#this is the third time a sky survey kicked me out

[cowinatrenchcoat]

Me: *diligently filling out the sky survey with thoughtful answers like they asked for*

Sky Survey: Hey, you're taking a while, I'm gonna close and not give you the chance to retake it.

Me: What?? I was mid sentence! I was actively typing!

Survey: Don't care. I'm also not giving you candles.

[robinewe]

Bottled Emotions

2k, setting: heroes and villains, rated G

A car down the road screamed to a halt, four men wearing masks jumping out and running into the nearest building. I looked around. The street was deserted except for me.

...Well, if that wasn’t suspicious activity, I didn’t know what was. And if the logo on the van was any indication, this could be the organization I’d been tracking for a while.

For lack of a better disguise I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head, shrouding my face with shadows. The sky was dark as well, thunderclouds blocking the sun and threatening to storm later today. For now, there was a brisk wind, but no rain.

I tapped a finger to the center of my forehead, drawing out a crackling yellow strand of electricity. As it left my head my shoulders relaxed, now that I didn’t have some silly emotion distracting me. A bag hanging off my shoulder made a clicking sound as I pulled it open to fish out a small glass vial labeled ‘fear.’ This covered a small range of emotions, from anxiety to apprehension to dread. I put the sparking string into the bottle, sealing it tight and putting it away.

Ruffling through the bag some more, I found a glowing red one. It wasn’t hard to find, as it illuminated the entire bag, mixing its harsh red light with softer glows of other vials. I uncapped it and carefully held it over my eyes, allowing some of it to slip into my consciousness.

This process in total took less than a minute. A red glow of confidence tinted my vision, giving me exactly what I needed to go and confront these suspicious characters.

I scanned the building for a point of entry that would give me some kind of advantage, and as luck would have it, there was a fire escape leading up to one of the second-story windows. I climbed that easily, and peered through the window, giving the situation a quick glance before sliding it open. There were three men standing under a sole light illuminating the warehouse, all seeming to be focused on something on a table that they blocked from my view.

Not one for subtlety, especially with the extra confidence, I jumped down onto a catwalk above their heads, landing in a crouch and making a loud clang. All three heads turned to look, drawing weapons as well.

“So, guys, what’s the evil scheme this time?” I called down to them before jumping off the catwalk to slide down one of the columns supporting it.

Considering this wasn’t a planned thing, it was weird that none of them looked surprised. “You that kid who’s been messing around with the locals?” One asked.

“I’d say I’m more of a teen, or a young adult maybe, but yes. That’d be me.” I circled around the three men, all of them watching me warily, and circling in turn while still guarding the object of their seeming fascination. They still hadn’t given me an opportunity to see what it was. “...And you’re next.”

Dispatching the criminals was a simple task. I sprang at the nearest one, the one who had spoken, and with a swift kick to the head he was down. I used the momentum to carry myself into the next guy, who’d been trying to sneak up behind me. Well, that wasn’t going to work.

I blocked his first attempted punch, grinning with the adrenaline, and grabbed his forearm to swing him up and over my head into a flip. He collided with the third man as well, knocking them both to the floor.

I laughed. “I hope that teaches you a lesson! I’ll take you down, and anyone else who messes with this city too!” But I think they’d all already been knocked unconscious before I’d finished speaking. Ah, well. I put my hands on my hips to survey the fallen opponents, then, satisfied, went to examine what they’d been after.

On a desk in the middle of the room was an unassuming black briefcase. I flicked it open immediately, and… In hindsight, that might have been where I went wrong.

I’d forgotten about the fourth man. I flew backwards as the case exploded, hitting a column.

“Perhaps we could teach you a lesson,” he said dramatically. “Mind your own business.”

“Yeah? How about no. Turn yourself in, or you’ll end up like your friends, here,” I said weakly, gesturing to the motionless bodies laying around. I was still reeling from the minor explosion, though as far as I could tell I wasn’t really seriously hurt. The confidence still running through me gave me a bit of a boost.

The man was about to respond when a tremor shook the building. He looked towards me as if somehow I could be causing it, while I looked around checking the windows and doors to find the source.

Then a wall of flames erupted in front of me, blocking the man from my sight. “Another time maybe,” I heard him say, and then I couldn’t see or hear him anymore. He had gotten away.

A figure appeared from the smoke, leaning over and offering a hand.

“Come with me if you want to live,” she said. I looked at her doubtfully, wondering if she was making a joke or something, but took her hand anyway. She pulled me to my feet, made sure I was stable, and made for the front entrance of the warehouse. I followed immediately after, not wanting her to think I was slow or something. She looked back over her shoulder for a second, and the flames died down as quickly as they had come.

So she had some sort of fire powers. She’d probably be pretty useful if she ever wanted to help me fight criminals.

“We should do something about them.” I said, gesturing to the criminals still laying on the floor. “I brought some zip ties. It’d be a waste not to make sure they’re safely in custody before we leave.”

She glanced at me, slightly exasperated. “No, actually. We don’t have evidence they really committed any crime. We can’t legally arrest them, so we’ll be leaving them here.” She swung open the double door entrance of the warehouse, letting some of the dim light from outside in.

“Then what’s the point of this? Why are you here?” I demanded, closing the door roughly behind myself.

“You’re a rising vigilante. And a good one, at that. The sooner someone takes you out the better. I’ve dealt with rookies before, and I always keep an eye on them in case they get into something they can’t handle,” she explained.

“I definitely could handle that, excuse you,” I crossed my arms.

“Your thing is emotions, right? Do you have a default mode, or are you always in crime fighting mode?” She asked. I frowned. I didn’t need this kind of criticism. “Do whatever it is you do to fix yourself, please.”

I didn’t want to follow anyone’s orders, but she was obviously curious about what I could do, so why not make a show out of it? I begrudgingly ruffled through my bag to find the vial labeled with ‘confidence,’ which still had some extra red glowing substance in it.

I glanced at her before tapping my finger to my forehead again, drawing out the emotion that had been a source of the energy that I needed to confront criminals. My mind went still while I transferred the strand almost automatically into the vial, capping it, and searched for the next emotion I wanted. A simple, light green one stood out to me, even though it didn’t glow nearly as much as some of the others. I poured some of it into my eyes, blinking to absorb it fully, and felt a subtle glow of satisfaction for the job I’d just done.

“So that’s what you do,” she mused to herself. Good, she was impressed. “What emotion do you have now?”

“Satisfaction. The bright red one I just took out was confidence. I kind of used a lot of it, so sorry if I was a little…” I trailed off, self conscious now. “Um, do you want to see the other ones?” I asked. She nodded eagerly, but then paused.

“We should probably go somewhere safer first.” As her eyes hardened I realized that she had been doing this a lot longer than me, and her ordering tone suggested that she’d be suited to a leadership role very well. I wondered if she’d been on some kind of team of vigilantes before. “I have a hideout near here, that should do.”

I gestured for her to lead the way, and she started weaving her way through the city’s alleyways, finally coming to a stop outside an inconspicuous door. “Here?” I asked.

“Yes. I have tons of these all over the city,” she explained. “It’s safe.”

“Alright,” I shrugged. She held the door open as I walked in, taking in the surroundings. There was a couch with some blankets on it, a small table with some chairs, and a sink with some cabinets. “Not used much?” I asked.

“Not really, no.” She gestured at my bag, and I only hesitated a moment before carefully taking out all of the vials I had and arranging them onto the table. I had some of almost every color, varying strength, brightness, and quantity in each bottle.

“The glowing red one’s confidence, which you knew, and the softer green is satisfaction, which you also knew… The electricity yellow one is fear or stress, that kind of thing.” I went down the line, next going to a light blue one that was slow moving like honey and a completely still, dull grey one. “The blue one is calmness, which is pretty useful. The grey one is anger, but more of a cold anger.” One of them was shining with a brilliant white light. “That’s happiness,” I said simply, pointing to it. “And sadness,” I said, looking to the deep black one next to it. That one was full, unfortunately.

“What happens when you’re not using any of them?” She asked.

“...Nothing. I mean, I just feel nothing,” I shrugged again. “My mind used to produce emotions naturally, but then I started bottling them up, and I guess I ran out. They’re all in here, now. Sometimes one will come up naturally, like this one,” I put a finger on the crackling yellow one. “And I just take it out. That’s why some are more full than others.”

She nodded, deep in thought, and gestured to the last two bottles. “Which ones are those?” One was a mellow orange, with a more liquid-like quality than most of the others. The other had a solitary string of deep, shimmering purple, by far the emptiest bottle.   

“The orange is excitement, joy, that type of thing. I swear it’s not just orange juice. The purple one, that’s, er… attraction.” I admitted. She didn’t say anything for a few moments, but that was alright.

“I see. Do you know how to use them?” She asked finally.

I blinked. “Yes? ...What do you mean by that?”

“You almost got blown up today because of taking too much confidence. It’s lucky you weren’t seriously hurt. Do you know how to balance these, and use them to your advantage?”

“I think so. I’ll be more careful next time,” I nodded in assurance. She stared at me as if to see if I meant it, then nodded in return.

“Then you can officially call yourself a vigilante, I’m giving you the go-ahead. Use this safe spot whenever you need it, call for help as needed too. The community will have your back. ...Good luck,” she said, then turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

I frowned. Was that it? Was that all it took to be a vigilante? What if this had been some sort of elaborate initiation ceremony?

...Either way I never saw her again.

[erabundus]

freefalling,  again.  there  was  something  IRONIC  about  that.  after  everything  he  had  been  through,  the  lives  he  led,  the  progress  he  struggled  to  carve  with  clumsy  hands,  the wanderer  would  find  himself  crashing  to  the  merciless  ground  —  just  a  puppet.  (  strings  clipped.  body  limp.  helpless  to  stop  his  descent.  )  the  world  ran  in  an  endless  series  of  cycles,  like  a  great  serpent  devouring  its  own  tail;  war  and  peace.  love  and  betrayal.  life  and  death.   even  ren,  destined  to  live  for  as  long  as  existence  itself,  was  still  subject  to  (  some  of  )  its  laws.  seemed  his  cycle  manifested  in  a  sequence  of  rising  and  falling  —  right  as  he  learned  to  love  the  sky,  fate  came  to  snap  his  wings  and  watch  him  plummet.

...  this  time,  he  wouldn't  be  going  down  without  a  FIGHT.

❝  GET,  ❞  kick,  ❝  OFF,  ❞   kick,  ❝  OF  ME  —  !  ❞  the  ground  was  fast  approaching  —  though  how  far  they  had  to  fall,  ren  couldn't  tell.  (  it  was  too  dark;  everything  was  moving  too  quickly.  )  if  he  could  only  get  the  blasted  creature's  tail  out  of  him,  he  could  call  on  the  wind  to  save  him.  unfortunately,  the  angle  couldn't  have  possibly  been  more  inconvenient,  and  the  metal  corkscrew  was  perfectly  carved  to  catch  on  —  everything?  he  was  aware  his  frantic  struggles  weren't  doing  him  any  favors.  the  pain  was  an  incomprehensible  blur;  agony  shuddering  through  his  entire  torso,  too  all  encompassing  to  properly  survey  the  damage.  gritting  his  teeth,  tasting  his  own  sour-sweet  (  artificial  )  blood  on  his  tongue,  the  wanderer  called  forth  anemo  in  either  palm  —  then  THREW both  arms  behind  him. anything, anything to separate them before they hit the ground.

there  was  a  blast,  wind  FLINGING  him  forward.  he  was  faintly  aware  of  something  catching,  tugging,  snapping  —  but  ren  hardly  had  time  to  register  what  before  he  crashed full body  into  the  rocky  wall.  in  his  panic,  he  used  too  much  FORCE.

darkness  swam  at  the  corners  of  his  vision.  he  was  falling,  too  dazed  to  stop  himself.  fade  to  black.  then,  a  mighty  crash  —  and  once  again,  the  pain  radiating  through  his  skull  felt  strangely  familiar.  fade  to  black.  then,  he  was  pulling  himself  to  his  feet,  shoulder  digging  into  the  wall,  throat  whistling  with  a  horrible,  sticky  wheeze.  he  stared  at  the  ruin  serpent,  enshrouded  in  a  cloud  of  stirred  dust.  snarling with a fight he was surprised he had left, eyes wild, blood spilling down his chin like some vicious predator backed into a corner. counting  the  seconds  by  the  steady  drip,  drip,  drip  of  the  hole  in  what  would  have  been  a  moral's stomach.  dead  for  good,  this  time?  (  ... he  HOPED.  ) ren  slowly  spun  himself  around,  taking  one  unsteady  step  forward,  then  another,  before  his  legs  gave  out  from  under  him. again, he hit the ground.  fade  to  black.

when  he  opened  his  eyes  again,  the  first  thing  he  saw  was  kazuha's  face.

❝  kh ...  ❞  he  could  only  manage  the  first  syllable  of  his  name,  so  faint  it  was  barely  more  than  a  whisper.  (  his  tongue  felt  clumsy.  slow  to  move.  stuck  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth.  )  when  did  the  ronin  get  there?  how  long  was  he  unconscious?  ...  had  he  been  CRYING?  the  third  question  was  met  with  a  sick  little  jolt  of  amusement  —  what  would  compel  him  to  cry?  he  was  safe;  ren  would  heal.  as  long  as  his  human  still  drew  breath,  everything  would  sort  itself  out  in  time.  a  puppet  crafted  by  the  power  of  a  god  wouldn't  break  so  easily; he had endured far worse than this during his time charting the ABYSS.

then  an unexpected  wave  of  dizziness  washed  over  him,  and  with  it  came  the  REALIZATION  that  perhaps  this  injury  wasn't  so  minor  after  all.

dread rising in his throat, the  wanderer  took  quick,  useless  breaths.  (  hyperventilating ...  like  a  human.  )  raising  one  shuddering  hand,  he  stared  in  wordless  horror  at  the  fluid  smeared  across  his  palm.  red.  red.  red.  yet  mixed  with  the  vibrant  crimson  were  thin  wisps  of  a  purple  liquid  that  glittered  like  the  stars.  shit.  shit.  it  was  then  that  he  became all too  aware  of  a  peculiar  twinge  in  his  chest  —  a  cold  intrusion,  something  lodged  in  his  vitals.  (  the  only  vitals  that  actually  mattered.  )  had  the  serpent's  tail  reached  that  high?  this ...  might  actually  be  a  problem.

❝  kazu ...  kazuha.  ❞  out. he  needed  to  get  it  out.  whatever  it  was  —  and  hope  his  body  could  seal  the  wound  before  he  bled  to  death.  (  him,  bleeding  to  death!  he  refused  to  die  like  that.  )   ❝  sit  me  up ...  stay  calm ...  okay?  i  need  you  to  listen ...  closely ...  ❞

i  might  die.  ren  didn't  want  to  say  it.  he  had  never  imagined  a  future  where  he  may  be  the  one  to  leave  kazuha.  never  even  thought  it  was  possible  —  until  that  very  moment.

( @erabundus ) said...

the  ruin  serpent seemed to cry out  as  it  collapsed  —  a  horrible  groan  like  bending  metal  that  reverberated  through  ren's  entire  chest.  he  raised  an  arm  to  shield  his  face  from  the  dust,  cruel  smile  tugging  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth.   ❝  done  already?  we  were  just  getting  started.  ❞  what  a  tragedy.  brushing  off  his  shoulder,  he  gave  kazuha  a  wink  —  seeming  to  be  in  almost  unusually  high  spirits.  (  though  whether  from  their  success,  or  expert  display  of  teamwork  was  unclear.  )   ❝  it's  strange,  ❞   he  mused,  ❝  you  don't  often  find  these  machines  so  close  to  the  SURFACE.  ❞  curiosity  and  a  desire  to  see  what  spoils  their  victory  netted  got  the  better  of  him;  ren  wandered  over  to  inspect  their  fallen  foe.

fingers  traced  the  patchwork  of  stone  and  metal.  (  he  thought  he  felt  the  faint  stirrings  of  kinship.  )  ren  was  silent  as  he  conducted  his  inspection,  opening  his  mouth  after  what  felt  like  an  eternity  —  only  for  the  words  to  DIE  in  his  throat  when  the  serpent  unexpectedly stirred  back  to  life.

eyes  went  wide.  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder,  seeing  (  as  if  in  slow  motion  )  its  tail  swing  straight  for  his  companion.  panic  clawed  at  the  back  of  his  skull  —  no  no  no,  not  again.  a  series  of  memories  flashed  through  his  head.  niwa,  bleeding  to  a  slow,  shameful  death.  a  child's  lifeless  body.  kazuha,  broken  beneath  a  tree.  not  again.  not  again.  ren  lunged,  anemo  fueling  his  movements  as  he  cleared  the  distance  with  just  enough  time  to  shove  the human ( his human, his treasure, his other half )  out  of  harm's  way.  he  swore  he  would  take  RESPONSIBILITY  for  his  life,  and  the wanderer  was  determined  to  see  it  through.  no  matter  the  cost.

a  steady  drip,  drip,  drip  suddenly reached  his  ears.  ren  glanced  down  to  see  the tip of the  ruin  serpent's  tail  sticking  out  of  his  midsection.

❝  oh ...  ❞   was  all  he  managed  to  get  out,  choking  on  a  mouthful  of  blood.  he  coughed,  then  angrily hissed  through  red-stained  teeth  when  the  machine  lurched.  ren  grabbed  its  tail,  hanging  on  for  dear  life.  (  not  through  him.  it  wasn't  getting  through  him.  )  he  spared  kazuha  a  glance,  offering  a  reassuring  smile  —  just  for  a  moment.  just  before  pulling  with  all  his  might  to  drag  both  himself  and  the  ruin  serpent  off  the  edge  of  the  nearby  ravine.

there was silence. a faint CRASH as the two hit the ground. then silence once more.

⸻ it wasn't that long ago that the two of them set out to go to sumeru after the lantern rite. normally kazuha would sail with the crux fleet and they would get there in one to two days, but this time was different. this would be the first trip that ren and would travel together not as companions but as a couple. boyfriends.... a term kazuha had to get used to as he never really had been in a relationship like this before. it was all so new... but he had a strong feeling he wasn't the only one experiencing this.

on their way to sumeru, they had to cross through the chasm and they decided to pick up a quest that would pay them well. getting a runic fang from the ruin serpent. kazuha didn't think that much of it since the two of them together were a force to be reckoned with. it should have gone swiftly and smoothly. and that's what it was at first.. everything went according to plan, and nothing was out of the ordinary. besides, maybe this serpent was way closer to the surface than it normally would be... which was odd.

after kazuha sheath his sword and it vanished in a green light, he raised his eyes and met ren's winking... he could feel his cheeks heating up a little. but what he said about that he also found this whole situation... strange... gave kazuha some unsettling nerves, like something was about to happen. something bad.

before he even had to chance to suggest to ren that they should get out of there.. it happened.... it happened all in a matter of seconds but what felt like a slow-motion play. kazuha saw the oncoming attack but his body froze and couldn't move... he knew that if he would get hit the chances of him surviving the hit was very slim. it was like back then with the ruin guards... he was alone then.. this time was different.

his body moved but it wasn't moving on its own, it was moved out of the way by what felt like a strong wind. but kazuha knew instantly that it wasn't the wind that pushed him. no, it was a person... or more specifically it was ren.  

❛      ren... ❜ a shaking hand reaching out as crimson eyes widened in disbelief at the view right in front of him. his fingertips only barely graced ren's cheek before the tail moved and ren's reassuring smile was branded into his memory. as if it would be the last time he would see him.

silence.... the silence... of what just happened in the past couple of minutes.. it made kazuha's whole being spiral into an anxiety attack, the memories of his friend's slain body in front of him. the fallen bodies of the soldiers of the watatsumi resistance. the people protecting him. nononono... this wasn't happening this was nothing but an evil foul nightmare that he was about to wake up from. 

tears started to form and run down his cheeks, as he pushed himself up and move to the edge that ren and the serpent fell over, down below. without a single thought besides ren, he jumped over the edge and descended to the depths below. the sight he was met with was... horrific.... he almost stumbled upon reaching ren's body. he has never seen somebody in shape, everything was red. so much blood. ''please no.. not him.. not again''

kazuha's knees gave out as he dropped next to ren's body carefully reaching out with his bare hand. he wanted to know... no, he needed to know that he was still alive. 

❛      ren...      ❜ ❛      ren...      ❜

nothing... not a single form of movement. the only thing that kazuha could feel was the little tingle feeling in his fingers when he touched ren's blood. that couldn't be good. no.. that was bad, like really bad. but who was going to help him? how would he get help? he couldn't leave ren behind alone. kazuha couldn't see clearly as the tears were blocking his vision.. he carefully placed ren's upper body on his lap holding him as carefully as possible not trying to make the wound... or hole worse. 

suddenly a warmth graced the palm of his hand and a vague light came through his fingers.... his vision.. of course... was the indicator of ren being alive. kazuha couldn't help but smile..but that would be gone in an instant as he couldn't see any movement in ren's face.   

❛      please open your eyes to me.... ❜  ❛      please don't leave me... ❜ ❛      please ren.... ❜ ❛      please aoi hasu.... ❜

[casuallivi]

Three is a Party

kicking of elrielmonth22 week five with a high kick! *excited karate noises* At some point during the writing i popped Pony by Ginuwine, and that's how you know i went deep in my head, LOL 😅😆

Summary: When Elain chosed Azriel she didn't expect to have a third part involved in their relationship.

Warnings: Listen, this is extremely NSFW, the filthiest thing I shared to date! I wont say much because: suprises. Read at your own risk. Post ACOSF.

Word Count: 7054 (of basically smut, because that’s who I am as a person today)

.............

The colors of dusk painted the open sky behind the opulent towers of the House of Wind, long shadows covering the empty training ring where Azriel landed.

He slid the glass door open trudging inside, wings heavy from the long hours patrolling the Coast. The interior quiet without the newly-mated couple humping on every corner of it, Cassian gone to Illyria, surveying a new focus of rebel spree, Nesta following behind to stay with Emerie, leaving Azriel and The House behind. Not that him –or The House– cared. He spotted the interrupted mess of flour on the countertop and smiled, her unforgettable scent beginning to fade from the kitchen. Azriel hadn’t stayed up here for longer than training hours since the wedding, eventually stopping coming all together since Mor returned to replace him. Nowadays all of his free time was spent in a small apartment, bustling with indoor plants, near the Palace of Bone and Salt. The reason Azriel was here and not in his girlfriend cozy apartment? The perfumed note waiting for him in her bedside table.

Meet me at the House of Wind.

So here he was, climbing the stairs to reach his neglected room, whistling and skipping steps like an overly excited youth. Then the sound came. Azriel stopped, ears fluttering to capture the sound again, not believing what he was hearing. An army of angry shadows swarmed him, the siphons on top of each hand flaring to life, all of his senses focused on the distinct sound of female moaning and panting, because they were not being produced by any female. Azriel knew those delicious high-pitched moans well enough to gather that she was not playing with herself. Even if his memory was altered by the most intricated of spells, erasing every aspect of his essence, Azriel would still remember every little thing about her, especially the sounds she made being pleasure by him.

His nostrils flared searching for confirmation in the lingering scents on the hallway. He found nothing but himself and Elain, deep churning cedar and jasmine intertwined, dripping with heavy musky notes of arouse and lust, her honeyed cum perfuming the air like his sweetest punishment. A deep snarl escaped his lips when Elain moaned louder, dark hot jealousy freezing his veins, cobalt waves of power rattling the expensive paintings on the walls. The door to his room was slightly ajar. Azriel pushed inside, being greeted with a vision able to drive him insane for a variety of reasons, good and bad ones.

There she was.

Elain.

His beautiful Elain wearing nothing but his heart, naked in all her glory, straddling his lap, hair pushed to the front, leaving her slim back on disposal, the vision disrupted by her long creamy arms tied behind her back by a black silk fold –the twin to the one in his pocket. She kissing him deeply, her tongue slipping in and out of his mouth like his cock slipped in and out of her slippery pussy. He slapped her ass, which was decorated with various round marks varying in tones of pink and red, opening her, fifthly grinding her up and down his length. Elain cried, stretched and gushing around the thick intruder, feeling overheated, sweat running down her body, intertwining her fingers and pushing her breast forward, trying to gain momentum to meet him thrust by thrust. He chuckled at her efforts.

“Oh gods, oh my, my, oh,” she babbled lost in pleasure, eyelids fluttering.

Motherfucker. Azriel cursed under his breath, jealous that he wasn’t the one coaxing the melodious harmonies from her.

After finding out why he rejected her on solstice, Elain shared a piece of mind with Azriel, beating him with the fresh petunias she happened to be holding. “Your coward,” a strike from the left, “bat, stupid, stupid,” a strike from the right, “you left me!” She stroke his shoulder, “you could have,” stroke on his head, “told me! You called a mistake! I cried for you!” Another strike, “get out! Get out! Get out!”

Azriel didn’t avoid any of the hits as she vented her anger, petals scattering around them. He deserved worse. “Elain, please. Let me explain,”

“No!” she snarled a little breathless. “You didn’t explain when it mattered, now I don’t want to listen. I have no interest in a man who doesn’t want me. I’m not doing that again. Get out!”

True to herself, Elain didn’t listen to him that day or any other (no matter how hard he tried to speak with her when they saw each other), it didn’t help that she had moved out from the River House, making it harder for him to “coincidentally” come across her. But Azriel was not about to repeat his mistake, he would not pretend her indifference wasn’t killing him, nor that he liked to avoid her, a stupid thing he stopped doing after their fight.

Shameless as only a male knows how the be, he discovered her address with little to none effort, abusing his abilities to leave a white tulip at her doorsteps, apology notes tied to the thin stems. I love your handwriting, she told him once, so he wrote her, every day, until Elain, who was a much better person than him, decided to end his penitence. One day he winnowed to her place to find her sitting on the doorsteps, all ninety-nine tulips sitting in a big transparent vase with a cobalt bow around it, alive and fresh as if they had just been plucked. Elain extended her hand, waiting for the hundredth, and Azriel gave her.

That day he talked, and she listened.

He told her everything. Even things that no one else knew, secrets regarding his powers, exposing the real nature of his shadows, how they were a sentient being in more ways than other supposed. The further he developed his powers, the powerful the shadows became, until one day he came: The Shadowsinger. The truth was that name meant more than a way to refer to him for the nature of his powers. Azriel’s shadows liked to take his shape.

The Shadowsinger was “living and breathing” creature born from swirling tendrils of darkness, who possessed their own old magic, curving and shaping as the Illyrian they choose to call master: Azriel. With a mind of his own, the bastard mimicked Azriel with the precision of a twin, from the tip of his toes to the tip of his wings, the massive frame, which was made of darkness, evolving to real life flesh and bones, color blooming from the pitch black form, the skin acquiring the same bronzed tone, wings measuring the same length, hands baring the same scars, the only visible difference being in the eyes.

Where Azriel had hazel ones, his shadow-self were pitch black.

For half millennium two of him roamed on earth, a secret he kept sealed in the deepest vault of his mind. Now she knew. And Azriel could finally breath, knowing there was someone who he didn’t have to hide from, who he didn’t have to keep himself in check with, he could simple be. Life was good.

Except for the fact the bastard walking around with his face. When Azriel was too tired to hold him in check, the fucking Shadowsinger separated himself from his controlled shadows, “awaking” and walking around as if he was the owner of the skin, delighting in pain and pleasure, causing havoc and fucking whoever he charmed (which wasn’t hard to do with his looks).

Now here he was, fucking his girlfriend.

Since when had this stunt being going on?

Through the frenzy of their noisy fucking, he stilled Elain's hips, smirking at Azriel.

"No!" she chocked trying to bounce with no success, unable to move with his strong hands stopping her. "I want to come." She whined frustrated.

"It seems like we have company, little seer." Shadow-Azriel drawled out, licking her shoulder, his pitch-black eyes looking over her straight into Azriel’s churning hazel ones. "Like what you see?" he challenged his master, lifting his hips into Elain, making her whimper.

"I told you to stay away from her," Azriel growled in a menacing tone. The shadowsinger cocked his head at him, sneering. "You didn't, why should I?" The scent of challenge filled the room, mixed with subtle notes of interest coming from Elain, who had finally turned to look at him.

“Untie me.” She asked calmly (the calmer one could sound with their breath all over the place) to the one under her, who swiftly set her free, rubbing her pink wrists when she got down from his lap. Illyrian and Shadow stared at each other. Elain was the one to broke the silence. “Hi.”

Azriel glared at her.

“Hi?” he repeated incredulous. “Hi?!!”

Shadow kissed her bruised wrists, trying to get her attention, biting the inner flesh just for the hell of it. She nudged him away, asking Azriel. “Are you jealous of yourself?” eyes sparkling with mischief.

“He is not me.” He replied coldly, sulking “shadows and old trickery, that’s what he is.”

“And who’s shadows are they?” she asked softly, absently rubbing his counterpart knee.

“…Mine.”

Elain smiled, cheeks flushed. “Come here, love.”

“Nah, let him go back to his boring duties. Don’t worry, I can entertain our girl.

