#creatures house district...

[hoolyelina]

yet another seaside hut to the collection... i love trying different palettes for these i feel like that image of a guy breaking chains. ive been building one giant thing in one style for so long so its nice to just mess around with the whole minecraft palette again

[onlybeeewrites]

Angel Eyes

Request: Hello I would like to request a Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader! I see that you also do starwars and it had me thinking. How would Coriolanus do if either your his tribute or a mentor or his wife? and a little kid came up to the reader and asked her if she was an Angel?

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: classism, mentions of malnutrition/malnourishment, Coryo’s manipulation, slight diversion from canon for fic sake

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Capitol Zoo was unusually quiet that morning, as if the city itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the Games. The sky above was pale and washed-out, making the enclosures seem more like cages.

You walked slowly beside Coriolanus, your fingers brushing together before he finally gave in and laced his with yours. It was one of the few soft things about him—this quiet affection when no one was watching.

Well, when he thought no one was watching, at least.

His eyes were locked on the girl in the District 12 enclosure, her bright dress muted by the grim bars and stale air. Lucy Gray stood with her chin tilted high, a performer through and through, even in captivity.

You both watched her for a few moments—Coryo calculating, curious, captivated. You, quieter, unsure how to feel about the girl who smiled like she knew secrets.

“She’s different,” you murmured, your eyes trialing her up and down.

“She’s dangerous,” he replied. But there was something like admiration in his voice. Though you weren’t threatened by it.

After all, she was the one behind the bars; you weren’t.

You nodded once, then gently tugged his hand. “Come on. I want to see mine.”

Your tribute was a girl of only twelve, a slip of a thing with tangled hair and limbs too thin for her frame. She was tucked in a corner of the enclosure, knees pulled to her chest like she was trying to disappear.

You reached into the elegant satchel slung over your shoulder, the one your mother insisted matched your family’s station.

“A Tolston never leaves the house looking anything less than exceptional.” Was what your mother had always said to you.

The Tolstons were old money. Old, influential, and perpetually seated at the Capitol’s highest tables, with your father’s name on every infrastructure committee and your mother curating the Capitol’s most exclusive fashion exhibits.

You weren’t supposed to cry about the Games. You weren’t supposed to feel things for tributes. But it was different now that you were in charge of taking care of one, to try and help your tribute to win.

So here you were, with wrapped honeyed bread, pear slices and soft cheese tucked between embroidered linen napkins. A large fancy ‘T’ stitched into it.

“Hi,” you said gently. “This is for you.”

She blinked up at you, wide-eyed, hesitant. Then slowly, carefully, she stood and crept over, taking the bundle like it might vanish if she moved too quickly. Her fingers brushed yours, feather-light, and you smiled.

She stared at the food, then at you. And then she said, in a small, wonder-filled voice

The little girl stood on the other side of the bars, hay in her hair while she stood in the dirt. The food you had passed was clutched tight in her small hands like she was afraid someone would take it back.

“Are you an angel?” she asked, voice breathy, eyes too big for her thin face.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

She nodded seriously, stepping a little closer. “An angel. My mama used to talk about them all the time. She said they were the most beautiful creatures in the world. That they come when you’re really scared. When you’re about to give up.”

Your heart twisted. “Oh, sweetheart…” you crouched lower so you were more at her level. “No. I’m not an angel. I’m just…” You hesitated, glancing at the food in her hands. “I’m someone who thinks you shouldn’t be hungry. Just someone who is looking after you,”

She frowned thoughtfully, tilting her head like a curious bird. “You look like one. Your voice is soft. Like my mama’s was.”

Behind you, the soft buzz of a camera lens adjusted, zooming in. You could feel the eyes of the Capitol watching—Lucky Flickerman’s commentary somewhere off to the side, smooth as ever.

“Your name is Lina, right?” you asked gently.

“Lina,” she said with a nod, “Lina Grove,”

“Lina Grove,” you repeated, giving her a small smile. “That’s a beautiful name. Mine’s—”

“I know,” she interrupted, suddenly shy. “They said your name on the screen when we got here. You’re the pretty girl that walks with the white-haired boy.”

You choked on a surprised laugh. “The white-haired boy?”

Coriolanus, who’d remained behind you but close, let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a scoff. His fingers tightened around yours—possessive, protective. “Charming,” he muttered under his breath.

Lina giggled.

“You’re funny,” she said to you. “And you smell nice. Not like the rest of this place.”

You leaned in conspiratorially. “That’s because I carry soap in my bag. Want me to sneak you some tomorrow?”

