered that and attempted to ignore the violet eyes boring into me. Rhys was quiet, but he didn't have to say anything--his expression alone was an obvious request to say what I was thinking.

But in truth, I felt like a bit of an idiot for not having considered the connection between the seasons, the length of days and nights, magic, and the courts of Prythian. A part of me was glad I hadn't asked in front of everyone.

It did beg another question, though. One I'd have to ask carefully. "Do we….do anything for the Winter Solstice? Here in Night?"

"It's one of our most important days of the year."

Of course it was. I scowled. "That doesn't actually answer my question, Rhys."

"There are services in the temples, but few people actually attend, in all honesty. It's time off spent with family, feasting and exchanging gifts."

"That's all?"

Another feline smile. "Did you want there to be more?"

I stilled. Rhys couldn't know. I hadn't told anyone, and my shields were secure and had been for months now.

"Out with it, Feyre," he said. I started to tell him that there was nothing at all, but Rhys just rolled his eyes. "I'm not reading your thoughts, but it's clearly written all over your face that there's something you haven't mentioned."

"Promise you won't do anything with the information."

"No."

We glared at each other over our plates. A talon ran down my shields—playful, somehow. Not a threat at all.

"Rhysand…" My use of his full name was an obvious warning. He just smirked, and I realized I'd inadvertently turned this into a game for him. I sighed, unwilling to drag this out when he'd find out eventually. I mumbled, "I was born on the Winter Solstice."

He blinked in surprise. "You were born on the longest night of the year."

"Yes, but there's no reason to make a fuss about it." I knew Rhys, though. He'd fuss anyway.

#idk if i'll keep this because it might just read like filler #but i HAD to jot down Feyre's relief that her birthday isn't a Night Court sex holiday lmao #feysand #wip wednesday #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home

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ravenna222 · 2 years ago

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An unexpected beginning

Lmao sorry about the half-assed title, this is my first fic and I'm pretty nervous about it

Not to mention I wrote this in 10 minutes out of impulsivity so don't expect any quality writing really

Warnings: none (extremely sappy ending and possibly out of character sae)

pure fluff ♡

| slow burn | romance | engagement |

"Sae!"

"What now?"

"I told you it's fine, I don't need a bigger one, the one you got me is just fine!"

Your boyfriend, now future fiancé, was being a pain in the ass. It's difficult to discern what's going through his mind, and god damn how helpful it would be to know sometimes. Itoshi Sae is a mystery to everyone, no one can fathom the emotions behind those bored eyes, apart from you. Let's say to you he's more of a puzzle, you've put a part of it together, the outer parts, but you're struggling tremendously on the inside. To think you were just a waitress at a coffee shop he'd always go to extremely early before practice so he could avoid any unwanted paparazzi encounter, always wearing a black cap and a pair of sunglasses. In the beginning he never quite stood out to you, I mean he was just a simple guy in a simple outfit, the same old sweatpants and sweater, there was nothing quite particular about him. Perhaps that was before you had gotten a clear glimpse of the sea of emeralds hidden under those shades.

You remember it clearly, it was as if a fever hit you. They were dull, yes there was certainly no denying that, but they were deep and alluring. You had been bewitched! Or maybe unknowingly it was the other way round. Sae is so used to being recognised wherever he treads, taunted by the paparazzi, tormented by fans, oh and don't get him started on the constant buzz of his phone. It was nice, almost refreshing, being treated like a normal person.

Whenever he passed by he always hoped it was you who served him, you treated him like another client, unlike your colleagues who would constantly fawn over him, hearing mumbles and squeals such as "omg the sae itoshi", "i can't believe he's right in front of me!"

Perhaps it was because you too were a foreigner, another thing which brought you both closer, you didn't watch football apart from the occasional international match but overall the sport isn't very popular in your country, hence you didn't know who he was. Overtime you figured it out, a football prodigy, "Japan's national treasure", though it didn't mean much to you, you were a simple waitress working a part time job whilst studying at a University in Madrid.

You two were foreigners still adapting to a new lifestyle, a new culture, a new language.

Initially there would be a mere exchange of words, moreso you trying to awkwardly start a conversation: "How was your coffee?", "Would you like to try our new freshly baked pastries?" But Sae hated small talk, yet he seemed to find the energy to not glare at you every time you spoke.

He's known for his lean and muscular body, slowly earning the title of sex symbol, his flawless facial alignments, those enchanting eyes, however he was also known for his "do not waste my time" attitude, but somehow it made him appear even sexier to the public, certainly not to the poor interviewers who had to suffer in silence.

One time he was rushing away from the paparazzi, you were just opening the café as he rushed in almost making you fall. 'How rude' you thought, 'not even an apology?'

But those thoughts quickly vanished into thin air when you were met with pleading eyes. He wanted to get away from all the reporters, the people, the world. He was almost panicking. He could usually deal with everyone by brushing them off with that nonchalant stare of his, but today was different. He had enough. Thankfully you were the only one there at the time so you decided to hide him in the backroom, where you brought him a glass of water to calm down. Five minutes later, with all the paparazzi gone, he came out of his hiding spot and with a half-assed 'thank you' he made his way out. Gosh you were furious, nonetheless a crimson red flushed your cheeks. A note with his number and a little thank you written below.

And that's how it all started, to think you would be already picking your engagement ring after 3 years of dealing with this man. He proposed to you during a midnight walk along the seaside, Sae has always found comfort in the sea and that's why there was no better place to propose, but there was one problem: the ring. Even though the ring he got you was one he knew you'd like, he thought it was unworthy of you because it was so small, he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to make sure you were happy with the ring. It was nothing too extravagant or big, it was simple but embellished just right

"Seriously Sae, love it. Stop being so stubborn! It's perfect for me, gosh. Why are you worrying so much about this?"

Sae groaned, he was definitely being too worrisome about this and he was well aware of it.

"Y/n, I don't want to make any mistakes-"

"Sae, sweety, I love you and I love this ring. Now can we go home and get some rest? The shop's about to close".

"Yeah sure, but don't go complaining or flip out on me if you suddenly don't like it".

You laugh to yourself, hopefully you're going to be stuck with this drama queen for the rest of your life.

#sae itoshi #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #cringey romance #sae x reader #slow burn

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driftward · 1 year ago

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Title: What Vengeance Brings Characters: Nehra Mewrilah, Estinien Varlineau Summary: Nehra has long kept Estinien at arm's length, viewing his obsession with vengeance as a life long character flaw that fed his reckless behaviour and resulted in tragedy for so many. Now, under the shadow of what is left of the Garlemald Empire, they are forced to face their own struggle with what vengeance means. Notes: This was written as part of a gift exchange between a fair number of Final Fantasy XIV artists and writers, as organised by Sasslett! (Sassanova on Ao3). This is my gift for dreadwormz. Being entrusted with someone else's character is such a treat, as well as a privilege I take seriously, and I have been pleased to been able to make this for them. Enjoy!

The party was situated around the campfire, having decided to stop for the night. The moogles had been equal parts pleasant and exasperating, but they had their guide, now, and the path to Hraesvalgr was clear.

Alphinaud held his cup in his hands, looking into its depths. “I certainly hope he will be open to our audience,” he said.

“Chin up, boy,” said Estinien. “If Hraesvalgr will not receive our parlay, then Nidhogg shall receive my spear. Even now I can sense his fury from his aery. An end to this, one way or another.”

Nehra felt Ysayle tense, ready to begin the argument anew, but they beat her to it.

“Even after all this time, and all that we’ve worked towards, and you can still think of nothing except your damnable vengeance! This is supposed to be a mission of peace, Estinien.”

Estinien snorted. “Aye. And I will see that peace, one way or another… Warrior of Light.”

Nehra glowered at him. “Can you even see past your hate and fury? We’re trying to make something good here. A lasting peace. Something besides more blood and death, can’t you see that?”

“What I can see,” said Estinien, dryly, “is the lichyards of my countrymen fallen to that wyrm. I am dedicated to the cause of our little lordling here, but should it fail, I will not hesitate to do what is necessary.”

“Enough!” cried out Alphinaud. “I know that we have been on this road for a very long time. Can we not set aside our differences for but a few malms longer? We shall seek our audience from Hraesvalgr, and then we shall decide what to do from there.”

Ysayle got up and turned away from the rest of them, heading for her tent. With one last glare at Estinien, Nehra went after her.

~*~

Fandanial’s mocking laughter faded along with him, leaving Nehra out in the cold, under the looming shadows of the wrecks of the towers that were once Garlemald.

He had not dumped them straight on top of danger, for a blessing, but around them, Nehra could see addled soldiers and malfunctioning magitek aimlessly drifting around the streets.

They could feel their very soul freeze, not quite succumbing to panic, but close to.

This body they were inhabiting was off. It was too tall, limbs too long, and Nehra found the height almost dizzying. Their soul was tied to this body somehow, and they could feel a wave of nausea threatening to overcome them.

Despite the heavy armor that this body came with, Nehra felt naked, exposed. It was as though they had been laid bare to the world. They tried to call to the aether, but found themselves blocked and sealed away from it. This body had no access to those precious energies, and trying to draw from them threatened their grip on it.

Had they ever been this helpless.

Not just the body. The entire situation. Their friends were out of reach. A monster had taken their proper body, and was now on his way to mete out his sick amusement. Fandanial was unquestionably nearby, watching, laughing at his own cleverness.

Nehra felt empty.

They looked outwards, finding out for themselves which direction Camp Broken Glass would be in, and began to head towards it, keeping their head low, a tight grip on their borrowed weapon.

They would find their way home.

All they had to do was ignore that void in their chest gnawing at the edges of their soul.

~*~

Nehra watched, transfixed, as Hraesvalgr swept around the mighty Imperial flagship Gration.

Estinien crossed his arms, watching next to her.

“What is he doing?” asked Wedge nervously.

Nehra did not answer, frowning, watching closely as the mighty dragon rose high into the sky, corkscrewing as a single lone figure dropped from his back.

Nehra felt their heart go to their throat. “Ysayle!”

“What is that mad woman doing?” muttered Estinien.

Ysayle plummetted from the sky, two wyverns flanking her, and Nehra could only watch as she took the form of Shiva, the mighty Primal of ice.

The Enterprise Excelsior bucked as it twisted and turned, avoiding another barrage of Imperial gunfire, but it was no longer the primary target of the dreadnought’s strength. Guns turned to the new threat, rockets and bullets being exchanged with ice and winter storm.

Nehra held her breath. Could Ysayle do it?

Mighty spears of ice stabbed into the hull of the Gration, even as frost coated its engines and smoke began to pour out from its flanks, as ceruleum froze and machinery seized.

What did not freeze, however, were the ship’s main guns. Peppering the sky with flack, they at last found their mark, once, twice, many times, over and over and over again. With each hit, a puff of snow and ice flew into the air, as Shiva’s ice armor held out.

But not forever.

Nehra could only watch, helpless, as Shiva’s form dissipated. The two wyverns flanking her fell, and shortly after, Ysayle fell with them.

Nehra lunged out a hand towards Ysayle, as though she could reach across the distance and pluck her from the air. Next to her, Estinien rushed forward, holding onto a brace as he leaned out, his body tense as though to follow after her.

“I’m going to try to make a break for it. Hang on!” said Cid.

The Gration fell behind as the Enterprise Excelsior broke away, making for the floating island of Azys Lla.

And Ysayle fell away through the clouds. And as she did, Nehra’s heart fell with her.

~*~

Nehra felt so helpless.

They dug through the ruins of Garlemald, finding supplies as they went along, patching what they could into the armor from salvage that they found, applying medicine as best as they were able with fingers that were too large against a body that was too frail.

The emptiness gave way to something else, a dogged determination, and the beginnings of something simmering inside of them.

Something had gone terribly wrong in the world and had left Nehra here in this magitek armor in this abandoned body that was not theirs in the corpse of this once great city, but Nehra could make it right. Had to make it right. Had to make it home.

Had to get to their friends and loved ones before Zenos did.

Determination fueled them at first, but they felt it began to wane, as Nehra had to strike down victims of this nightmare much like themselves. But where Nehra still at least had their sanity, many of the soldiers they ran across had lost their minds to the enthrallment of that awful tower.

But not all of them.

Nerha found themselves standing alongside the survivors of Garlemald.

The survivors counted them as one of their own, because of course they did. Nehra looked exactly like one of their officers, this body clad in the armor of one of their fallen, but the others didn’t know that, and Nehra couldn’t figure out how to make this body speak to tell them otherwise, and had no desire to do so anyroad.

But they were just as hopeless as Nehra was, perhaps more so, and as Nehra gazed upon these people, just struggling to survive, something inside of them shifted, and ignited.

Nehra was not the only victim.

Nehra’s family was going to be the next victim.