Azriel flipped him, striding to bed. He wouldn’t voice it out loud, but sometimes he felt envious of the Shadowsinger jovial expression. He maintained his blank feature coated with a pinch of politeness and the trademark confident stance, except he was freer from the jaded expression that seemed to perpetually stare back at him in the mirror, a tired soul who led a hard life.

“Well, your boyfriend is back,” Shadow declared with petulance, "the boring one."

"Her only boyfriend." Azriel grumbled, grabbing Elain’s chin, "I’m your boyfriend. Me."

She gave him a peck.

“Of course.”

His shadow-self scorned.

“What am I, then? Chopped wood?” Elain giggled, “keep laughing pretty girl, I have wood for you down here.” He lifted his hips suggestively, his erection jumping. She gulped down, looking back at Azriel, big doe eyes melting in pure mischief. “Take your shirt off.” She commanded.

“Do it yourself.” He snapped back, stopping at the edge of the mattress.

Elain crawled closer to kneel near him, her arousal thicker than ever while she pushed his cold jacket down, undoing the slacks of his shirt to brush them off his powerful shoulders. “You’re so pretty.” His wings twitched at her words, eyes focused on her lovely bare tits, grabbing them, pressing his thumb on the swollen bruised nipple, tracing the bite marks on the aureole. Elain held his shoulder when he squeezed both tits, pinching her nipples hard. Her fingers trembled as she moved to the cords in his pants.

“That’s not my shirt, flower.” Azriel teased, toeing his boots off.

“I know.” She replied, the pink blush from her cheeks and neck spreading across her lovely tits. He made no effort to help her take the leather down. When she was done, Azriel stood there, clad in boxers and socks, wings spread in full length as Elain drunk him in, licking her lips, legs pressed together. She slipped a finger inside his underwear, pulling and let it slap against his skin.

“You look ridiculous.” His shadow commented.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Elain’s heartbeat was increasing its pace by the second. At first she felt slightly embarrassed to be naked with two male in the room, embarrassed to be aroused by it. She gulped, focused on wandering her finger pads across Azriel’s sculpted chest sleek running down her shut thighs. She wanted them. She wanted her beautiful brave Azriel, and she wanted his vicious dirty counterpart, the one who called himself Shadowsinger, using her lovers frame to walk free in the world of living.

Elain wasn’t naïve. She knew what the Shadowsinger was attracted to, he had felt her instantly; the seer lurking beneath her skin, her own slice of darkness and mist and magic trying to break free into the world. The Seer and The Shadowsinger couldn’t get enough of each other, and every time he saw Elain, the shadow-Romeo tried to woo her.

“Come on, Ellie.” He begged behind her for the hundredth time that afternoon, pushing her braid to kiss her shoulder. “One time. Let’s do it one time, and if you don’t like I’ll bring it up again.

She rolled her eyes, driving her elbow hard on his gut in attempted to shake him off her. The House plopped more flour on the counter, wining a smiley “thank you,” from Elain. The lights twinkled.

“I won’t cheat my boyfriend.” She vowed, mixing the ingredients on the table top, kneading the dough with renewed strength.

Boyfriend.

The word still sounded a bit foreign to Elain. Proper human ladies didn’t have boyfriends. They had a coming of age ceremony, were introduced to society in a ball, got engaged and got married. The fae were much loose when it came to relationships. Elain knew she wanted Azriel, she had known for a long time. However, after having a disastrous almost-wedding when human, she lacked the confidence to be someone’s fiancée again. Yet she had accepted his ring.

A beautiful white-gold band she always wore on her right hand, a heart-shaped pink sapphire flaked by two smaller diamonds on each side resting on top of it. Azriel were a similar band, with no stones in it, her full name engraved on the inside with her own handwriting. Elain Acheron. She cried when he asked her to put it on his finger, after placing her ring on hers. Therefore, she was Azriel’s girlfriend, he was her boyfriend, and life was good. If you don’t count his shameless shadow-self wanting to get inside her knickers every other day.

“Is not cheating, little seer. I’m like him, only better.” He winked, hugging her from behind, squeezing her waist, kissing her neck. Her lids grow heavier when he started nibbling on her skin, her traiteurs body convinced the scarred hands slipping behind her apron, cupping her breasts, were the same ones pleasing her bed a few nights ago.  

An involuntary moan escaped her when his teeth grazed her skin, and she slapped her mouth loudly, leaving white flour prints in her face. The Shadowsinger being handsy was no news to her, but her body reacting to it was.

“You’re not him.” She countered weakly.

“I’m a part of him.” At that he could feel her interest, smiling, he continued, “I was born for him,” he used his knees to part her legs, stepping between them, flattening her palms on the counter. “Azriel won’t mind.” He throwed to close the deal, biting the place where he had kissed.

Elain gasp-laughed.

“I don’t think you know him very well.”

“He won’t mind me.” He clarified turning her face to him, waiting. “We’ve shared before.”

Elain shivered.

“You have?”

“We have.”

His thumb skated across her lower lip, his head suddenly bending down to kiss upper one.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled with her eyes half-closed, her head leaning back against him.

“Making sure your apron checks out.”

She looked at him quizzically before remembering the apron she had on: I kiss better than I cook.

He kissed her again, an innocent peck, testing. Elain sighed, throwing one hand back to pull his hair, pushing him down to kiss her properly. His kiss felt like Azriel’s but tasted different, darker, as if he was trying to devour the light out of her.  “You want to make love to me?” she asked a heartbeat later, shy.

The Shadowsinger laughed, holding her neck to kiss her ear, licking the elongated new curve, pulling it with his teeth. “No little seer, I want to fuck you.” Elain opened her eyes again, the pupils dilated, big and round with lust. “I saw your skin glow once. I wonder if you do that when you come.”

“Why don’t you find out?” She dared him.

The first bolt was quick, messy, dirty. When she said “yes” he knocked her bely down on the kitchen table, not caring for the fresh pasta dough flour on it, kneeling behind her and pushing her dress up to eat her out. Elain was still shaking from the first orgasm when he slapped her ass with a forgotten wooden spoon, startling her,

“What are you,” he slapped again, smearing the remains of buttery cream on the pinkish skin, licking the mess created. “Oh gods.” She moaned.

Azriel had slapped her ass before, but he had never hit her with an object. Ever. Let alone with a kitchen tool. Her cheeks flushed.

“Look at you, getting hot with a little spanking.” He caressed her spine, rubbing his clothed erection her bare ass, “we’ll have so much fun. Just don’t tell Az.”

“What?” She startled

He thrown her over his shoulder and carried her upstairs, claiming “table sex is for horny youth. Grown women need to be properly spread in a grown bed.” At the time Elain giggled. Had she known how truthfully spread she would be, she wouldn’t have giggled, she would have screamed for help. But not too loud, or else The House might have saved her.

Now here she was.

Naked in bed with her lover, a lover that came from her boyfriend, said boyfriend staring at them. The three lovers studied each other trying to decide what to do next. Azriel glanced at Elain, smelling her arousal thicker than ever. There was no denying it, she was sexually overwhelmed by having them in the same room. She was desperately turned on.

Losing his patient with the couple of frozen deers, Shadow tackled her on the bed, spreading her knees to plunge two fingers inside her, not moving them. “Still soaked,” he teased. Elain gasped a moaned, eyes wide, grinding against him, shameless, wetness smearing from her parted thighs to his hand.

“If memory serves you were demanding to come.”

“Yes,” she panted in agreement.

“Use your words, babe.”

“Please, please make me come.”

"So so wet." Shadow taunted in a playful voice, turning to Azriel. “Our girl was having fun when you interrupted us.”

Elain lifted her hips from the bed, widening her open legs, silently begging him to move. He didn’t

"See, she wants to come.” He smirked while looking down at her.

Azriel climbed on the bed, slapping the other male hand away. Elain cried in frustration when the fingers slipped out leaving her needy. She just needed a little more. Just a little bit. She wished someone would give it to her. Azriel. Shadow-Azriel. She didn’t care anymore. She wanted to feel good.

Elain pulled Azriel down on top of her, sneaking her eager hands inside his underwear to grab his ass. She loved his ass, it was hard and firm like the rest of the chiseled body, except that when she pushed his ass forward, she was usually rewarded with his cock rocking into her. Like now. Elain grind on him shamelessly, Azriel capturing her mouth in a wild kiss.

His shadow-self moved away, giving them a better space to work with, palming his throbbing erection lazily, a smile playing on his lips. He thought it was funny how the once shy beauty was now very excited to receive attention. Azriel kissed her neck and she grabbed his hair, yanking hard to detached him from her. She didn’t need foreplay, she enough of it already, now she wanted to come. Quickly.

“Down.” She commanded with a raspy voice.

The simple four-letter words had Azriel shivering.

Fuck, she was sexy.

He kissed his way down, gently running his fingers across her nether folds to sink them inside, using his thumb to play with her swollen clit. Feeling his breath right where she wanted, Elain pushed her hips up while using all her new strength to push his head down. Azriel didn’t budge. She wanted to cry. He laughed. She wanted to kill him. Ever the competitive jerk that he was he was, he tryed to show her who was in control. He kissed her thighs, going all the way down to her knees, kissing and licking back up, licking all the way to her crotch, his tongue coming dangerously close to her leaking folds before withdrawing.

Elain trashed on the messy bed, frustrate tears forming in her eyes. She extends a hand to the other him beside her, who softly captured it, kissing her knuckles. “Help me.”

“I’m not the one playing with you now, babe.”

He sucked her finger, smearing her with hot saliva, making obscene noises on purpose. Elain hated him too. Her breath hitched when Azriel finally ran his nose between her legs, deeply inhaling her scent, then his tongue was on her, savoring her slowly, sucking and licking her clit. His mouth and fingers worked together on her already excited body, picking up the pace left behind by his shadow.

Elain’s breath turned heavier, her moans high pitched as the orgasmic wave washed over her, legs closing around Azriel’s head, holding him there, clawing the sheet. He licked her clean, finishing with a kiss, straightening to kiss her the mouth, his lips glossy and shiny from her release, a satisfied smile on his face.

Beside her, Shadow let out a disappointed puff. “That’s four, and still no sign of enjoyment from my lovely seer.”

He mumbled, counting her orgasms, moody about her skin not glowing once.

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” She teased.

He squinted at her.

“You are a gluttonous one, aren’t you?!”

Ignoring him, Elain grabbed at Azriel, rubbing his hard on before removing his boxers. He climbed on top of her,

“No missionary!” Shadow called, using his authority voice, one Azriel had perfected thru decades of commanding, and that now was making him growl for being interrupted. He really wanted to kill his shadow-self. To bad the bastard couldn’t die. “Do her reverse cowgirl, or from behind.”

They looked at Shadow. Azriel quirking a brow, Elain blushing furiously.

“I want in.” He said simply. At that, Elain’s heartbeat increased, her dark eyes blown wild. He paused. “Is that okay with you, babe?”

Azriel was also staring at her, both male not even breathing, waiting for her answer. Elain swallowed, her throat dry all of sudden. “Yes.” She mumbled so low their fae ears barely pick up, her neck tomato red. Azriel blown a breath, putting his elbows beside her head, hands on her hair, spreading his wing to shield them, luring her attention only to him.

“Rude.” He heard coming from outside.

Her heart was beating like crazy, so fast he was afraid she would pass out on them.

“Elain, look at me.” She did. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I would never, ever,”

“I know.” She interrupted. Not wanting to feed his insecurities. Elain trusted Azriel with her life. She always had.

“I would never, ever force you do anything you don’t want to.” He finished. Needing to reassure her. Needing to reassure himself.

“I know. I trust you. Both of you. I want this.”

“Then why are you frightened? I can scent it on you. Fear.” He uttered the last word in a small voice, his arouse giving place to huge distress. Azriel was starting to panic. The one emotion he never wanted Elain associating with him was fear. Azriel could live with Elain hating him, loathing his very essence him, cursing his name to the wind, but he could live with her being afraid of him. He could not stand it.

“Hey, hey, Az. Look at me.” Elain held his face, the fine cutted stone digging on his cheek. “I’m just. You know I don’t have–That I’m not. I’m not experienced like you.” She stammered.

“I know.”

“It’s just a little first-timer-scare, that’s all. Can’t you scent the other things? How much I want you? How I can wait to have you inside of me? I want all of you.” she guided his hand between her thighs, proving her words. “Okay?” When he didn’t answer she locked her legs around his waist, pulling his weight on top of her completely, kissing his pout. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now make love to me.”

Azriel let out a deep breath to shake his insecurities, moving to sit back against the headboard.

“You shouldn’t leave me out of the important conversations, I can calm her too.” Shadow said getting on his knees

“Mother have mercy, do you ever shut up? Do I have to find a gage for you?”

Before Shadow could open his mouth, Elain cupped her breasts, jiggling them, saying,

“I could feed him these, that would shush him.”

The room went deadly quiet, then both males laughed. A joyous contagious laugh that left her feeling proudly to coax those sounds out of him.

“Fuck, I’ve forgot how funny you are.”

Smiling, Elain turned towards Shadow, face upturned. He gave her a quick peck and she went over to Azriel, straddling him in reverse, who kissed her spine, helping her to slid onto his dick with ease, since Shadow had already stretched her earlier. “Oh gods, I love sitting on you,” she mumbled bouncing up and down with enthusiasm, Azriel gripping her hips in a bruising grip, moaning her name with reverence as if she was his personal goddess. Her eyes darted to Shadow, who’s eyes were glued to her bouncing tits. She squeezed them, lifting one to her lips, licking the best she could to entertain him.

“I love you,” she moaned staring back. “My beautiful Az. And my beautiful Shadowsinger.”

“Huh, El. I’m not beautiful.” Shadow protested going over to the couple, “handsome, hot, perfect, incredibly sexy. You can call me one of those.” She gasped a laugh, eyes flashing white for a split second. “There she is, my seer. I’ve been trying to coax you out for hours, and you come when I’m talking about myself? Naughty, naughty vixen.” He grabbed the back of her neck, guiding her down to where he was kneeling.

"Beg." Shadow demanded pulling her hair, forcing her to look in his eyes. “Beg, and I’ll glow the hell out of you.”

Elain braced herself, face to face with his erection, biting her lower lip, sure she had flushed all the tones possible.  Azriel sneered at the irony of feeling overshadow by his own fucking shadow, his hand circling around her to play with her clit. Elain whimpered, leaned back against him, Azriel sucking on her neck while she rode him, squeezing her inner muscles around him, eyes growing heavy. She squeezed his thighs and leaned forward to Shadow. “I want you.” She pleaded. “I want all of you.”

Elain skipped the foreplay, sucking all she could, but she was struggling to be flexible in that position. His hands gripped her hair. “Babe, can you let me fuck your mouth?” he asked in a soft voice.

She obeyed, relaxing her mouth, allowing Shadow to thrust into her, his hips going from slow to fast, head titled back, eyes shut in ecstasy. “Fuck.” He cursed looking down at her, watching his cock entering her tight wet mouth, saliva dripping down her chin as she gagged on his dick. Soon the moaning filled the bedroom, Elain and Azriel panting in unison. Feeling the heat spreading from her lower abdomen, her walls spasming out of control, Elain started to mumble around Shadow’s dick, and he removed himself, not wanting to get bitten.

Azriel’s thumb kept the rhythm in her clit, making her cry louder and louder, both males delighting in the sweet sounds of her pleasure. Her muscles clamped around him, legs quivering as her world exploded, tears running down her face, black spots dotting her vision. Azriel slammed on her a few more times to meet his release, holding her down to come deep inside, branding her with his seed. He leaned back against the headboard, breathing her scent to recover.

Shadow stroked himself the entire time. He watched Elain leave Azriel’s lap, his cum running down her trembling thighs, as she went to him. When she managed to stay on her knees he wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbed their noses together and kissed her. Elain sighed over his lips, using her tongue to deepen the kiss, her hand skating down to jerk him. She didn’t know how he liked it, but she knew how Azriel did; tight and fast. The Shadowsinger, who was already on the edge, came with a few more rough tugs, his cum splattering on her stomach, filling her hands.

Her knees gave out, Shadow’s strong arms coming to support her, letting her down gently. Elain melt into him, gulping rapid mouthful of air, felling every nerve in her body tingling, sparkling, nestled comfortably between her Azriels as she continued to spasm, muscles clenching and unclenching, burned form the aftershocks of climax.

.

.

.

Once the shivers subsided, Elain sighed at the sensations of both males touching her in different places, soothing her, pleasuring her. She laid on her side, Azriel in front of her –playing with her sensitive breasts– and Shadow behind –kissing her shoulder.

Suddenly feeling shy, Elain locked eyes with Azriel, who chuckled, quickly identifying the subtle change in her passionate eyes.

There was nothing sexier than Azriel bed-rumpled-hair, wet curls plastered to his forehead, a silly smile on his lips, eyes filled with love and burning desire. He closed the space between them, teasing her with a couple of pecks that evolved to searing kiss, tasting every inch of her mouth with his ravenous tongue. She glowed. The Shadowsinger spooned closer, his semi-hard pressing against her, tongue lapping her throat, leaving sticky paths of saliva on her skin, his hand wrapping around her body to stroke her folds.

Elain gasped on Azriel’s lips, pushing back against his shadow-self, loving the feel of his finger exploring her. Her boyfriend pulled back to trail kisses on her chest, teeth scrapping red lines on every part of her sternum, biting around her breasts to leave vivid purple marks on her skin before giving attention to her nipples. Meanwhile Shadow’s lips descended her back, tasting from the length of her spine to the small of her back. Up and down he went, leaving his trail of open mouth kisses, teeth imprinting on her hips, licking and swirling across the small dents on top of her ass. He moved her leg to top Azriel’s rib, spreading her open to lap the inviting crack of her behind, thrusting his tongue in and out of her little hole, his dick getting harder the louder her moans pitched.

Elain gasped out of her mind, and for a few seconds, she felt different.

Her eyes flashed white.

And stayed.

The Shadowsinger held his breath before throwing his hands in the air, celebrating. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you look so hot! Let me look at you.” She turned to her other side as Azriel left the bed. Shadow grabbed her face, peppering it with kisses.

“Hi.” She breathed with difficulty, having spent a considerable amount of energy to take over completely.

“Hey gorgeous. You came to play with me?” she nodded.

The Seer sat back on her heels, white eyes roaming all over him, before settling on his hard on. She bent and kissed the tip, moving to the stunning adonis belt, kissing both sides, her tongue darting over the sweaty skin, Shadow gently gathering her messy golden halo in his first to better see her face, “Tell me what you want.” He hissed when she bite him hard enough to bleed. She kept licking, tracing every little bump and curve from his abs, circling his nipples, his neck, his chin, his lower lip, which she clamped between her sharp teeth. “I want you to suck my tongue. And fuck my ass.”

“Never ask twice.” He pulled her down on top of him, stroking her back, moving down to her lovely bum, squeezing and mashing the luscious flesh in his big hands. “Has anyone fucked you here before, love?”

She shook her head, pinching his nipples painfully. “Azriel played with Elain.” She mumbled with resentment, trying to scratch his torso, letting out a frustrated groan when her too-short nails didn’t sink deep enough. “I saw him doing it. Showed her how good it was. Gave her courage. Yet he never played with me.” She finished with a pout.

“Did you come out to him?” he asked amicably, whooshing a breath when she grinded on him, her sleek fold going all the way to the head, letting is dip inside, teasing, before grinding back down to the base. His balls twitched, heavy and aching like her full breasts.

She shook her head again, moving to whisper in his ear.

“I can’t come out when they are in bed. Elain locks me deep, deep, down. Controls me. She’s possessive.”

“Sounds like her.” Azriel chuckled returning to the bed. He didn’t know Elain could control the seer well enough to lock her. They would have to dive on that topic later.

“Don’t worry, love. We’ll fix that.” Shadow promised, ignoring Azriel’s thoughts about boring training and stupid mastering of abilities. Everyone knows the best abilities are the ones who can run wild, like Shadow himself. Besides, it was in his best interest to frequent Elain’s bed, making this more than a one-time deal, and bringing his Seer to the mix was not a choice, but a priority. He spread her ass cheeks, the tip of his thumb dipping inside and outside his favorite hole. “How she’s looking over there?”

“Perfect.”

Azriel tossed him a small bottle of lube.

The Seer pushed herself up and straddled him backwards, bracing herself on his thighs, waiting. He quickly drabbed the mix on his cock, groaning at the view. She bit her lip when Shadow pushed the head inside, wincing at the initial sting of pain. He slid a little further and stopped. “You good?” he asked her, hands running up and down her body, working to sooth her.

“Yeah.” She answered staring at Azriel, who watched her with eyes so dark he become the perfect twin to her Shadowsinger. “Missed me?” she asked looking at him from under her lashes, coy.

He smiled at her attempt to pretend shyness.

“Dangerous question. If I say no, Elain will sulky saying I don’t like all parts of her, and if I say yes, Elain will sulk saying I prefer you.” He shrugged. “I’ll abstain.”

She laughed.

“Look at you, expert in Elain Archeron.”

“I do what I can.”

“Kiss me.” She demanded with urgency. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you whatever you want. I can tell you so many thigs,” she placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “I can tell you for how long this will beat. I can tell you your future. Do you want to know?”

Azriel grabbed her chin fiercely, bringing her mouth closer. “Is Elain in it?”

She cocked her head, squinting to better see the images only she could see.

“Yes.”

“That’s all I need to know.”

He captured her lips, kissing her with wild passion, stealing the breath away from her lungs. Behind her, Shadow could feel her muscles relax further, allowing him to continue to impale himself on her. “Fuck,” he muttered once he was fully inside, eyes shut tight in disbelief, her muscles hugging his cock in a delicious tight grip. When his hand moved to stimulate her clit, Azriel stopped him, sending a new rush of shadows to cover his hand mimicking boxing glove. The Shadowsinger cursed, focusing in freeing himself. Meanwhile Azriel thrusted two fingers within, circling her clit with his thumb.

The Seer let out a deep moan, completely overwhelmed with Shadow moving in and out of her hole while Azriel pleased her in the other, gasping into Azriel lips who hadn’t stop kissing her. She pushed her hips back, silently urging Shadow to quicken the pace, and grabbed Azriel’s cock, stroking him.

“I want you.” She voiced licking her lips. “Both of you in-” she chocked, “inside me.”

Azriel stilled, and so did Shadow. Azriel’s relationship with Elain was relatively new, their bargain real and pulsing strong as any bond would, the possessiveness burning fresh between their tangled souls. It had crossed Shadow’s mind to ride his Seer as Azriel rode Elain, but he wouldn’t be the one to voice that. He waited, his master’s voice ringing in his head as he searched for confirmation with Elain.

She whined in confusing confusion feeling Shadow slide outside, gasping at the emptiness left behind. “Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay.”

“Get on top of him.” He ordered, completely turned on.

Struggling in her trembling legs, she mounted Azriel, who watched the two confident ringlets of brown appear near her irises. He kissed her, happily sliding back in her warming heat, barely holding back from slamming into her. The Seer felt Shadow’s swollen head seeking passage once more, and for a moment Elain squeaked, half-sarced, half-turned-on. The Seer held her hand. Together. She projected and they pushed back, crying softly as the head dipped inside. All four froze, not moving or breathing.

“Oh gods.” Elain sobbed lost in pleasure.

She couldn’t believe she was doing it.

She was fucking Azriel and his shadows.

She felt so naughty.

She moved.

Her back arched, Azriel moaned, Shadow thrusted forward.

The heavy moaning could be heard all over the top floor, the stones walls echoing their cries of passion as thin layer of sweat slide down her lower back, Shadow’s grip on her waist painfully strong, nails sinking in her smooth skin, yet he didn’t drag her, he let her move in her own pace. Her skin glowed violently as she pushed back, gasping at the sensation of both males inside, feeling stuffed and hot and horny.

Elain gripped Azriel’s upper arms as the Seer twerked back into Shadow, desire dripping between her thighs, creaming around Azriel’s cock, clenching her hole around Shadow’s, stealing deep moans from both of them. Someone slapped her ass, someone mashed her tits, someone pulled her hair, someone bit her nipple, and she went insane with lust, eyes closed mouth hanging open, pushing back and forth, loving every inch of her men inside of her.

Azriel gripped her face, kissing her hard. No more words were said, the four of them busy with keeping that perfect rhythm driving them crazy, no thoughts of self-loathing, or alliances, or prohibition coming to mind. Only the thrill of the fucking, the enormous physical connection, the blinding glow of her skin, the emotional bond being deepened, the links twirling on top of each other, growing and spreading like ivy amongst their souls, thicker and stronger than the feeble mating bond slumbering deep inside her –weakened day by day.

Elain whimpered and moaned nonsense into Azriel’s mouth, feeling higher and higher, the Seer keeping the rhythm steady, trying to hold onto one of Shadow’s hand around her waist. He held her firm, keeping her from buck off amid her high overdose of sexual frenzy, pulling her up to bite her shoulder, hard, drawing blood, needing everything from her, from her pleasure to the pulsing life inside her veins. He tongued her neck as she panted and writhed, founding release along with Azriel, crying and convulsing and trembling.

She fell on Azriel’s sweat chest, unable to stand upright for another second, his shadow-self still moving behind her, slamming into her beautiful behind, chasing his own release. His back arching when he found it, her spasms milking him dry.

Shadow fell on top of her, morphing his weight lower to avoid crushing her, completely spent. Once he recovered, pulled back slowing, delighting in the sight of his cum coming from her pretty pink swollen holes, using his finger to put some back inside, her sweet moan ringing like a bell in his mind as he laid beside her.

Elain cracked her neck to kiss him and turned back to Azriel, curling on his side, burring her nose on the crook of his neck, breathing his scent, night-chilled mist calming her racing pulse, deep rich cedar serenading her soul, a splash of jasmine and honey mingled with it. She wondered if she was starting to smell like him to.

They stayed like that, lost in each other’s embrace for what could be hours, of months, or years. Elain didn’t care how long had passed, all she needed was right there with her.

“Aren’t you going?” Azriel asked to his shadow-self, through the pleasant sound of breaths regulating.

“Me? Why? I’m very comfortable here,” he plopped on the pillow to prove. “Besides, Ellie likes me here.” He snuggled behind her, kissing her bruised shoulder, purple from his innumerous bites, nuzzling against her neck. “My seer likes me here too, she glowed so prettily, I want to make her come every day to watch that show.” Shadow started to kiss her on everywhere he could reach, making Elain giggle. She turned her head, eyes flashing white when she gently kissed him on the lips, receiving the second prettiest smile she had ever seen. Losing only to Azriel’s.

“Ellie, has no need for you. I’m here.” Azriel repeated the pet name with discomfort, unable to hide his jealousy.

“Oh, that means I can return when you go? Noted.”

“Don’t push it.”

"We should use toys next time," shadow-azriel muttered ignoring his master, making Azriel growl.

"We? Who's we? There's no we, there’s me and Elain. Stay the fuck out!"

"I like we." Elain muttered with her pacifying tone, eyes big and brown as a fawn’s coat, blinking in the way she knew it made it impossible for him to deny her. She kissed his chin. "I would like a we sometimes…"

Azriel undid her pout with his teeth, "Cheater."

"I learned from the best." Elain smiled winked at Shadow, who winked back, slapping her ass one last time before his form started to melt back into shadows, skating against her naked skin as a lazy kitten, spilling out of the bed and disappearing from sight, granted Azriel his hard-earned privacy.

******

Once I read a lovely HC about Elain going to the house of wind to make little cooking experiments since the house was amicable in providing her with eachever ingredient she needed. I don’t remember who wrote it, but i loved it, so Elain being in the house was inspired by it <3

Petunias: resentment and anger

White Tulip: forgiveness

The ring

(if you liked it, let me know 😏 don't be shy, you can talk to me, even your emojis will be loved and cherished 😍😚)

[densi-mber]

In the Bleak Midwinter, Part 2

“Kensi!” Deeks shouted as they crashed into the snowdrift. His head whipped forward and then back again on impact. His seatbelt forced all the air from his lungs, making him gasp and cough.

“Deeks, are you ok?” He felt Kensi’s hands on his back, and he straightened, dragging in a chilled breath.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he managed, coughing a couple more times. “What about you?” He looked her over for signs of injury. She seemed a little shaken, but more annoyed than anything.

“Fine.” Brushing a strand of hair out of her face with a flick of her hand, she reached for her seatbelt release. She struggled with it for a second before it unlatched.

From the inside, it didn’t look like the SUV had sustained any damage; the air bags hadn’t even deployed. An avalanche of snow covered the windshield and half of the front windows, blocking his view of the hood.

“I still don’t have a signal,” Kensi said, checking her phone. “Let’s see if we can dig ourselves out.” She struggled with her door. She yanked on the handle, kicking the door when it didn’t budge. After a few more kicks, it opened with a squeaking grind as it crunched over the snow.

“Ok, that’s not fantastic,” Deeks commented once they were both outside. The front third of the SUV was covered in snow, the nose disappearing completely inside the snowbank while all four wheels sat in deep trenches.

“It’s not that bad,” Kensi insisted. “We just need to dig out before the snow freezes.”

“Ok, I’ll got get the shovel from the back.” Blowing on his already chilled hands, Deeks cast the rapidly darkening sky a glance.

***

Twenty minutes later, Deeks was ready to admit defeat. They’d shoveled away as much snow as they could, tried pushing while the other reversed, but the tires just spun, growing more encrusted with impacted slush every revolution.

His hands were beginning to ache from the cold, and Kensi’s cheeks were a bright, painful-looking pink. It didn’t help that the wind picked up either.

Setting the shovel down, he settled his hands on his knees, panting slightly.

“Kens, we need to find some kind of shelter,” he said. Kensi, bless her, was still working at the snow, and looked like she might protest. “Kensi.”

“Ok. Your right.” She gave a reluctant nod, and wiped her glove across her forehead.

“Wow, we must be in bad shape if you’re agreeing with me.”

“Oh, you’re really making me want to change my mind,” she said, tucking her hands under her arms. She surveyed the open fields, which were barren of anything but animal tracks, dried brush and trees, and a few dilapidated barns. “I guess we better start walking.”

“Is it just me, or are the flakes getting bigger?” Deeks huffed out some time later, taking a moment to stare up at the blanket of white sky. They were making pretty good time despite having to trudge through the muck.

The cold was really setting in though; he could feel it in his toes and fingers beneath thick wool, the way his skin felt painfully tight in some places. He realized Kensi hadn’t responded, even with an annoyed sound, and studied her more closely.

She kept her head lowered, arms wrapped tightly around her torso. As he watched, she stumbled over a couple steps.

“Kens?”

“What Deeks?” she snapped back, clearly thinking he was gearing up for another joke.

“How are you doing? Really?” he asked. Her shoulders caved, and her pace slowed.

“It’s getting harder to move and my fingers and I can’t really feel my fingers much anymore.” Her admission made his stomach sink. Crouching down in front of her, he tugged her glove off and gently squeezed her fingers. Fortunately, the skin was still red, but he knew that could change quickly.

Grabbing the backpack of supplies from the SUV, removing a warming back. He tore the package open with his teeth, slipping it inside Kensi’s glove.

“Deeks, what if we need it later. It’s not that bad,” she protested.

“You have mild frostbite, Kensi. The longer we can keep you warm, the faster we can get to a shelter, and the less risk of permanent damage. You know that.” After that, she didn’t protest. Though she did roll her eyes when he pulled his scarf off and wrapped it around her lower face.

They continued on, the picking up pace. Every fresh gale sliced through him until he though he might break in half. Just when he was truly beginning to lose hope, he saw something tall looming in the near distance.

“Kens,” he croaked out gleefully. “Forest Drive. We made it.” Kensi just gave him a weak smile, letting him take her arm as they made the turn. She leaned into his side, tripping over her own feet.

Forest Drive looked like a long gravel bike path more than anything and at the end, sat a small house. It took another five minutes to get to the front door. Deeks rapped on the door a couple times, not anticipating any answer since it the place looked deserted.

When no one answered, he quickly picked the lock. Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult because his hands were shaking too hard for anything more complex. Ducking inside, he kept his hand close to his gun, quickly clearing the house which consisted of a combined kitchen and sitting areas with a single room and half bath.

“It’s clear,” he told Kensi, ushering her inside. Then she just stood inside the door, eyes drooping with cold and exhaustion. “What did Mrs. Marsh say Gabriel use this place for?” Deeks asked, mostly to keep her talking.

Meanwhile, he searched around for provisions. He found a good supply of blankets and food, along with signs that someone had visited recently. More importantly, they needed heat. There was a large fireplace and logs, but he didn’t see a thermostat around.

“Uh, hunting. He used to come here in the winter to hunt deer,” she answered. Her teeth chattered so hard, she could barely get the words out.

He walked back in the sitting area after quickly perusing each room.

“Well, the good news is there’s enough food and water for a few days. In less good news, it doesn’t seem like previous owners upgraded to gas, so we’re stuck Little Housing it.”

Kensi gave him a weak smile, working to pull off her soaked gloves. Rather than watch her, Deeks started grabbing handfuls of kindling from a bin by the fireplace.

“Just give me a minute, and I can help with that.” Her breath fogged out in front of her, visible even in the dim early evening light. Being inside without any heat wasn’t all that much better.

“I’ve got, Kens. You just get anything wet off,” he insisted.

“Since when do you,” she shivered violently, then continued on as if nothing happened. “self-confirmed city boy, ever make a fire?” she asked.

“I may not have been raised as a mini-MacGyver, but I learned the basics. You don’t go camping without knowing how to create a heat source.”

Kensi seemed to accept him at his word, or maybe she was just too tired to keep arguing. Either way, she didn’t interrupt again as he built a dense bed of kindling with bits of newspaper interspersed throughout, layering several logs on top. Fortunately, they’d brought with a lighter, because he wasn’t sure he could pull off the whole rubbing sticks together thing.

Once he had a nice little fire flickering away, he turned back to Kensi. To his dismay, she was still struggling with her coat, fingers fumbling over the buttons. He took a closer look, not liking what he saw. She’d pushed her hood back, revealing her bloodless skin and unfocused gaze.

“Hey, let me get that,” he offered, not waiting for a response start popping open the buttons. His fingers were still a little stiff, but not nearly as bad as Kensi’s. In half a minute, he was helping Kensi shrug out of the coat.

He nudged her onto the sole chair in the room, dropping to his knees so he could get at her boots. Looking down at him, Kensi gave him a sleepy, grateful smile.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“Anytime, partner.” He gently squeezed her feet, and she yelped, tugging free. Well, pain sensation was a good sign.

“I would kill for a hot chocolate,” she mumbled.

“I only saw water and tea around, but I have another suggestion I don’t think you’ll like very much.”

Kensi lifted her head, eyes turning suspicious despite her exhaustion . What?”

“We’re going to have to cuddle,” he told her seriously.

***

A/N: My apologies for not getting around to the actual cuddling. I hope the cold whump made up for it.

My reasoning for why Kensi and Deeks didn’t stay behind in the SUV with the heater running is because the battery might give out before someone finds them and then they’d be really stuck.

[collecting-stories]

jj maybank x reader beach day?

I feel like this is a little angsty…idk what’s the matter with me tonight lol. I really intended to write something fluffy.

-

“You know they have a giant sign right over there JJ,” Kiara hisses, pointing out the placard at the edge of the sand, warning against the consumption of alcohol on the beach. JJ, sucking a fruit punch and vodka slushie out of a pouch, looks back at the sign, not even slightly bothered.

It wasn’t close to dark out, sun slight high in the sky, but JJ was 3/4 of the way to being completely drunk off his ass. He was loud and you knew that you should jump in and help Kiara, at least slow him down a little, but you’d come to the beach to have a nice day and not supervise JJ’s behaviour. If Kiara wanted to sit with him all day, that was fine with you.

Maybe that was harsh…you liked JJ, maybe too much for your own good, but you felt like every time the two of you hung out he was like this. Like a kid in elementary school trying to get everybody to pay attention to him and laugh and sometimes you did but sometimes you just wanted him to be himself. Not this stupid, carefree, version he put out there but his actual self.

“Who’s gonna know Kie?” He shrugged. “Not like I’m advertising or something.”

“Will you tell him, if we get kicked off this beach-“

You quickly shook your head, taking a sip from your water bottle and chewing noisily on the ice cube that escaped into your mouth, “sorry no can do, I’m trying to relax Kie, not babysit,” you reply. “I have the day off.”

Pope laughed from the other side of JJ, shaking his head at the three of you. He wanted to say that this was exactly why he hadn’t extended the beach day invitation to everyone. Though he should’ve known that the second JJ got wind of you doing anything he was bound to be there to. And then suddenly Kiara was tagging along too and now the whole thing felt like a headache.

“We’re gonna get in trouble.” Kiara replied, hands on her hips as she surveyed the beach as if someone was really about to come along and sniff out JJ’s alcoholic slushie.

JJ looked up at her for a moment, the first time since they’d gotten to the beach. She had rolled up to the Chateau early in the morning to hang out with ‘just him’ and found him halfway out the door with his board, explaining that Pope had invited you to the beach and he was going too and now here she was fourth wheeling what was obviously just JJ’s attempt to monopolise your attention.

“You can’t surf like that JJ,” Kiara tried again. She knew she was being kind of annoying but she also knew that JJ was working on his third slushie and she was genuinely concerned at this point.

“Okay,” Pope stood up, wiping his hands on his swim trunks and looking over at you through his sunglasses. “You wanna go jump waves or something?”

“I’ll do literally anything but this,” you laughed, “sorry Kie, you’re on your own here.”

JJ looked like he was about to get up but you turned and headed down the beach before he could say anything. Pope lingered for a second longer, looking down at his best friend with mild annoyance, “you know this getting drunk and acting like an asshole shit isn’t gonna get they’re attention right?”

“I-“ JJ started to respond but just like you had, Pope turned and left. “That’s not what I’m doing,” he finally said as Kie took your spot beside him.

She scoffed, “yeah.”

[thetargaryenbride]

You Are Worth It [Levi x Reader]

Summary: You were ready to do anything for this man and if that meant defending him from your own comrades, then so be it.

Set before and during the No Regrets OVA

This is for @vennilavee  ‘s Writing Challange. I had fun writing~ 

This scenario is actually a part of my OC’s story BUT I decided to change it up a bit here and there and make it into a Levi x Reader instead. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7646

Warnings: Violence, Vulgarity, Profanity, some gore, some harassment

Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡ 

❅

The Underground.

It was a foul place – lawless – full of thugs, drunkards and creeps. Unfortunately, it was also the home of women who most of the time had no other choice but to sell themselves, it was the home of sick people who only wished to glimpse the sun, and it was the home of malnourished orphans who died like flies in the dirty streets. And nobody was doing anything to help those in need.

Nobody but you.

You remembered the first time you set foot in the Underground. You were just but a little girl, holding tightly your step-mother’s hand as she made her way through the muddy streets, not caring whether her dress would get dirtied. You smiled fondly at the memory. Your step-mother’s friend had lost the rights to her citizenship and was hurdled into the clutches of the Kingdom of Shadows, being forced to work as a prostitute. But the two women kept being friends and your step-mother frequently visited to bring her food. You went only once but it was more than enough to break the pretty picture you’ve imagined – of a place safely tucked below the Inner Walls, with glowing crystals and beautifully shaped stalagmites. It was a hellhole.

You still thought of yourself as a little, naïve girl. You blamed your parents’ coddling. You were supposed to be more aware of the real world as a teen and almost young adult. You wanted to know the truth and the horrors that accompanied each day. That was one of the reasons you also wanted to join the Survey Corps. But you had promised to yourself that you’d join after you face the hell that is the Underground and after you offer some help to those who need it. After all, how could you fight and protect people from the Titans, if you couldn’t even protect them from fellow humans?

“Listen now, little lady, I know that you wanna do some charity shit down here but we also have work to do instead of escorting you. Just because your father is the Deputy Commander-,” grumbled the Military Police soldier from behind you but you didn’t pay him any attention. Instead, your ears strained to hear another sound – a child crying. You hushed the soldier and before he had the chance to give you some scathing remark, you walked away from him and towards the sound. The alleys were too narrow and the repugnant smell of piss and alcohol was heavy in the air but you tried your best to ignore it and kept walking. Turning right, then left, you came to a dead end. And there it was – the child – crouching on the ground with his knees pressed to his chest and little hands rubbing at his eyes.

You approached slowly and knelt down, your gown puddling all around you, the light blue fabric immediately getting mudded and dirtied.

“It’s all right. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you. I got some food too,” you spoke gently as to not startle him as your hand took out an apple from your bag and handed it to the child. He looked at you with big eyes and you offered an encouraging smile. That smile fell off your face the second you heard the clicking of a gun right behind your head. It pressed against you roughly, almost ruining your perfect bun. The child simply stood up and ran away.

“Now, don’t move, pretty thing. We don’t want to accidentally blast your head, do we?” came in a man’s gravelly voice, sending shivers down your spine. You dared not move as you felt him getting closer, his breath tickling your neck. “Ya better get those money ready, lass," he hissed out and you willed your body to stop shaking. It was impossible. Were you going to go out like this? Murdered by some thugs? Were you going to rot in this very same alley? Before you got the chance to see the outside world?

There was a swooshing sound. You closed your eyes, anticipating the worst, but then strangled grunts and coughing was heard, making you snap your head in the direction of the sound. Your eyes widened as you saw the two men fall dead on the ground, clothes soaking with the crimson blood that leaked from their throats, some managing to drop onto your cheek. Your eyes focused on a third man who was cleaning his knife. He didn’t pay you attention as he pocketed it and turned his back on you, ready to walk away.

“W-wait!” you called out and he halted. Let me at least see your face. Let me at least learn your name. “You saved me… I-“ you stuttered out but he interrupted you roughly, turning around to look you in the eyes. He was the most handsome man you’ve laid eyes on. The pampered, powdered noble boys couldn’t hold a candle to his rugged looks and the aura he was giving off. He had raven hair, locks falling around his eyes, pale skin and sharp eyes the color of a stormy sky. His clothes were a little bit baggy but even like this you could tell his body was built nicely so you assumed that he was a thug as well. Speaking of clothes, his were way too clean and pristine for someone living in such a filthy place.

“Don’t waste your breath. Go back upstairs to your gold and fine porcelain. You don’t belong here,” he spat out and your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly stood up, coming face to face with him.

“I’m sorry but you can’t say where I do or do not belong to. Maybe I don’t really fancy the world you speak of,” you told him firmly and his gaze lingered on your for awhile.

“You’re a lunatic then,” were his last words before he walked away.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You didn’t listen to the man. One bad experience and some rude words weren’t enough to convince you otherwise. In fact, that made you more stubborn and you soon found your way in the Underground once again. This time you carried a knife. Your grandfather had taught you how to throw them and you regretted not bringing one last time.

The day passed by in a blur. The heavy bag full of bread and left-over pastries from your family’s bakery was now empty and you were ready to head back home and take a long bath. But you stopped when you heard a commotion. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to risk getting caught up in something again. But your heart was beating faster and your body felt warmer the closer the sound got and you supposed that there was some supernatural force that was pulling you towards it. Soon enough, you found yourself in the midst of a brutal brawl. The same guy who saved you a few days ago was being ganged up on. He was surprisingly holding his ground, sending lethal punches and kicks his enemies’ way. But you should’ve known they would fight dirty as one of the members sneaked behind the guy and prepared to shoot him in the back.

Your body moved before you even ordered it to, hand grabbing the knife hidden in the pocket of your dress and throwing it. It embedded into the head of the thug and he fell. Everything stopped for awhile. You could see the two members of the group looking at you with both shock and rage. You could see the surprised expression on the guy’s face, his arm up in mid-punch. Then there was a bang and you felt a searing pain in your middle region. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw was the guy who saved you pummel the remaining members of the gang to death and scream something at you.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

When your eyes fluttered open, they saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Your first instinct was to stand up and run but your body was too tired and the only thing you managed to do was shift and move your head.

“Finally awake?” came in a voice and you gasped as you saw the same guy. Had he saved you? What exactly happened in the first place? You wanted to ask him multiple questions but the one you settled on was:

“Are you all right?”

He shot you an incredulous look.

“You were the one who got shot, dumbass. Worry about yourself,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows and you let out a weak chuckle.

“You are right… You know, we’ve saved each other’s lives so many times already and yet I do not know your name.”

“It’s Levi,” he answered your silent question and you smiled as bright as you could.

“Nice to meet you, Levi! My name is Y/N! Y/F/N!”

His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at you, a spark of what seemed to be recognition, relief and even fondness could be seen deep within. He uncrossed his arms and walked out of the room. You counted the minutes awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers or clenching and unclenching the sheets, before you finally decided to sit up. It was a struggle. The bullet had got you in the upper stomach but apparently he had nursed you back to health. You noticed that your torso was neatly covered in clean bandages as the blankets slid down a bit, making you shiver at the bareness of your arms. You blushed at the thought of him seeing you like this but nothing could be done. And you didn’t care that much about dignity and nudity when it came down to saving lives – others’ or your own.

Your thoughts were interrupted when he walked in the room, carrying a plate with peeled and sliced apples. For a moment, he stood by the doorframe simply watching you, before he made his way towards you and sat on the corner of the bed, placing the plate on your lap and outstretching his other hand. Your eyes fell on what he was holding and you gasped as memories from years ago flooded you.  

The day when you had been so curious you had begged your step-mother to take you with her. She had agreed and you had made your way to the Underground. You had stuck close to her as she walked into what you now knew was a brothel.

❅ 

“Carol! It’s so good to see you!” exclaimed your step-mom and the other woman chuckled as she gave her a hug.

“You didn’t have to bring so much food again. I’m so grateful to have you.”

You smiled as you watched the two women converse but your attention was stolen by a figure in your periphery vision, making you completely turn around. It was a boy. He didn’t seem to be much older than you. He was wearing a ragged shirt that reached his knees and some worn out pants but his hair looked clean and neatly cut. He watched you shyly, interest sparkling in his eyes as he took in your appearance. He had probably never seen a noble in such a place. You smiled and waved at him and he mirrored you after his hesitation worn off. You took a few steps forward and smiled brightly at him.

“Hi, there! What is your name?”

“Levi,” he uttered and you put your hands on your hips. You probably looked ridiculous – a child with lots of baby fat, trying to look and give off a motherly aura.

“You are very thin, Levi. That just can’t do!” you exclaimed in disapproval as you reached into the bag of food your step-mom had brought, taking out a few apples and placing them in your white apron. You neared the boy and beckoned him to take them. “Here, take these! Dad always says that an apple a day keeps the doctor away!” you grinned.

He gulped and his hands trembled a bit when he took the fruits from you, eyes gazing into your own with such gratitude and respect. And because you were so focused on his features, you noticed some smudged dirt on his left cheek. You clicked your tongue as you grabbed a handkerchief from your pocket and proceeded to wipe his face since his arms were busy balancing the apples from falling out of his grip.

“You got some dirt here. It’s very important to stay clean, you know,” you told him gently and he nodded.

“My mother says the same,” he whispered and you smiled as you tucked your handkerchief in his pocket.

“Then you keep this and make sure to stay clean,” you smiled at him before your step-mom called you and you had to bid him goodbye.

“Wait!” he called out and you looked at him over your shoulder. “What’s your name?” he asked timidly and you grinned at him again.

“Y/N! Y/F/N! It was nice meeting you, Levi! I hope we can meet again!”

❅

But you never met him again. When next time your step-mom had returned from her visit and you had asked about the boy, she said he was nowhere to be found but there was a rumor that one of the women working there had passed away and her child had disappeared.

“We meet again,” you sent him a watery smile as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. You didn’t know why, they just did. You never pegged yourself as an overly emotional person but life was a mysterious companion.

“Yeah,” drawled the man quietly and for the first time since you’ve met, that permanent frown was replaced by a small, soft smile.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Since that fateful meeting, your visits to the Underground became more frequent. You didn’t only want to do charity but you wanted to visit Levi. He told you to not come back. That it was dangerous. But you didn’t listen. You wore simpler dresses – not the big, intricate gowns. You tied your hair in a simple ponytail or bun – not the stylish hairstyles screaming that their bearer was a noblewoman. You usually never wore jewelry with the exception of the earrings your step-mother had gifted you, but you took them off during your visits, trying to blend in the best way possible. Of course, you were a woman, therefore it was only natural to attract creeps. But you managed to deal with them. You just wanted to help children and see Levi. Was it that much to ask?

“Eeh! There is a body of water this huge? And full of salt!? I cannot believe it!” exclaimed Farlan.

“It’s true! It’s written in a book that’s been banned by the government! Why do you think they banned it if it wasn’t true!?” you shot back.

“So, you mean to tell us that there are also fields of sand and multicolored lights in the sky in North?”asked Levi while he was focusing on polishing his knife.

“I know it may sound too incredible to believe but I know it’s the truth! I just know it! And I’ll go beyond the walls and see it for myself!” you grinned enthusiastically and Levi’s eyes moved from the knife and onto your form, one eyebrow raised in both question and challenge.

“Hooh? And how are you going to do that? By going on lavishing balls in Mitras?”

“By joining the Survey Corps!” you declared and the silence became so heavy that you could cut it with a dull knife. And suddenly, all hell broke loose.

“What?! Are you insane!? You actually want to join them and go fight titans?!” shouted Farlan as he stood up from his chair and you mirrored him, crossing your arms.

“I’d pick the titans ten times over the political wars we’re waging in the capital and all the hypocrisy and backstabbing!”

“You’re gonna get eaten! Do you really want to face such a death?!”

Their shouting match was interrupted by Levi’s almost frighteningly low tone, making them sweat and gulp.

“Oi, brat... Tell me you’re not serious… Tell me you’re just…in a phase or something,” he said as he put the knife on the table, his attention now fully on you. You sighed as you slowly sat back down on the sofa, a sad smile gracing your features as you looked at the two men. You contemplated but in the end you decided that you had to tell them.

“I’ve been serious ever since I saw my mother get eaten years ago,” you confessed and their eyes widened.

“What?” stuttered out Farlan as he slumped back down on the chair.

“I haven’t told you, have I? I was…five when mom…snapped, for a lack of better word… She told me that she wanted to see the outside world and I… I was so excited!” you gripped the fabric of your dress so tight that your knuckles turned white. “We sneaked outside the walls and… I was saved just on time by a Survey Corps soldier… My mom on the other hand,” you uttered, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. “Shiganshina will always be my hometown. I can’t stay in Mitras. I can’t! My place is not inside the walls.”

“I thought you were… noble,” murmured Farlan and you chuckled.

“That’s half the truth. My father IS the Deputy Commander of the Military Police. Even before that, he was rich and powerful, coming from a family full of soldiers and nobles. The most respected family… One day he met my mom in Shiganshina. He was already married at the time but… One thing led to another and…here I stand,” you explained. “He would send money but I never saw him until…that day,” you gulped but the pain and bad memories were replaced by determination and bravery.

“I’ll join the Survey Corps. I’ll see the outside world. And I swear to you, once I am capable, I’ll get you two citizenship. I won’t let you rot in here,” you stated firmly and the men could only stare at you with both concern and fondness.  

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

In the end, you did exactly what you wanted. You joined the Survey Corps after graduating top of your class. At first you were placed in Ness’ squad but after your first expedition and after you showed incredible skills and potential, you were moved to Erwin’s squad. You proved how great of a strategist you were and you showed them your political skills when it came to dealing with the Royal Assembly. That gained you lots of respect from the higher ups within the Survey Corps. You also built a name for yourself as Humanity’s fastest because all fellow soldiers who’ve seen you fight, including veterans, have said that there was no one faster. You didn’t brag though.  

Now, a year later, you were a squad leader yourself and there were rumors that you would be promoted to Captain. You smiled at the thought. You pushed your body and mentality way over the limits to prove yourself worthy as fast and as efficient as possible in order to gain a title – to gain power – because thanks to that it would be easier to save them.

Just hang on for a bit more, Farlan, Levi. I’ll soon be able to get you out of that hole.

Flagon’s fist hit the table as he growled in irritation, interrupting your thought process.

“Quite frankly, this is humiliating!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” nodded another Section Commander by the name of Deckan Caddel. His demeanor seemed calm but his eyes were glinting with a murderous intent. You never liked him. Sure, he was great soldier. But he joined purely out of revenge and bloodlust – because his father was eaten. He didn’t care about protecting Humanity. In fact, he always had such disregard for people, especially those who weren’t from Wall Sina like himself.

“Are you honestly telling us, who have always held formality in high regard, to accept a bunch of criminals?”

You had half a mind to tell him to chill the fuck out but you bit your tongue. Flagon was a good guy beneath his prejudices.

After discussing the newly recruited members and the formation that Erwin suggested, the meeting was over and everyone left. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Deckan ogling you before he walked off. You narrowed your eyes but brushed it off as you made your way to the private quarters aligned with your office and prepared for bed. Tomorrow morning the said criminals would be introduced to the others and it will be decided in which squad they would be put on.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You were…shocked. The criminals everyone were talking about were none other than Levi and Farlan accompanied by a younger girl. Your mind didn’t even comprehend Commander Shadis’ words or the trio’s introduction. You were too busy staring at them, still unable to process that they were here, donning the noble uniform of the Survey Corps. You gulped down the tears threatening to spill and patiently waited for the introduction to be over. While Flagon was busy with subtly expressing his disdain of the three being placed on his squad and sending sharp glances Erwin’s way, you finally managed to gather the strength to come closer and into their line of sight.

The moment Levi’s eyes clashed with yours, you felt like crying and running to embrace him. Your heart started beating faster and your body warmed up after feeling so cold for literal ages. You didn’t know how this man; why this man; had such an effect on you…but you loved it.

His eyes widened and he subtly elbowed Farlan whose attention shifted to where he was looking at. He wasn’t as subtle as Levi though and his reaction was quite open as he pretty much gawked at you. Both men’s eyes shone brightly with fondness and relief.

Even when everyone were dismissed and allowed to go back to their own business, you didn’t. You quietly followed after Flagon as he walked the new recruits to the barracks.

“You two men will sleep here,” you could hear Flagon instructing them from your place in the hallway. “You lot have been living in the dumps of the Underground but do try to keep this place clean,” your eyes widened comically and you almost choked on thin air. Just as you supposed, Levi’s outraged “huh?” followed right away and he neared Flagon threateningly, breaking his personal bubble.

“W-what’s with that look?” stuttered out the man and you decided to intervene before it had gotten out of control.

“Now, now, Flagon, you used to sleep in those barracks too. But you’ve probably forgotten that they always have been dirty,” came in your voice, making everyone’s heads snap to your direction. Farlan’s lips twitched in a smile but Levi’s face was composed. Flagon clicked his tongue.

“And what are you doing here, Y/L/N?” he asked with a sigh and you shrugged, fully entering the room.

“I just came here to make sure you don’t start a fire or something,” you shot back teasingly and he rolled his eyes before turning his back on everyone.

“I’ll leave you to it. And next time don’t try to approach a commanding officer with such attitude. Maybe Y/N will be able to teach you some manners,” snapped Flagon and Farlan tried to salute respectfully.

“Yes, sir!”

“Your hand’s upside-down! You begin training early tomorrow! I expect you to be punctual!”

The moment Flagon was out of sight and earshot you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself at the two men, hugging them tightly. Farlan was quick to return the embrace but Levi froze for awhile, hesitating, before he awkwardly patted your head as you sobbed.

“It’s you! I can’t believe it!” you pulled away and took a good look at them. “You seem healthy. I’m so happy to see you! I still can’t believe that it’s you who Erwin recruited. He must have seen incredible potential! We have so much to talk about-“ your rambling was interrupted by a coughing, making you face the redheaded girl.

“I think we haven’t officially met! My name’s Isabel Magnolia! Nice to meetcha!” grinned the girl and you smiled at her, shaking her hand.

“My name is Y/F/N. It’s pleasure meeting you! You are probably confused as to how we know one another but I’ll tell you everything!” you hooked your arm around hers and tugged her towards the door. “I’ll show you to the girls’ barracks and,” your gaze flickered to the boys, finding Levi’s and holding his for awhile. “I hope I’ll see you two shortly.”

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You had talked to Isabel until the late hours, telling her about your background, about how you met Levi and Farlan, about your life in the Training Corps and then as a soldier in the Survey Corps. There was so much to talk about and you really wanted to make friends with her since she seemed to be someone very important to Levi and Farlan.

The next day had rolled fast and before you knew it, everyone were up and about – training. The three newbies were to be evaluated today – their skills tested.  

Levi was walking amongst the horses, mind wandering off to the mission at hand. If he wanted it to be successful, he had to play by the Survey Corps rules and one of them was to learn how to ride. Isabel had no problem with it. She seemed to be natural. Then again she has always been an animal lover so he wasn’t surprised at how fast she grasped horse riding. Farlan had some troubles with the horse he had chosen, the mare too feisty for him to handle. And Levi? Well, he still hasn’t chosen one.

“I think she likes you,” came in your gentle tone and he sighed, grateful for the momentary distraction. You came to stand beside him and before he could ask, you pointed ahead, making him focus his vision onto the beautiful black mare that was intently staring at him.

“You know, it’s not only you choosing the horse. The horse has to choose you too,” you told him as you both approached the mare and Levi slowly outstretched his hand, allowing the animal to sniff him before licking it. He smiled when she nudged his hand, beckoning him to caress her.

“Her name is Danika. I raised her,” you smiled and he lifted his eyebrows. “And this is Astaroth. My partner,” you grinned as you pointed to the horse right next to Danika. He was the biggest horse Levi has seen amongst all Survey Corps horses and the only one with such unique coloration.

“He seems a bit…different than the rest,” he mused and you hummed in agreement.

“They had found him outside the walls a bit before I joined. When I tell you he was wild, I mean it. They hadn’t been able to tame him never mind how many times they tried. Then I came and tried. My way. And it worked. He became my partner since then. He’s the strongest and fastest horse in the SC history. Trust me, it’s not easy riding him into battle sometimes but I’ve grown used to it,” you explained and he huffed.