Nehra would not allow that to happen.

Nehra would be the last victim of that madman.

The strength of determination faded and gave way to something far more puissant. The fire of vengeance began to burn, and Nehra found it potent indeed.

Nehra banded together with these poor remnants of Garlemald as they attempted to survive, facing off against rogue magitek weaponry.

This body was so tired, but Nehra swallowed its weakness, and pushed it forward, harder, further.

They had to get home. They had to find out.

They had to find out what that monster planned to do, was doing, with their friends.

They had to stop him and his toady.

This was just one more step on the journey. They would catch up to Zenos, and Fandanial.

They could do something about this.

They could fix this.

They pulled others to their feet, and charged into the fray.

They could end Zenos and Fandanial.

They took fire from wandering weapons platforms, and pressed on.

They had to.

They were flung through the air as a magitek fuel cell exploded, nearly ending them.

They fought on.

They crawled along the ground, grinding the teeth of this body so hard they could feel the ache, the muscles in its legs burning, the fire in their soul licking out, threatening to consume them.

They had to stop him, and nothing else mattered.

~*~

Nehra looked down at what remained of Archbishop Thordan the VII.

Last of his line.

His last words, “What are you?”, echoed in their mind.

Nehra felt their arms go lax, and dropped their weapon. They were so, so, tired.

Was this what end Ysayle had bought with her blood? Was it worth it?

“…is it over, then? I had hoped that mine would be the hand to end it… but knowing you, there was little chance of that.”

Nehra bristled at Estinien’s words, but closed their eyes, and took a deep breath in before letting it out slow. They would not let Estinien get to them. Too much had been lost this day already.

And besides, they were exhausted. They felt as though they had ran every malm between Ishgard and Azys Lla, and perhaps in a way, they had.

The moment called for grace, not candor. So they turned to Estinien, and held out Nidhogg’s eye to him.

“‘Twould seem the Eye has served you well,” said Estinien, taking it. Nehra just watched as he walked over to Thordan’s sword, the last remaining artifact of the Heaven’s Ward, and reached down to pluck out the other dragon eye that its hilt had been formed around.

“Its twin… At long last… All that remains is to take them beyond the reach of man and dragon both. With this task accomplished, my toils shall finally be at an end.”

And theirs as well, Nehra thought. And perhaps after all this, they could take the time to mourn Ysayle properly. To remember her as she should be remembered.

A beautiful light just trying to bring some brightness to this dark world.

A crack of aether brought Nehra’s attention sharply back to Estinien. The twin eyes of Nidhogg roiled with blood red aether, and Nehra could feel the fury blooming off of them, a sickly miasma that burned at the edges of their very self and churned their insides on themselves.

“Thou hadst done well to resist mine influence, bathed in my power and blood as thou wert,” intoned the dark voice of Nidhogg in draconic, somehow speaking from beyond the grave. “Alas, in thine anticipation of comfort, thou hast lowered thy guard!”

Nehra’s breath quickened as the world seemed to slow down. They were uncertain as to what to do. Approaching Estinien seemed a fool’s task, the heat of the fury coming off of them warning Nehra away. But to flee was not in their nature and out of the question. They had to do something. Just a few moments longer, and they were certain they could figure something out..

“The keening of my fallen kindred… their smoldering desire for vengeance… mine eyes have partaken of a thousand years of pain-a pain which I shall bestow upon thee! Drink deep of my rage, mortal… AND BECOME ME!”

An explosive wave of heat blew through Nehra and they felt themselves go cold despite it, shielding their eyes before its powerful waves, and when at last they lifted their head once more, Estinien stood there no longer.

In his place was the embodiment of generations of pain and anger, the manifestation of vengeance itself.

Nidhogg.

With a roar, he took off, and Nehra could do nothing but watch as he flew into the sky.

Nehra gritted their teeth as their ears folded back and their tail thrashed. Vengeance was not done exacting its price today, not just yet, it seemed.

~*~

They could see themself.

This body was tired. They were now part of it, a soul clinging to a body that was not theirs. Their soul, its tendrils strung through the body of this thing, a puppeteer’s strings all tangled in the ribs of a corpse, and this body was so, so tired.

But they pushed it, dragged it, cajoled it, and through sheer willpower, managed to drive it to this point, here, now.

They could see themself.

It was not at all like looking in a mirror. It was wrong. They looked wrong.

And they were grabbing ahold of Y’vdola. Their hand, on Y’vdola’s arm, leering at her, leaning close, threatening her.

Their Dola.

Their wife.

Nehra almost felt themself vanish in the white hot ignition of sheer rage that burned through their entire soul and seemed to threaten to light the body they were inhabiting on fire. Aether had not come to them yet for this entire wretched journey, but it flared now in the heat of their fury, leaping to them, as they felt themselves become soul fire itself. They wrenched their sword up in an overhand grasp, and with a powerful heave, their power flowed into it, and they speared it across the field.

The sword slammed into Nehra’s right thigh.

It may well have ended a lesser being. As it was, Zeno’s grip on their body faltered, and Nehra watched themself fall.

Even as their own grip on the shambling wreck they had been steering faltered, the last burn of effort being too much to continue to maintain a grip.

Fandanial chose now to appear, of course.

The bastard.

Nehra was going to teach him that there was enough room in this grave for two.

But not just yet.

He taunted Nehra, declared the little experiment over, that the time was just about up, but Nehra could barely hear him for the rushing of the fire in their ears.

They both would die. Zenos first. It mattered not what body he inhabited. He would never get the chance to harm anything that mattered to them ever again.

~*~

Nehra glared up at the tower, and clenched their fist. Their body was theirs once more, and Zenos and Fandanial had fled, and the group was determining what needed to be done.

“We go after him, that’s what we do,” they declared. They could feel the fury burning inside of their veins, and they could feel its power in their own voice, almost as if roaring from a distance, as they spoke. “We storm the tower, find them both, and we kill them. Put an end to all of this, one way or another.”

Nehra turned to see the others looking at one another. Alphinaud cleared his throat and spoke first. “Well, yes, obviously, that is naturally our next course of action, but I was rather hoping to speak of how we might go about doing that, exactly.”

“What is there to talk about? We’ve got the people. We’ve got weapons. We gather our forces, and we storm the tower.”

“We must needs plan our exact methods and not rush in rashly,” said Y’shtola, and damn her for being reasonable. “Word needs to be disseminated, and we must needs be diligent about our preparations, lest we come to an ill end.”

“Fine. Let me go first. I’ll rush the tower my damned self,” said Nehra.

“Surely you do not mean that!” said Alphinaud.

Estinien was standing nearby, his arms crossed, but he was almost staring at Nehra. She glared at him, meeting his eyes. His brow furrowed, but his gaze did not break.

Nehra looked away first, feeling her face burn as she looked to the ground.

“…no. No, I guess I don’t,” she said sullenly. “Fine. We make our plans. But as soon as we’re able, I want to strike.”

She looked up at the group, and saw heads slowly nodding, some more reluctantly than others.

Damn them all and damn their caution.

She turned away from the group suddenly, stalking off. “Start the planning without me. I’ll be back.”

“Nehra, wait -” began G’raha, but they did not listen to him. They were too angry. Too upset, and they had neither the time nor the patience for any of their friends just now.

How did they not understand? How could they not understand? Zenos had threatened them all, he had almost hurt them, under Fandanial’s mocking words. And the longer they took to go after both of them, the more time they had to scheme and come up with more wretched plans of their own.

Nehra would see their blood in the snow before the day was out if they had anything to say about it.

They walked through and around buildings, past people and boxes, angrily ignoring refugee and ally alike. Nehra stalked past them all, not seeing or hearing anything until they at last looked up to see where they were going.

They were in a clearing. Behind them, the small little spot of civilization that the Garlean Contingent had managed to make into a temporary home. In front of them, the gnarled trunks of frozen forest, dark in the unforgiving winter.

Nehra turned once more towards the menacing tower that dominated the landscape and loomed over everything, dwarfing even the tall spires of the ruins of the capital of Garlemald.

And nearby, far nearer than he had any right to be, was Estinien.

They had been dodging him practically since he had joined the Scions properly, after the events of the First, but there was no ducking him this time, and a part of Nehra didn’t want to. A part of Nehra wanted this, now. The opportunity to vent their frustrations on him. Anger welled up, but Nehra realised it had nowhere to go just now, but they dug in anyway.

“What do you want, Estinien?” Nehra practically snarled at him.

Estinien just raised his head at them, and tilted it ever-so-slightly. They turned away from him, but began to pace around him, and tried not to think too much about how much they were like a predator circling its prey.

“I came to look after you. It is not like you to be so full of rancor.”

“And you would know a lot about that, now, wouldn’t you?”

“I would, aye.”

Nehra paused, stopping. How long had they known Estinien, that they did not anticipate his candor? Even next to the likes of Y’shtola, Estinien tended to be blunt and to the point.

“Well what about it. I hope you weren’t planning on lecturing me on how righteous my anger is or isn’t, especially after everything that happened back in Ishgard.”

“You seek vengeance.”

“You’re damned right I do.”

“I know where such a path leads.”

“Do you intend to try to stop me, then?”

“No. Nor do I want to. When I went to face Nidhogg in the aery, despite my rage, my need for vengeance, your vision was clearer than mine, and you saw the necessity of the work. You went with me, despite your misgivings. It is much the same now. Your vision remains clearer than mine, no matter how bad your need for revenge may cloud it. These mad men need to be stopped, and I intend to be with you every step of the way.”

“Then what, Estinien? What could be so important that you’ve followed me all the way through camp and halfway to the woods to tell me?”

“You aim to go into that loathsome tower and see an end to the former crown prince, and none will gainsay you, and nor shall I. But I cannot help but wonder what toll you are willing to charge for the privilege.”

“What toll? How can you ask that? I’m going to stop them, Estinien. By any means I can bring to bear. I will see an end to their pointless, useless campaign of terror and bring peace to these lands.”

“And what of the people of Garlemald?”

“I would think they’d be grateful. But whatever they do, they’d better stay out of my way.”

“And your own?”

“I’m doing this for them! They can either help or get out of my way too.”

“And once you’ve killed him, once you have sated your righteous anger, what then?”

Nehra stopped pacing, and faced Estinien, throwing her hands out to the side.

“I don’t know. What do you mean, what then? Nothing! Then nothing, because he’ll be dead, and everyone will be safe!”

“Will they?”

Nehra’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that, Estinien.”

Estinien’s words were harsh, but his tone… his tone was gentle.

“Have you forgot that mad woman’s screed so easily? She rejected my rage, my righteous anger, perhaps even more stridently than you. Because she believed, and though she was wrong about a great many things, she was right in her own way about one. Vengeance begets vengeance, but it will never bring you peace.”

“How dare you,” said Nehra. “I cared for Ysayle. More than you can know. I failed her. I will not fail -”

They stopped themself, and clenched their fist.

Estinien looked out over the snow, and continued as though Nehra had not said anything. “I remember standing in that room with you, Thordan’s plans undone. Do you remember Nidhogg’s words? About the anticipation of my coming comfort? But while it may have been hope for release from that burden that caused me to lower my guard, that was not what let him in.

“It was the hollowness that had been left in my soul in the wake of what I had thought to be the fulfillment of my vengeance. Aye, I had killed Nidhogg. But doing so had not brought me peace. My parents, my family, my countrymen. They were all still dead. And I had never had to face that, not truly. I let my need for vengeance blind me from the pain of my heart. And for that, I paid dearly.”

Estinien looked at Nehra. “Are you willing to pay the same price?”

“Any price to keep my friends and loved ones safe.”

“And I ask you again, will they be safe? What will you do, to always keep them safe from this world? There will always be another threat, another to call enemy. Shall you wait for it to come to you? Or will you search it out, eager to stop a perceived danger before it can rise too far? Knowing that your actions will never lead to the peace you wish?”

Estinien looked up at the night sky. “Even when you become the last one standing amongst the ashes of your enemies.”

Nehra stared at Estinien.

“He - he threatened you, Estinien. He threatened my wife, Estinien. He’s - he would see us all dead.”

“Aye, that he would,” said Estinien. “And what will be left behind, once he’s dead?”

Nehra looked down at their hands.

“I ran from the faces of my parents. What are you running from?” asked Estinien, quietly.

Nehra squeezed their eyes shut. They could feel a tension in their chest. They could feel a pain gripping their heart. They could see it, in their mind’s eye -

“My wife,” said Nehra, their voice hushed and harsh. “I could - I couldn’t save Ysayle. She trusted me, and I couldn’t keep her alive. And my wife - my wife trusted me. She - she saw my face, and she trusted me, and I almost failed her. I - I can’t fail her again, Estinien. I - I’m sorry. I can’t. I just… I just can’t.”

Even as the words spilled out of them, they could feel the tears begin to spill out of their soul and down their cheeks, hot fire burning rivulets into their memory, seeing again as their own body, driven by Zenos, reached out and grabbed Y’vdola’s arm.

Seeing Ysayle fall through the sky.

They had never felt so helpless. They sunk into the snow slowly, and they wailed, as their fury broke, and the grief behind it welled.

Estinien was right.

Damn him, he was right. And they were hollow.

“You must find me cold comfort indeed,” said Estinien, his voice still quiet. “But consider that there are those that you care about that still yet live. Go. Face them. Talk to them.”

Nehra took a deep, shuddering breath in, and then nodded, standing up again. The two returned to the house where the Scions were staying, walking in silence. The pain receded as they went along, as Nehra found themselves, at last, able to face what they had feared all along, inside of themselves. And as they went, Nehra found Estinien’s presence oddly comforting as they went back, even as they felt themselves quiet inside, the fire receding, and leaving behind the aching pain.

The fear of it all. The terror. The sorrow. The feeling of helplessness.

But now, Nehra would face those feelings, accepting each as they came. Even as they came to a stop outside where they were staying, Estinien looking Nehra over one last time before opening the door for them.

Nehra looked up to him, and he nodded, just once. Without returning the gesture, they took in a deep breath, summoned up their courage, and walked inside, to find the waiting faces of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn looking back at them.

Among them, the face of their wife.

Estinien closed the door behind them, as Nehra shared with them their fears and concerns, and accepted the comfort of their friends, and at last, began the plan of how they would confront this latest threat to the star.

And perhaps beginning to heal.

~*~

It was late when Nehra sought out Estinien and found him leaning against a wall, his arms crossed, as was typical. He barely acknowledged their presence as they approached, his hooded eyes that seemed to miss little, flickering over to look them over before returning to gaze away.

Only this time, Nehra thought they saw a glimmer of light in them. How long had that light been there?

How long had Nehra willfully ignored it?

Nehra clasped their hands behind them as they settled in to lean against the wall next to Estinien.

“We are still going after him,” they said.

“I should certainly hope so,” replied Estinien.

He was not as talkative as he had been in the clearing, and fell silent. Nehra, in turn, did not know how to say what they needed to say.

So they just said it.

“I have been avoiding you since you joined us. Or being short with you when we did have to interact. I haven’t been fair to you, and… and I’m sorry. I’m going to try to be better about that.”

“Hmph. I shall hold you to that.”

Nehra just smiled and snorted a bit at that.

“…thank you.”

“All I did was prattle on too much on matters you would’ve figured out on your own. I just thought to maybe get to them sooner, rather than later. Better, before the regrets had a chance to settle in.”

“Yeah… I think I understand.”

“As I said. Your vision has always been clearer than mine. That’s why I’m here. And if I may be so bold… I think that is part of what she saw in you, too.”

Nehra felt the pang of memory.

“Ysayle.”

“Aye. That mad woman… she was my friend too, in the end.”

Nehra nodded, at last, accepting it.

“You’re still with me, then?”

“So long as you march ever forward, my spear will be at your side,” said Estinien, before smirking at Nehra. “So no, I’m afraid you’ll not be rid of me so easily.”

“What - you’re impossible, you know that?”

“That is what she said as well as you recall, aye.”

“Well, she was right!”

The two looked at one another, and then they both fell into laughter, which faded away quickly, but something had changed between them. They were not yet as friends, perhaps.

But they had found something, at last, to build on between them. Something more than the foundation of vengeance would have allowed them.

A better future.

#final fantasy xiv #biot writes #gift exchange #nehra mewrilah #estinien varlineau #endwalker #what vengeance brings #202307-09

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shootingstarwritings · 2 years ago

Text

FEStival Fiasco

Part 6

Phecda’s little safe house was near the outskirts of the exam site. A simple apartment building with walls neatly decorated as though a prince lived in them.

‘Maybe that’s why he picked that host,’ thought Centaurus as he made his way down the halls and towards the lobby. Everything was far too pristine, far too unnaturally beautiful. It wasn’t unlike the buildings back at Terras, home world. This place was probably familiar for an Elite like him.

Elite…

“Worms don’t make for such fine test subjects,” Phecda had said. The words still bothered Centaurus. What had he been trying to imply? And did Centaurus want to know? Just the idea of being considered a ‘test subject’ annoying him to no end.

“Is he saying I’m not a worm…?” Centaurus muttered out loud. A few passing residents spared him a glance, the curiosity clear in their expressions. However, Centaurus didn’t pay them much mind. He only wanted to see if their body language betrayed any intent to fight.

Was Phecda suggesting that Centaurus was somehow better than his peers?

“Sunuvabitch,” he muttered as he walked past the automatic doors. Golden flowers and vines made of fine metals decorating the glass. The sheer lavishness of it all made him ill. He was glad to be leaving the building. Taking his first step forward, his gaze instantly shifted to the professor leaning up against the wall just a few feet away from the entrance.

Professor Polaris’ eyes didn’t widen when they wandered over to Centaurus. His pose, lax shoulders and a hunched back, remained static as he spoke up. “Ah! Quite fortunate, seeing you here,” he said, lazily raising his arm in a small greeting. Despite his attempts to seem casual, he had been expecting Centaurus. Polaris should’ve been at least a bit surprised or had some sort of reaction to seeing him.

‘What is he playing at?’ thought Centaurus. ‘He was waiting for me.’

Even after several hours, Polaris retained the same host. For whatever reason, whenever he found a body he didn’t seem to enjoy discarding it until the mission was over. Centaurus had once overheard a student from another class refer to Polaris as ‘overly sentimental.’

“How have you been, Centaurus?” said Polaris as he approached. “I trust your tasks have been finished?”

“Professor,” said Centaurus with a curt nod. “Is there something you need?” Answering his question, for whatever reason, didn’t feel right at the moment. It’d be better to just remain discreet. Centaurus also noticed that Polaris’ stance was unusually lax. His knees were straight, his hands were in his pockets, and his feet weren’t far apart. Weren’t soldiers, especially those with stories histories like Polaris, supposed to be more serious? Despite how little humans knew of their existence, the planet was still enemy territory.

“No, not quite what I need. But I do wish to inform of some of your classmates’ conditions. Particularly that of Alcor.” Centaurus’ eyes widened, and he cursed his sudden reaction.

“What does Alcor have to do with me?” he said, attempting to remain casual.

Polaris shrugged. “From what I can tell, nothing. But that reaction is certainly interesting. Usually you just shrug and dismiss me whenever I discuss your classmates with you.”

“Well, what’s the news on Alcor?”

“He’s gone,” said Polaris, eyes brimming with… pride? Amusement? Centaurus couldn’t tell. “Left the testing grounds, and it doesn’t appear he’s returning. For all intents and purposes, he has gone AWOL.”

“Oh, I’m surprised,” said Centaurus with a shrug. He had managed to regain his composure. Just a few more exchanges and he’d walk away and be home free. “For all his talk, I wouldn’t have guess he’d just up and vanish. Guess he was all bark and no bite.” He said, forcing a snicker.

“Aww… is that any way to talk about your new friend?” Despite his teasing words, Polaris’ eyes almost looked sympathetic. Centaurus didn’t respond. He dropped his arms to the sides and glared at his professor. “You know, Centaurus… to live freely is to give other freedom. To gift him that chance to escape, that opportunity to shape his own life and future, is something beautiful. Did it feel rewarding?”

“...Why aren’t you reprimanding me?” asked Centaurus, narrowing his eyes. “You almost sound proud of me. Why? Shouldn’t I be…I don’t know, expelled? Punished? Even just scolded?”

Polaris didn’t stop smiling. Instead, he turned around and gestured for Centaurus to follow. “Walk with me. We should talk privately.” Before Centaurus could respond, Polaris had already begun walking off. They were headed towards a more populated part of the fair. Not far from them was a closed, unattended booth. That was most likely his destination.

“H-Hey, wait damn it!” Centaurus ran to catch up with Polaris’ stride. The professor’s host had longer legs, and he almost seemed determined to leave him behind. “Asshole…” Centaurus muttered once he finally caught up. “… it was bittersweet.”

“Hmm?”

“You asked me how it felt—with Alcor. It felt, still feels, bittersweet.” It had been a brief connection, but it was one of the few that Centaurus had ever made. To watch it go and ride off towards a land promising freedom tore at his heart. It was difficult not being envious. “He’s fine, he’ll be happy, out there. But, I’m still here. Still the same.” He looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to descend, dyeing the world a vivid orange. Everyday, the sky changed hues.

“I try to change,” continued Centaurus, looking down at his rough, scarred hands. It was unfamiliar to him, and yet he still remained the same worm he always was. The faces he wore and the memories he ingested were all different, yet the scars he bore and the faint hope he clung onto remained the same.

Static. Stagnant.

“I wish I could’ve gone with him. I wish I could’ve escaped and shaped my own future with my own hands. But I was scared.” His voice cracked as he spoke. His host’s heart was racing, each thump an agonizing reminder of his own life. Why had he survived while other worms didn’t? Why did he continue to live? “I always thought becoming a Dreadfighter, becoming someone, would bring me happiness and freedom. And maybe it will. But I still wonder why I didn’t just run away with my friend. Why just being someone to Alcor wasn’t enough to let me run alongside him.” He looked up at Polaris. “Professor, did I make the right choice? Or am I just weak?”

“I can’t say,” he said. “No one can know what choice is the right one. We simply choose and allow the consequences to play out. If we don’t like them, we just deal with outcome and make another choice later down the line. That’s what life is, Centaurus. That’s the beauty and terror of freedom.” Polaris raised his arm and stopped Centaurus in his tracks. “And you made your decision. You chose to help Alcor find freedom, Centaurus. Extending a hand out in kindness, even after facing so much abuse from others, from your own kind, takes a type of strength I deeply envy.”

Stepping forward to stand in front of Centaurus’ host, Polaris placed a hand on Centaurus’ borrowed chest and squeezed. “Your heart is scarred, and it remains strong. It’s so easy to hurt someone else because you’ve been hurt. But you chose differently, Centaurus. As your teacher, I am so very proud of the choice you made.”

“Professor, I…”

Before either of them could continue, “A-HEM,” a loud and deliberate cough cut them off. They both turned to face a round-faced women with a babbling infant in her hands. “Pride is important and all, but please don’t grope each other where kids can see you.” Polaris withdrew his hands, muttering a sheepish apology as his ears turned red. “Thank you.” With a huff, the woman walked off.

The two stood there in silence before Polaris let out a snicker. “Snrk…! Heheh…! Here I was trying to be all emotional that I forgot humans don’t share such intimacy with each other.” It wasn’t long before he was full-on laughing, shoulders bouncing up and down as that little embarrassed joy filled the air.

Centaurus joined in for a second with a few light-hearted chuckles, but remained paranoid the whole time. “Professor, what’s the real reason you wanted to speak to me?”

“Ah, yes, yes!” nodded Polaris. “Come. We should talk privately.” He walked over to the booth’s closed curtains and gestured for Centaurus to walk in. He didn’t. After a few moments of waiting, he nodded and said, “Smart. Don’t show your back to someone if you’re not 100% certain you can trust them.”

“It’s just common sense.”

“Not to those who can afford it. Those we call ‘Elites.’ I do apologize that to you it is common sense, Centaurus. Or for anyone, in that war-fueled society of ours.” Polaris stepped into the darkened booth first, and Centaurus cautiously followed.

“There’s a lot that needs to be said,” said Polaris, his voice dropping low and losing any of the levity it previously had. “And some that can only be shown to be believed. But I suppose there’s no easy way to ease someone into this next bit of news.

“Centaurus, our society relies on the weak thrown and killed on the front lines or dying in the mines for resources to fuel our machines and weapons to fight. Or even as slaves, not servants, to Elites who see them as lesser.” With each word he uttered, his voice became softer and somber. The look in his eyes, a bit harder to tell in the dark booth, grew dull and damp. It was as if speaking about this was sucking the life out of him.

“War and hierarchy are intrinsic parts of our society,” he continued. “And this decades-long war, having started long before I was even born, allowed for technological prosperity, but social stagnation. It makes sense, doesn’t it? We can’t move forward without risking stability, and no one wants that in the middle of wartime.

“But, Centaurus… you, me, and all who have died and lived in the 20 years have been living a lie. The war has been over. Our Emperor has made fools of us all.”

#male possession #alien possession #there's no actual penetration in this part #or possession #just plot #FEStival Fiasco

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sayonarasanity · 2 years ago

Text

Keep Me

this story is part two of “dandelion” but it can be read separately

link to AO3

"And I froze, and I reckon I missed it When all of the rain came down In the shape of everything"

The first time saw her, it was raining.