“It’s not only about growing used to it. You yourself are probably a great rider. A natural,” he commented and you shrugged.

“Maybe…Say, do you want to ride together?” you asked and he nodded.

“Sure.”

That’s how you found yourselves riding the horses deep into the forest and away from all the ruckus in the training grounds. You wanted Levi to truly feel and experience the riding and bond with his horse which took some time instead of immediately jumping onto the animal and rushing it into gallop like what most did. And while the silence was comforting, you decided to break it.

“One of the perks about being a part of the Survey Corps is that you get to live surrounded by nature. Just look at it. Look how beautiful and peaceful it is. Fields upon fields and forests upon forest. So much greenery and beauty,” you sighed dreamily and Levi hummed in agreement.

“It’s not bad.”

“At the same time if you get tired of the peace and quiet, you can just roam the halls of the castle or the training grounds and sink into the pleasant noise of soldiers chattering, laughing, eating and training together,” you smiled as you looked at the man. The green shadows the trees cast upon him and the flickering-through-the-trees light bathing him made him look so beautiful, so relaxed…so gentle. Then your thoughts wandered off to a place deeper and darker.

“I still can’t believe that you’re here. That you chose to join the Survey Corps… I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think you guys are ready to be soldiers. Not yet. You need so much training and the expedition is too soon and,” you realized you were rambling so you took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I just…I just feel like Erwin’s offer and your decision will bring some catastrophic consequences. I trust my intuition. It has never failed me.”

“A bit too late for that now,” huffed the man and you bit your lip.

“Why didn’t you wait a bit more for me? I’m sure you calculated almost three years in the Training Corps and then one or so more until I get a higher rank-“

“I thought you were dead,” he interrupted you with a soft, heavy tone that surprised you.

“Eh?”

“There were a few times when I would overhear the MP soldiers talking. They spoke of failed expeditions and death. They mentioned you too. Humanity’s Fastest, huh?” he shot you a wry smile and you blushed but held his gaze as he kept talking, the smile turning into frown. “Not long after, I heard them talking about a particularly nasty expedition that resulted in lots of death. That even you weren’t fast enough to escape.”

“Oh, Levi…It’s…It’s my fault for not finding a way to contact you. Trusting someone blindly and waiting for years is just…not possible or rational,” you looked away and squeezed your eyes, your grip on the reins tightening. Levi shook his head.

“I don’t blame you. It’s not like you could’ve come visit personally or sent letters. So you don’t blame yourself either, brat.”

The following weeks were a pure bliss. You spent all your free time with Levi, Farlan and Isabel, filling them in on everything that had happened throughout the years and helping them adjust to the world above.

But dread came. It came too soon for your liking – in the form of the 23rd Expedition.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Your squad was mostly responsible for support and defense. Whenever someone shot a black or a purple signal, your squad was to go and assist the squad that had shot the flare.

That’s how you had clashed with Flagon’s squad and you had to combine your strength in order to kill the horde of titans that had appeared suddenly. It was overbearing and a member of your squad was nearly eaten by an abnormal. It was an aggressive abnormal, like nothing you’ve encountered before. Despite the warnings of your squadmates, you had jumped into action, slicing off its hand and entering its mouth in order to grab the girl’s ankle and haul her out. The tongue had been so slippery from the leaking saliva that you had slipped and half of your body had fallen into its mouth. When your arm ceased holding its mouth at bay, it clamped down – not hard enough to snap you in half but hard enough to cut into your meat. Levi had been the one to save you, slashing at the titan and then catching you as you fell once the monster had released you.

Now he was standing awkwardly to the side, fists gripping tightly the handles of the swords, yet shaking, as you were sitting on the ground, back leaning against your horse who had crouched down to serve as your pillar, with the female soldier you had saved wailing and fumbling with the bandages.

“Calm down, dear, it’s not that deep. I just need you to tie the bandages very hard, ok? Like you’re tying a corset,” you encouraged her weakly but her hands seemed to shake even more. Levi tsked as he grabbed them from her hands and shooed her away silently. He grabbed your arm and carefully helped you up, turning you so your back was facing him.

❅

“Wow, Levi, you sure know how to treat gunshot wounds,” you commented as you observed the way he had nursed your injury. It had been a few days since the incident and you were already able to move. The man shrugged.

“Used to it.”

“I have to return home. My family must be worried,” you muttered as you looked apologetically at him. “Do you think you can help me put on my dress? The corset is a pain and it still hurts when I stretch.”

“Tch, come here.”

“Ouch! That’s too tight!”

“Just bear with it.”

❅

He pulled sharply at the bandages, the sound of fabric rubbing harshly against fabric and skin almost sickening as well as the way your waist and belly seemed to become flatter and flatter due to the force and how tight he was tying the bandages around your abdomen. You kept silent. The only thing you allowed were small grunts of discomfort slipping through your lips.

“O-oi, isn’t that too much?” snapped Flagon but you shook your head.

“It’s better than bleeding out. Besides, I need to go to Erwin and the Commander,” you grunted and Flagon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Elaborate.”

“I don’t like this weather. I have a bad feeling about it. It wouldn’t be wise to keep fighting if it starts pouring. It wouldn’t be a problem for the titans but it will be a major hindrance if we cannot see clearly. I’ll go to the center and talk to the Commander,” you explained while Levi finally finished with bandaging you. Your eyes locked and you exchanged gratitude silently. His gaze stayed longer on your form, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern before he got onto his horse.

“You do have a point. The weather will be very problematic but on the other hand, we cannot cut the expedition so soon. We just left the walls,” reasoned Flagon and you sighed as you climbed on Astaroth. When he felt you on top of him he finally rose to his legs.  

“We can go back and wait until the weather is better, then continue. We are not going to lose anything if we just wait for a bit in Shiganshina.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think that the Royal Assembly will be understanding regarding this matter. They are already up our asses, threatening to defund us at every turn. This will be a good opportunity for them to spit on us yet again,” he growled and you sighed. He had a point, but still…

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Royal Assembly. I can deal with them. But I won’t risk the lives of my soldiers and comrades,” you declared firmly and your squad smiled as they looked at you with love and admiration. You were a great leader and you were already thinking and behaving like a Captain. That’s why you were so deserving of this title.

“Let’s go,” you commanded and everyone turned their horses, ready to gallop towards the center.

“Y/N,” Flagon’s voice halted you and you half turned to face him. He had a solemn look on his face. “You can’t save everyone.”

“I can try.”

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Flagon had been right. So right about you not being able to save everyone. You realized that as you stared at Farlan’s body – bitten in half and lying in the mud with his intestines hanging. Or Isabel’s head at Levi’s feet. Flagon and his squad’s bodies were distorted and strewn throughout the field alongside their horses. It was a nightmarish sight to see. Even more so than usual. Who would have known that there would be more aggressive abnormals? You wanted to throw up right here and now but you were too focused on Levi. Levi whose raw, pain-filled, raging screams you had heard just a few minutes ago. Levi who was trying his hardest not to cry, yet his tears were still there mixed with the remnants of the rain droplets. Levi who screamed at Erwin, confessing that his true goal was to kill him before falling to his knees, seemingly giving up on life.

After Erwin spoke to him and left alongside his squad, Levi didn’t move from his position, eyes hidden behind his bangs, but you still knew that they were focused on Isabel’s head, probably flickering onto Farlan. Your squad members looked at you worriedly. You were too still and unresponding. They weren’t used to seeing you like this.

You gulped as you took a few hesitant steps forward, kneeling in the mud beside the broken man. The same man who you now, after this gruesome expedition that almost cost you your life, finally came to realize you held feelings for – feelings stronger than what someone would hold for a friend.

You gently took his bloodied hand and his eyes snapped to you when he finally lifted his head.

“Let’s go home,” you whispered as you sent him a small smile and he lowered his head again. Despite all, he allowed you to hold his hand and help him stand up and lead him to his horse.

The journey back to the walls was silent. Levi was to ride with your squad. You wanted to watch over him. You were at a total loss. You didn’t know what to expect from him. Therefore you didn’t know what would be the best way to comfort him. One thing was for sure. You had to be ready for him acting like a cold dick and trying to push you away. You supposed that with personality like his, that behavior was to be expected.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

And you had been completely wrong. He didn’t do anything like that. He didn’t push you away. He wasn’t cold. In fact, it was the total opposite. He accepted your comfort. He accepted your affection, albeit hesitantly. He allowed you to be near him and make him company. You didn’t talk much. Just being near one another was enough.

He thought that you were the only person he had left now. Like hell was he going to push you away. He wanted to be strong and go through this alone. He didn’t want to burden you with his pain. He knew you were suffering too. Yet deep down he bitterly admitted that he needed you to be there for him. He needed you to hold him. He needed your reassuring words and your company that soothed the aching throb in his soul.

❅ 

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Levi?” you asked him one night as the two of you were seated on the rooftop, staring into the skies.

“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.

“I do. I believe that this body is just a shell and when it crumbles, our soul leaves and finds another one, either on this world or on another. Just look at the sky! It’s so huge! And I’m sure that there is more behind it, the further you go. Worlds upon worlds,” you smiled breathlessly and he raised his eyebrows, looking at the stars intently, as if trying to see beyond them the worlds you were speaking of. “I like to believe that all my friends who die get reincarnated into a world beautiful and free of titans and get to live normal and happy lives. That’s why I think that there is a certain beauty and relief to death, even if it hurts so much.”

“It doesn’t sound half bad,” he breathed out and you gave him one of those warm smiles that poured light into his heart. The type of smiles that almost had him smile back.

❅

He was probably exaggerating but from now on, you truly were…

His everything.

He didn’t care about anyone else. Why should he? It’s not like they cared either. In fact, they kept calling him a criminal. They kept being rude and condescending, mocking him at every turn. Hange, Erwing and Mike were the only exceptions so far, willing to befriend him and actually putting an effort in doing so. And you of course. The rest of the higher ups kept quiet so he didn’t know how they felt about him. But out of all, there WAS one bastard that just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He always went overboard with his insults and disrespect that even some of the cadets who used to hate Levi thought it was barbaric and had a change of heart regarding the matters.

Yeah. His name?

Deckan Caddel.

But you? You were brilliant. Every time Deckan would insult Levi openly, you would jump in his defense and insult the bastard just as fiercely which would make him glare dangerously at you before storming out. Levi always berated you.

“Tch, I don’t want you getting in trouble, dumbass. It’s not worth it.”

But to you it was more than worth it. So you fought. You fought for Levi.

And everything was good until one night, after waking up from a particularly nasty nightmare, you had rushed out of the comforts of your personal quarters and down the hallways. You wanted to go all the way to the male barracks and seek Levi’s comfort but a figure had halted your journey, making you stumble and almost fall down the stairs if a large hand hadn’t grabbed your arm roughly, shoving you against the stone wall.

“And just where is the little slut going?” taunted Deckan and you wriggled, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Let me go!”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Just who do you think you are, huh, little girl?” his voice sent shivers down your spine as his hands held your wrists so tight you swore you heard the bone crack. “I don’t care whether that sewer rat is your lover or your fuck buddy. You aren’t a Captain yet. So if you continue to oppose me and publically humiliate me just to defend him… I’ll make sure to break the life out of you, you hear me?” he growled as his knee slammed into your abdomen, causing you to groan in pain and cough out bits of blood. Said knee then slid down and came to rest between your legs, pressing onto your crotch and making your eyes widen in panic as your struggling became more fierce. “I’ll break you in every single way,” he drawled and his other hand went to grab your chin, squeezing it tightly. “And then I’ll make sure to suspend you from the Survey Corps,” he spat out and your eyes widened. “Or better yet. Now that I think about it, an accidental fall down the stairs might just do the job for me,” he smirked deviously and you gulped, anticipating his next crazy move.

Before any of you could do anything, a hand shot out from the darkness. It grabbed Deckan’s collar and harshly pulled, causing the man to steer off balance and lose his footing. You watched with a combination of relief and horror how everything happened as if in slow motion – him outstretching his hand in order to grab onto something, his body going further away from you before hitting the stone and proceeding to roll down. A thud was heard some seconds later, followed by a painful groan.

Then the sound of someone’s kick connecting with someone’s jaw echoed through the hallway, finally snapping you out of your stupor as you looked down to see Levi crouching down next to a beaten and bloody Deckan who was barely conscious.

“Touch her again and during the next expedition I’ll personally shove you into a titan’s mouth. I’m done with being silent and taking your shit, you filthy swine,” growled Levi and Deckan could only look in fear through his swollen eyes, barely nodding his head. Levi tsked before he climbed the stairs once again, taking your hand and quickly leading you into your office.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered as he closed and locked the door.

“So I should’ve let that mongrel push you down the stairs?” he spat out and you shook your head. “He deserved what he got. I don’t regret my decision.”

“No, but-“

“Don’t! Just…don’t…” yelled Levi before his voice settled into a pained groan, almost cracking as his head lowered letting the bangs cover his eyes, his body slouching against the door. You knew that look. The vulnerable look. “Please, don’t get hurt…not because of me,” he mumbled. “It’s not worth it.”

You frowned as you approached him. Without hesitation, you took his face into your hands and kissed his forehead before you settled his head onto your chest, arms engulfing his form.

“How many times do I have to say it? I’ll die for you if I have to. Because it is worth it. It is worth it if it’s for your sake,” you whispered into his ear as one hand went to stroke his hair and he relaxed in your embrace, sighing softly as his own arms went around your body, pulling you even closer.

“Live for me instead.”

❅

❅

❅

[reddus-sideblog]

M.E.R.C.s - Crossfire (Part 3)

“Alrighty, Cash, we’re up. Hit any armed corp that’s climbing the stairs. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel,” said Bones enthusiastically.

Bones laid his hand on the younger mercenary’s shoulder, probably to reassure her.

“Don’t touch me,” she said automatically, removing his hand.

Hefting the heavy weapon Cash moved across the roof, tossing the extra magazines next to where she was setting up. She only had one magazine of HV ammo, so she was hoping to make a standout first barrage. The Power Motors Incorporated building to their East dominated the sky in front of the M.E.R.C.s, and their vantage point offered a perfect view of the main West stairwell of the building. The stairwell was plain concrete with little adornment besides guardrails, and it featured ceiling to floor windows exposing anyone moving up or down them.

After the twentieth story of the building had exploded into a hail of glass and office employees, a number of security shutters had closed over windows across the building. From what Cash remembered of the briefing everything inside the building would lock up as well. There were supposed to be ones that would cover the stairwell windows, but the stuck up android that the group worked with seemed to have stopped them from kicking in. From what Cash could tell by looking into the stairwell, and from what she’d seen as the shutters were closing, the interior of the building was devolving in panic. The power was out on the upper floors, and everyone else was panicked by the explosion.

Cash threw herself next to the anti-material rifle on the edge of the roof. The rifle was as zeroed as she could get without a ranging shot, which was unfortunate, but she could adjust it as the firefight went on. Next time she would remember to bring a rangefinder. Bones had bought the rifle at a steep discount, but he had enough confidence in Cash to let her handle the mission’s sharpshooting, and she was ready to prove exactly why her Mercenary-Contractor Association file said that she had a “Master Level” in marksmanship.

As she got properly situated a growing noise that cut through the general din of Newland caught her attention. It came from the opposite direction she had heard the earlier machine gun and cannonfire come from as well. A helicopter was coming in from the North. 

“Bones-”, she started, turning to the other mercenary.

“I know,” he said, already looking through the scope on his rifle at the oncoming chopper, “They’re a lot earlier than I hoped they’d be. And that’s a Yalgrim-F. The thing’s loaded down with rockets, missiles, and a machine gun that could cut somebody in half with a single burst.”

He stopped looking down the scope and stretched his neck, “We’re leaving. We can’t help the girls if that thing turns us into paste. We’ll get Ari to give us a way in, or something.”

Bones started walking towards the fire escape. Cash muttered under her breath and collected her extra magazines. This job was on its way to the dumpster, and she would be lucky if she didn’t end up in one by the end of the day. She stormed towards the fire escape as the Yalgrim approached, the heavy chop of its blades thundering through the air. Cash gritted her teeth as it approached, the helicopter was circling the building, probably to survey the damage to see if they could land on the building’s rooftop helipad.

Cash dumped her extra magazines and squatted down, her feet kicking up gravel as she got into position. This was the third mission she had been assigned to that had gone tits up. She was tired of circumstances lining her up for failure, and even more sick of being subject to other people’s shitty plans. The helicopter rounded the PMI tower, coming into view again as it was spiraling upwards steadily, circling the building. Cash braced, aiming the weapon at the turning aircraft. She inhaled and centered the crosshairs on the area just below the Yalgrim’s spinning blades, on the dented armor plate that covered its internal mechanisms. All of her resentment boiled down to a single emotion as she pulled the trigger.

Fuck off and die.

The huge rifle roared as it fired, kicking up dust and gravel in the wake of the sky blue muzzle flare. The force of the weapon going off was enough to push the lean woman backwards, but as she was braced properly it didn’t send her tumbling. The round of high-velocity anti-material ammunition soared towards the helicopter's rotors, before smashing into the base of the mast and into the aircraft’s engine. The Yalgrim immediately began listing, flying out of its controlled turn and away from the PMI building. It began losing altitude but continued sidelong before it started spinning, utterly out of control. Thick, black smoke poured from the wounded engine as it glided lower and lower, just barely avoiding the tops of the buildings on the Naperton Sector’s South side. 

1.

“Cash you idiot, you’re gonna get us both killed!” yelled Bones as he threw himself up the ladder onto the roof again, just in time to see the helicopter fall into a neighboring sector’s canal with a tremendous explosion.

Cash watched as Bones stopped in his tracks, the stunned look on his face evident even through the sunglasses and balaclava. She ignored him and turned her attention to the PMI building’s stairwell again. In truth Cash was amazed at herself as well, she didn’t think that she would take down an armored helicopter when she’d started the mission today, and she certainly didn’t think it was something she would be capable of, but all the same she’d done it.

“Well, that was one hell of a nice shot missy, but don’t let it go to your head, huh?”

Cash grunted an affirmative as picked up her gear again, stood, and walked back to the lip of the roof, repositioning herself to provide covering fire to the teams still inside the building. Bones was right beside her in moments, taking very successful potshots at a corpsec team that was climbing up near the ninth floor. Cash chipped in after she changed to a magazine of standard ammunition, sending one of the corps tumbling down the staircase he’d just climbed, missing the upper left part of his torso.

2.

“Alright, Ari, Mellie, Miss Cash just took out the PMI cavalry. Mellie, join with Ari’s team and get down to the parking garage, we’ll meet down there. Elevators are out along with the power at the top levels, so take the stairs on the West side, we’ll cover you.”

Cash waited until Bones’ call was over to send a round through the leader of the next squad that was ascending the stairs. The shot sent him sprawling into his team, who were sprayed by what had previously been the interior of their fearless leader’s chest cavity. It was like shooting paper targets at the range.

3.

The sharpshooter aimed low for her next target, taking out the leg of one of the unfortunates pinned on the stairwell. He also tumbled, further stalling his squad, allowing Bones to fire away, injuring and incapacitating the rest of the squad with tremendous accuracy.

4.

Cash reached for the next magazine. Maybe this mission wasn’t fucked after all.

***

Schneider couldn’t believe his luck. Truly Deus Machina must have been looking over their mission. 

    The human touched his head, then left and right breast to make the sign of the Machina over himself in reverence. Not only had the freak accident of some private military helicopter crashing into the stand tank approaching benefitted them, the resultant explosion had sent cargo containers flying across the dock yard. Those containers had crushed most of the NCSDF soldiers that had been searching the dockyard, and hadn’t crushed any of the Holy Mercenaries. Plus there was a lot more cover strewn about the dockyard.

    Corporal Manuel Schneider didn’t consider himself a particularly devout Divinist, he mostly worked with the Brigade for a steady paycheck, but he was considering visiting his local church a bit more frequently after this latest brush with death. Few things were bespoke of divine favor quite like a burning helicopter falling from the sky to solve all of your problems.

    “Accion yah big lug, grab the sergeant, we’re getting out of here before anyone figures out what’s going on!” yelled the corporal.

    The huge android grabbed the sergeant while the swarthy human corporal wrangled the chaplain and Private Mills.

    “Are you doing alright, chaplain?” asked Schneider as he readied his sword and pistol.

    “Well, I-,” began the android.

    “Great, so we’re going to make a break for it, and get the hell out of this dock. Follow me, I’ll be leading the charge.”

    The corporal ran forward, patting his fellow corporal on the shoulder as he passed. Accion was now carrying both the captive and the sergeant, and was able to keep pace with the unburdened human. Schneider was very glad to have the huge labor android around, now more than ever.

    The dockyard was becoming a complete disaster as the workers and emergency fire crews tried to get a hold of the situation. Fire trucks were arriving and people were scrambling everywhere. In the middle of all the chaos it was very easy for the mercenaries to slip by, practically unabated. Even the front gate to the Haysau dock was open, letting the mercenaries slip out without a hitch. The white-coated squad settled into a walk as they got a few blocks away from the dockyard disaster, slowing down to evaluate their situation.

    “We need to find a clinic we can drop the sergeant off at,” asserted Accion.

    “No way. If we finish the mission without her she’ll wake up and put a hit out on us. I’m not the smartest guy around, but I’m not suicidal.” replied Manuel.

    Accion grunted unhappily, “fine fine. But we need to get out of sight soon. I hear police cars up ahead.”

    The android nodded in the direction he heard the sirens. He was indicating the sector to the North, one that looked like a corporate sector. The tallest tower in the area had had one of its upper floors destroyed, and it looked like it had been blown up from inside. As Schneider stopped to listen he heard the crack of gunfire. A situation certainly was occuring over there.

    “Yah think it’s another Holiday bombing?” asked Manuel as he scanned the area. 

    “Who cares, let's just hope it keeps the feddies busy,” said Accion, leading the way, “We’ve gotta get through here to get to the Ecker Park Sector if we want to be on time.”

    The Holy Mercenaries picked up the pace again, rushing into the Naperton Sector as furtively as possible. The sector was being swamped by emergency responders, evacuated corps, and onlookers. As busy as it was, with Accion leading the charge the small squad was able to pass through the crowds with relative ease.

    With the droves being so focused on the PMI tower, the M.E.R.C.s slipped into a small street that went around the perimeter of the sector. It was the long way around, but it seemed like the way to go to avoid getting the attention of the federal police. The pathway, however, didn’t cleanly encircle the sector as Accion had obviously hoped it would. The street ended up in the back lot of a warehouse, also branded by the Power Motors Industries imagery that adorned the tower looming over the whole sector. Schneider took over leading the squad, guiding them with him to a rear door near the docking bays. A few trucks were docked, but no truckers, and more importantly no guards, were to be seen.

    “We’ll take the shortest route out of the sector and just go through it,” proclaimed Corporal Schneider, igniting his laser sword.

    The door’s lock was reduced to slag in moments, with the way into the facility now secure. He knew that his bravado was warranted at this point. The squad only needed to make it through the warehouse, and after that they would be home free. Compared to escaping an NCSDF blockade this would be child’s play.

***

Bones sent out another burst of fire from the concrete barricade he was hunkered down behind. Exfiltrating was going to be complicated. Getting down from the rooftop and into the underground parking area was easy, but leaving was getting a lot harder by the moment. Ariadne, Mellie, Holiday, and Karsyn were coming down the stairs, and they’d arrive any moment now, but the armored truck wasn’t an option anymore. Not only were corporate soldiers hunkered around it like rokabees making a nest, but now the Federal Police were on the scene, doubling the firepower they were facing.

    Buckshot slammed into his cover, chipping away at the concrete that was just barely keeping him alive. The police were on his ass, and Cash was outside, ready to cover him and the girls while they escaped, but for now she was of no use. He knew that they would be throwing a flashbang and coming to apprehend him any moment now, the NCFP were predictable like that. If he just held out for a few more seconds the girls would be here, and his team could flank the feddies.

    “Hand over Holiday and we’ll let you go, M.E.R.C.!” called out one of the Federal Police.

    It was an obvious lie that Bones didn’t entertain for a second. Still, a little back and forth could buy him some time, and the felonious chimera was a pretty hefty bargaining chip.

    “Can you give me some time to think it over?” the handler called out, doing his best to keep the conversation going.

    “Yeah sure,” replied the unseen officer, “Take all the time you need.”

    Bones tried to think up a reply that would further stall the feddies. Too late. The unmistakable clang of a flashbang hitting pavement sounded off right next to him. He managed to look away from the flash, but the bang took his hearing out. Bones looked at his situation. They would try to flank the barricade on his right side for sure. Bones flopped onto the ground, completely prone, facing towards his previous right hand side, his LMR-88 kept just below the sight line of the concrete barricade.

    The first police officer approached incautiously, and got a burst of lead for it. He was down with a half dozen perforations in moments, letting Bones rise to a crouch and take out his partner right afterwards. He threw himself to the ground again as he saw a number of pistols lowered at him by the remaining Federal Police. From his prone position he reloaded his weapon, and also looted the downed officer that had tried to run him down. He was glad that holding a Silver-tier M.E.R.C. License let him pilfer the belongings of anyone brought down in the course of a mission, it made everything a lot less complicated even if it cost an arm and a leg each month.

    The still-warm officer had graciously left Bones a loaded BNAP 211 handgun and two flashbang grenades. The mercenary leapt up, both grenades primed in his hands and the pistol gripped firmly in his temporarily unmasked mouth. He took a light dusting of buckshot directly into his chest and left arm for his trouble, but his armor did its job, making him wince only slightly. He underhand tossed both of the grenades over one of the police cars that the remaining cops were hiding behind.

    The grenades were right on target, making Bones wish that he could hear the pained yells from behind the vehicles. He hopped over the barricade, rushing down the Federal Police’s cover, sliding across the hood of the nearest car to get a cone of fire with maximum effect. As he stood once more on the other side of the police’s cover he was met by a line of dead bodies. The police had already been taken out. The culprit was likely the small squad of drones at the opposite end of the line of three cop cars, and the small pile of shell cases next to them. Bones had never been so glad to see the mindless automata.

    As the ringing in his ears died down the M.E.R.C. looked around, noticing the small squad of familiar silhouettes emerging from a smoke cloud by the stair access. One huge, two well-armored, and a shorter, lithe one. 

    “Girls!” Bones shouted, glad to see them all in one piece.

    “Hi boss!” replied Mellie, waving happily.

    “You got the files, right Ari?”

    The android rolled her quad optics, “I already told you, yes. It’s right here.”

    Saying that she hefted the case in her arms. Ariadne was holding it tight to her like a swaddled baby, and that made Bones feel extremely relieved.

    Holiday was ushering the A-5 drones away from the cars, intent on rigging the vehicles with plastic explosive charges. She duct taped bricks of plastique to the underside of two of the squad cars, with a thin, almost invisible tripwire running between two of the pillars that the vehicles were parked nearby. Satisfied, the chimera skipped over to rejoin the group as they were walking towards the exit.

    “Alright, we’ve got to make a mad sprint about two blocks that way,” said Bones, pointing towards the closest exit out of the sector, “Cash will cover us as best she can, but we have to book it since every cop and corp in the sector is going to be gunning for us. There’s a PMI warehouse at the edge of the sector, and it has a direct exit right next to it. We’re running to that warehouse, and then get the hell out of there. Ecker Park’s the next sector over, it's owned by some Divinists who don’t want a damn thing to do with Power Motors or the Federal Police so we’ll be home free.”

    As he finished his explanation the handler looked at his team. Mellie nodded eagerly, Holiday gave a “nyeah” of approval, Ariadne let out a terse “affirmative”, and Karsyn sighed deeply.

    “This reminds me of when I got my last arm blown off…” she grumbled, “But yeah, I get it. Let’s all try to get there in one piece.”

    As Bones was preparing himself mentally to run when the cargo elevator on the opposite side of the garage opened. It was either a fresh group of corporate security or Federal Police, and Bones didn’t care to find out the particulars. He started sprinting out of the underground parking garage, up the ramp, and out into broad daylight.

    Bones only took a brief glance in the midst of his sprint, but it was enough. There were a number of PMI security trucks outside of the tower and at least three Newland City Federal Police cruisers scattered around the intersection he was running across. That was definitely more than he’d seen on his way in, and he caught a quick earful of a shouting match unfolding as he passed by.

    “Step off, this is PMI Security Corps territory, you feddies shouldn’t even be here!”

    “We’re here to apprehend Holiday, and going after public enemy #1 makes it our domain.”

    As the handler, his M.E.R.C.s, and the drones ran for the warehouse heads turned. As they crossed the first street, almost every gun in the vicinity went off, followed by a distinct blast in the garage that turned into a much larger fireball.

    “It’s those fucking mercenaries, take them out!”

    “What was that blast just now?!”