It had started to rain sometime after dawn. The roads were wet, dark, dreary clouds mobile, and on top of the lampposts were settled the crows. Levi watched them with squinted eyes and a discontent face. He never fancied the weather and the fact that the cuffs of his trousers were getting soaked despite his best efforts wasn’t helping either. Moreover, he absolutely disliked carrying an umbrella which in this case was a necessity he very much loathed and it irked him even further.

When he was merely steps away from the bus stop, he saw her. She was standing under the shelter, wearing a ridiculous, lilac-coloured raincoat, a pair of canvas trainers—which he did not understand the logic behind wearing in such weather—her hair was slightly wet as well as her glasses which were slipping down her nose and which was buried deep into whatever she was reading.

But none of that had piqued his interest, rather the fact that she was standing under the shelter and still carrying an umbrella was what annoyed him. Because why bother carrying it if it wasn’t functional anymore? But apparently, she was so preoccupied with her book that she hadn’t even noticed the double shelter and that there was no point in bending her arm to keep that thing above her head.

Anyway, none of his business. He gladly put down his own umbrella when he took shelter under the bus stop. Carefully folding it back and shaking off the raindrops so that it didn’t accidentally wet his coat. He merely threw one last glance at the woman to see if there was any progress. There wasn’t. Then he looked away and waited for his bus.

By the end of the day, he had long forgotten about her.

Or so he thought.

Levi hadn’t meant to sit down next to her. He genuinely hadn’t.

It had been a shitty week. Levi was almost a hundred per cent sure that his boss very much despised him. He must’ve done something to somehow cause the man to hold a grudge against him. There was no other explanation for the tones of work he had piled up on top of his desk. Even his co-workers, Erwin and Mike, had sent sympathetic glances towards him and it had annoyed him to no end. He needed no pity. The only thing he needed was peace and quiet. Maybe a house on top of a mountain, where no one could find him, a cat, tea, and a fireplace. Perhaps he would become a monk. It was better than having to find his way through such a fucked-up system.

As it turned out, they were taking the same bus to and from work. Levi wasn’t sure where she was getting on the bus in the evenings but after that rainy day at the bus stop, he was seeing her almost every morning. Not that they ever exchanged any words. She was most of the time busy reading books which varied every time he saw her. And later he also started to see her on his way home as well. The bus was usually packed, for it was rush hour, and it did no good to his quite intense nerves which were ready to snap any time like overly strained guitar strings. But even among the crowd of people somehow, she managed to stand out.

It was another day, Friday to be specific, and yet again the bus was fully packed, and Levi was on edge, literally. He almost punched a man who tried to squeeze next to him despite the fact that there was no place, not even the tiniest space in the goddamn bus to be squeezed in.

He did manage to stay calm, fortunately. And the bus pretty much emptied after two stops. His lungs were so glad to welcome the newfound oxygen that he had forgotten to sit down on one of the now empty seats.

Then, abruptly, he felt a pull on his coat and initially, he thought it was another stray brat of one of the passengers and he turned his head, sharply to glare at the poor child, only to find out that it was her. She was looking up at him from where she was seated and smiled when she saw him glaring at her. She didn’t seem even a slightly bit intimidated.

She patted the empty seat next to her, that smile never leaving her mouth. And he didn’t know what possessed him, or what controlled his body at the moment, yet he sat down next to her silently, without a word. Was he supposed to thank her? Did it matter? Was there anything to thank for? The seat was already empty, he would’ve sat down without her saying something anyway. But why did she—

“You seemed quite tense,” she talked, suddenly. Her voice was soft like cotton. And when he looked aside slightly bewildered, she offered him another smile. So easily. She seemed like she was doing it a lot. “And tired.”

Levi ignored that in order to realize those emotions she must’ve observed him throughout the drive. Although it didn’t require much of a study to see that he was absolutely tense and exhausted. And frankly, he didn’t understand why she would care about it either. “Thanks,” he said, dryly.

“No problem,” she chuckled.

That was the end of the conversation.

In the morning, Levi made a decision. Not that it took much of his time. The moment he had stepped out of the bus yesterday evening and the two of them went on with their separate ways without another exchange of words, he had settled his mind. That if he were to see her again this morning he would absolutely, without a doubt or hesitation ignore her. And if she were to try and talk to him again, he would keep his usual attitude. Stone-cold face and nonchalant eyes to show that he wasn’t interested in being friendly. It had always done the trick.

Hence you have no friends, the voice inside his head which so irritatingly resembled Mike, reminded him. He scoffed at his reflection in the mirror before leaving his home. Fixed his quite neat tie, smoothened his already perfectly straight coat, brushed off the invisible dust from his shoulders and walked out.

She didn’t come.

“You look grumpier than usual,” Mike told him, looking down at him from above the divide that separated them. It had been merely two hours since he sat down in front of this godforsaken computer, and the asshole was already being a headache. “What happened? Couldn’t find enough time to iron your boxers?”

“Not that,” Levi responded, staring up at him coldly. “But I’ll make sure to iron your dic—"

“You can talk to us if something is bothering you,” Erwin cut in. He was leaning to the side, picking a glance at where he was from the corner of the divide. Levi watched him briefly before carrying his eyes back to the computer. Erwin was being sincere, he knew. But there was nothing to talk about.

“It’s nothing,” he said, and by the tone of his voice, it was evident. The conversation was over.

The next day, she got into the bus seconds before the door was about to close. Levi watched her from where he stood, holding onto one of the handles above. She was out of breath and her face had flushed red. She must’ve run to catch the bus; her hair was so wildly scattered that Levi was surprised the hair tie was still in its respective place. And despite her quite strewn condition she graced the bus driver with a huge smile as she touched her card on the reader, saluting him with a very, unnecessarily, cheerful “Morning!”

Levi forced his gaze away when she started to walk into the bus. There was no seat available to sit, and the bus was already crowded enough for her to walk down any further. So, inevitably, or perhaps just because she felt like it, she came to a stop next to him, raising her hand to hold onto one of the handles.

His fingers curled tighter out of his control around the one he was grabbing, and he determinedly watched the view through the window across from him. Willed his mind to focus on the blurry images of the trees, buildings, billboards, rushing people, rolling cars… anything really, other than the fact that she was watching him as he could sense from the corner of his eye.

And he didn’t understand the reason why, they had only talked once and that was all. A couple of brief encounters and a small dialogue which barely contained any context meant nothing. Yet there she was, possibly about to make an attempt at small talk with him which was something he deeply—

“Morning.”

It wasn’t as festal as the one she had sent to the bus driver, yet Levi found himself directing his gaze towards her-- his indifferent gaze mind you, he was still adamant about the decision he had made. And she was smiling at him with twinkling, hazel-brown eyes which varied in colour when the rays of the morning sun touched them. It also highlighted the colour of her hair too which was something between chestnut brown and crimson sunset.

But why was he observing her? He blinked once, whisked the thought inside his head, then nodded curtly—just to show her that he appreciated it but also to indicate that he wasn’t interested in any further banter—then proceeded to watch the scene in front of him again.

And then when he least expected it, he heard her chuckle, again. Knitting his brows, he turned back to her.

“You’re not so chatty, are you?”

Her eyes were glinting with amusement. She wasn’t affected by his dismissive behaviour. Not at all. Then he would try another method. “Glad you noticed.”

She hummed, that smile seemed to be plastered on her face. It never left. “I am observant enough.”

Levi doubted it. She barely lifted her head from her books. Yet he remembered how she had noticed him being tired and tense that day. Although it wasn’t that hard to tell. She must’ve paid attention. But why? It shouldn’t be anything. She seemed like an outgoing person and clearly overly eager to make friends with everyone. Including the bus drivers and someone who so obviously did not share the same interest.

“It’s not rocket science,” he briefly said.

“Right, you’re easy to read.” When she saw him knitting his brows even deeper, she laughed. “No offence. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“Don’t care.” He looked away, once more. This time determined to never turn back again. He didn’t want her to talk anymore. Or… did he? What was this thing inside his stomach? Expectation, or dare he say hope?

Get a hold of yourself, man! The voice inside his head chided him. Holy God above, why was he hearing that bearded bastard’s voice even inside his head? Was peace really a no option for him?

The bus stopped, opening its doors for the new coming passengers. A little girl was the last one to get in. She was at most ten or eleven years old, wearing a pink coat and a purple backpack. Her hair was tied in two neatly done braids, falling down each of her shoulders. Her eyes scanned around as she walked down the bus, possibly in search of a safe place for her to stand. And just as she was about to pass by in front of him the bus made a sudden hard stop causing the little girl to lose her balance.

Levi didn’t think as he reflexively reached out to grab her arm so that she didn’t fall. And he waited until the girl was standing on her two feet again, securely. “Careful,” he told her as he let go of her arm.

The girl looked up at him and smiled, revealing her irregular teeth “Thank you,” she said before she turned around to hold onto the pole behind her.

It took him several seconds to realize that the person next to him was staring at him, again.

And that he was smiling.

“Not bad,” she whispered, hiding her smile by turning her head away when she saw him glaring at her after he wiped that stupid, barely visible smile off his face.

It seemed that for the first time in his life, Levi Ackerman had failed at not making a friend. And he didn’t know whether it was a good or a bad thing.

These brief conversations, and despite his best efforts to avoid them, the small talk slowly became something like a routine. Levi never initiated them though and they didn’t see each other every day. Sometimes he only saw her after work, but the bus would be so crowded to get near to each other. At times she managed to find a seat to settle she would be sleeping, head bouncing against the window and mouth parted. Her book left open and forgotten on top of her knees. If she wasn’t sleeping, she would bother him instead. Reluctantly, he would sit next to her when the bus emptied most of the passengers and she patted the available seat on her right or left.

In the mornings they mostly stood next to each other. Often it was quiet, much to his pleasure, yet she somehow found topics to talk about even though he was still pretty much a complete stranger to her. It was a capability out of the ordinary for sure. At least for Levi. And one he greatly lacked at that.

Her name was Hanji, he hadn’t asked but she seemed like she enjoyed answering his non-existent questions, and she was doing her PhD in physics. Levi had figured she was smart, but clearly, she was above the average. She was also clumsy—she tripled two times already while getting off the bus, thankfully he was there to save her ass—and kind. Too kind even. Even the fact that she was talking and for some reason trying to befriend him out of all people was evident enough.

To say that he wasn’t, at least even the tiniest bit, looking forward to these short encounters would be a lie. But each morning when he opened his eyes and realized that getting up from bed didn’t feel like labour and he was rushing his breakfast so as to not miss the bus and walked faster to the bus stop so that he would have a few more minutes for a cigarette and perhaps a couple of words he told himself that it wasn’t because of her.

But he had never been good at lying.

“What’s wrong?” Hanji asked after a couple of silent minutes since he sat down next to her.

They were on their way home and the bus was more or less empty. He had a terrible, hideous headache, one that stung as if someone was digging his temples with a pair of screwdrivers. Levi didn’t feel like talking but he also didn’t want to reflect his sour mood on her. She had nothing to do with it anyway.

He could feel her curious gaze and can already imagine the expression on her face without even having a look. Rounded, expectant eyes, raised eyebrows, slightly slipped glasses and sunset on messy hair. And a brief, quick glance in her direction was enough for him to confirm the image in his mind. “Nothing,” he replied tersely.

A lie.

Hanji hummed like she didn’t believe him. She hadn’t, of course. And it didn’t take her long to move her interrogation even further. “Did you have a bad day at work?”

“I always have a bad day at work.”

“Come on. No way it’s that bad.”

“It is that bad.”

“What exactly makes you so irritated about it?”

“Everything, simply.”

“Then why don’t you just quit it?”

Levi paused, carrying his eyes slowly at her. There it was again. That easy smile. The one that was soft and subtle, the one that twinkled her eyes and touched somewhere within his heart. Somewhere far away, deserted, and empty. He didn’t like to accept it, but it moved something in his soul too. Like a leaf which had long forgotten the touch of the wind and lay motionless on lifeless, immobile sand and now meeting the gentle touch of a breeze. “I can’t,” he managed to say.

“Why?”

“Because I need money.”

“You’ll find another job.”

“There is no guarantee it won’t be as shitty as this one, maybe even worse.”

This time it was Hanji who hesitated for a second before responding, “Why don’t you like your current job?” she asked, and she was curious about the answer as it was clear from the ever-present glint in her eyes. Levi wondered, maybe for the thousandth time, about why she cared and why she seemed so genuinely interested in everything he had to say. And he wondered, quite unreasonably yet inevitably if it meant something, anything at all.

“Because my boss is the very definition of an asshole.”

“Oh?” Hanji said, voice hoarse, clearly amused. “Is that the reason why you seem so riled up?”