Chaos enveloped the street as the whiz of bullets flying was alarmingly nearby, and a few of them even hit Bones’ armored extremities. The drones didn’t fare anywhere near as well, with one getting gunned down, its legs being reduced to shreds of metal and ruin. Bullets and shot deflected off of Karsyn’s antique armor with some of the rebounds cutting at her limbs, while Mellie and Ariadne were stung by some of the weaker projectiles. A bullet grazed Holiday’s mostly orange hair, with another slicing through her left forearm. She yowled in pain as she clutched her shot arm, not letting the injury slow her down.

    “It’s Holiday, aim for her limbs! Don’t hit her head!”

    The distinct cannonfire of Cash’s anti-material rifle kicked in right as the garage-based fireball died down. The sharpshooter drew fire, but it was already too late for the corpsecs hidden behind one armored truck, as the shot skipped across the armor plating of the vehicle and painted an adjacent NCFP car red with corp blood.

    The amount of fire lessened significantly after that, as though the lesser weapons had been cowed into silence by the roar of some greater beast. The beast roared again, sending ruined shards of metal everywhere as Cash struck a police cruiser, resulting in a secondary fire from the cruiser’s gas tank being pierced. The vehicle went up in flames and it took some of the nearby cops with it.

    The warehouse was in sight, and as the M.E.R.C.s crossed the small parking lot to get into the building Bones was glad to not feel the kiss of a bullet. He blasted the lock with his captured pistol, rushing into the warehouse’s front office, eager to get out of the open air for a moment.

It seemed like Cash’s covering fire had put the feddies and corps into complete disarray, and now all that was left was to leave the sector. The warehouse seemed empty, but Bones knew it would be best to be wary. He breathed deeply, catching his breath, as did the rest of the team. He hadn’t suffered much aside from some bruising, but the rest of his team were starting to look worse for wear. Bones passed around some Insta-Sutures and bandages. It wasn’t a lot but it would help everyone keep their blood in their body.

“They’re nyot following us quite yet,” reported Holiday, peering out the front door as she fiddled with something.

They were in the warehouse’s front end, and the proper storage area, no doubt filled with PMI merchandise, was just behind a set of swinging doors to his immediate right. They just needed to cross through the warehouse and get through the unloading bays to the next sector over.

    Across the building a door was kicked in, loudly, and a number of distant voices soon followed. Bones met the eyes of his subordinates for a moment, before motioning for them to spread out across the warehouse floor, quietly. The girls nodded, and went as quietly through the doors as they could. Bones and Karsyn were the last ones to enter the back room, and as they entered through the swinging doors the human and the devilkin were immediately in line of sight of a group of white-coated mercenaries, led by a dark-skinned, confident looking man.

    Bones and the man met eyes for a moment. Bones was still holding the stolen pistol, the other man was armed with a laser sword and his own pistol. The Holy Mercenaries looked like they had been through quite a firefight to get where they were, as all of them seemed a bit run down, but Bones wasn’t ready to underestimate the other team just because they looked ragged. He was sure that he himself looked like he had gone through the ringer, to say nothing of the rest of his team.

    Still, another team of mercenaries was bad, and one showing up while his team still had their payday in hand was even worse. Claim jumpers like this were nothing new to the seasoned M.E.R.C., and he was quite ready to fight for his payday. The handler very slowly lifted his hand up to his headset, so as not to startle the other mercenaries.

    “Ari, get the hell out of here. We’ll take him!”

[axoxtxhxh]

Promise Me - Chapter 1 - Water

Summary: Reader and Armin fall out of an air carrier during a training mission and end up in the ocean. They manage to wash ashore but they have no idea where they are. ArminxFem!Reader Content: Death Word Count: ~ 2,900

A/N: Here is the first chapter of my first Armin story. I posted a summary chapter a while back, but actually got around to start writing it. I hope you like it! Also, thank you @luanabonn​ for helping me think of the title :)

The wind shifted and the air carrier lurched sideways sending Armin flying to the other side, near the opening. His light body soared through the air leaving him nothing to grab ahold of. You saw him flying back and dove for him, grabbing his arm just in time as he dropped out the entrance. You held him over the edge, trying to pull him, but the air carrier shifted again as you slid backwards, your arm being strained against the threshold.

“Section Commander!” Armin screamed.

“I’m trying, Armin! Don’t let go!” You reached your other arm up, trying to pull yourself up to get better leverage when suddenly the air carrier swung a third time, sending it shifting the other direction. You had nothing to hold as you footing continued slipping, slowly sending you and Armin out the opening and into the dark ocean below. “Shit!”

You both fell through the air, barely able to see how close or far your impact was. Armin was screaming, holding onto your arm with both hands. You reached over and wrapped your fingers around his metal straps and held on as tightly as you could, bracing yourself for the inevitable crash into the water.

“Arm—” You both hit the water hard. The water hitting your face like needles, ice cold needles.

You couldn’t tell what was up and what was down and you quickly tried to assess your surroundings. You were still holding onto Armin, but he wasn’t holding onto you. He must have either passed out from the impact or from the fall. As you stayed still in the water, you could feel a pull in one direction and you swam that way, kicking until you reached the surface and gasped for air as you pulled Armin’s head above the water.

“Armin.” You shook him a little, trying to see if he was conscious or not. No response. “Armin.”

You shook a little harder and checked his pulse. He was definitely still alive. Setting a finger on his lip, you checked to see if he was breathing, but didn’t feel any air.

“Fuck. Come on, Armin.”

Leaning forward and being careful to not push him in the water more, you brought your lips to his, pinching his nose and breathing into him deeply then pulling back and waiting. Nothing. You did it again. Nothing. You did it again. Nothing.

“Please Armin, please wake up.” You breathed into him again and his body shook, his head lifting up and he started coughing up water.

It didn’t take long after that for him to start screaming again, realizing he was in the open water in near pitch blackness.

“Section Commander!”

“Armin, I’m right here.” You put your hand on his cheek until he calmed down.

“Where are we?” He tried to look around.

“Somewhere in the ocean.”

It was silent while you both worked to stay afloat, neither one of you being an experienced swimmer.

“Section Commander?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared.”

“Me too, Armin.”

“Should I titanize?”

“We don’t know how deep this water is. It may not even help.”

The silence was difficult for both of you to hear. The darkness making it even worse. You tightened your grip on Armin’s arm as the sound of the wind picked up. You had no experience in the water, you were both completely out of your element working with the little knowledge some books and the volunteers from Marley were able to provide. Marley.

The mission was to take the air carrier to Marley to survey the area from a distance. You weren’t even sure at this point how close you were to Marley’s shores. The air carrier has left Paradis and moved for quite a while. You never reached Marley, but it’s possible that you could be close enough to swim.

Would that even be safe though? Swimming to enemy territory. It had to be safer than the situation you were in now. Either way, there was nothing you could do but hope you don’t drift too far from shore while waiting for morning. Right now, you just needed to make it until morning.

“Armin, take off your metal straps and boots. I think we need to ditch any extra weight.” You instructed. Armin followed.

Feeling your boots drop from your hands and disappear below you filled your heart with trepidation. The unknown completely surrounded you both. You shook it off. Fear wasn’t going to help either of you now.

“Take off your pants.” You told him and he followed.

You unbuckled your pants and pulled them off, tying the legs and whipping them into the water to build up air. Using your belt, you tightened the waistband, holding the air inside and putting it over your head as a lifejacket.

Armin watched you as best as he could, in awe of how quickly you created a life jacket. He did the same and you both linked arms to stay together. Floating into the darkness and hoping when the sun came up that you’d be able to see some land.

…..

You had both been floating for a several hours. It was hard to tell how much time had passed. You knew it was around ten o’clock when you both fell out of the carrier. If slivers of light weren’t coming from the horizon of any direction, you had to assume it’s been less than seven hours. However, it had to be more than four. What a pointless thing to be thinking about, you thought.

Armin’s head was bobbing as he tried not to fall asleep. You were just as tired. Even with the help of your makeshift life jacket, you were both exhausted.

A couple more hours later, you were doing math in your head again when Armin’s head shot up.

“Did you hear that?” His eyes were still lidding, wanting to sleep more, but forcing himself awake.

“Hear what—”

“Shh… listen.” He leaned his head forward as if getting a couple inches closer to the sound would help. You did the same. His eyes opened wide with excitement. “A seagull.”

“Are you okay?”

“If we can hear a seagull, we have to be close to shore!”

You thought about it. He was right. You could definitely hear birds, but it was still too dark to see which way they were coming from or where you should swim. You both spun around, looking for any light. It would be another hour or so before you should see the sun rise.

“We just have to wait; the sun should come up—”

“There!” Armin shouted and you turned to look. The tiniest amount of light started creeping over the horizon. Armin was smiling at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. The night was over, but you still had to make it to shore, wherever it was.

It took about thirty minutes for there to be enough light to see which direction to go. It was a bittersweet moment when you both spotted land and began swimming as fast as you both could. Armin quickly stopping and looking at you, worry painted on his face.

“If that’s land,” he started, turning to the sun, “and the sun is rising from there… That isn’t Paradis.” You both sighed.

“We’re going to have to make it work. Be careful as we get closer.”

You felt like you were swimming forever. The shoreline getting closer and closer, but the cover of nighttime was no longer there and you now had to swim to shore fully visible. From what you could see, it looked like an empty beach. So maybe luck was on your side a bit.

You pulled Armin’s arm to the direction on the side of the beach. If you had to get there in full daylight, you might as well avoid the middle of the beach.

When you reached the shore, both of you laid down on your backs, panting and you squeezed the sand in your fists.

“We did it.” Armin sighed.

“Let’s go. We shouldn’t hang out here longer than we need to.” You stood up and pulled the lifejacket off, untying it and pulling your pants back on.

“Section Comm—” Armin started.

“Don’t call me that.” You looked over to him as you buttoned your pants. “Not here.”

“Y…Y—Y/N…” he stumbled over your name, “where are we going to go?”

“I’ll think of something. I’m sure there are places to hide.”

“But we don’t—”

“Armin.” You grabbed his arm and he gasped, his eyes wide as he listened to you. “Your discomfort and concern are valid and I understand them, but right now it’s not helpful.”

He nodded, finishing putting his pants back on and you watched the cheerless look on his face and felt guilty.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“It’s okay.” He shrugged but didn’t look up.

“No, I disregarded your concerns too quickly.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “Right now, we only have each other. I want to hear what you have to say.”

Armin looked up at you and smiled and for a short moment, you almost forgot you were stranded. That is until Armin’s smile dropped at something behind you.

“Section Commander.” His whole face dropped, turning white as be brought a shaky finger up to point behind you.

You quickly turned to see what he was pointing to and were immediately met with a man holding a gun facing the both of you. Your first instinct was to stand in front of Armin, but just as you stepped in front, Armin pushed you down.

“Armin!” You yelled, turning around to look at him just as the man shot the gun. Armin’s head flung back and his body hit the sand. You crawled over to him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and shaking him. “Armin!”

His eyes stared blankly at the sky while your eyes filled with tears as you looked up to the small hole in his forehead now pooling with blood.

“Armin…” You shook him again. “Armin, no.”

You sniffled as the tears dropped down onto his chest and you moved your hands to his cheeks, holding them. They were still warm and you dropped your head down to his chest trying to hold the warmth there a bit longer.

“Armin!” You shouted, shooting up from the bed. You looked around the dark room and took deep breaths. You quickly reached next to you for Armin’s body and he sat up.

“Another nightmare?” His voice was raspy with sleep. You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you and grabbed his face, brushing his hair back and checking his forehead. “I’m fine, Y/N.”

“I know… I just need to check.” You were still panting when he put his hand on your back and rubbed it gently. “It’s fine. Let’s sleep.”

He put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you back down to sleep.

He had asked you enough times before to know better than to ask about it now. You never wanted to talk about your nightmares. He figured they had something to do with him getting hurt because each time you had to check him for an injury that wasn’t there. The first time it was his back, then his stomach, then his throat, tonight it was his forehead. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer and quickly falling back asleep.

His snores and the warm air from his breathing hit your ears and you felt an odd comfort from them, knowing he was okay. It had been almost a full month since you both reached the shore. The nightmares only started a couple nights in. They were all the same in one way or another, Armin dying. You took a deep breath, pushing yourself deeper in his arms and closing your eyes until you could fall back asleep.

When you woke up, Armin wasn’t in bed next to you. You looked around and found him standing by the window, looking outside.

He was holding a cup and drinking something warm and you watched the steam swirl out of the top, disappearing the higher it got. Armin brought the cup to his lips, then turned to look at you. His eyes lighting up, noticing you were awake.

“You’re up.” He smiled, walking closer to the bed. It wasn’t actually a bed. You dreamed of the day you could be back home sleeping in your bed. This was more like a bunch blankets on the floor, but it had been doing the job well enough.

“What are you drinking?” You sat up, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“Tea.” He sat down cross-legged in front of you, offering the cup to you. “Have some.”

You took the cup and took a sip, the warm, sharp-tasting liquid glided across your tongue and down your throat. You had never been much of a tea drinker, but you had to admit, it did taste good.

“This is good. Where did you get it?” You handed the cup back to him. “You didn’t go outside to get it, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. I told you I wouldn’t.” He took the cup back and took a sip. “It’s from one of the bags you brought yesterday.”

“Oh, I don’t even remember picking it up.”

Armin took a sip of the tea and watched you staring off at the wall. You had both already gotten thinner in the short time you’ve been there, but he could really see it on you. You had a slightly more muscular build than most women and then the lack of physical activity topped with eating less had slimmed you down quite a bit. He handed you the cup of tea again, but you shook your head.

“I should get going. I already slept too late.” You stood up and grabbed your pants, pulling them on then slipping your shoes on. Armin watched, setting the cup on the floor next to him.

“I was thinking—”

“You’re not coming with.” You turned to look at him, tired of him asking this same question every day.

“Please, Y/N. I’m going insane sitting in here all day.” He stretched his legs in front of him. “I will stay right next to you and do whatever you say.”

“Armin…” You started. You did feel really bad for him. It must be incredibly boring and honestly really exhausting sitting in the building all day. It was too big of a risk for even you to go out, but you needed food.

“I can help.” He sat up, seeing a chance to possibly convince you. “I won’t say anything to anyone. I will just carry stuff. Please?”

It wasn’t too terrible of an idea. It wasn’t that unsafe for him to be outside. You just preferred going alone because it was one less thing for you to have to watch while you were out. Looking at him really had you wanting to say yes. He sat back on his heels and smiled at you, his big blue eyes excited for a ‘yes’.

“What about shoes? You don’t have any to wear.” You pointed out. “These barely fit me.”

Armin stood up so quickly, you thought that maybe he heard something. You watched him run to the area you kept the food and started digging through the bags. He came back with a pair of black tennis shoes and put them on. Your eyes widened then quickly narrowed.

“Where did you get those?”

“I went outside yesterday,” he mumbled, looking down.

“You did what?!”

“I went outside. I can’t stay in here all day by myself.” He was sitting on his heels again, his hands on his thighs and his head lowered. Even in such a submissive position, he was still standing his ground.

“You have to. How irresponsible can you be? You went outside and didn’t even tell me.”

“You wouldn’t have let me go if I asked.” “Armin, we barely know where we are. It’s my job to get us home. We made a plan and we both agreed on it. I would be the one to go out and get information. When I bring it back to you, you figure out what it means.”

“That was a good plan before when we thought we would only be here for a couple days. It’s been weeks.”

“So you’re just changing the plan without talking to me?” You huffed, extremely cross that he disobeyed you, but honestly a tad impressed. Armin was always one to follow what section commanders said and seeing him decide something for himself made you look at him differently.

“I’m not changing the plan. I didn’t even plan to go outside. I saw a man fall down the steps across the street. I went down to help him and he saw that I didn’t have shoes so he gave me an old pair. I came right back up. I promise.”

You took a deep breath turning your back to Armin while you pinched the bridge of your nose. He was right. You had both been here for too long already. Your idealistic plan of making it back to Paradis in a couple days was long gone and it was time to think of a plan B. You turned around to look at him. He was still looking down and you felt bad. Damn it.

“Alright,” you muttered, “you can come with.”

[cloudywriter]

camp staghorn - 1

Okay here is the official first chapter of Camp Staghorn! I know it’s long and maybe not the most entertaining but gotta have that building up first. Now things will start to pick up just you wait. Thank you for all the love on the snippet too! Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

my masterlist

~~~

Aelin sighed as she finally got off the bright yellow bus, her three bags weighing heavily on her arms and shoulder. The sun was already high in the sky and beating down despite Terrasen’s usually mild temperatures. Lysandra hopped down on the gravel path the bus had stopped in front of with a huff, Dorian and Elide followed. 

They were all about to spend the next week as camp counselors for a huge group of kids all in 1st-6th grade. She was just glad they had 6th graders. While Aelin loved kids but she wasn’t particularly looking forward to what she knew would be a long and tiring week. But, being a camp counselor would look great for her college applications. It was the summer right before their senior year, school had ended only a week prior. 

A number of other people who looked around her age shuffled about the area already convening into their respective friend groups. A few sat around old wooden picnic tables that were set up outside of the camp’s entrance. A huge sign was erected overhead with the words Camp Staghorn painted in white block letters. 

Chaol finally exited the bus and came to stand by Aelin.

“Really, Aelin? Three bags?” Chaol commented, shifting his singular black, duffel bag on his shoulder. 

Aelin shrugged, “I didn’t know what all I would need.”

Chaol only half-heartedly shook his head. Although Aelin and Chaol had broken up in the middle of junior year their relationship was still relatively amicable. 

Lys quickly shoved between Aelin and Chaol. “Aelin, look!” She whispered loudly into Aelin’s ear, pointing towards a group of boys occupying the grass near the entrance. 

At that, Aelin perked up, especially when she laid eyes on the group. Seriously, four of some of the best-looking high school boys she had ever seen were huddled there. 

A boy with tan, golden skin and blonde curly hair piled on his head seemed to be the focal point of the group, Aelin could hear his voice all the way where she was but couldn’t discern what he was saying. The boy immediately next to him looked to be his brother but with a brown mop of hair instead. Two other boys were there too, one with long, straight brown hair and a grumpy demeanor radiating off of him. The other boy was who Aelin really noticed though, his hair was a unique blonde, it appeared almost silver and was cut shorter, his skin had a healthy glow. He was in the circle with the other boys but she could tell his mind wasn’t. He was looking out at the expansive, blue lake that could be seen just through the trees with a thoughtful, pensive stare on his features. 

Dorian stepped up behind Aelin, following Lys’s finger to the gathering of boys. 

“Oh, they go to Mistward High. Chaol and I have had a few lacrosse games against them,” Dorian offered nonchalantly. 

“They’re gorgeous,” Lys giggled. 

Aelin shoved Lysandra’s shoulder playfully, “You’re dating my cousin!”

“I know, I know, but maybe you could have a summer camp fling. Oh, my gods! Like Camp Rock, you hear him singing your song, or whatever happened, and boom it’s love at first sight.” Aelin laughed and rolled her eyes. 

At her laugh, the silver-haired boy turned his eyes in her direction and they made brief eye contact, Aelin gave him a small smile and the boy looked away immediately. Well, that was rude. 

A man suddenly stepped up onto one of the empty picnic tables, a clipboard in hand. His hat was embroidered with Camp Staghorn and he wore a matching t-shirt in a deep green hue. 

“Alright, everyone listen up please!” He clapped his hands a few times to grab everyone’s attention. 

“My name is Gavriel, I’m the director of Camp Staghorn so if you have any questions, comments, or concerns I’m the guy to come to. Now, you all have signed off on behaving and being camp counselors who will set a good example but let’s just go over a few ground rules. First, no funny business between boys and girls camps especially at night, stay in your cabins after lights out. Second, remember to clean up after yourselves and your campers. Third, stay on top of your respective schedules. And really, just use common sense please, you’re all seniors you know the difference between right and wrong I don’t want to have to stand up here and list out a bunch of rules for a bunch of hypothetical scenarios, understood?”

A few head nods and murmurs of yes rippled through the crowd. 

“Great, then I’ll skip over that, you all know what’s expected of you. I’m going to call up names and give you a packet and a t-shirt. In that packet will be a list of your campers, your camp number, your cabin number, a map, and your camp’s schedule for the next week. The schedules are very packed so remember to stay on top of things, okay?”

More nods and murmurs of acknowledgment. 

Gavriel began to call names and people milled up to him to grab their new belongings. 

“Fenrys Moonbeam.” A few snickers went through the group and the blonde boy from earlier proudly made his way up to Gavriel. 

A few more names were called, Aelin remembered hearing the other two boys were named Lorcan and Connall but she was focused on learning the silver-haired boy’s name. 

“Rowan Whitethorn.” At that, the boy - Rowan - approached the table. Aelin thought the name fit him. 

“Elide Lochan.” Elide quickly made her way to Gavriel as Dorian, Chaol, and Lysandra got called too. 

“Aelin Galathynius.” Aelin made her way up, her heavy bags hitting her legs as she walked. She acquired the packet and shirt from Gavriel. 

A list of around twelfth names of girls looked back at Aelin. She skimmed them and saw written across the top was her camp number and cabin number with her schedule and map attached. Camp number 6 and cabin 3B. Lys peeked over Aelin’s shoulder.

“Oh, good you have 3B, Elide has 2B and I have 4B.” 

Aelin smiled but the three girls were a little put out when they noticed their schedules didn’t really align besides the designated meal times. “What are Dorian and Chaol’s cabins?”

“I don’t know they were in the E ones, they put the boys and girls on opposite sides,” Elide answered. Aelin nodded her head. 

“Okay, everyone should have everything now. The kids should arrive in about an hour, so make your way to your cabins and get dressed in your camp shirts. Then we will have a get-to-know-you activity and a little kick-off game when everyone arrives,” Gavriel spoke again.

Once they were dismissed everyone headed towards the cabins and mentally prepared themselves for an incoming army of children. 

+++

The introductions had gone fairly well, Aelin could probably name at least seven of the girls’ names off the top of her head. They all appeared friendly and like they would be a solid group, Aelin found herself looking forward to the week surprisingly. 

The girls and Aelin had all gotten settled in their cabin and were dressed in matching deep green shirts with the number 6 printed largely in white on the back. They made their way to the center of the camp which accommodated a large wooden stage and matching benches lined up around it in a semi-circle. It was clear at some point the stage and benches had been painted with bright colors and patterns but the paint had begun to peel off with time. 

Aelin directed the girls to all sit on the middle bench in the third row as she surveyed the area, looking for any sign of Elide and Lysandra. Most groups were finishing up their introduction games and convening in the main area now as instructed. 

Elide appeared from around a group of trees, her girls trailing closely behind. Aelin smiled when she saw her and waved her over. They all quickly settled in and waited for the second part of the day to start. 

“I’m already sweating through this shirt,” Elide sighed, fanning herself with the packet given to them earlier. 

“Do you know what the kick-off game is?” Aelin asked Elide curiously. 

Elide only shook her head.

A few minutes passed and the benches started to get pretty packed with people all chatting noisily. 

A cough into a mic alerted everyone, a dozen heads shifted towards the stage. 

“Alright, I believe we have all the 6th-grade groups here so why don’t we get started,” Gavriel spoke with enthusiasm. 

“So, get ready boys and girls for the great Staghorn mud race! Groups will be pinned against groups, boys vs. girls until there’s only one undefeated girl’s team and one undefeated boy’s team remaining and then we will have the final throw down!”

A few whoops went through the crowd. Fenrys was close to the stage pumping his arm in the air, hyping up his collection of young boys. 

“Follow me to the track and we will announce the beginning brackets!” Gavriel hopped off of the stage, he and a few other officials of the camp led the way down a dirt path steering away from the stage. 

They all stopped after a short trek, huddled around a middle strip of field complete with obstacles. 

“Here you can see what you’ll have to face. First, you have to high knee through the tires, then climb up the wooden wall using the rope and slide down the net on the other side, next crawl through one of the tunnels, and hop from log stump to log stump and book it to the finish line! Of course, you have to do all of that in slippery mud, it will be messy. The first team to get their counselor and all their campers through wins and moves on to the next round,” Gavriel explained. 

Aelin could feel the anticipation and eagerness radiating off of counselors and kids alike. Even Aelin was feeling excited, her overly competitive nature boiling to the surface. 

Aelin swiftly turned to her small army of 12-year-olds. “Okay, girls, I want every single one of you to be booking it the whole way through, we will come out the winners at all costs, I don’t do losing.”

The girls looked up at Aelin with wide eyes, many nodding their agreement.

“Oh, I forgot to mention the overall winning camp gets ice cream after dinner tonight!” Gavriel interjected.

The stakes were high, not only was Aelin competitive to a fault but she also loved sweets. “Yup, that only confirms it, no losing!” 

“We’ll give it our all, promise,” spoke one of her campers. A girl with long brown hair contained in two long braids named Borte, if Aelin remembered correctly. 

Aelin smiled, “That’s the spirit,” and offered Borte a high-five. 

Gavriel called out the first two camp numbers, both boy groups, that would be competing. 

Aelin watched the match closely, noting areas she thought seemed best to avoid and strategizing in her mind. After the race concluded two other camps occupied the starting line, those being made up of girls. 

A few more matches came to a close when Dorian and Chaol’s respective groups were called up. Aelin, Lys, and Elide all gave a little whoop, Aelin patted Dorian on the back as he passed her, he flashed back a dazzling smile. 

Unfortunately, one of the boys on Dorian’s team fell in the mud and tripped a good number of his fellow campmates, wrecking Dorian’s chances of winning as Chaol and his boys slipped by. 

“C’mon Dorian!” Aelin screamed, cupping her hands around her mouth. A few of her girls did the same, encouraging them to get a move on despite them not knowing Dorian; it made Aelin smile. Chaol’s team took the victory and Dorian trudged past Aelin in defeat, his body covered in mud. 

At one point Fenrys’ camp and Rowan’s camp went against each other. Aelin subconsciously watched that match like a hawk. Rowan was fast despite the mud and the t-shirt he had changed into seemed to be a bit small, it clung to his upper body, highlighting his muscles. Not to mention, the green complimented his hair and skin tone beautifully. 

Rowan was effective in herding his campers through the course, offering a helping hand and encouragement the whole way through unlike Fenrys who completed the obstacles first and resolved to yell at his campers to hurry. Unsurprisingly, Rowan and his camp crossed the finish line as a unit, Fenrys did not look happy but Aelin saw Rowan crack a smile, it was small but it was there.

As time went on both Lys and Elide had gone. Elide’s group had lost against a random camp while Lys had won. 

“Alright, last up for the beginning bracket we have camp 6 and camp 9!”

Aelin cracked her knuckles, she had been waiting for camp 6 to be called impatiently. 

“Okay, girls, now is our time to shine. Get out there and make me proud, remember stick to the sides, the middle seems to be the most slippery. If you slip it's okay just get right back up, don’t leave anyone behind.” All of them nodded in response. 

“Hands in,” Aelin said, sticking her hand in the middle of the huddle, “On 3, 1, 2, 3!”

As Aelin yelled three she and all her campers screamed camp 6 and raised their hands in the air and then took their spot on the starting block. 

The counselor of the opposing team seemed snooty, her nose was upturned as if she couldn’t believe she would have to get dirty in a few seconds. Her bright, almost white, blonde hair was braided down her back and she had her arms crossed. 

Aelin didn’t have a chance to say anything before Gavriel blew his whistle signaling the start of the race. 

Aelin exploded forward, focusing on her footing as she went. Luckily, she was athletic and had played a multitude of sports, including track, throughout the years. Aelin easily made her way through the rows of tires, turning back to check her girls’ progress. They all were keeping up and moving as a unit. Aelin didn’t waste the time to check the other group’s position. 

Aelin made it to the wall and grabbed the thick, coarse rope now caked with mud. Her hands slipped but she gritted her teeth and made it to the top of the platform. Borte was right behind her climbing, Aelin reached and grabbed Borte’s hand pulling her up the rest of the way. 

Aelin continued that cycle with the rest, offering support when the girls struggled with their grip on the rope then she slid down the net once they were all over the top. 

“You got it, girls, keep going!” Aelin encouraged. 

Aelin crawled through one of the large, black, plastic tunnels, getting covered with mud in the process. Then she jumped from log to log though they too were coated with mud. Aelin finished off strong, leading the last of her girls across the finish line. Aelin turned her attention back to the course and saw the other camp’s counselor still on the track. 

She was truly taking the time to scrap some of the mud off her shoe on the edge of one of the log stumps. 

“Remelle! It’s a race, you have to run!” Fenrys screamed from the side. Remelle, apparently, didn’t deign to respond, she only wrinkled her nose. 

“Well, camp 6 will be moving on!” Gavriel declared. 

Aelin and her girls cheered, jumping at each other forming one big mud hug. 

The cycle continued, camps faced off until the brackets grew smaller and smaller. By the time Aelin and her girls went for a second time, the mud on her body was drying uncomfortably. 

They succeeded in beating the other group once more using the same strategy. 

Before Aelin knew it Gavriel was announcing the final match-up. 

“Let’s get a drumroll please for our final throw down,” Gavriel stated, drumming his hands on his knees along with the crowd. 

“Representing the boys we have camp 12 and representing the girls we have camp 6!”

The crowd yelled and clapped wildly, Aelin knew she was smiling uncontrollably and was ready to claim her sweet, cold prize. 

“Aelin! Aelin! Aelin!” She heard Lys, Elide, and other girls screaming rhythmically. 

The boys started up their own chant, which Dorian and Chaol joined, Aelin would punish them later. It was then Aelin fully realized who she was facing: Rowan. The adrenaline had blinded her the last few rounds and she had barely processed who was winning and losing. Now, Rowan Whitethorn was staring back at her from the opposite side of the start. 

Even with mud covering much of his body and splattered across his face he was still insanely hot. Aelin hoped the same could be said about her. 

Too soon Gavriel announced the beginning of the final race, a loud whistle filled the air and they were off. 

Once again, Aelin and her girls stuck to the less muddy sides, navigating the course expertly but it seems Rowan and his boys were doing the same. Aelin didn’t spare much time analyzing their positions but she could tell it was much closer than the previous races. Once again, Aelin fought her way up the rope and dangled off the platform to pull up strugglers. She spared a glance at Rowan, he was doing the same. She huffed, “C’mon girls, it's the last time you have to climb this, you’ve got it!”

Aelin finally got the last one over and flopped down the net which was saturated with mud at this point. Aelin was really looking forward to washing this all off later while she ate her ice cream. She then dove into the tunnel, slithering through at a record speed. Next came the home stretch, all she had to do was jump across the logs. She hopped from one stump to another until she was almost at the end. But on the second to last log, the mud that gathered atop it faltered and she stumbled. Cursing, Aelin regained her footing and prayed it was still enough.

Little did she know Rowan had had his own little tumble. Now, they were neck and neck making a final dash to the finish line. Rowan was probably a bit faster than Aelin and she panicked, her instincts to win at all costs taking over. It just so happened that Rowan was just close enough for her to give him a little nudge, to maybe upset his balance just enough that she could pull ahead. Aelin did just that and Rowan went down, his foot slipped into a small ditch of mud water. In hindsight, Aelin felt dirty but not enough to feel particularly remorseful when she heard the roar of victory from the crowd and her camp. 

Aelin turned back and saw Rowan was glaring at her, his foot still submerged in mud. She halted her victory dance and made her way over to him, offering him a hand.

Rowan took it, his large hand dwarfing hers but the feeling of mud squishing between them did ruin the moment for her a bit. Instead of using her hand as leverage, Rowan pulled Aelin towards him and she stumbled, slipping back until she was next to him in his mud pit. 

Aelin saw red, although she realized she probably deserved it and was already covered in mud anyway her temper rose. Aelin was just naturally wired to explode at any moment like a nuclear bomb. 

Rowan, however, kept his grip firm on Aelin’s hand and he drew her forward until his mouth aligned with Aelin’s ear. 

“You’ll pay for that one, Aelin.” Rowan’s breath caressed her ear and a shiver traveled down her spine. Despite the fact he was literally threatening her, Aelin’s heart skipped a beat and her breath hitched.

She kept her bravado about her though and only smirked in response, “It’s on.”

~~~

Hope you’re as excited as I am! All comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated, thank you. 

taglist: @live-the-fangirl-life

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 26//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia, @fantasyshadowhunters) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

I hope this chapter finds you all well, please enjoy some fluffy Feysand and baby vibes! ❤️

"He's breathtaking," Rhys said quietly from his place beside me.

After the maelstrom of labor had passed, Sebastian entered the world with a resounding wail—the most heartwarming sound I had ever heard in my life. The minutes after passed in a blur; the midwife placing him on my chest as she and Madja worked on cleaning him off with damp washcloths while Rhys and I stared at our newborn babe. We were both too completely and utterly stunned to speak in those first few minutes but sobbed the second he opened his eyes and were met with remarkable violet-blue.

Every part of him was truly incredible; resembling his father in nearly every feature except for the blue in his eyes and the tiny, perfect, shape of his mouth—even better than my own. I touched the soft, dark tendrils of his black hair as I nodded in agreement with Rhys's sentiment.

"He's amazing," I said, my voice still hoarse from my cries of agony.

But, as our gazes lingered on our son, the overwhelming relief I felt outshined my earlier anguish—any I felt before this moment. All the worry that had grown over the last several months, all the pain I had just endured, now vanished the longer I held my son. As I touched his cheek with a tentative finger, my tattoos a stark contrast against his perfectly unblemished skin, I felt a new bond snap into place.

Rhys must've felt it too, because the kiss he pressed to my temple was tender before he whispered to Sebastian, "Cauldron save you, Mother hold you. I, High Lord of the Night Court, vow to shield you with my body, protect you with my sword," I saw his throat bob as he swallowed before carrying on. "And keep you in my heart. My son."

The tears I had been battling to hold back finally fell as he finished those sacred vows, identical to the words we exchanged when he swore me in as his High Lady. My mate pressed another kiss to my brow but didn't pull back as I met his silver-lined eyes.

"Thank you, Feyre darling," he murmured softly, brushing away my tears with his thumb.

I beamed in return, my throat still thick as I touched his face with my free hand and swept away his own tears. "I couldn't have done it without you, Rhysand," I whispered.

Sebastian mewled quietly from his place on my chest, his wailing having ceased shortly after being placed on my skin, my mate and I returned our attention to him; that all-too familiar gentle and soft glimmer pulsing through the bond that now connected the three of us in the flesh.

XXX

"We call it the Dawn of the North." Rhys began, both of us settled in bed, Sebastian covered in a light blanket and still curled up on my chest for the precious skin-to-skin contact the midwife deemed crucial for the first hour of his life.

In this first hour following the birth, my scent and touch was pivotal in aiding Sebastian's development and especially in triggering his first few instincts—nursing being the most important. It was also a vital part of the new and delicate mother-baby bond between us. So, after the midwife and Madja had cleared away the mess from the delivery and provided me with my own postpartum care; instructing me to rest and recuperate after the undertaking my body had just been through, Rhys joined my side in bed; making sure the warm blankets I had been draped and covered with remained intact. With an arm wrapped securely around my shoulders, he waved a hand, his magic turning the bed in the direction of the window opposite of us. When I met him with a questioning stare, he simply smiled and motioned to the window again; urging me to look for myself.

The sky was painted in delicate, rippling curtains of green and blue light. The stars shimmering as the veils of light transitioned from one color to the next; multiple hues ranging from pale green, to red, to pink, and varying shades of blue shining through as they moved in soft waves across the sky. Set against the mountain, Ramiel, those three stars that only appeared on rare occasions in our court now shone bright while the rest continued glimmering in the patterned light. The look of astonishment on my face caused Rhys to grin as he went on to explain its origin.

"In the ancient texts, it's said that one of the first elements that came into being was night. Nyx, the primordial, and often forgotten, goddess of night was the prelude to the creation of our world-to Prythian itself," Rhys continued, his fingers brushing along my shoulder gently as we stared out at the sky.

"She was rumored to have wings and was powerful enough to be both feared and idolized by the ancient beings of Prythian and the continent. One of the many stories I heard growing up was her love of flying. My mother used to tell me that whenever Nyx would take to the skies, she would rattle the stars just from the mighty flap of her wings as she soared through them. In the early hours of dawn that would follow, the sky would look like this," he went on, his hold around me tightening slightly.

"It could only be seen in the Northern territory of Prythian. When the lords and the courts came to be, the sky would shimmer like this almost every night, but like Starfall, it soon faded over time and became a rare occasion—only appearing the night a new heir to the Night Court was born...as a sign of Nyx's blessing and approval." Rhys finished with a smile, bringing a hand up to wipe at a tear I hadn't realized I shed.

"It's beautiful," I breathed as I turned my head to look at him. "So, it can't be seen in the other courts?" I asked, thinking of the snowfall that had appeared in all of the territories following Eira's birth and how it must have compared to the storm that ravaged the Winter court instead.

Rhys's grin was crooked as he shook his head. "It's exclusive to our court alone, but our allies are being treated to a shower of stars similar to Starfall, minus the spirits" he explained, his eyes returning to Sebastian as the newborn let out a small sigh.

I brushed my fingers along Sebastian's back lightly, afraid that anything more might cause him to disappear, or worse. Through the bond, I could feel Rhys's equal level of apprehensiveness.

"He almost doesn't seem real, does he?" I asked as I continued my feather-light touch along my son's spine.

Rhys shook his head. "I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not dreaming," he said. "That I have a son, here in the flesh, and it's not some cruel trick of illusion crafted by the Cauldron as punishment for my sins…"

My fingers halted before reaching over to grasp my mate's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He's real, Rhysand," I said softly. "Do you remember what I told you all those months ago? How our son, our little Bash, is the culmination of all the best parts of you; of all the good you've done and are?"

The silver lining his eyes returned as he brought his lips down to meet mine with gentle ease in a chaste kiss. "All because of you, Feyre darling," he responded, his voice barely above a whisper before he kissed me again.

I smiled as we pulled apart and turned startled eyes to our son as he let out a tiny grunt. "Do you disapprove of my affection towards your mother, Bash?" Rhys asked softly.

I saw his hand twitch as if he might reach out and touch him, but changed his mind at the last second. You can touch your son, Rhysand, I promise I won't bite.

My mate's chuckle was quiet, but I felt his lingering trepidation. "It's okay," I encouraged.

His throat bobbed as he reached a shaky hand out and placed it gently on the back of Sebastian's head—so tiny and frail in my mate's large hand. Sebastian remained unfazed, eyes still closed and breathing even, as Rhys brushed a thumb along the light wisps of his blue-black hair.

"He is so small," Rhys murmured, voice still thick with unshed tears as he admired our son up close. "His nose, his lips, his eyes...they are the tiniest I have ever seen in my entire existence."

"He's perfect," I echoed before leaning in to press a breath of a kiss to my son's brow.

Sebastian let out another soft sigh at the contact and twisted his head back slightly, prying his eyes open to meet mine and my heart nearly stopped as I stared back at him. Tears immediately sprang back into my eyes as I smiled.

"Hello Sebastian. It's me...it's mommy," I said, near sobbing. "I love you so much…"

Sebastian's eyes slipped back closed, head cradled in Rhys's hand, already spent from our short interaction. Rhys let out a shuddering breath as I turned to look at him, tears of joy still falling.

"I don't know how I'll ever thank you for this, Feyre," he said, shedding a few tears of his own. "For this gift, this life."

You don't ever have to, Rhysand. He is our son, our gift. I said through the bond.

He pulled me closer as he kissed me again, his brow lingering against mine as we relished in this new familial tie between us.

XXX

Once our uninterrupted hour had passed, Madja and the midwife knocked on the bedroom door, causing both of us to tense as I held onto Sebastian more securely and as Rhys sat up in the bed; wings appearing a second later and curling protectively around Sebastian and me. I laughed when I realized just how soon those feral instincts had kicked in for us and touched Rhys's arm gently.

"They aren't a threat, they're just our caregivers," I reminded him.

He nodded, tucking his wings back in as he called the healer and midwife in, but kept a hand on my back as they entered. The two females came to my side, Madja pulling back the blankets I had been covered with in order to survey my recovery—mostly making sure no post-delivery complications were arising as the midwife began instructing me on how to nurse Sebastian. Both Rhysand and I paid close attention to the midwife's direction, taking extra care to the details on how I should position him on my breast and where Rhys could help should the need arise.

It took a bit of maneuvering, including Sebastian's adorably furrowed brow that resembled my mate's own look of frustration and confusion, but he latched on and was suckling in a matter of minutes. The sensation was strange and foreign, but something deep inside of me warmed as I cradled him to my breast, running a finger along his cheek lightly as he nursed. That warmth turned to a deeper understanding of the love I had for my son, and pride in the fact that I was able to nourish him. I was enough—had been enough in order to grow him safely inside of me, and now had the ability to provide him the sustenance he needed to survive outside of my womb.

I was enough.

You have always been more than enough, Feyre darling

I gave my mate an amorous smile, realizing he had been watching me with a level of devotion I hadn't seen before sparkling in his violet eyes. His hand rubbed loving circles into my back as we turned our concentration back to the midwife, who gave us further instruction on the nursing protocol. I briefly recalled seeing Viviane nurse and thought of how easy she made the process look, but as the midwife explained that I needed to switch Sebastian between breasts every so often and make sure he burped in between the feedings that would take place every few hours; all the while taking care of myself during my own convalescence, I couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed.

As if she could read my thoughts, Madja placed a comforting hand over mine. "It may seem like an impossible task now, my lady, but we will help you get accustomed and make sure all of your health needs are met," she said.

The midwife nodded in agreement, and so did Rhysand as he stroked the length of my shoulder. "You know you have plenty of support, my love," he said, and I knew he didn't just mean himself or the midwives.

We had our friends, a whole family, waiting for us back in Velaris once Sebastian and I were strong enough to go back. I stared at my newborn babe, wondering how they might react when they first laid eyes on him—only to be surprised when just the thought alone made me recoil, a sense of panic rising in me. Rhys chuckled at my plight, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Welcome to my world, Feyre darling," he teased. "Having that irrational, primal urge to keep him away, protected from everyone else, is akin to what I felt when our bond snapped into place."

I blinked; my instincts much further along than I earlier realized. "It's so odd," I mused. "I couldn't wait to introduce him to our family before, but now?"

I looked at Sebastian again as he suckled sleepily and rubbed his cheek gently in order to coax him awake. "I don't think I can let them anywhere near him yet," I admitted.

The midwife offered an empathetic smile while Madja laughed. "That is normal, my Lady, and will go away, to a degree, with time," she reassured.

"We should tell them though," I said to Rhys. "Let them know that he's here, and that we're both safe and healthy."

Rhys gestured to the window, the sky still painted with sparkling veils of pale blues and greens. "They know," he said. "I sent them a message via Az shortly after this appeared in the sky."

I sighed contentedly as I stared at the beauty of it, imagining what color paints I would need to mix in order to achieve those specific hues and what size canvas I would need. Nyx's flight I would call it, in honor of the ancient night goddess and my son's birth.

The midwife and Madja left after Sebastian completed his first successful session of nursing, wherein I reluctantly handed him over to their care for his first wellness examination. The midwife weighed and measured him, tested his reflexes and checked his overall wellbeing, all without much complaint from him as Rhys remained close to his side and talked him through the duration of the exam in soft murmurs. I watched from my place on the bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows after Madja performed her own examination of me and wiped my sweaty body clean with a warm damp towel. The magic of the Cabin presented a new shift at the foot of the bed, and the healer helped me change into that as well before helping me settle back into my semi-sitting position.

My eyes stung as I watched the midwife instruct Rhysand on how to properly place and secure a nappy on our son, before offering to show him how to properly swaddle a newborn babe. I saw my mate's enthusiastic nod, realizing he'd get to hold our son for the first time during the demonstration, and glanced in my direction for approval.

I can't do all the work, now can I? I teased through the bond.

His answering smile was just as warm as mine before he set about his task, the midwife only correcting his technique once before Rhys lifted and cradled the babe in his arms. The bundle that was now Sebastian looked impossibly tiny in my mates muscled arms; the Illyrian warrior, the High Lord of the Night Court, now enveloping his newborn son—the son he never thought he'd have, or deserved. I wiped the tears that spilled over as the older females dismissed themselves, and Rhys crossed back over to my bedside, eyes never leaving Sebastian's face as he stood. My heart squeezed as Rhys brought a hand to touch Sebastian's cheek hesitantly, his eyes growing silver lined as he marveled at our son.

"I don't think I'll ever grow tired of this feeling," Rhys murmured, gaze returning to mine.

"No, I don't think we will," I agreed, resting my head back against a pillow as I watched him.

Rhys paused, realizing. "Do you want him back?" he asked, knowing full-well that my maternal instincts were in full effect.

I shook my head. "I love seeing him in your arms Rhysand," I said. "I don't want you to leave my sight while you have him, but after months of imagining what it might look like to see you hold him...I can't picture anything better."

My mate softened at the sentiment before returning his gaze to Sebastian. "We better enjoy this time together while we still have it Bash, before your mother keeps you all to herself," he joked with a wink at me.

"I hope you warned the others," I quipped, a sleepy smile on my face as I watched Rhys make a small lap around the room, staying in close proximity to the bed.

"Mor and Cassian are already begging to come up here first thing in the morning, but Azriel, Amren and Nesta are keeping them leashed."

My laugh was quiet as I thought of their eagerness, but in reality, they all knew that it would be a while before they could be properly introduced to the newest addition of the inner circle. The midwife explained that the newborn bond was the most intense during the first week, and though I wouldn't be completely healed for another five following, we would at least be able to invite our family to meet Sebastian without the overwhelming need to safeguard him threatening to consume us and bare our teeth at our loved ones.

"They are going to love him," I said as I continued watching him move around the room, eyes growing heavier and heavier with the need to sleep.

Rhys heard the exhaustion in my voice and offered a sympathetic smirk as those adoring violet eyes turned to me. "You should sleep, my love, you've more than earned it after your efforts," he said.

I turned weary eyes to the bundle in his arms and he chuckled. "You can trust I won't leave your side, or even this room."

"I know," I said with a long yawn as he crossed back over to my side, taking a seat on the small space provided on the edge of the bed.

"I'll stay right here while you sleep," Rhys promised. "I think I can placate him until his next feeding."

I grinned languidly. "It can't be too hard if he continues to sleep like this," I said, glancing at Sebastian, who had fallen asleep almost immediately after being secured in his swaddle.

"My thoughts exactly, Feyre darling," he purred.

I was too exhausted to laugh, and instead brushed my fingers along Sebastian's cheek as he remained at peace in his father's arms. My heart squeezing as the full weight of realization hit, that our son was being held by Rhysand—his father.

To the stars who listen,

I brought my hand to his and squeezed it as his words echoed through our bond, both of us sharing a tender smile before admiring the sleeping bundle in his arms once again.

And the dreams that are answered.

[riorsonxaden]

Trickery of Snow

Illyrianwitchling's Holidrabble

Day 4 For: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @clockworkgraystairs ❤❤❤❤

Prompts: Jurdan + "You look even more beautiful covered in snow" & Snowball fights "I'm going to get you back for that, [name]!!

A/N: sorry if I clog your feed loves! Until I get my laptop, I can only post via mobile. I'll be be too busy the following week to back track drabbles. I'll fix it as soon as I can. Anyway enjoy!

Masterlist

Cardan stood alongside Oak. Against the bark of an aged tree. Its limbs barren due to the frigid winter of the mortal world. True in Elfhame, they had "winters" where a slight chill swept through the lands and a little snow dust over the earth. The snow there however, more reminiscent of powdered sugar on doughnuts instead of actual snow.

Yet here in the Mortal lands, there was a stark difference. What was once covered in dirt and grass the brightest greens is now blanketed thickly in a shimmering white. Enough to the point, they had specialty shoes and garments for the weather. 

It took Cardan some time to get used to these puffy coats, his in black, of course, and the awkward heavy boots. Snowshoes, he remembered Jude telling him. For a while, he couldn't fathom why anyone would willingly go outside in this icy weather. The idea of sitting in warmth, in freeing clothes, a hearth alight with embers, and mulled wine sounded much his style than...snow.

Until now, this fight, for lack of a better term, was intriguing. If only for the thrill of competition. 

They busied themselves, making as many snowballs as possible before Jude finds them. Oak was somewhat surprised with how quick Cardan became at making them. Within minutes, both had eight each, tucked securely within the pocket of their hoodies.

"Ready?" Oak’s tone laced with amusement, a grin on his youthful features, "and remember," he said, crouching into the snow a gloved palm keeping his arsenal steady, "Don't hit me."

"I do know what a team is," Cardan replied as if offended—repeating the movement.

They sat behind the tree listening for Jude. Sure, since joining The Court of Shadows, she mastered the art of slyfooting. Here with the heavy fall of snow, Cardan picked up her footsteps quickly. It wasn't as loud as, say, Vivienne or Heather. Jude's steps were softer, lighter, yet there's a subtle crunch on the floor when she moved. Like the one Cardan heard a second ago. 

Oak seemed to notice the High King's reaction. Keeping his eyes and ears alert for his sister and turning to look at Cardan, pointing to himself and the left. Then Cardan and the right. The High King nodded.

"Be quick and keep low to the ground," Oak hissed.

"This is our third round of snowball. I assure you, Oak. I know the rules." Cardan replied a bit harsher than intended.

"Well, we lost the last two," Oak grumbled. 

Cardan scowled, watching him sneak off to the left side, hiding behind another tree. Before surveying the area. Looking out for his wife, he knew lurked by. 

The High King briskly moved from tree to tree. Stopping at each trunk to listen. The feather-light crunch of boots on snow guiding his way. A few minutes passed, he wasn't sure if this is working. Cardan spoke a moment too soon. Unexpectedly, Jude appeared, prowling the forest, snowball in hand, heading to Oak's location. Cardan smirked with a hint of playfulness, quietly following his wife. The Ghost trained Jude how to listen and track faerie. Cardan took every step with caution. Careful to not step on any loose branches. Keeping close to trees and inching as close as he dared to.

He caught a movement from behind a tree standing at the edge of a clearing. Immediately Cardan knew it was Oak; to his disadvantage, so did Jude. Of course, she would. Lethal, beautiful, and intelligent, he would've felt pride in his scabrous heart, had it not been for his teammate she was sprinting towards. Cardan darted in between the barren trees. Adrenaline pumping through his veins as he closed in on his wife, his darling god.

Taking a snowball from the pocket of his hoodie, Cardan pulled his arm back and swung. Watching with half-closed eyes as the rounded ball of snow soared through the sky, striking Jude on the back of the head. Glistening snow crashed against her free-flowing tresses. Like melting snow on the earthy floor. He found it striking in appearance

Jude stilled, turning gradually towards him, with a wicked glint in her eyes, stepping towards her husband.

“Three rounds and you finally landed a hit,” her steps were calculating, assessing him silently as she moved around. “I’m proud of you, husband.”

“Well, my dearest Jude, a slow learner, still learns,” he quipped, trying not to watch Oak in the back sneaking up to her. 

Unfortunately, Cardan did give his nephew away. As Jude turned, Cardan shouted, “now!” 

In rapid succession, Oak threw snowball after snowball at Jude. Cardan joined in, racing up to them, unleashing his entire stock on her. In one moment, Cardan stood tall, then another, his legs were kicked beneath him. He was falling into the soft snow below. Jude straddled him, hips over hips.

She leaned in, kissing the top of his ear, "I'm going to get you back for that Cardan." A promise, a threat, perhaps both. With Jude, one could never be too sure.

He only smiled up at her, all the confidence in the world on his smug expression, "Get me back how?"

Kissing him sweetly ignoring Oak's blatant disgust at her public display, before she spoke, "like this," his wife reached into the snow next to him, dropping the pile on his face. Cardan shook it all away. Hearing both Jude and Oak laughing at. 

"Really, Jude?"

"Does it help if I tell you, you look even more beautiful covered in snow." She laughed, like the sweetest of wines. 

"As much as I appreciate the comment, my sweet villain, I look beautiful everywhere and in everything."

"Ugh!" Shoving him into the snow and ice, "you're such an ass. Come on, Oak. Round four, you're with me."

Oak whooped and cheered, being on a team with Jude. Cardan gaped on in disbelief as the two walked away from view.

"I should've stayed inside with the mulled wine."

Tag list: @jurdanhell@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @hizqueen4life @clockworkgraystairs @b00kworm ​ @negativenesta ​ @sjm-things ​​ @whataboutmyfries ​​ @justgiu12 ​​ @illyrian-bookworm ​​ @thesirenwashere ​​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn ​​ @nightbringer @vanessa172003 ​​ @thewickedkings ​​ @sleeping-and-books ​​ @thefolkofthefic ​​ @yafandomsdotnet ​​ @alittledribbledrabble ​ @iminsanenotobsessed ​ @theoceanfaewriter @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves @figuredihadanodustollensofalife ​ @awkward-avocado-s @maastrash @knifewifejude @st00pid231 @elide-lochan-salvaterre @gisellefigue08 @pcarnatio @wanderingjpg @bookishwitchling @sayosdreams @flintandtinder @starborn-faerie-queen @hopefullyanauthor @junipersuns @thewayshedreamed @hopefullyanauthor @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @blade-given-form @perseusannabeth @notanapostatemage @danaanruhn @thegoddessofyou @swankii-art-teacher @nestable @darlinminds

[meyeselph]

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

--

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

--

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

--

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

��The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

--

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

--

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

[yeti-the-infinity]

hanami

matchaloveblossom - founder's trio festival day 1

Kojiro and Kaoru were from respectable families themselves once upon a time, but even back then they had not been permitted to visit Adam’s family estate due to the fact that they were pierced up, loud-mouthed, skateboarding hoodlums that had once landed a teenaged Ainosuke in a holding cell for an hour and twenty-three minutes.

It’s part of the reason they eventually agree to Adam’s invitation. The other parts being that 1.) Adam will not stop asking, 2.) they are trying to give Adam a second chance, and 3.) they want to see what he’s planning.

Adam spends the better part of the first hour of their visit leading Kojiro and Kaoru on a tour of the Shindo estate’s sprawling gardens. He lists off the names and meanings of flora and fauna like poetry before leading them across a stream over a whimsically ivy-hung stone bridge and into a grove of vibrant, sweet-smelling cherry blossom trees.

As Adam steers them both by the arm into a small clearing, they set eyes on a large blanket sprawled across unnaturally healthy grass. A hefty picnic basket weighs the center of the blanket down, with a bottle of a wine poking out of its top, and a cat has settled itself just beside this, snoozing in the warm, breezy afternoon.

“Well, isn’t this fucking adorable,” Kojiro croons, the first to settle on the blanket, kneeling, one leg stuck out as he pops open the basket and peers inside. “Did you do all this yourself, Adam?”

Kaoru recognizes that Kojiro’s gauging how much effort Adam put into this versus Adam’s servants, trying to understand how much this gesture matters.

“Yes.” Adam shoos the cat away with a feign of his boot and a canine snarl and then lowers himself gracefully onto the blanket as if he hadn’t. He sprawls onto his back, not unlike the cat had been sleeping, and crosses his arms. Kojiro catches but ignores the mild glare he receives before lifting small containers of strawberries, cherries, and sliced peaches out of the basket and retrieving three stemless wine glasses.

“Not all of us went to culinary school, sweetheart,” Adam drawls and kicks at Kojiro’s thigh across the blanket. “You could at least pretend to be impressed. Wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings.” He pulls a long face, his hands flutter over his heart, and Kojiro snorts.

Adam turns toward the shadow stretching above him and reaches out both hands, his long fingers callused for an aristocrat’s, but clean. “Sweet, delicate, Cherry Blossom, will you kiss my feelings better? You like it don’t you?”

Kaoru smothers an indulgent smile with the back of his hand and makes a show of surveying the picturesque, sugar-scented, sunny grove, with its swaying pink trees. Petals drift on the wind like fresh, warm snow, and Kaoru’s always been partial to the trees he had been nicknamed after, even if sweet, delicate cherry blossom had once been an ironic title given to a teenager who enjoyed getting into brawls and beefs and generally didn’t lose them.

It’s difficult to argue that the scene is not idyllic.

“It is very beautiful here…” he allows, his eyes gradually drifting back down to Adam and Kojiro, sprawled comfortably on the blanket. They look fairly idyllic themselves, well-dressed, casual, relaxed. Kojiro with his sleeves rolled up, to show off his absurd muscles as he pours out a Riesling, liberally as always, and Adam licking sugar from a strawberry a little too slowly. “And I see you brought wine, so, I’d say I’m content.” Kaoru lifts his sandal delicately onto the edge of the blanket, feeling for rocks underneath. The garden is immaculately manicured and all is smooth as he folds himself neatly by Adam’s legs. “Although, I didn’t expect we’d be roughing it…”

“Hm.” Adam’s hum stretches too long, his smile a little nasty as he rises to sit, the better to hold his wine glass—the better to reach out with his free hand to run his thumb across Kaoru’s cheek, just before pinching it. “You must be misremembering my proclivities.”

Kaoru snaps teasingly at Adam’s fingers with his teeth—he knows better than to rap at them with his fan—and Adam retracts them with a smug smile, as Kaoru mutters, “I remember them just fine.”

Kojiro pretends to ignore their antics, his eyes shifting from the trees to the picnic arrangement, drawing both of their gazes as he replies to Adam as if he hadn’t paused, “No, he’s right. It’s… nice… Just not exactly your usual fare.”

Adam holds Kojiro’s stare for a moment in recognition of the challenge in it. Kojiro seems to both tease and approve of Adam’s softness at once and it makes Kaoru’s stomach flutter faintly.

Adam breaks the gaze with a downward glance and then sighs. “Mm, yes, well,” he tilts his glass, making the wine swish, “my therapist might have suggested it.” Adam’s gaze shifts to Kaoru, because Kaoru asks more often, “And I do rather like this one. I think I’ll continue courting her a while…”

“You have your therapist giving you dating advice now?” Kaoru bats back, the muscles of his jaw stiffening.