Levi grunted instead of giving a verbal, clearer answer. Even remembering the look on that sorry excuse of a man’s smug face while he said there was nothing he could do for an increase in salary which Levi very much deserved was enough to make his headache grow even stronger. He closed his eyes, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right,” Hanji responded, “Sorry.”

He didn’t want her to feel sorry, he realized. It caused a twisted, uneasy feeling in his stomach. So, he decided to change the subject. “My head is killing me.”

As expected, she easily accommodated. “Would you like some painkillers?”

He shook his head, “I already took some.”

“I see,” Hanji said and for a while, the only thing he heard was the howl of the engine, the chatter of the other passengers, the robotic voice of the lady announcing the name of the bus stops they were getting nearer to and the hammer like pulsing inside his head. There shouldn’t be much to their bus stop but there was still some traffic as understood from the regular stop-and-go of the bus. So probably it was going to take more or less 20-25 minutes for them to arrive and 30 for him to take a nice, hot shower, change into fresh evening clothes and put his head on his soft, beloved pillow.

“You know, legend says,” Hanji started because that was the longest time interval in which she could stay silent. It was unnaturally long even. She must’ve been enjoying the view outside. He figured she liked sunsets. Somehow, it suited her. “That Pythagoras’s student Hippasus of Metapontum said to have discovered the irrational number √2 was punished as an act of divine retribution.”

Levi had gotten used to Hanji giving him strange and most possibly unnecessary and at times admittedly intriguing information which she seemed to be overly excited and passionate about. And he listened mostly because there was nothing better for him to do other than watching exhausted passengers and disgusting teenagers displaying public affection in the middle of the bus. But also, because there was something almost addicting in her frantic hand gestures, wide, brilliant eyes and that bright smile that made it hard for him to shut her up.

But now, he found himself staring at her, stunned, “For real?”

“For real,” Hanji confirmed, nodding her head along for emphasis.

“Damn,” Levi said, forgetting his headache for a moment. “What’s with √2?

“It’s an irrational number but rational numbers were something almost deemed holy by the Pythagoreans, and they had absolute dominance, or so they thought,” Hanji explained, pushing her glasses up her nose. “√2 turned their whole world upside down because it was unexplainable, it had no end. It doesn’t have an exact numerical value. There is literally not enough paper in the entire universe to write it down completely. It was a shocking revelation, especially to Pythagoras himself. Some say Hippasus was drowned because the gods punished him, and some say it was Pythagoras who killed him.”*

Hanji’s eyes were focused on the glass doors of the bus while she was speaking but then she directed her eyes towards him only to see the surprised look on his face. She laughed, “You look so shocked.”

Levi scoffed, “I thought the Greeks were supposed to be wise.”

“They are wise.”

“I am pretty convinced otherwise.”

“People react in unexpected ways when their whole world is upside down,” Hanji told him, head tilted sideways just slightly. The setting sun disappeared behind a building for a brief moment before reappearing again, illuminating the side of her face. “Don’t you think?”

And Levi thought and thought and pondered about it even after going home, as he took a nice, hot shower; ate dinner and later that night while watching the ceiling, hoping for the shadows to form coherent sentences and give him an answer. He thought if he understood what she meant if he had that kind of a moment when his whole world was upside down and he didn’t know what to do, how to react, how to live from then on. He wondered what he would do if he were to come up against something as such. Something that turned his whole world upside down, something that would make him do stupid things, irrelevant, unexpected things that would maybe make him feel human again.

And he wondered if that something might also be someone as well.

Erwin had learned about Nile and Marry’s engagement from an Instagram post. A photo of a happy and grinning Marry who was showing the diamond ring on her finger and Nile who was still kneeling in front of her, holding the little, red open box of the engagement ring and smiling up at her fiancé.

Levi eyed Erwin, who was holding a cigarette, his third, between his lips and observing the photo with narrowed eyes as he inhaled the smoke deeply, then released it slowly. Shaking off the ash of the cigarette with his index finger, he sighed. “I need a drink.”

As it turned out, what he needed wasn’t just a drink.

“Slow down,” Levi warned him as the blond man lowered his fourth glass of whisky on the black, marble surface of the bar they were currently in.

Erwin gestured for the bartender to fill his glass once more, ignoring his remark. Levi sighed. It was Saturday, hence there was no work tomorrow. Mike hadn’t come with them, saying that he was too sleepy to choose a night out over his beloved bed. Levi knew better though. He just hadn’t wanted to deal with a drunk-ass Erwin. Sneaky asshole.

The sound of the lighter snatched him out of his thoughts. Levi watched Erwin as he lighted up his cigarette. He had lost count of how much he had smoked today. Erwin usually wasn’t that much into it but since he seemed like he needed the quite temporary relief it provided Levi didn’t make any comment on his unusual desire towards it. He placed one between his lips instead. Then securing it between his two fingers, he leaned over a little for Erwin to light it up. Flicking the lighter, Erwin held it near the end of his cigarette. Levi drew in a deep breath, heard the faint crackle at the bottom and felt the way the fume filling inside his chest. He had decided not to drink tonight. At least not much.

Lost in thought, Levi shook off the ashes with his thumb. He guessed the reason behind Erwin’s current, sombre state, but wasn’t sure whether to make a comment on it or not. His relationship with Marie was something Levi only had heard of, and Erwin had never given him much detail. He observed the blond man’s side profile, the thoughtful stare he had fixed on his half-full glass, the cigarette dangling between his fingers, forgotten.

After giving it some thought, he decided to ask. “You still love her?”

Erwin didn’t seem to be taken aback by his quite straightforward question. Calmly, he placed the cigarette between his lips to take another deep drag. And when he spoke again after he blew out the smoke, there was no hesitation in his voice, “No.”

Levi felt relieved, for some reason. He never knew what to say when it came to anything romantic-related. He had no such experience except for a couple of hookups over the years which never went beyond one night—whether it was good or bad—and he had never gotten emotionally, and romantically for that matter, attached to anyone for his whole life.

But now, just as these thoughts crossed his mind a certain brunette accompanied them. And Levi let himself, for a brief millisecond, to ponder about her kind, brown eyes, warm, genuine smile and soothing voice. Her curious mind, her cleverness, clumsiness and foolishness. Like newly brewed tea spilling all over the surface of a table, he felt something warm spreading all over his body.

Then shaking his head, he shooed her image out of his mind. Frowning and scolding himself inside he reached for his glass of whisky and gulped down the last remnants in it. Then carrying his focus back to the actual subject of the conversation, he asked, “What’s the problem then?”

Erwin finished his own glass, but his eyes didn’t leave the little pieces of melted ice inside it, and they moved as he circled the glass with his hand. “I feel stuck.”

“What do you mean?”

His friend eventually looked at him. “I don’t think I’m living the life I want to live.”

Levi scoffed, taking a drag from his cigarette, and let the white fume leave his mouth lazily, “Can’t believe an Instagram post got you into an existential crisis.”

Erwin laughed, pressing the butt of his cigarette on the ashtray. Taking one last drag Levi followed him. “I’ve been thinking about it for some time,” Erwin went on, his words melding, already tipsy. “Maybe I’m just being greedy.”

“You are a greedy bastard for sure.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I was greedy enough.”

“Don’t think too much about it,” said Levi, pushing his empty glass away from him. He wasn’t a good adviser. Though he felt like he understood what Erwin meant, deep down. No one ever lived the life they wanted to live. It was in humans’ nature to ask for more. “It’s the way of the world.”

Erwin snorted; he had already knocked another one over. Cheeks and ears red, he lit up one more cigarette. “You should’ve been a therapist.”

Reaching out Levi snatched the thing out of his hand to put it out in the ashtray. “Hey!” Erwin protested, making a move to stop him. Levi slapped his hand and got on his feet, pulling his friend along with him by holding his arm. He dropped Erwin’s coat on his shoulders, left a couple of banknotes on top of the counter and pushed the whining man towards the exit. Enough drama for today.

Outside, the streets were luminous and fulgurant. Trees bare of leaves had been adorned with superficial yet colourful little lights. The air was chilly, autumn cold causing goosebumps on his skin through his thick clothing. While they were waiting for a taxi, with Erwin practically stooping over him with his arm around Levi’s shoulders, and Levi gritting his teeth tight enough to break a stone and trying to hold his feet glued to the ground so that he didn’t stumble toward the road with near-to-drunk Erwin—he saw her.

It wasn’t much of a coincidence. The bar was about fifteen minutes away from his house by car and during one of their earlier conversations he had learned that she lived nearby. Across the road at one of the cafes lined throughout the street, she was sitting on one of the tables outside. With two men and a raven black-haired woman. One of the men had dark blond hair and a beard of the same colour. He wore glasses—silly looking if you’d asked Levi—and had an arm around Hanji.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. He barely even knew her; they couldn’t even be considered friends. Yet as he watched the way she laughed at something the man just said, and the wind carried the sound till it reached his ears he felt a fire coming alive inside his stomach. Bright and vicious. Flames ascended, up to his throat. He then found himself scolding, chiding himself. It shouldn’t have bothered him. Then why was he feeling like this?

Another burst of laughter rose from the table they were sitting on. This time because of something she had said. Levi watched her, slightly bewildered, realising now that she is among her friends, the people she was familiar with, she shone even brighter. Just like the lights wrapped around the naked branches of the autumn trees. Colourful and radiant.

Hanji looked up, just then, as if she had sensed the way he watched her, like he was hypnotised, captured by some kind of wonder he hadn’t realized was just before his eyes all this time. And he saw the moment her expression changed from surprise to recognition. The corners of her mouth moved upwards then she raised a hand most probably to salute him.

And Levi did the thing he was the most masterful at. He looked away, choosing to ignore, and forget that he even saw her at all.

“Levi,” Erwin murmured, his cheek pressed on top of his head. Levi had found out, much to his discontent, that Erwin was unusually chummy when he was drunk. “You’re a good friend.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” Levi said, rolling his eyes. He was giving an intense battle not to carry his stare back to where she was. But he was afraid to face the possible disappointment on her face.

“I know you care about me.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You love me more than you love Mike, don’t you?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I hate that bastard.”

Erwin snorted and then started to laugh uncontrollably. Levi sighed. He was going to kill the said bastard first thing on Monday. He was sure of it.

Much to his relief the taxi finally came to a stop in front of them. Levi helped Erwin get onto the back seat, with much struggle. After he somehow managed to settle him for good, he got ready to get in himself. Yet just before that, he risked another glance at the table across the road only to find her already staring at him. It lasted for a split second, for this time it was her who moved her eyes which were sombre and thoughtful in a way that made him uneasy, away from him.

Sunday passed by in a state of ennui. After he safely dropped Erwin at his place last night he got back home, drained and vexed for reasons he couldn’t find in himself to unveil and ultimately—inevitably—face. He woke up when the sun was high up in the sky, the birds had long stopped chirping and the crows had taken over with their high-pitched croaking. It was quite natural, given the fact that he had spent the whole night lying on his bed, on his back watching the dark ceiling or on his side staring at the immobile curtain and listening to the tick-tocks of the clock on the hall.

He didn’t have much of anything to do. After a brief and insufficient breakfast, he talked to his mom on the phone, then vacuumed the house, cleaned the bathroom, read a book then dropped it halfway because he couldn’t focus. And he basically spent the rest of the day just going through Netflix to find something decent to watch and eventually opted for watching a ridiculous rom-com and eating popcorn without actually tasting or enjoying it. He then fell asleep on the couch, with only the company of the noises coming from the TV. Overly cheerful and superficial laughter in the background, opposing the one in his dream.

The first day of that week was another rainy day and given his current sombre and already uneasy mood, he was displeased with the weather even more than usual. Yet while walking closer and closer to the bus stop his heartbeats got inevitably faster and his nerves tenser. To be completely honest he had thought about taking a taxi rather than using the bus this time but being the grown, middle-aged, goddamn adult that he was whose teenage years had been long lost and forgotten, he had chosen not to.

But when he spotted Hanji waiting under the shelter of the bus stop, wearing that ugly, lilac raincoat with her hands inside of her pockets and absently playing around with a little rock on the pavement, rolling it with the nose of her shoe and her face, like the sky over their heads, dreary and pensive, hiding the sun behind dark clouds Levi thought, briefly, if he had made the right choice.

A bus came to a stop in front of the bus stop and the few other passengers got in as Levi paused, steps away from where Hanji stood, holding his umbrella over his head and watched her as she watched the bus and the people getting in one by one, thoughtfully. Soon after the bus left, she blinked, her mouth hanging open, and eyes growing wide as she realized a little too late that it was her bus, their bus and both of them had missed it.