“Not exactly,” Adam dodges and frowns back, fine lines between his brows, and leans forward to smooth Kaoru’s hair and give him his wine glass, since Kojiro had been distracted from pouring a third. “Relax. There you are, pet.”

Kaoru’s lip juts out, eyes narrowing, and he gives Adam’s shoulder the mildest of bats with the back of his hand. “I am not your pet.”

“No, of course not,” Adam sings, fond yet dismissive. He looks perfectly aware he has the upper hand as Kaoru accepts the glass and leans unconsciously into another caress of Adam’s palm, also callused, against Kaoru’s cheek. Kaoru’s skin is faintly pink from the blatant attention, and Adam wonders dimly and not for the first time if that’s why Cherry Blossom really wears a mask.

Kaoru swats Adam’s palm away when he lingers too long, but Kaoru does not flit his golden eyes away from the ruby ones that stare longer.

“You’re our beautiful Cherry Blossom,” Adam sings.

Kaoru can see Adam’s eyes flicker with devilry as his lip curls. “Joe’s our pet.”

Kojiro grunts an objection. “Come say that to my face why don’t you?” he challenges from over Adam’s shoulder, smiling and rising up to his haunches, all rippling muscle.

“You are our tiger,” Adam flirts, pleased with the response, crawling across the blanket on all fours, with more catlike elegance than either of the other two. “Big, strong, fiercely protective. Overly fond of very bold prints.” Adam reaches his target, and Kojiro leans back to let Adam climb into his lap. Adam sportingly tugs open the collar of Kojiro’s loud sky-blue shirt with its pattern of palm leaves, as he straddles Adam’s thighs.

Kojiro laughs, bright and overwhelming as direct sunlight, as Adam rests one hand on his collar bone. The other plucks one of the various blossoms Adam had collected in his coat pocket earlier and tucks it prettily behind Kojiro’s ear, smoothing back green curls with his thumb. “A tiger lily for a tiger man.”

Kojiro bares his teeth at Adam with a sly smirk, and then his eyes shift Kaoru’s way, smile warming, tone mocking, “I’ll take that over gorillaany day.”

Kaoru rolls his eyes, sips at the wine, and watches Kojiro’s brawny arms wrapping Adam’s broad chest as Adam shifts in his lap to watch Kaoru. Heat rises under Kaoru’s skin, and he feels a bit like a steaming up kettle as he exhales slowly.

“And how does your therapist feel about your fascination with pet play?” Kaoru counters, closing his eyes to better appreciate the feeling of the sun with its fuzzy pink cherry blossom glow heating the bare skin of his cheeks, neck, ankles…

All the sun, of course, he tells himself.

“Need I remind you your skateboard calls you Master, darling?” Adam counters quickly enough that he may have had the comment on standby for just such an occasion.

“I…” Kaoru grimaces.

“Yeah, wait a second.”

Kaoru finds himself saved by Kojiro who wraps his hands around Adam’s which have absconded with Kojiro’s wine glass and is lifting it daintily to his lips.

“What exactly are you focusing these sessions on, Adam,” Kojiro echoes, “that led to sappy, romantic picnic?”

“Oh, the usual.” Adam gives an exaggerated eye roll, ruffles his own hair in mild exasperation. “We’ve been talking about healthy outlets: ways to relax, destress, let off some steam without…” Adam swishes his hand in a euphemistic circle, “maiming anybody.”

Kaoru tenses, eyes flickering open and finding Kojiro’s already on him, soft with concern. Adam is oblivious, head leaned back on Kojiro’s shoulder, watching the flowers above shift and shimmer in the breeze like a mirage. Adam’s hand shifts restlessly with his explanation, “Not an entirely fruitless effort, I suppose. Recently, I’ve been experimenting with yoga and the sacred art of meditation, and my therapist suggested hanami.”

Kaoru’s shoulders relax again hearing him sound so comfortable with such formerly foreign concepts.

“Meditating and connecting with nature, huh?” Kojiro’s hands have wandered from Adam’s arms to his chest, roaming with a thoughtless kind of ease. “Well, look who’s turning over a new leaf.”

“Everyone could do with taking a little time to stop and view the cherry blossoms,” Kaoru says, voice unusually soft, shifting closer to the center of the blanket, where the basket had been. Petals polka dot the warm fabric, and Kaoru scoops up a handful, leaning forward to lift them over Adam’s head. “Here, let me help you appreciate them properly.” They flutter down his face and broad chest, catching on his hair, his cheek, his lip.

“Full of yourself, are you?” Kojiro teases, flicking a few petals from Adam’s shoulder.

“I deserve it,” Kaoru counters, eyes still focused solely on Adam’s.

Adam chuckles quietly, as Kaoru touches the petal sticking to his lip, and then Adam kisses his palm and wraps his wrist in his hand.

“Not just view them, Cher,” Adam purrs, “breath them in, admire them, meditate with them, worship them… and I thought…” Adam sets down his glass and reaches for Kojiro’s wrist, drawing Kaoru and Kojiro’s hands together, watching their fingers intertwine.

Kojiro’s grip is firm and Kaoru’s tightens to match it. Their eyes meet, always, Adam observes, with that sharp sizzle of tension and the thick underlying glow of trust.

Adam eases himself off of Kojiro’s lap, squeezes their wrists and releases them. “…Who would know more about viewing Cherry Blossom in all his glory than you, Kojiro?”

“My glory?” Kaoru smirks but his eyes flicker nervously between them, his fingers twitching. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

Kaoru watches Kojiro’s pupils dilate as a smooth, confident smirk slides across his face, his expression beginning to mirror Adam’s.

Kojiro’s knuckles bump Adam’s shoulder. “You know I never pass up a chance to show off.”

Adam reaches to the shoulder and begins to shrug off his suit jacket. “I’m going to have to insist that you do. For my therapy.”

Kaoru’s scoff catches in his throat and his voice comes out a little thin, “Need I remind the two of you,” Kaoru pauses as Kojiro lifts their folded hands and kisses the inside of his wrist, and Adam crawls to kneel at Kaoru’s back, his hands settling possessively on Kaoru’s shoulder blades, “where we are right now…?”

“In a grove of sweet, ripe cherry blossoms…” Adam’s fingers knead hard into Kaoru’s back, and Kaoru can’t help but lean into the warm, certain attention.

Kaoru’s head rests against Adam’s slow, steady heartbeat, his chin tilting up as Adam’s face draws closer. Kaoru can feel Kojiro’s lips pressing and nipping their way up his arm, drawing the flowy fabric of his sleeve up to his shoulder. “Ah…”

“Flowers waiting to be outshone by a more…” Adam whispers, his tongue tracing Kaoru’s lips before Kaoru leans up to close the distance. Adam’s kiss is firm but brief. “… superior specimen…”

Kaoru feels a faint pinch in his bicep and a low pained noise comes from Kojiro’s direction. Kojiro watches a string of saliva pass between their lips, before the distance closes again with a muffled squeak from Kaoru that might have been inspired by Adam’s teeth or Kojiro’s hands dropping to wrap Kaoru’s slender, muscular thighs, effortlessly easing them up onto Kojiro’s thick, stony ones.

“Ko… Kojiro,” Kaoru scolds, voice thin, half-breathless, hand reaching out and grabbing blindly for Kojiro’s arm, as the hands slide slow and hot up his thighs. “You big, thirsty galoot—” The heels of his palms trace the grooves of Kaoru’s hips on their assent toward the belt of his trousers. “We’re out-outside…mm.”

Adam’s fingers press briefly to Kaoru’s lips.

“Hm, so, what?” Kojiro purrs, his massage spurred on by the way Kaoru melts and rises against his hands.

“On private property…” Adam tacks on, sliding his chest down Kaoru’s back and wrapping Kaoru’s hair around his hand. “You said you’d help me appreciate you properly.” Adam’s lips find the back of his neck and Kaoru’s eyes flutter half shut. “Let us appreciate you, Kaoru. All of you.”

“I have not had enough wine,” Kaoru insists smooth and articulate as ever, leaning the back of his neck into Adam’s teeth, sliding his hands along the muscles of Joe’s upper arms, “to take off all my clothes in the middle of your garden, in the middle of the day…” Although the thought of skateboard rough hands on his bare skin makes him sound increasingly less certain with every breath. “Why don’t you ask Six Pack Joe here?”

“I can get you more wine,” Adam muses into the nape of Kaoru’s neck, and gets swatted in the shoulder by Kojiro for his trouble.

“You spend so much time appreciating my muscles,” Kojiro answers, and Kaoru watches Kojiro’s tan arms stretch as he grasps the collar of Kaoru’s shirt. “Maybe I just want to return the favor, Lord Cherry. What, too intimidated?”

“Our tiger’s muscles might be intimidating, but you’re captivating in your own right. I’ve seen you at S and on the news. People line up to see you too.” Adam’s hands wrap Kaoru’s stomach and reach toward the lower buttons of his shirt, as Kojiro’s thumb presses in on the top one. “What are you so afraid of, Master Cherry?”

“I’m not intimidated by you, musclehead,” Kaoru leans forward to butt his forehead against Kojiro’s, the challenge straining his face slipping into a more thoughtful expression as he worries his lip, “I suppose I’m just afraid the three of us, the two of you, are too good to be true. But…”

He realizes Kojiro and Adam have gone still. Their playful expressions hardening with concern, maybe guilt, and it’s contagious.

Kaoru shakes his head, feeling the light delicious pull of his hair against Adam’s immobile hand. “I don’t want to feel that way anymore.” He meets Kojiro’s eyes and burrows further into Adam’s chest, “I want to let you see all of me, touch all of me, have…” “We’ve got you, Kaoru,” Kojiro leans forward to brush their lips together carefully.

“There’s no safer place in the world…” Adam’s tone is half comfort half-threat, as he presses his lips to the back of Kaoru’s neck once more and begins to pluck open the bottom of Kaoru’s shirt. His touch is almost unfamiliar, his palm smoothing over Kaoru’s abs careful as if he’s cradling a flower blossom. “Yes, I know.” Kaoru closes his eyes, giving into the friction of their hands, feeling the warm air on his chest mingle with the damp, mind-dazzling softness of their lips, their kisses falling everywhere like petals. “I trust you.”

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH8

<8> Battle Between Rivals

"Hmm, I don't get it..." In the Riviera HQ corridor, Joker tilted his head.

"Same here. Should we do a magic square or rock-paper-scissors like we did before?" Beside him, Hachi tossed out a random guess.

"The magic square and rock-paper-scissors... Ohh! I know!" Joker suddenly exclaimed.

"Joker-san, did you figure it out?"

"Yep, thanks to your hint. You have to combine the magic square and rock-paper-scissors for this puzzle. We just have to work out which one wins every time when going horizontally, vertically, and diagonally!"

"Really?" Hachi examined the numbers.

Joker took out a notepad from his pocket and copied down the 16 numbers. "First, going vertical. The leftmost column is {5, 0, 0, 0}, which works out to paper, rock, rock, rock. Paper wins. That means all the 0s lose," Joker said and crossed out the three 0s.

"Next is the second column. This is {2, 5, 2, 5}, making it scissors, paper, scissors, paper. Scissors wins here, so the 5s lose," said Joker, crossing out the two 5s. "Do the same for the third and fourth columns and X out the rest like this, see?" Joker crossed out the 2s in the third column and the 5s in the fourth column.

"I get it. So any of the numbers that lose here aren't the one we're looking for, right?"

"Yeah. Now go horizontally. Do the same rock-paper-scissors conversions we did with the columns, and..." He went across the rows crossing out one number after another, and in no time, there were only two numbers left out of the sixteen. The other fourteen were all crossed out. The remaining numbers were the 2 in the top row, rightmost column, and the 2 in the second column.

"Which of these two is stronger?" asked Hachi.

Joker puffed up as he answered. "There's still the diagonals, right? The line going from the top-right to the bottom-left is {2, 0, 2, 0}, rocks and scissors, so the scissors lose!" Joker crossed out the top-right 2 last of all.

"Which means..."

"Right. The 2 in the top row, second from the left, is the 'number that doesn't lose'!"

"I see now. That was incredible, Joker-san!"

"I got it because of your hint, you know. All right, time to push the button!"

"Okay! Right on!" Hachi jumped up and pushed the "2" button. There was a low beep, and then the clang of something unlocking. The door slowly opened, revealing the door of the safe holding the Riviera recipe behind it. It certainly looked like a sturdy door.

"Let's get to opening this thing up!" Joker pulled a giant electric saw out of hammerspace.

"Joker-san, what's that...?"

"Hm? This baby can crack open any door or safe. It's my custom Joker electric saw!"

"Then couldn't you just have used that from the start!?"

"Ha ha, now that wouldn't be any fun. A phantom thief uses his brain wherever possible when breaking in." Joker smiled from ear to ear, just before hitting the electric saw's power switch. After a LOT of noise and rattling, the safe was quite literally busted open.

Joker fished the recipe page out of the safe where it had been kept. But he didn't exactly look pleased. "Sheesh, what a letdown. And here I thought I'd finally get back at him for what happened with the Crimson Crystal."

What he said confused Hachi. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"This is where Noir works."

"Whaaat!? Really!?"

Joker picked up an empty popcorn bag off the ground and started to explain. "Yeah. After Noir quit being a spy, he ended up in charge of security at Riviera HQ. If you wanna protect an international secret, get yourself an international spy."

"That makes sense. So he got a job where he could put his spy skills to use... But then why is Noir not around? It's unsettling how there's nothing here."

"You've got that right. I thought sure he'd have a trap set..."

They looked around at the safe room again. It was stark empty, not even a desk or table in sight. Save for a small security camera in one corner, there didn't seem to be much of a security system at all.

"Well, whatever. Let's blow this joint."

Joker and Hachi were just about to leave, when...

The door that they had just come in through budged.

"It's gotta be Noir...!" Joker reflexively pulled out his cards. But the one who came in wasn't the person he had expected.

"Spade!"

"Spade-san!"

Right in front of their eyes were Spade and Dark Eye, who had opened the last door and entered the safe room. They looked surprised to see Joker and Hachi as well.

"Joker!?"

"Kyo kyo kyo!"

"Spade, what are you here for?""

"I could ask you the same thing? Wait, what about Noir...?" Spade asked, darting his eyes around. Apparently Spade had also learned about Noir's link to this place and had come to steal the treasure.

"He's not here. You were a step too late, besides. The 'Riviera Recipe' is mine!" Joker dangled the recipe page and waved it about.

"...Oh, so that's what you were after. Where's Noir? There's something I have to return to him," Spade said, taking an object out of his pocket.

When he saw what it was, Joker was shocked. "That's my Crimson Crystal!"

Spade held up the bright red gemstone and turned up the corners of his lips. "That's right. Noir left it with me because he wanted me to return it to you. But my pride won't let me do that."

"Pride? What exactly did Noir tell you?"

"Well..." Spade clammed up. Noir had said something that injured his pride, no doubt about it. Joker had some idea of what it was. Noir had stolen his treasure.

Then, realizing something, Spade inhaled sharply. "Now I get it. This is Noir's strategy."

"Strategy?"

"He damaged our psyche and provoked our anger, all so that we would come across each other like this."

"You mean he knew that we'd come here?"

"Yes, exactly. And we each have the treasure that the other wants..." Spade's gaze focused on the recipe in Joker's hand. He probably also wanted the recipe so he could put Noir to shame. And in Spade's hand was the Crimson Crystal which Joker had stolen from Kaneari. The two of them stared each other down.

"Joker, this is a great opportunity. How about whoever wins gets the other's treasure?" Spade shot an incendiary look at Joker. He recalled what Noir had said: "Go ahead and chase behind Joker forever..." I'll prove him wrong...!

Joker whipped out his cards and readied himself as well. "Fine by me. Let's do this, Spade!"

"Here I come, Joker!" Spade swiftly unholstered his Ice Shot and aimed it.

A low bellow droned through the dark sky. An enormous ship floated upon the endless night ocean. It was one of the world's most luxurious passenger crafts, Urban of the Sea. The ship, which was 3000 meters long, housed over 1000 guest rooms as well as all kinds of recreational facilities. With its own pool, restaurant, theater, multiple liquor lounges, an ice-skating rink, and even a rock-climbing wall, it was like an entire city stuffed onto a boat. It hosted over 3000 passengers per voyage and visited tourist destinations all over the world.

Tonight, this enormous ship was filled with silence.

The ship had been rented out to VIPs from the Kingdom of Lachla. These VIPs were staying in the best guest room there was, and it was in this room that the Lachla Crown was being kept under heavy security.

This guest room was near the fore of the ship. Spaced away from it, at the aft of the ship, was a huge structure. Though "huge" is an understatement — it was as tall as a five-story building. This cabin, with its obtuse angles, curved up to a circular floor at the top. It was meant as an observatory deck where one could survey the outside scenery. A man stood atop the observatory deck, his black cape fluttering. It was Noir. He was quietly awaiting Silver Heart. Soon, I can have my long-awaited revenge...

"So you're here..." murmured Noir, sensing a presence. A man had come up behind him. His white double-breasted suit was smartly buttoned, and his silver cape fluttered. His straight, upright bearing hardly suggested his age. This was the legendary phantom thief, Silver Heart!

"It's been a long time, Noir."

"Yes. I wanted to see you, Silver... or rather, you're Silver Heart now, aren't you?"

Strangely enough, Silver Heart didn't feel at all wistful as he observed Noir. He had certainly aged, but Noir's face hadn't lost the keenness from when he had known him as a spy. Silver Heart glared at Noir. "I heard, Noir. So you've become a phantom thief."

"Yes, I retired from being a spy. Because of you. Now I'm the head of security for a beverage manufacturer."

"Because of me?"

"You heard me. You ran away from me and kept being a thorn in my side..."

"You're right. I was probably running away from you... from my responsibilities as a spy. I couldn't put up with the ruthlessness of it anymore. I couldn't become as cold-blooded as you..."

"Heh heh heh, are you so sure that's the case?"

"What...?" Silver Heart continued to stare down Noir.

"We'll fight once more, with you as cold-blooded as you once were. Whoever wins the match can take the Lachla Crown," said Noir. He pulled the cloth off a table set up on the deck. Lying upon it was a crown studded with brilliant jewels. Noir had already stolen the Lachla Crown!

"I've already put the Lachlans to sleep. If you want this, you have to steal it from me."

"So that's what you're after..."

"This brings me back... you and I once infiltrated Lachla in order to destroy this. But it was your fault that the plan went awry. Now that I think about it, we've been at odds ever since..." Noir mused, his eyes focused on the crown.

But Silver Heart lowered his voice and spoke. "I will never again be like I was. There's not an ounce of spy left in me."

"Heh heh heh, humans don't ever really change. You're a cold-blooded spy. And if you aren't, you'll never be able to win against me..."

"That's not true. I'm going to fight against you as a phantom thief." Silver faced back to Noir and strengthened his grip on his rod. "Noir, our long-overdue reunion wasn't so emotional after all..."

"I expected as much. Here I come, Silver!" Not even a moment later, Noir kicked off the ground and lunged at Silver Heart.

The floor split open with a bang, and Joker and Spade plummeted down towards the floor below.

"Joker-san!"

"Kyo kyo, Spade-sama!"

Hachi and Dark Eye peeked down over the edge to see them lying on the ground, still squabbling with each other. The lower floor was a recreational sports center with a pool, exercise machines, a running track, and more. They let each other go, took their distance, and stood off against each other.

"Been a while since I fought you like this, Spade."

"Yes, but that's because you never take me seriously."

"Not true!" Joker took an advance notice card out of his pocket and quickly scribbled something on it. "Spade, I'm gonna take the treasure from you, no two ways about it!"

"Heh heh heh, now that's more like it. Then we'll face off in a minute-long match, like the one you lost to Noir in."

"Ghh..." Joker bit his lip bitterly. So Spade had known about Joker and Noir's match after all. "All right. I'll steal the treasure from you in one minute, no more than that!"

"And if you can't?"

"I can!" Joker pulled cards out of his breast pocket and threw them at Spade. "Emblem Fire!" The cards caught fire one by one and flew straight towards Spade.

"Ice Shot!" Spade used his Ice Shot to closely target and freeze the cards.

"Not bad! Emblem Fire!" Joker tossed more cards out. A flurry of cards scattered to every corner of the room, sticking into the walls and sinking into the pool. While Spade was shooting down the cards that were coming his way, Joker jumped to the side. He flipped around and leapt toward Spade. Once he was in front of him, he fanned out his cards. "Straight Flash!"

"Not good enough! Ice Shot Mirror!" Spade spun his Ice Shot around and made a small mirror of ice in midair. It reflected the light from the Straight Flash, blinding Joker.

"Gwah!"

"Ha ha ha! Your attacks are so repetitive!" Spade froze the pool with his Ice Shot, slid the blades out of his shoes, and skated onto the makeshift rink. "Catch me if you can!"

"Gah! Says the guy who only ever uses Ice Shot!"

Going after Spade, Joker stepped onto the makeshift rink. But he slipped and fell right onto his back with a magnificent thud. "Owwwww...."

"It's been almost a minute. There's no way I'm going to lose to you...!" Spade spun about on the ice and faced back to him. He was saying this not just about Joker, but about Noir as well.

"Say that again...?" Joker glared hard at Spade.

Spade was looking down at Joker with cold eyes. "Now that I'm standing before you like this, I feel a bit of pity. For myself. I hate how bothered I am by your existence."

"..." Joker listened quietly.

"Well, it's just about time. Fifteen seconds left... if you admit your loss here and now, I'll at least acknowledge you have the skills to be my rival." Spade silently pointed his Ice Shot.

But Joker shook his head with a derisive laugh. "No thanks. I'll decide my rivals on my own. And Spade, you're my rival in every respect."

"I'm what...?"

Just then, the ice under Spade's feet cracked loudly. "What!?" Spade involuntarily lost his balance. Joker immediately ran up to him and swiped the Crimson Crystal out of Spade's hand. At the same time, he pushed against the ice and jumped over to the poolside.

"Waaaugh!" The ice surrounding him split, and Spade splashed into the pool. Thoroughly soaked, Spade poked his head out of the water with a gasp and scowled at Joker. "W-What... did you do!?"

"It's simple. I set up my Emblem Fire inside the pool."

"You what...!?" Sure enough, when he looked at the ice, there were ashes from the burned cards. "...But the fire should have gone out when it was underwater!"

"Didn't you know? Gunpowder doesn't need external oxygen to burn, so it can stay aflame even underwater. There's a substance in fireworks that lets them keep burning even when they're immersed."

"You're kidding..."

"As soon as I saw the pool, I knew you'd freeze it over. That's why I shot Emblem Fire into it in advance. Then I just had to wait for the spot you were on to melt."

"You... predicted my attack..."

"Heh heh, you're pretty repetitive too," said Joker, spitting Spade's words right back at him. "Just as warned, I've stolen the Crimson Crystal in under a minute!"

"Ghh...!" Spade bit his lip and balled up his fists.

"Spade, you can challenge me any time," grinned Joker.

Just then, they heard a scream from outside the window. "KYAAAAAAAA!"

Looking out, they saw a blob of pink in the night sky approaching them at high speed. It was Queen, holding onto Balloon Gum.

"Queen!?"

Carried by powerful gusts of wind, Queen was hurtling their way.

She's going to crash into the window glass...! Joker used his Emblem Fire and Spade used his Ice Shot to break the glass, and Queen was forcefully swept into the building.

"T-Thanks."

"Queen, what's up?"

"Trouble. Noir sent out an advance notice. He's going to steal the treasure that Grandpa is after!"

"He's what!?" Joker and Spade exclaimed in unison.

Then there was a series of loud rumbles as reinforced shutters rolled over each wall and the ceiling.

"Oh shoot...!"

The three of them were trapped on this floor.

[mimiwrites2000]

Legends

Chapter Thirteen ~

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie/ Eren x Mikasa/ Jean x Hitch (other pairings will be added as the story goes on)

Words count: 6966

* spoilers for chapter 127 and up

Summary:

an injury

a miracle

an understanding

and maybe 'everything happens for a reason' holds some truth in it, and all of it leads to that tingle of emotions with unsolvable maze that hypnotize its victims

~a story of broken hearts who are searching for a cure while mending each other’s wounds

The air was salty.

Armin licked his lips, and he tasted salt, as if he kissed the ocean.

Seagulls hunted for generous travelers who tossed bread crumbs, seeking nourishment.

The sun was hot on his skin, coated with a slick layer of sweat. Blonde strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead, he kept brushing them away, but the soft, salty breeze ruffled them back on his face.

It was a hot summer day, hotter than usual. He should probably get inside his rented cabin, but the ocean had him under its spell. Armin held a book in his hands, neglected. His eyes never wavered off the infinite blue laid in front of him, blending with the sky in the middle. The white foam made by the ship matched the fluffy clouds scattered upon the sky.

The ocean enchanted Armin, it did since the very first time he saw it, and every time he sees it, he has all these unexplained sensations trembling in his veins, and he completely loses himself in the vast blue around him, the endless waves, and the sun's reflected rays on them, adorning the blue with glimmering glints of white.

He floated on a canvas with a bucket of blue paint spilled on, and he was that one, marginal dust on it. He couldn’t see the end of the canvas, and he lost the starting point long ago.

The ship broke through the waves, making its way to the safety of the island, and a tingle of excitement tackled Armin’s lips into a smile. He suppressed it, shaking it off.

The rage from two days ago felt so foreign to him at that moment. He almost forgot about the clutched paper in his hand; the reason he was on a ship, on his way to the continent.

Connie, whom Armin left in his house, had promised Armin he would take care of the house. Even though it wasn’t that big, and it’s not like Armin had a backyard filled with plants or a pet to take care of, still, Armin had a strong feeling that when he comes back, he’s gonna be greeted by a heap of charred wood replacing his house.

If anything calmed Armin a bit, it was his certainty that Connie wouldn’t step into his office. Since their training day, Connie had this cold war with books and theoretical subjects, and Armin was sure that his friend wasn’t nostalgic for those days-

“Ha!” Someone screamed from behind Armin, and he jumped in his place, a gasp left his lungs as he turned around to strike whoever the intruder was.

His eyes landed on someone that he was perplexed - to say the least- how coincidence brought them together, on this ship.

“What the hell? Hitch?!” Armin cried out, hating his shaky tone. His heart was beating so fast against his ribcage, it might as well jump out his throat.

Hitch laughed out loud, clapping her palms on her thighs, attracting other travelers’ attention. The flowery-patterned summer dress she was wearing ended right above her knees, her hair pulled away from her face in a bun so messy that seemed it might break at any second. Armin couldn’t help but admire how pretty she was.

He swiveled his gaze back to the ocean he was lost in a minute ago, disappointed at his interrupted moment, but after the shock wore off, he realized that he missed Hitch immensely.

“Oh God,” Hitch choked out between hiccups of ceasing laughter before she dropped beside Armin, “you should’ve seen your face!”

“Ha ha, so funny,” Armin tried to sound annoyed, but the smile on his face seeped into his fakely-bent-up tone.

“What a great coincidence! What’s up, Brainiac?” Then she leaned closer to him, and whispered “can’t risk calling your real name, after all, it’s been three years since you died.”

Armin rolled his eyes at the nickname, conceded to ignore it, but he answered her inquiry anyway: “I was going to ask you the same question, what business do you have here?”

“The ship? Nothing, I don’t work here,” Hitch retorted, spreading her arms on the bench’s back, crossing her legs, and Armin rolled his eyes again, “ok ok, I just have some business on the continent, what about you?”

Armin unconsciously tightened his grip on the paper in his hand, overlooking that this unremarkable gesture didn’t get past Hitch, who immediately snatched the paper from Armin’s hand.

“Hey!” he tried to get it back, but Hitch slapped her palm on his face, stopping him as his hands flailed helplessly, trying to retrieve the letter.

“Oh, well isn’t this interesting.”

“This is really none of your business-”

“Dear Armin…” Hitch started reading out the letter, and Armin groaned.

Dear Armin…

We’re so sorry if we were too much trouble today… we’re just worried for you and want you to be happy…

So we may or may not have asked Hanji for a small favor

Mikasa and Eren, and little Ymir

A small stick figure with two ponytails was drawn at the bottom of the paper, beside Ymir’s name.

“Little Ymir… isn’t that the queen’s kid?”

After a struggle, he released himself from Hitch’s grip. He rolled his neck and crossed his arms, nodding.

“So the queen still trusts her kid with these two morons?”

Armin didn’t answer; however, he did wonder how she knew about that… but considering what Mikasa told him a few days ago, about Hitch and Jean…

“What are they talking about?” she asked, checking the letter’s back.

“Oh…” Armin reached into his pocket, there was no point in hiding it from Hitch anyway…

Hitch read through the formal letter, her eyes scanning over it so quickly Armin thought her eyes would roll to the back of her head.

Her eyes lingered at the bottom of the letter, where the official cof the Survey Corps was.

“This is…”

“Ten official days off from Commander Hanji…”

Hitch gawed at Armin, before she lobbed the paper, giving Armin a second to catch it before it flew with the wind.

Hitch scoffed: “And I thought your dog died or something.”

“I don’t have a dog-”

“And what are you so upset about?”

Armin bit the inside of his lower lip. He trusted Hitch a long time ago, since the old days of spending sleepless nights at a certain cold basement, staring at a bulk of clear crystal, a girl floating in the middle of it…

Armin shook his head. He wanted to lie about the letter, come up with any excuse, but he couldn’t. Maybe the heat affected him, but... he suddenly had a foreign impulse to talk and talk, to let it all out…

“You know I didn’t ask for it…” Armin started, he was hesitant for a moment, but when he glanced at Hitch… she was listening, giving all her attention to him.

He took a deep breath and continued: “I never asked for a break, and they acted on their own, and I hate when they do that and it makes me feel pathetic and I’m so fucking done with them looking down at me like I’m still the weak nine years old kid- ouch!”

Hitch flicked her finger at Armin’s nose, he winced, wishing he could glare her to death.

“Yeah you are so pathetic,” she conceded, not stopping a second before saying it, “you never leave your house, you’re failing at relationships-“

“It was just one fucking relationship-“

“-and you developed a temper.”

“I didn’t.”

“You sure as hell did.”

“Ok so what?” Armin turned to her, frustration flailed his hands in front of his face.

Hitch raised an eyebrow at him, before she clicked her tongue: “You’re hopeless.”

Armin swallowed, he was thinking of any retort, any snarky comment that would throw her off, a remark that will make her as annoyed as he was.

It hit him, and he knew exactly what it was.

He leaned back on the seat, and with as much calmness he could muster, he said: “Well, it looks like you and Jean are much closer than I remember.”

From the side of his eyes, Armin saw the muscles in Hitch’s forearm clinch, the edge of her eyebrow uptick.

Armin fished for another comment: “I never thought he was your type-“

“Oh shut it, don’t mention that fucker’s name.”

If Hitch was trying to throw Armin off with her comment, then she vastly succeeded; it felt as if she kicked him off the deck and into the ocean. He flinched and shook his head, stared, trying to decide whether Hitch was joking or not, but she looked so serious, and Armin found himself speechless.

Guilt surfaced up his throat, because he knew exactly what it was like to be teased about this exact same topic.

“I-I’m sorry, I just thought you and him… you know, maybe you’re right, I’ve probably grown a bit impulsive through these…”

Armin forgot the rest of the sentence when he saw Hitch shaking… with laughter.

She bursted out in cackles and Armin touched his face, checking if he grew a third eye.

“You’re-” she snorted, “unbelievable!”

“I’m so done with you,” Armin got up, taking his suitcase with him. Hitch was dying of laughter as she clinged onto his wrist, splattering pleads for him to stay but half of her words were gibberish through laughter.

“No no no please please wait!”

“I’m so fucking done with you-”

“No no I promise I’ll explain!”

Armin plopped himself back on the bench, suitcase falling beside his jittering feet.

He tried to keep his eyes on a seagull as the hysterically-lost-it-all woman beside him gradually got herself together.

Hitch wiped a tear away as she said: “I knew I have it in me.”

“You’re not explaining yourself.”

“You’ve developed a temper alright,” Armin started to get up again, but she anchored him down with a hand to his shoulder, “no no please listen,” he sat down, but didn’t look at her.

“I’m going to the continent because I’m auditioning for a movie.”

“Uh… a what?” Armin heard that term somewhere before, he couldn’t put his finger on it…

She turned to him and elaborated: “It’s like… a play, but not really, it’s just… a bunch of pictures…” then she stopped, gesturing with her hands, as if the movement would compensate for her non-existent, poor explanation.

“Oh…” Armin remembered what she was talking about, it was these movies that are shown in places called cinemas… motion pictures.

Actors, directors, screenwriters… he read about these in one of his books.

“And… you want to become... an actress?” Armin asked, his eyebrows scrunched together. He would certainly be the happiest for Hitch if she became a big star, but he couldn’t imagine a soldier choosing that path after years of serving in the military….

“Well, after the war, the whole Military Police branch was wiped out. I thought, why not?” She retorted, shrugging her shoulders, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh right…” of course the Military Police was terminated in the aftermath of the war. There was simply no point in dividing themselves into three military branches. The same goes for the Garrison. All the soldiers were given the option of transferring to the Survey Corps or retiring…

Armin might be the only one from the original corps still serving in the military, beside Hanji of course… even captain Levi retired and opened a small coffee shop…

“You have that look on your face,” Hitch commented.

Armin raised an eyebrow.

“That look,” Hitch pointed at Armin’s face in circles,”it’s like that… that face you used to make when you stared at Annie.”

“Oh…” Armin went silent.

“It was that look… like, you were just absolutely out of it, like you’re dreaming or I don’t know, but very distracted,” Hitch looked at Armin, the seldom look in his eyes stopped her.

He looked away, pressed his lips, his eyelids fluttering,

“I…” Hitch softly shook her head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s ok.”

“I know she meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah…”

A beat of silence, seagulls’ cooing puncturing it. 

“Do you…” Hitch muttered, “still think of her?”

Armin’s jaw clenched.

A beat of silence.

Hitch clicked her tongue: “and by the way, I wasn’t lying about Jean.”

Armin’s jaw relaxed a bit, glad she changed the subject.

“I can’t stand him, and he can’t stand me, and I don’t even know if what we had is even considered a relationship,” She said casually. Armin didn’t know how to reply; should her offer comfort? because apparently Hitch wasn’t that close to Jean after all, and the break up -if it’s even should be called that- didn’t seem to affect her in the slightest…

Armin gazed back at the ocean. A thin line of land was steadily boldening as the ship cruised towards it. At that moment, Armin wanted to freeze the boat for eternity, to stay in the midst of this vast, bottomless blue.

“I…” Hitch said, and Armin turned his head towards her. He was taken aback by the soft look on her face, she was being genuine, but she didn’t continue her sentence, she merely looked in Armin’s eyes, and he understood everything she didn’t say.

I’m sorry about her.

“It’s fine, it really is fine,” Armin said, a smile on his lips, it didn’t reach his ears.

Hitch’s lips pressed into a thin smile, before her face brightened up, a light bulb flashed above her head, and she suggested: “You know there’s this place that I heard off, it’s some sort of a village, or maybe a small town, anyway, it has some really interesting places, besides, it will be holding a massive celebration for the third anniversary of the end of the war.”

“….and?”

“And? Seriously?” Hitch rolled her eyes, but Armin didn’t fidget. She smacked her lips before continuing: “I can meet you there, in two days, I had other plans, but I can delay those, I can get you a room at the same hotel I’m staying in, we can have fun, yeah?”

After that, Armin found himself standing at the harbor, a small piece of bagel-brown paper in his hand, an address scrabbled on it, as Hitch waved off to him.

At least, he had plans.

~~~

Armin had two days for himself to discover the city he was staying at.

He mooched around the town, his suitcase dragging beside him. Just like the first time he visited Marley with the survey corps a few years ago; the same overwhelming jitters of astonishment rushed through his body. Enthusiasm of unveiling-the-unknown awakened in his heart, pumping quivers in his veins.

The mid-day sun overhead, shedding light on gray-tiled streets meandering between similarly-gray markets, contouring the sides. Puffs of smoke emitting from chimneys, blending together in a whirl of a gray before mounting up, the sunlight filtering through it, softening, adding a touch of haziness to the atmosphere.

In contrast to the gray-dull blocks, people clad in rainbow-palette charades, a flurry of liveliness, carrying singing instruments alongside it, its harmony a blend of melodious laughter, rhythmic chatters, nostalgic uproarious kids’ squeals, and the shopkeepers howling offers.

People spoke different languages. He recognized his own language spoken here and there, but in completely different accents that he didn’t understand parts of it.

One cohesive symphony delicately orchestrated. 

Melodies from afar punctuated the coordinated harmony, adjoining another layer of ecstasy. Armin thought that it was his ear putting together all these overwhelmingly-pleasing sounds and making up this melody, but as he snagged his way through the sea of colors, the music source got louder, the notes in sync with Armin’s heartbeat, pulsating in his ears.

His feet led him to the sound, and it was close, so close. Armin broke out of a curtain of people, and-

A guy sat on a carpet woven from the rainbow beams, his fingers strumming strings effortlessly, on an instrument that resembled a guitar, but its neck thin, its body a hollow swelling of light brown wood. He played it like it was second nature to breathing, the notes compatible with the thudding of boots and chatter, merging in congruence. He faded with his surroundings, his gray unfamiliar-clothing matching the jagged bricks of the building behind him, only a few eyes glanced at him or at the colorful carpet beneath him. 

When he saw that Armin was staring, he winked at him.

Unexpecting it, Armin backed away, accidentally stepping on someone’s foot.

Armin tumbled but didn’t fall, he stuttered out: “I’m so sorry!” 

A man, the man Armin stepped on his foot, was babbling in a language Armin never heard before.

Armin flailed his arms around, trying to apologize somehow, but he stopped; the man smiled, bowed his head, and put his palm on his heart.

Dumbfoundedly, Armin found himself tentatively mimicking the man’s gesture.

After that, the man beckoned Armin to follow him, and started down the street. After a hesitant moment, Armin nodded and walked side by side with the man.

Their walk was interrupted constantly by the man stopping every few steps to greet someone. Armin wondered if everyone knew each other in this town… then it dawned on him that you don’t have to know someone to wish them a good day.

The town itself was a decaying skeleton of bricks and stone, but the souls occupying it blew life into every crevice of it, blooming as those souls grew older, their bond solidifying like bricks within walls.

They jostled their way through the current of colors. With every step they took, a sweet aroma wafted through the air. Armin sniffed, spotting a coffee shop down the street. The man invited him in, offering a hot drink and a weird dessert that Armin had no idea what it was made of, except for the flower petals adorning it.

The man refused any payment, doing the same hand-on-the-heart gesture from earlier.

A few minutes later, Armin resumed roaming with a warm cup in his hand. The burnt-brown mixture was not different from any other coffee, but the smell and the taste had a unique twist to them, accompanied with the flowers-infused dessert; an addicting taste that he could get used to. Armin couldn’t pinpoint the different ingredients, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

Beside the coffee shop stood a thin tall construction with a pointy head, like a pencil. Armin saw exact replicas of it scattered around the town as well; different colors and sizes, but same embellishments. He didn’t know its function; it reminded him of a lighthouse, but it certainly wasn’t; no lighthouse is in the middle of land.

A marginal part of Armin found it hard to admit it, but he felt… happy, or more like relieved. He surprised himself by the sudden feeling of wanting to go out, to see people and walk through crowds, not interacting with them, but merely watching from afar. 

He was caging himself in a shell, forbidding himself from this very primitive liberty for so long. 

A new yet rudimentary form of freedom.

He regretted treating Mikasa and Eren badly a few days ago. When he first read the letter, he boiled with anger. Ignoring Connie’s shouts, he sprinted out his house, taking the shortest route to Mikasa and Eren’s place, and when he reached it, he barely held himself back from denting the door with knocking.

Eren cracked the door open, and when he saw Armin, he slammed it shut in his face.

That was when Connie stepped in, and after tedious tirades and three cups of coffee, he convinced Armin to take this vacation and ‘enjoy his time’.

Armin bought a postcard and an envelope, intending to write to Eren and Mikasa and apologize to them.

He spent the rest of the day walking through town, taking in as much detail as possible, collecting memories to tell, and when his legs were numb enough to stumble upon, Armin decided to get something to eat.

He sat on a bench at a square, a spacious square with a fountain centering it, kids splashing water, as their parents shopped at the markets surrounding the place. A mouth-watering aroma allured Armin to a traditional restaurant where he got a sandwich with a drink, both have foreign names that were too hard for him to pronounce.

As his muscles relaxed, he realized how tired he was. He didn’t rest after the long boat trip, captivated by the charming spirit of that town, besides, he had been walking for hours with a suitcase as an extra weight. He needed a place to stay for the night.

A small girl with unruly red locks flailing around her face jumped around, her green, flowery dress swirling with every step she took. A stack of newspaper weighing in her hands, obviously a burden.

Armin waved his hand, catching her attention. With a smile on her face, she approached him, handing out a newspaper.

“Thank you,” Armin said, but the girl skewed her head at him in confusion, she probably spoke a different language.

“O-oh, um… thaaaa….nnnkkk….yooouuu…” he repeated it again but slowly, only to realize it wouldn’t make her understand. But then, she pointed at her ears, and it dawned on Armin; she was deaf. He remembered the hand-on-heart gesture from the coffee man before, so Armin bowed his head, and put his hand on his heart. The girl smiled, and did the same. He paid for the newspaper, and the girl trudged back to the middle of the square, holding the newspaper stack tight to her chest, keeping it dry with the kids splashing water around.

Armin opened the newspaper. He sighed when he saw most of it was written in the language he spoke.

The first title made him choke on his sandwich.

As the third anniversary of the war is nearing, the world is wondering, is it really over?

Armin scanned through the rest of the page, his mouth inching wider with every word, a crumb of chewed bread fell out his mouth. 

Is it really over? Are all titan shifters actually dead?

Or is it just another trick from the devils of paradise?

The world demands proof that the Eldians are unable to turn into titans anymore, and it won’t rest until the truth is out.

Armin couldn’t believe his eyes, and suddenly, the sandwich in his hand was no longer appealing.

~~~~

The hunting for an affordable inn started. Armin roamed the streets again, instead of keeping his chin up and reading signboards, his gaze was fixated on others; he felt every pair of eyes on him, only watching him, somehow knowing that he was the colossal titan, with one, unremarkable scratch, he could blow this whole city, charring it into dust, as if it never existed before.

Fear shoved the ruthless joyfulness into a far, abandoned corner, cackling. Sweat broke on Armin’s forehead, his heart beating fast in his chest.

For the first time in three years, Armin felt unsafe.

All he knew for the past three years was living for his own self, safely. He was still stuck with the military, and he had troubles sleeping the first few weeks he moved alone into his house, but it was as if he was reborn, turned a new page, and started a brand new life. Even if the whole world declared his death, for him, it was a new beginning.

Armin needed a quiet place, as fast as possible.

He entered the very first inn he laid eyes on.

The inn was in the middle of the town, with an affordable price and clean rooms. Not big but not small. It wasn’t crowded nor was it empty. He booked a room closest to the emergency exit, hastily snatched the key from the concierge's hand, throwing a trembling thank-you over his shoulder as he scuttled as fast as he could up the stairs, reaching his room, checking the number engraved on the key twice, before going in and locking the door.

He flopped his suitcase on the bed, closed the curtains, then double checked that the door was locked.

Stepping into the bathtub, he stayed under the warm spray of the shower longer than needed, all the while checking behind the curtains.

He snuck under the blankets, unexpectedly cold after the warm shower, slept with one eye open, as light gradually faded behind the curtains, denoting the end of his first day of this unforeseen vacation. 

The last thing he thought of before drifting into an uneasy sleep- was buying a ticket back to the island, first thing in the morning.

~~~

Light crept into the room as the sun rose up in the sky. Armin didn’t see it, he was under his blankets, speculating the closed curtains, his heart thudding loudly in his ear.

His ears perked up for any sound.

His throat was dry as a desert.

His water bottle was across the room.

Armin observed it, unmoving. He closed his eyes for a long second, hoping that when he opens them, the water bottle would be right in front of his face.

But it didn’t move an inch.

He should get going, get up, gather his stuff, and leave.

This is ridiculous, Connie himself would be ashamed.

He got up, a shiver went up his spine the moment his toes touched the carpeted floor. Even though he was aware he was being an idiot, he couldn’t shake off this paranoia. Tiptoeing to the water bottle, he reached to it, his mouth getting dryer, his fingers were an inch away from it-

KNOCK KNOCK!!!

Armin hit the water bottle, knocking it off, water spilling on the floor, splashing the curtain.

Freeze.

He didn’t dare move a limb.

His brain went through every possibility of who could be at the door. Angry people with torches and swords? Maybe men in black with guns in their hands? Or it was the government on a mission to arrest him? Or- 

KNOCK KNOCK!!!

Armin flinched. He took a deep breath, and approached the door with inaudible steps, as light as he could. It felt like ages before he reached the door. He spied through the peephole, it was blurred with dust, but it was enough to see a figure of someone standing there.

A woman.

A blonde woman.

No way no way no way-

Short

Petite

Armin leaned against the door, squinting, trying to decipher her features, his heart involuntary beating faster in his chest-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!!!

Armin fell back, tumbling on his ass, a grunt escaped his mouth. He slammed his palm on his mouth, the pain from the fall momentarily vanishing, but it was too late.

“Alright if someone is in there, for God’s sake just answer the fucking door, I got other businesses to do!” a gruff voice called from the other side of the door, impatient, their tapping foot could be heard from down the hall.

That’s not… her...

“Y-yes?” Armin squeaked out.

“Towels? This is room’s services, do you need extra towels?”

What? Room service? I didn’t ask for-

“Just answer the goddamn question-”

“N-no!” Armin half shouted, trembling, “th-thanks I don’t need t-towels please.”

“You got a letter,” the gruff woman added.

A letter? Wha-

“Hello?! Can you stay with me for one fucking minute-”

“I’m sorry!” He blurted out, “f-from whom?”

“Do I look like I would know?” A very loud sigh, “are you even gonna open the goddamn door? Actually nevermind-” 

Armin heard rustling, before the tip of white paper sneaked under the door.

“Next time answer the door faster, just wasting my Goddamn time, as if I had any more time to waste…” the complaints faded down the hallway.

Armin layed on the floor for extra few minutes, energy drained out of him.

Another letter.

Armin feared what could be in it.

He slit open the top of the envelope with trembling fingers, shook it, a small piece of wrinkled brown paper fell out.

He held it so close to his eyes, rereading the few lines over and over again.

Ayyooo Armin!

I hope you enjoyed your free time!

Just a reminder about our meeting tomorrow, oh and I already got you a train ticket and a room in that hotel

See ya there!

Hitccchhh~

He didn’t leave his room for the rest of the day. Plans of leaving to the island seemed way far off reach.

~~~

At night, Armin took the train to the town Hitch told him about. Keeping his eyes down, his movement unnoticeable, dissolving within the train’s car.

It was barely dawn when he arrived, the sky a dark blue, the moon absent.

It was one of those nights where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face; the surroundings plunged into darkness. The only available light coming from fluorescent street bulbs with vague halos, fireflies zipping around them. He barely got himself to the hotel Hitch told him about, the process of checking in all but blurry. Paranoia substituted by exhaustion. He flopped on the bed, only able to kick off his shoes before he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

He woke up at noon.

Sweaty, hot, tangled in the sheets, the sun glaring through the window.

Sleeping at dawn and waking up at noon was one of the things Armin avoided for the past three years; he was an early bird who liked mornings. When he woke up with the sun scorching in the middle of the sky, it was as if he fell off a cliff and all his bones were broken, muscles from head to toe aching.

Of course, the morning buffet the hotel provided had long ended, (now that he was aware of it, the hotel Hitch recommended was rather nice… pricey as well, he noted to talk about this with her, he couldn’t let her pay for it). Armin could no longer ignore his stomach walls clamping on each other, so, with caution, all his senses fully activated, he left his room, making sure to hide all his personal stuff underneath the mattress and behind the closet.

Only then did he have a chance to look around the town.

Frighteningly astonishing, it looked as a bucket of rainbow splashed on it. The silent buildings decided to grow non identically; each one sprouted from its roots in fortuitous angles, frozen mid dance on inaudible tunes.

A canvas of a bored artist and a brush, spontaneously drawing strokes wherever and however. And what was a mere boredom act had become a masterpiece others marvel at.

It was quiet for such a colorful city, even though people zipped up and down the streets, but for Armin’s eyes that were still adjusting to the light, it was all but a blurry gray-scaled lines.

After his vision cleared… he found out it wasn’t much different than when they were blurry.

People clothed in three colors… black, white, and gray. Striped, dotted, and squared. Their faces wore similar schemes; stoic, prosaic, blank. All busy and in a hurry, scurrying down the streets, everyone going on with their day, not glancing at one another.

Armin, with his blue shirt and brown pants, felt so out of the place.

Any sort of the modern technology Armin saw when he first visited the continent- were nowhere to be seen; there was not a single car on the streets, only black bicycles that passed by him like wind. The zig-zagging chimneys sprouting from houses didn’t blow gray toxics into the air, and the air tasted different; clean and refreshing. 

However, the fresh air didn’t seem to affect the people at all, either they were too used to it, or simply didn’t care.

Armin swallowed, thinking why on earth did Hitch recommend this city. Yes the place was nice, cheerful and pulsating with life, but its people were as emotionless as an unremarkable stone on the sideroad.

It wasn’t about the fanciness of a place, its color or its shapes, it never was and never will be.

it was all about the people.

They either spread life in town, or rob it from it.

Armin tried to not make eye contact with anyone, and not because of his dilemma of being exposed, but because everyone seemed intolerable to a delaying-glance.

He permitted himself to stroll the streets and discard his situation on the shelf for a while.

After all, it was ridiculous. 

Utterly ridiculous.

He took a turn right, a turn left, walked for some time, went through alleys and squares… it was too late until he realized he could no longer go back to the hotel.

He was lost and had no idea where he was, internally freaking out.

Do not panic don't panic do not panic

If his frantic thoughts showed on his face, he’d probably be an easy prey and get blindly robbed. He must stay sharp and focused.

Time passed, and Armin decided that he wouldnt find his way back if he didn’t move, and soon enough, he found himself walking through a traditional market rounding a vast square, traders wearing hints of color, intruding the greyness of the town-people, Armin realized that this market was attended by foreigners.

In the middle of the square, a small stage was being set up, almost finished. From people’s questioning stares and glances, Armin concluded that it was as foregin to them as it was to him.

But after fleeting looks, people would resume their life, running errands, their kids killing time waiting for their parents; playing and hopping around.

Armin forgot his hunger and that he was lost for a second, watching the kids.

Much like his younger days, with Mikasa and Eren in Shiganshina...

The atmosphere ignited nostalgia’s candle under Armin’s nose. He sighed, wishing that he invited his friends with him, maybe having company wouldn’t have gotten him in the mess he meddled in, why didn’t I even think about that?

Armin’s stomach grumbled in response, reminding him that he didn’t eat anything since… the day before...

The side market-stands with fresh fruits watered his mouth. He swallowed, approaching a stand where shiny apples were snatching glances from everyone at the market.

Armin picked two apples, one red and one green -he didn’t have a personal preference- and any food on an empty stomach is worth a fancy meal at the monarchy’s feasts.

Horns echoed.

Every head in the square swiveled to the center, where the stage was completely set up, a middle aged man standing on it, his chin up, beside him a younger man, a younger replica of him. Four musicians, carrying small horns that were a shame for real horns, standing behind him.

Classy 

“Attention, people of this town,” the old man with a round belly announced, hushed murmurs transpired, and Armin heard admirable words like it’s the Mayor! Or how humble he is!, which made Armin raise a confused eyebrow.

Everyone went quiet, and as if on cue, the Mayor continued: “As words had been going around, we’re holding one of the biggest festivals here, in memory of ending the big war. Three years ago, when the world saw peace again!”

Claps erupted, Armin grimaced at the Mayor’s meek wording.

The mayor’s chest inflated with pride (or ego?), the buttons on his gray-striped shirt threatening to pop off. He raised his hand, and the crowd, once again, fell into homage silence.

“And as I promise you, my dear people,” few people sighed, “I’ll make it worthy for your praise and admiration. People from all over the world are going to visit us, and from my place here, I ask you for generosity and hospitality, and to take advantage of this trade investment! It’s a great opportunity for your markets to flourish!”

The crowd clapped again. The Mayor half bowed, before he descended the stage, his younger look-alike following him.

Comments, squeals, and whispers spread rapidly, and the square was as alive as it was before the pause.

“Young man?” 

Armin turned to the seller, he almost forgot where he left. He reached into his pockets, but stopped when the seller whispered to him, his accent heavy but understandable: “Did you see what he did? He’s using the people, his people for money!”

Armin’s mouth opened and closed several times, taken aback, before he asked: “What do you mean? Isn’t this for their own good?”

“What? No young man, no. I take it you’re not from here?”

Armin shook his head.

“Well let me tell you something,” the seller leaned closer to Armin, his voice dropping to lower than a whisper, “that man owns this market, he takes 50% percent of the profit, from every single one of us!”

“...what?”

“Exactly!” the seller looked right and left, making sure no one was eavesdropping on them, “half of my hard work goes right into his pockets!”

Armin scrunched his nose; he had a bad feeling about the Mayor the moment he saw him. Armin didn’t know why the seller was telling him this… maybe he just wanted to let it out…

“His son looks no better than him… I’m sorry young man, I shalln’t hold you up any longer.”

Armin nodded with an apologetic smile, handing several coins for the seller, he turned around and-

He pumped into someone, and a paper bag full of groceries was dropped out on the ground, the two apples slipping from his hands and falling into the mix.

“I’m so sorry! I-I apologize!,” Armin knelt and started picking the goods and putting them back into the bag.

Armin wasn’t bothered that he picked up all the groceries by himself, their owners not doing anything; it was his fault after all.

When he was done, he stood up, glancing at the two apples which were no longer edible; one split in half and facing downwards, the other had a huge soft brown circle on it, contradicting how appetizing they looked just ten seconds ago.

“There you-” Armin’s voice stopped in his throat.

His eyes met a pair of familiar icy blue eyes, wide open, boring into his own.

“Annie…” Armin whispered, his eyes widening.

It was her, blonde hair in a bun, blue eyes- it was her.

No doubt.

Annie...

There is no way this is actually happening; she can’t just vanish for years then pop out of nowhere like this.

That wasn’t fair, it was ridiculous, the world had a plan, and Armin was a toy controlled by someone else, snickering at him as Armin couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t believe his eyes.

He spent three years trying to forget her, they can’t go through this again-

She yanked the paper bag from Armin’s hands, pulled a gray cape over her head and walked away.

Armin froze for a moment, but when he saw her figure fading into the crowd, he darted behind her.

“Annie! Annie, wait! Please wait!” Armin called, as he pushed through people, whose sudden purpose was hindering Armin from getting to Annie. He accidently pushed a guy who happened to be holding a basket filled with eggs to the rim. The guy staggered, squelching half of them on the ground.

“Hey! Watch out!” The man complained, but Armin didn’t acknowledge him in the slightest.

She didn’t slow down, she maintained her fast pace, ignoring Armin’s calls, pulling the cape further down her face when people started giving them suspicious glances.

“Annie! Please!”

More eyes looked at them.

Armin barely kept up with Annie, trying so hard to not lose sight of her. Until they reached an intersection, people double the number, bicycles zipping past Armin-

She turned right.

Armin sprinted, crashing into bodies, people throwing profanities at him. He turned right and-

She was gone.

She vanished.

Armin halted in his tracks, his breathing erratic, staring at the last spot he saw Annie at.

Was that… was that a facade? 

A hand clapped on Armin’s shoulder, he jumped, only to see that the hand belonged to a man.

An angry man, with a basket of half cracked eggs.

The man was shouting, complaining, cursing. But Armin didn’t hear him; his ears ringing, his mouth dry, and his sight swaying.

A few blocks away, a blonde carrying groceries bag was hastily leaving the scene, covering her head, not turning around to check if he was behind her.

Ignoring the awkward glances from passbyres, she kept going until she was out of the center of the town, where houses scattered over vast land, and it was more peaceful than the market, less crowded, less people.

She walked to a small, humble house, took out keys and unlocked the door. Discarding the bag in the kitchen. She beelined to her room, closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room, searching for anything to break, to smash, anything to let out her anger on, anything.

When she decided she mustn’t leave a trace of her rage, she sat on the ground, leaning against the door, and bit down hard on hand. Closing her jaw as hard as she can on flesh, until she tasted her own blood.

Sharp pain shot from her hand, she let it go with a hiss, watching blood dripping on the ground.

She watched her wound.

A labored, shaky sigh left her mouth, she rested her head against the wooden door as she eyeballed steam emitting from her wound, flesh forming and healing, accompanied with a murmur of a hiss.

“Are you done? Did you let it all out? Or you wanna bite your other hand?”

She looked up, a girl sitting on her bed, legs crossed, a smirk blasted on her face.

“What… what have you done, Hitch?”

.

.

AAAAAAAAAHHH Oh my GOD I didn’t update Legends in so long I’m so excited to finally post this dkgdlsajgkds Thanks for everyone who tolerated this story not being updated for some time, thanks for sticking around, I really appreciate it I know I haven’t been updating as much as I used to, I’m gonna graduate soon, so I’m a bit busy with university right now The thing is, I’m too attached to this story, and only recently I realized this. I started writing this story in April 2020, it was the beginning of lockdown and all the crazy shit we’re going through right now. It was my own escape, and I enjoyed writing every single word of it I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ll never abandon this story, because it became a part of me that I can’t live without So thank you guys for coming along this journey, I appreciate it. ALSO SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER I’M SO SORRY OH MY GOD Ok that’s all, feedback is always appreciated, here on tumblr or ao3 (or twitter uwu) OK THANKS AGAIN YOU GUYS I LOVE YOU MWAAAHH