“Shit,” she cursed, taking a few, redundant steps forwards and exposing herself to the rain and looking after the bus she had just missed with forlorn and remorseful eyes. It wasn’t raining heavily but still, her hair was getting wetter slowly as well as her glasses and her face when she laid her head backwards.

And Levi didn’t know why he stood there rather than walking closer to her as he usually did. But he didn’t move and couldn’t speak. He didn’t know why his heart was beating so loudly and why his head felt like he had been caught in a tornado, spinning unreasonably. And he thought about irrational numbers, Hippasus of Metapontum and divine retribution. He thought about how he hated the rain, loathed the way it wetted the cuffs of his trousers and now he witnessed how she absorbed it, eyes closed, surrendered and even though she had just missed the bus and would have to wait for maybe another thirty minutes. And while the rain washed over her face recklessly, she smiled like she didn’t care.

Levi let the umbrella down, slowly. Raindrops caressed his face, wetted his hair, and the wind ruffled his hair. Maybe it was the way of nature loving somebody. Loving so tenderly because she loved it just as kindly.

“People react in unexpected ways when their whole world is upside down, don’t you think?”

“Hey,” he greeted her, his face wet and hair sticking to his forehead. His umbrella was folded and secure inside his palm and his heartbeats calm because he knew why he did what he did.

Hanji’s eyes were shaped like two surprised circles when she saw him standing next to her. She had taken her glasses off for they had no function whatsoever anymore. “Hey,” she smiled but Levi realized it was a forced smile. “Looks like we both missed the car, huh?”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

An uncomfortable yet inevitable silence settled between them during which his mind was filled with a vicious rumble as he thought about the other night. Levi wanted to apologize for ignoring her and to tell her that it had nothing to do with her. It was just him and his inability to make friends or maybe his cowardness to admit to himself that he didn’t want her just as a friend. And he wanted to ask about that man too, the one who had an arm around her shoulders and to learn what he was to Hanji.

Silenced stretched for so long that in the end Hanji cleared her throat, “Maybe we should take a taxi—”

“You said,” he cut off her sentence. That was a thing they would take care of later just like how they were still standing under the rain while the bus stop was merely centimetres away from them and plus, he had an umbrella in his hand. But they were topics to be discussed later. “You said people react in unexpected ways.”

Levi stared at her, his lips pressed, eyes narrowed –because of the rain—and hair wet. He was so obviously, so stupidly tense. And he waited for the gears in her head to settle for good and as he followed from the look in her eyes –confused and hesitating—it took a while. But then she nodded, “Yeah?”

“That’s why—” he looked away; he felt the tips of his ears burning. “You know. I didn’t want to ignore you. I just didn’t know what to do.”

A brief pause. Then she said, “Oh!”

Levi glared at her, blinking. “What?”

“You’re saying—” she made a stupid hang gesture while she was trying to organize her thoughts. “So, you’re apologizing?”

“I guess?”

“Oh!” she said again and abruptly started laughing. Levi watched her, bewildered. “I thought I offended you!”

He blinked. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you were with your friend. I thought—I don’t know.” Hanji sighed, seemingly relieved while Levi stood there, dumbfounded, realizing that he had misunderstood the whole thing. “And I was with my college friends. I thought that you didn’t want to get in all the trouble of meeting everyone there and I understand! Totally.”

“Well,” he said, his mind felt numb. “I don’t really like meeting other people.”

Hanji laughed, nodding. It felt genuine and all of a sudden, his chest felt warm. “I figured.”

The rain had ceased. The sun peaked from between the dark clouds, and its rays fell on Hanji’s wet hair, highlighting the chestnut strands and stars twinkled inside her eyes. His heart throbbed inside his chest like a ping-pong ball. Levi realized then that he never knew what its real function was. Other than pumping blood to his body. But it wasn’t only there to keep him alive, it was also there to make him feel alive. And that’s what he lacked throughout his life.

“Would you like to have some coffee after work?”

His sudden and unexpected question quite understandably startled her but she recovered easily. Her smile widened. Levi suspected it had something to do with the blush he felt spreading on his cheeks. She might not know it but asking that question had taken at least ten years from his life span.

“I’d like that,” Hanji replied, her voice was soft, velvet-like. And Levi felt something strange in his stomach. Like a bunch of sparrows flipping their wings. It was an odd feeling, but it was nice. “But first let’s get a taxi, shall we?”

A few weeks passed. The “coffee dates” –Hanji had named them so—had become a routine though it happened at most one or two times a week. Their schedules didn’t always match with each other and sometimes Levi had to leave work later than he normally did and there were times Hanji would be so sleepy she had barely kept her head up on the way home. But in spite of himself, Levi was looking forward to having some free time so that he could listen to Hanji talking briskly almost nonstop about her research or something she learned from the book she was currently reading or had just finished. It was strangely soothing. During those moments she would be surrounded by a bizarre, almost otherworldly aura as if she was the first mortal to have tasted ambrosia and had gotten drunk with merely a dribble of it.

Even more strange was her listening to him with nearly the same caution with both her palms supporting her cheeks, elbows on top of the table and lips curled with a gentle, sweet smile while behind her glasses the reflection of yellow, dim café lights danced inside her eyes. Levi wasn’t a talker. He didn’t like giving unnecessary information and didn’t enjoy receiving it too for that matter. Yet with Hanji he found himself talking maybe just a little bit too much.

“You know when you talk like that,” Hanji had said to him one day after they left the café and were walking quietly home. The weather was refreshing though a little chilly. The streets were more or less empty, and on the dark, starless sky the moon was almost full. Hanji was wearing a green coat and flat-footed, brown boots under her high-waisted trousers. Her cheeks were the colour of pink, spring flowers and her lips a pretty shade of red. “I feel like I was given a key to a room full of wonders.”

This is what people mean when they say they are falling, Levi had thought staring at her face, brilliant with superficial city lights, burning with a fire innate in her. Falling so hard yet so slow. It feels like it will never end.

i’m thinking about going for a walk, wanna join?

Levi stared at the text on his phone screen and then at the pile of work he had to take care of today. There was a high chance he wouldn’t be able to leave at his usual hour. Disappointed and overly irritated he took his phone to write a reply.

go ahead. it’ll take me a while to leave

He left the phone and then turned back to his computer. Everyone had started to pack up. The office was filled with the ruckus of the end of the day. Soon they would all go, and everything would settle back to silence again.

His phone vibrated with a new text message.

He couldn’t help the corners of his mouth stir upwards and he hid it behind his teacup, taking a long sip. Just when he put the cup back in its place, she sent another message.

how long will it take?

Levi glanced at the clock on the right corner of his computer screen. 5.38 pm.

He typed a reply: two hours at least

Hanji replied quickly with a crying emoji which again made him hide his expanding smile behind his teacup. Then she sent another text saying, lmk if you leave early

If only Levi thought grimly then typed a short ok and turned back to his work.

Almost two and a half hours later he stepped out into a pleasant, autumn evening. It was somewhat chilly, but it felt good after being stuck inside the office for so long. He decided to light up a cigarette while walking towards the bus stop.

He had taken at most two drags when he spotted someone sitting at the bench of the bus stop and one more until he realized that it was Hanji.

He was so shocked that he almost forgot to let the smoke out after taking it in. Part of the fume went out of his nostrils and the cigarette dangled between his fingers. “Hanji?”

She had been strolling down on her phone. She was surprised too at first when she heard him calling out to her. Yet she quickly recovered and jumped off to her feet, grinning widely. “Hey, Levi!”

Levi was still too stunned to speak. It took him a while to ask, “What are doing here?”

Hanji shrugged, putting her hands inside the pockets of her denim jacket. She was wearing a thick hoodie underneath it, but Levi doubted it provided enough warmth for her to wait outside in this weather. “I was waiting for you.”

Her cheekbones as well as the tip of her nose were almost red, so it wasn’t that hard to guess but he had to ask, “For how long?”

“Umm,” she glanced at her watch briefly. “Almost an hour, I guess.”

“An hour!” Levi yelled, unable to hide his shock. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Well, not really—”

“You want to get sick that bad?”

“I mean, it’s not that cold—”

“Tch,” he grunted. He put out his half-smoked cigarette in a nearby trash bin and then threw it inside. “It’s autumn idiot, of course, it is that cold.”

“You know,” Hanji said, and Levi sensed her walking closer to him. He glanced sideways to see her smiling, her eyes wrinkling at the sides. “You have a weird way of caring about people.”

He looked away, feeling the rising heat on the tip of his ears and that weird feeling in his stomach coming alive again. Little birds chirping, doing a wild dance inside. Then he started to walk, and Hanji joined, falling into steps with him silently. As much as he enjoyed listening to her rambling on and on, he also liked to be just quiet with her. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It reminded him of the quietness of winter and snow. Calm and peaceful.

“Say, Levi,” Hanji started, following the few minutes of their silent walk. Levi looked at her curiously, searching her face to guess what she had to say. “What do you think would happen if the sun never existed?”

Levi bent his head backwards to look at the sky. It was dark and had a lack of stars tonight. Only a few of them sparkled here and there. “How the hell would I know?”

“It’s a hypothetical question,” Hanji explained as if talking to a five-year-old.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Levi murmured, sighing and staring back at the road ahead of them. What if the sun never existed, huh? “It would be cold.”

Hanji chuckled, “Duh,” she grinned when Levi glared at her. “What else?”

He grumbled, overly annoyed but he figured he couldn’t say no to her. “It would be dark.”

“Hmm…”

“Lifeless.”

“Obviously.”

“It would…” he trailed off, glancing at Hanji to find her watching him with amused eyes and an equally amused smile on her lips. He thought about his life before he met her and how boring and stagnant everything was. There was no difference between day and night, sleeping and being awake, going out or staying inside, living or not living. Everything felt the same and nothing made him feel anything. There was no colour around him, no light, no warmth. Suddenly he felt like he had been talking about himself.

At last, to sum it all he said, “Apocalypse.”

She laughed boisterously. “Most probably, yeah.” Then she went on, “What if a universe without the earth?”

“Peaceful,” he said darkly.

“And what if there were no stars?”

He looked up again, feeling mournful all of a sudden. “Dull.”

They were going through a walking trail. The number of people around was little and the lampposts on the side of the road along with the trees created a soft, tranquil atmosphere. There was seemingly no end to Hanji’s hypothetical questions, but Levi realized he enjoyed answering them though his answers were barely sufficient and absolute nonsense. But Hanji didn’t seem to care if her bubbling laughter and the wide grin on her face were any evidence. He thought he liked the sound of her laughter especially when she laughed at something he said. It made him feel warm as if the sun had decided to move inside his ribcage.

“What do you think would happen if we had never met?”

Levi hesitated before answering, “I’d rather not think about that.”

“Why not?” Hanji asked curiously, her eyes wide, trying to find an answer in his eyes. Levi observed her features, trying to decide whether or not he should say that if they’d never met, he would go on his life like an earth that had never met the sun.

“Because I’m glad we did,” he told her instead. “I really am.”

Hanji exhaled, creating a white, puff of smoke. The light of the moon was filtering through the branches of the trees and the lampposts weren’t quite luminous enough but even so he could see the moment the expression in her eyes changed to something more sentimental, solid. It was so tangible that Levi felt like he could catch them with his hands and hold them inside his fists like something so precious, so rare. Like pearls hidden in the depths of the oceans.

“Levi,” she breathed then, her voice reflecting the emotions her eyes carried. “Not hypothetically. What do you think would happen if I were to kiss you now?”

He didn’t notice he had been holding his breath until he exhaled with a long, shivering sigh. He wasn’t even aware that they had stopped walking until he realized he couldn’t move his legs. His heart was beating so fast he barely heard his own breaths. All around them trees danced, leaves whispered secret lyrics to the wind and Hanji was looking at him, waiting for him to do something or maybe just to say something.

It took him seconds which felt like an eternity until finally his mind started functioning again. “Only one way to find out,” he whispered, hoping his voice wasn’t lost to the wind.

Her chest moved with a sigh of relief. “Right,” she whispered too, her lips curving with a pretty smile. Then she walked close enough to him to grab his shoulders and bring her face near to his. His fingers twitched on his sides, and he couldn’t look away from her lips. “Brace yourself,” she said, her breath warm on his mouth and his cheeks.

Levi only had the time to let out a soft chuckle before Hanji closed the little distance between them to finally, finally, press her lips tightly to his.

Her lips were soft, hot, and tasted like the raspberry-flavoured candy she carried in her bag all the time. It was dizzying. And as if a match falling on a puddle of gasoline, a hunger came to life inside him. Sudden and unexpected. It moved fast, travelling through his veins to the tips of his fingers, setting his skin on fire. He couldn’t control his body, couldn’t stop his arms from wrapping around her waist to pull her against him closer and closer until he felt the warmth of her body and the fast rise and fall of her chest. He followed the movements of her lips and chased after her when she parted from him long enough to breathe.

Seconds or minutes after when they pulled apart, panting, he watched her smile, addictively. “Go out with me,” she said, out of breath.

Levi had to reluctantly pull apart to look her in the eyes to see if she was serious. He blinked, “Huh?”

“Be my boyfriend,” she smirked, one of her hands was holding his nape and her thumb moved up and down on his skin. It distracted him.

Levi thought he understood now what it meant for your whole world to be upside down. He felt as if he had the sky underneath his feet, vast and boundless. But infinity didn’t scare him. Falling didn’t seem like the worst option when the clouds seem like a safe place to land.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Hanji grinned, her face illuminating with a different kind of light. Happiness, he thought. It was easy to recognize when he himself felt the same, so profoundly that he was sure it was going to keep him awake all night.

“This was easier than I thought,” Hanji said as she took one step back and he grudgingly let go of her. But then she reached out to grab his hand, tightly.

Levi stared down at their intertwined hands then up at her with inquiring eyes. “What do you mean?”

They started to walk again. “I’ve been planning this since the moment I saw you,” Hanji explained, laughing when she saw the stunned look on his face. “Don’t be so surprised. You’re quite attractive for a man your height.”

His shock quickly switched with annoyance as he glared at her harshly and tried to free his hand from hers. But tightening her hand around his, Hanji didn’t let him, “Just joking,” she said, chuckling.

“You have a shitty sense of humour.”

“But I still got you, didn’t I?”

“Don’t be so sure of yourself,” Levi said, blankly. “I can change my mind any moment.”

“Sorry,” Hanji smiled, victoriously, “Too late now.”

“Tch,” he grunted, suppressing the smile threatening to take over his lips and turning his head to the other side to hide the redness he felt in his ears. “Lame.”

Hanji gasped, “How dare you!”

He held her hand tighter and thought about the nights he took this road to walk home with a lonely soul and an exhausted heart, with the mere company of his own shadow stretching before him. Then he looked ahead at their shadows on the pavement, two silhouettes hand in hand. And this time he couldn’t stop his lips to curl upwards to shape a little, soft smile.

He could get used to this.

#levihan #levihanfic

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kellanved-ammanas · 2 years ago

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Demoman Ships & Pals - Medic: Memory Related

[A/N] Scout's here too but I wanted them both not to remember because the idea is that they got blackout drunk together. So someone needed to fill them in and Scout seemed like a funny option because of his motivation to wake them and tell them to go fix it.

“Hey morons, wake the fuck up. You got a mess to clean up.”

Medic groaned and pressed himself further into the warmth at his side. There was nothing in the world he wanted to do less than wake up right now.

That warmth proved to be Demo as he mirrored Medic’s groan. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it.” His words were barely decipherable through his accent and tired mumbling.

“I doubt that,” Scout replied, being his usual obnoxious self and not leaving. “And you’re the one that got Medic drunk so it’s partly your fault too no matter what. Meaning you get to help clean it up. So get the fuck up already.” He prodded Medic in the back with what could only be the toe his shoe.

With a snarl, Medic shot up to glare at him. The intimidation factor of which was no doubt harmed by the fact that he and Demo had apparently fallen asleep cuddling on the floor of the medical laboratory next to the operating table. Finding his glasses on the floor beside him, Medic gave them a quick wipe down so he could get a good look around.

A not insubstantial amount of dried blood covered the floor and parts of the wall. Likely more was on the operating table itself judging based off the way it had obviously run down the legs of it. Naturally some of it had ended up on Medic, staining his once white lab coat and sticking to his bare hands and arms. It covered Demo too. All odd enough on its own but there were also various organs littered around the place, all of which looked to have been dried out for some time, making their source quite mysterious.

“What the hell happened here?” Demo asked, voicing Medic’s own question as he sat up too.

“You mean you don’t even remember?” Scout said, spreading his arms in a ‘what the fuck?’ gesture.

Careful of his pounding head and the dizziness it brought, Medic stood and extended an arm to help Demo stand too. There was indeed more mess on the table. But also, on the counter were various beakers and flasks, some of which were partially filled with mysterious chemicals. A quick step over to the fridge revealed the source of the blood; Medic’s entire stockpile of the stuff was missing. Where had the organs come from though? He didn’t keep that many random human organs on hand, especially in such poor condition.

“We were quite drunk,” he said as he looked back over at Scout. “So just tell us what happened?”

“You guys raided the Tuefort graveyard, stole all the bodies, brought them back here and then somehow made a zombie army out of them that’s now terrorizing Tuefort. And some of them spit explosive goop so I know you’re not innocent.” He pointed at Demo. “So you guys gotta get this shit cleaned up before Miss Pauling finds out and gets mad at all of us again even though you’re the only ones at fault for almost causing an apocalypse again.”

Medic exchanged a look with Demo that ended in them both chuckling. Even when black out drunk Medic was one of the single most powerful people on Earth, he was basically a god. How’d they’d done it was a mystery but that only made it all the more impressive.

“Yeah, ha ha, really funny guys. I’m over here trying to be good for once to impress Miss Pauling and all you chucklenuts keep doing stuff that pisses her off because she has to clean up after you all the time. That makes it really hard to talk to her because she’s always too busy dealing with everyone else’s messes to talk to me. And, yeah, that includes my messes too sometimes but I’m really trying to do better here but you guys keep making it hard. Oh and also, I guess like a zombie apocalypse would be bad or whatever. So you dumbasses gotta fix it.”

“Calm down, laddie,” Demo said, still chuckling a little. “We’ll fix it, don’t worry.” Knowing him, that would likely involve explosives. Which was for sure the most surefire way to fix it.

“We must be sure to capture at least one,” Medic said. “Preferably more. I need to study them.” So he could figure out how he’d done it as well as how Demo had gotten some of them to spit explosive substances without exploding themselves.

“Yeah, yeah. First, let’s get some coffee and toast though, eh?”

As eager as Medic was to get to work they did indeed need to to do something about their hangovers first. So before Scout could try to make any kind of impatient protest, he followed Demo out. Today was going to be a long day but hopefully it would ultimately be a productive one too.

#my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #demoman #medic #medic/demo

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paodequeijofeliz-blog · 5 years ago

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Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: there is just a little bit of smut talking in the end. A little. Barely.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Let me tell you a good story - Part 7 (Finale)

March 2nd, 2048

“Okay, okay. Shoo everyone. So. Where was I?” Anna scratched her eyes again. “Right, at the gala. After breakfast, Kamilah asked me to stay at the Penthouse, cause’ it would be easier to just get dressed there… Which lead to a day of not working so much, no details needed, of course. Until we finally showered and got ready to go.”

“Me in forty minutes. She…” Kamilah poked her wife’s head. “Took three hours.”

“Yeah, she still does that” Lysia sighed in confirmation, remembering how her mother took ages to get ready for the daughter’s graduation. “That’s why you’re getting dressed way before me, when the wedding comes.”

“I wanted to look pretty, ok? It’s not every day that a smoking hot rich brilliant woman ask you to be her date.” Anna defended herself, fighting a yawn. “The part you want to hear happened after we were already there…”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

September 16th, 2018

The gala was being held at one of those rich, huge, and fancy hotels, worldwide known, that Anna never really memorized the name.

“Baccarat Hotel, darling. In Manhattan.” Kamilah added, but her piece of information was dismissed by a “Whatever Rich Hotel, doesn’t make a difference” response from her wife.

The event was set to start at 8 pm, so it was already dark outside. The city lights and camera flashes glowed on Annie’s dress when she stepped out of the limousine. That outfit was carefully selected to match Kamilah’s. A dark shade of blue with tiny crystals, like the night sky, making the historian’s smooth skin look like a dangerous temptation. The back was barely covered, and even though it seemed to hug her tight on the breasts, it got looser as it approached the hem, floating and following the woman’s movement. It was beautiful, indeed, but nothing compared to her date.

Kamilah was so absolutely gorgeous, Anna couldn’t help staring at her through the entire ride there, and almost lost her breath when she saw that wonderful goddess looking over the shoulders and smiling invitingly. It was the most beautiful vision in the world.

“Darling, what a coincidence, I was thinking the same thing when I saw you that night” the Egyptian laughed, a hint of red flashing through her eyes, “And you’re still the most beautiful vision in the world, with or without a Versace’s dress on you.”

“I do remember you saying ‘without’ was even better in the end of the night…” Anna looked up to meet Kamilah’s gaze, almost loosing track of the story. “So…”

Kamilah’s gown was a silver provocative mermaid cut with a deep neckline and a set of elegant sapphire jewels. They were the night and the stars, and what the Egyptian didn’t know by them, is that one day, years ahead, Annie would hold her hands on the altar an make vowels to ‘always support you, as the night sky supports the moon and the stars, for you are and always will be my entire galaxy’.

Back then, the only thing they were both aware was the intense feeling pulling them together through the event. For the first couple hours, their sole attention was focused on each other. Both danced, drank and laughed like they were the only two people standing on that ballroom. And even though they didn’t kiss, trying hard to maintain the professional boundaries intact (at least in front of the rest of the employees), it was evident to everyone that something was going on. After the sixth waltz, Kamilah felt this urge to just lean in and kiss the woman she had on her arms, sinking in desire, but Adrian interrupted them right on time.

“Excuse me.” He touched Anna on her elbow, capturing the historian’s attention. “Maybe it’s time for you two to blend in. Why don’t we greet the volunteers who are going to be working in the basement with you next month, Ms. Mali? Kamilah needs to have a moment with the senator as well.”

“Of course, Mr. Raines.”

With a last sparkling smile, Annie left her date and followed Adrian’s lead to a group of people by the bar. They weren’t really interesting to talk to and the conversation flew in circles, getting so dull that soon enough she saw herself drinking more champagne than the recommended. At some point, the main topic became Ms. Sayeed. One of them, Mr. Paul Lynn, was excited to work for her.

“Hold your horses, pal. She can be such a pain in the ass.” Annie finally said something, an empty glass on her hands.

“Really? People said she’s a little bit tough, maybe demanding, but a nice person in general.” Paul landed his eyes beyond Annie’s shoulder, quickly composing himself, but the historian didn’t notice this subtle change of posture.

“Good evening. Am I interrupting?” Kamilah’s voice showed up right beside Anna, her gorgeous features monopolizing every single eye on that group.

“Not at all. We were just chatting about work, how’s the project, the documents, the boss…” Annie also didn’t see how Paul and the others got tense over her words, since she could only stare at the one in silver beside her. “They want to meet Ms. Sayeed soon… But as I was saying, don’t get your hopes up, Paul. Besides being annoying, she’s never around. Never. Definitely not checking on us down in the basement.”

“Uhm… Well, I’m sure Ms. Sayeed probably has too many things to do… Right?” said the tall blond woman named Leah, a new archivist there. Her eyes flickered between Anna and Kamilah, unsure what to think of it.

“I seriously doubt it.”

“Why do you think that?” the Egyptian crossed her arms, dropping an amused glare over Anna. That was getting interesting.

“Well, come on, if this is so important to her, why haven’t I met the woman yet? She doesn’t even sign my paycheck, Mr. Raines does it. I bet she’s somewhere fancy right now, having a hot bath and laughing at the poor souls that have to deal with her freakin’ thousand emails every day.” Anna sighed tiredly, too much champagne in her system. “As I said before, a real pain in the ass. When you think you made progress, there comes Ms. Sayeed with a new order. I swear, there are days my phone buzzes so much, seems like it’s trying to jump from my pocket and commit suicide. That’s her thing, you know? Boss around. Not even a polite ‘thank you for working overtime today’. So yeah, the project is great, Mr. Raines and Kamilah here are both amazing, but throw away any ideas of bonding with Ms. Sayeed.”

“Ms. Sayeed, they’re ready for your speech.” They were interrupted by an elegant man in tuxedo who offered his hand to walk the Egyptian to the stage.

At first, Annie frowned in confusion.

Then, her eyes met Kamilah’s and all the pieces finally connected correctly. The company, the situation, when and how they met, what she said that night, why Ms. Sayeed was never introduced to her…

“Holy shit, I’m fucking the real boss.”

“You’re WHAT?” Paul dropped his chin.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“OH. NO.” Drake also dropped his chin, just like Paul did so many years ago. “OH NO, OH NO, OH NO”

“I was mad at her!” Annie tried to defend herself, cheeks getting redder by the second. “All I knew was that Ms. Sayeed would only text me orders. Never said ‘hi’, or something nice. Because the one who was saying something nice, in my understanding, was a different person!”

Kamilah couldn’t comment on it, since she was bursting into laughs. No story could make her laugh so much like that one. Slowly, she started to steady her breath, a hand placed over her own chest. By the window, Adrian was also cleaning the tears out of his eyes.

“Come on, mommy…” Lysia smiled kindly at the blushed woman on the floor. “Don’t mind them. We all love you the way you are. Continue the story.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Anna had never wanted to burry herself on the ground that much in her entire life. She didn’t even hear the speech, the chock written all over the Brazilian’s face. Kamilah looked gorgeous under the spotlight, confident, professional. Surely was saying some pretty intelligent stuff too. Annie just couldn’t understand it, since she was momentarily deaf. Petrified. Half a glass of champagne still lingering between her fingers. At some point, the speech was over, but the historian only realized it when Adrian touched her back and whispered a request. She heard it, but apparently forgot every single word in English.

“Quê?”

“Dance with me, will you?” He asked again while gently leading her away from the group. Anna only realized what was happening by the time his hand held her waist and helped her to move around at the sound of a slow song. “Hey. Are you ok? Can you hear me?”

She nodded, not risking saying anything.

“Don’t beat yourself so much, Kamilah could’ve told you the truth long ago, but she was having too much fun with this little secret.”

“Huh.” That’s all her voice was able to project.

Adrian muffled a short laugh, bringing her closer and waltzing away from the others. In a couple minutes, they had escaped those curious eyes, approaching the corner of the ballroom, where he slowly diminished the steps to end the dance. “Now, I believe here you’re safe.”

Annie’s gaze wondered around, still lost in her thoughts. She only noticed Adrian had left when Kamilah’s voice echoed sensually by her ear, making the historian shiver and tense like a statue. Her eyes lifted to find brown ones intensely glaring at her.

“Good evening, Ms. Mali. My name is Kamilah Sayeed, and I’m the CEO of Ahmanet Financial. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who’s leading my most important project. It has come to my attention that you have a few issues towards me and my… Bossy manners. However, it could only be a mistake since last night you seemed really comfortable following my orders in the bedroom.”

Anna bit her lower lip, still quiet.

“Oh, no words? Not a single complaint? What a pity, I was so longing to meet the dazzling historian who managed to criticize my thesis with no mercy.” Kamilah’s fingernails went down Annie’s back smoothly, not leaving marks behind. “Why don’t you come with me to the suite upstairs so we can discuss how many ways am I able to be a real pain in your ass?”

Without even waiting to hear a response, she slapped the historian’s butt before heading to the service elevator with a shining room card sticking out of her neckline.

Anna followed. Hypnotized. No questions asked.

Never again she complained about being bossed around by Ms. Sayeed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aw, there’s a happy ending.” Drake’s arms were involving his fiancée’s waist, tightening. “So, maybe you were right, baby… They do have a much better love story.”

“Oh, but we’re not done, there is way more. A couple days after that, something terrible happened with Lily, so much changed, and I…” Annie scratcher her eyes for the third time.

That was it. Kamilah leaned down to take the woman in her arms. “It’s time to go to sleep, my love. We’ll tell them the rest on our next dinner, I promise.”

Anna didn’t even have the strength to resist. She was terribly tired, and her wife’s embrace was too damn comfortable. “Fiiiiiiine… Tomorrow night…”.

Adrian smiled fondly at them. With a silently nod and a good night kiss on Lysia’s forehead, he left to his own apartment. Drake and Lysia went to the guest room after cleaning up the table, while Kamilah slowly got up and took Annie into bed.

The historian mumbled something incomprehensible when was lay there.

“What, darling?” the vampire leaned down to hear it better, spooning Anna by instinct.

“I love you, Mrs. Sayeed.”

Kamilah smiled, turning her face to place a kiss on the girl’s temple.

“I love you too, Mrs. Sayeed.”

#kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #bb kamilah #choices kamilah #choices: bb #choices: stories you play #I'm so sorry if I wrote something wrongly I keep making a huge confusion #all the time I exchange then for them #somehow there was a part I exchanged glare for glass #and I am an English teacher #who the hell thought it was a good idea to let me teach???#call my boss and tell him I suck please

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sleptrn · 2 years ago

Text

Kalego Angst With a Hint Of Fluff ( Gender Neutral)

Fandom: Welcome To Demon School Iruma-Kun!

tw! - insults, swear words, self-degrading, mentions of blood, injuries

includes: a 'fight', blaming, guilt, anger, rage, Kalego actually caring for you #WOAH😱😱/hj, friendly banter, jokingly fighting in the end (verbally), Kalego being obliviously smitten, fluff

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"Fucking hell. You're so fucking stupid. What the hell is wrong with you?" Kalego grumbled as he pinched the space between his eyebrows.

He's visibly frustrated. No, frustrated is an understatement. He's absolutely enraged. So enraged to the point where you wouldn't be surprised if he killed you right here, right now.

But what exactly brought upon this? What exactly caused Kalego to be in such a furious state...?

You.

You did.

You're the cause of this.

And..

"It's all your fucking fault." He glares at you, with anger so strong that you flinch and look away, too scared to meet his gaze as it might be the end of you.

As he silently ponders for a few seconds about what to do next, thousands of thoughts start running through your head...

'He hates me now.... I fucked up... I shouldn't have messed around with his spell books.. if I didn't, the beast wouldn't have been released... Everything would've been fine...'

Indeed. Kalego isn't frustrated over something small and petty like a spilled coffee,

or you accidentally killing or dislocating his beloved cacti.

....Okay, maybe that isn't small or petty.

He's frustrated over the fact that you've just released a beast even Sullivan would have a hard time defeating.

Worst part about this is that, Sullivan is currently attending to foreign matters in a foreign realm along with all the great superiors of the Netherworld. Thus, it's up to the teachers of the school to take down this beast.

With absolutely no time to waste, Kalego glared at you one last time before storming out of the room, rushing towards where the beast was.

You were frozen on the floor, not knowing what to do. You felt helpless. This is all your fault, yet you can't do anything to help... Can you do anything to help?

No, you can't. You'd just get in Kalego's way.

'I really am nothing but a nuisance..'

You thought to yourself.

Despite your shock, you somehow picked yourself up and got on your feet. With trembling knees, you stumbled towards the window and gasped when you saw that the beast had already defeated 3 teachers and they were all laying on the battlefield, covered in blood.

You felt sick to your stomach, unsure if it was from the gorey sight or the sense of guilt taking over you.

You watched as Kalego arrived at the scene. He looked as stern as always, always standing his ground. But even from here, you could see that he had a hint of fear in his eyes. Well, he was in the presence of a beast who could probably wipe him and the whole school out within 20 minutes after all.

You stare anxiously as he exchanged blows with the beast, casting as many spells as he could with all his might. His comrades fought by his side, but they were all slowly knocked down, one by one. In the end, Kalego was the last man standing.

He took a deep breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He closed his eyes for a little while, as if he's praying or recalling a memory...

When he opened his eyes again, he turned towards your direction and looked right at you. He nodded at you slightly with a bittersweet smile.

His eyes were full of will and determination, but also sorrow.

Huh?

You felt your stomach swirl from fear.

Oh no.

Please. Please don't tell me he's planning to-

Before you could collect your thoughts, Kalego charged up a chant and started attacking the beast with all his might. He casted all sorts of spell, even attacked it physically a few times. They exchanged blows, each blow got increasingly brutal and painful.

You couldn't stand watching the fight helplessly through a glass window when Kalego was risking his life for the school, so you dashed out of the room into the hallways.

I have to get there. I have to do something. I have to be at least a little useful. Fuck. Kalego, please. Hold on a little longer.

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When you reached the battlefield, you scouted your surroundings.

Teachers covered in blood were littered on the floor, injured students were scattered by the grass.

The beast was still standing.

Kalego was not.

You stared at Kalego's trembling body in horror. You hurriedly ran towards him and cradled him in your arms.

"KALEGO!!" You screamed in terror as he slightly raised his excruciatingly heavy eyelids and coughed out some blood.

"*cough cough*" His eyes winced in pain as he felt his body ache all over.

"You... You need to get out of here..." He mutters.

He slowly raised his trembling hand and cupped one side of your face.

"Get somewhere safe. Before it's too late.. *cough cough*"

Your eyes water as you gently placed your hand over his that is cupping your face.

"Kalego..." You murmur in a soft, broken voice. You're not hurt, but seeing him like this has wounded you more than any wound ever did.

"Go. Now. Please. While you still can... Save yourself.." He softly says, looking at you with fear and concern.

...Why?

Why does he care for my safety?

Why does he care about me when I was the cause of this whole massacre in the first place?

Why?

Tears ran down your face as you quickly used a floatation spell on Kalego to set him aside to a safe place. You proceeded to cast a healing spell on him - your bloodline ability - and gently kissed his forehead, praying for the best.

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You stepped back onto the battlefield, heart filled with rage and anger.

You meet head to head with the beast, but you're not intimidated by it, no. In fact, it's the opposite.

"Im the one who released you, and I will be the one to put an end to you." You narrow your eyes threateningly.

And the fight begins.

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....Anddd the fight is over.

You've finally discarded the beast, but you're basically half-dead.

You have bruises and scratches all over your body, you have a fatal wound around your abdomen and you're losing a lot of blood. You start to slowly lose consciousness as you take small steps towards the area where you've set Kalego down at.

You kneel down next to him and examine his body.

Thank goodness, he's alright.

You breathe a sigh of relief, and gently run a hand over his cheek, causing him to gain consciousness.

But before you could greet him or say anything,

You collapsed.

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"Ugh..."

You flinched in your sleep as you felt a slight pain in your lower abdomen.

The pain got more intense by the second, and suddenly it felt like an electric shock, stinging you from within.

"ACK!" You screamed loudly as you shot up from your sleeping position.

Huh?

You were... In a hospital room. You were on a hospital bed...

You were basically mummified in bandages...

You took in your surroundings as you tried to recall all the events that happened, but that train of thought was broken off by the familiar sting of pain.

"OUCH!! WHAT THE FUCK?!" You snap your head to the side only to see a familiar face holding a cotton swab.

A face that is ever so familiar.

A face that pisses you off ,

but also a face you're so relieved to see.

Kalego...

"Pfft... Someone who took on a whole deadly beast is scared of a little hydrogen peroxide?" He raised an eyebrow and laughed mockingly.

You glare at him, clearly not having enough energy to deal with his shitty attitude. Especially not when you just woke up. Especially not when he's stabbing you with that hell of a cotton swab.

"Is this really how you treat someone who saved your sorry ass? Torment them with a stinging, torture device?"

"Well it's either you deal with this so-called 'stinging torture device' and stop whining.. or you can get an infection. Pick your poison, your highness."

You glared at him, only to get a cocky grin in return.

"Sigh... I don't have the energy to put up with your shit right now. Are you done? I want to get back to sleep." You say, laying back down and pulling up your blanket.

"Yeah, I'm done. If I continue treating you with the oh-so-deadly 'stinging torture device' you'd continue to whine and cry anyways. And as much as I'd enjoy that, other patients probably wouldn't."

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

"Wow, okay, Mr. Sadist...." you mocked.

"Anyways, since you're done, I'll get some rest." You dragged your blanket closer and motioned for him to get out.

You expected some sort of remark from him, but he just complied with your request and smiled slightly before walking out the door.

Weird, that's not quite like Kalego.

Maybe he hit his head a little too hard...

You chuckled to yourself before you drifted off to sleep.

---------------------------

A few hours had passed,

Kalego came into your hospital room once again and sat on the seat beside your bed. You were still sound asleep, exhausted from the fight.

Kalego silently admired how peaceful you looked while you were asleep and ran his fingers over your cheek gently.

He recalled everything you've done on the battlefield, and how concerned you were about his well-being.

The thought made his gaze soften slightly.

"You really are something..." He sighs quietly.

He continues admiring you, resting his head by your bedside.

Then, he hesitantly gets closer to you.

So close you could probably feel his warm breath on you...

He gently whispered into your ears...

"...Thank you."

Right after saying those words, his ears had a soft tint of pink.

He's probably embarrassed. Or maybe it's pink for a different reason...

I guess we'll never know...

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Kalego knows that you were the cause of this whole mess in the first place, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to hate you. You are constantly on his mind. Everytime he says something mean to you, he would be up at night wondering if he had gone too far or crossed any of your boundaries... He knows that despite the fact that you're an idiot to him, you're also special to him in some way.

He knows.

But what he DOESN'T know is that you were awake the whole time he said all that and did all those sweet gestures, also when he was mindlessly staring at you...

and you will never let him live it down.

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The end 🥂

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I'm not proofreading this until tomorrow it's literally almost 4am I NEED SLEEEPP

anyways I hope you guys enjoyed it!! It's not that angsty tbh so I apologize if You expected something more soul-crushing...

Follow for more content like this from me ✍️ requests are also open so feel free to send me some in my ask box!

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