Her eyes lit up like you’d promised her a crown or the most sparkly jewels on earth.

“Really?” she whispered. “Even just to smell it?”

“Promise.”

She hugged the food to her chest like it was a lifeline. “Do angels make promises?”

You hesitated, just for a second. “Only the good ones, I suppose,”

Lucky’s voice rang out from somewhere behind the camera. “And there you have it, folks—our mentors are shining this year! Capitol hearts everywhere are absolutely melting.”

You stood slowly, wiping your hands on your skirt. Lina backed up a step but kept her eyes on you, like she wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

You gave her a nod. “Every day until the Games.”

She bit her lip. “Even after?”

Something in your chest fractured. And unfamiliar ache.

“I’ll try,” you whispered. “I’ll do everything I can, I promise,”

Coriolanus stepped closer, slipping his arm around your waist, his voice low beside your ear. “You’re going to make it very hard for them to forget her.”

You didn’t answer. Just watched as Lina sat back down with her food next to her district partner; an older boy maybe around 16. And, for the first time, looked like a child again.

And for a split moment you felt guilt. 

    · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The gravel path shimmered faintly beneath your shoes as you and Coriolanus walked away from the enclosure. The buzz of cameras had finally died down, Lucky Flickerman’s voice trailing off into some other scripted sentiment. 

The air felt heavier now, quieter. As if your lungs were remembering how to breathe again the further you got away from it all.

You glanced back once—just once—toward where Lina now slept in one part of the zoo’s enclosure.

“She’s so little,” you said, more to yourself than him. “Twelve. She still has baby teeth, Coryo.”

His hand tightened on yours. Just a bit. Just enough. Though you didn’t see it, there was a small shift in the boy you loved so much.

“She’s a tribute,” he said, like it was supposed to explain everything. So simple. How could it be that simple?

“I know,” you murmured. “It’s just—” You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. “She called me an angel.”

“She’s scared. They all are.” His voice was soft but sure, like velvet hiding steel. “And you gave her exactly what she needed in that moment. Comfort. That’s not a bad thing, my love,”

You nodded slowly, but something still stirred beneath your ribs. Not outrage—nothing so dramatic. Just a quiet ache. A tug of something soft and uncertain.

He stopped walking, gently pulling you to a halt beside him. You looked up at him, and the Capitol haze made his blond hair shine almost silver. Stunning. He was absolutely stunning.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, brushing your hair from your face with careful fingers. “But we don’t get to be soft right now. Not when everything we want is within reach.”

You blinked up at him, uncertain.

He leaned closer, voice dropping like it was a secret meant only for you.

“We’re doing this for a reason. You and me. The mentor who make it out of this with winning tributes—our lives change. We move forward. Higher. We don’t get stuck in the mud like the rest of them. The Games are there for a reason. To keep the districts in line. But now they’re also the one place we get to prove ourselves.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening. Your eyes never leaving his, not once.

He slid his hand to your cheek. “You want a future, don’t you? Not just for her. For us.”

Your throat bobbed. “I do. Of course, I do, Coryo,”

He smiled then—slow, warm, like sunlight cutting through clouds.

“Then we play the game, my angel,” he said softly. “And we win it.”

Something about the way he said we made your pulse flutter. As if your names were already written into the Capitol’s future. As if this moment, however sharp around the edges, was only the beginning.

Like everything was already promised, and all you needed to do was just grab it.

You exhaled slowly, letting the guilt drift back into the shadows. He was right. He always had a way of being right. And you were grateful he was there to bring you back to common sense.

“I hate when you talk like that,” you whispered, lips curving into a reluctant smile.

“Why?” he teased.

“Because you always make me believe it.”

His grin widened, all charm and quiet power. He kissed the back of your hand, elegant and practiced. “Good.”

The two of you then continued down the path—two golden children of the Capitol, walking the road toward something both of you could only hope for; while Coryo was determined to grab.

A life he deserved, with plenty of money, power, and the Angel of the Captial at his side.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! | f. odair

masterlist

anon's request: noo bc i've been thinking about this for a while (all the time) imagine the reader from district 8 who's with finnick always sewing random fish patterns into his clothes or any cloth-related items bc of his district!!!

warnings: just some cutesy fluff, very very mild suggestive themes

notes: i couldn't not write this request it's so cute. very rushed because i've got another fic in the works ;) stay tuned my beautiful readers <3

word count: 800

Finnick would always invite girlfriend!reader to District Four because this man has major attachment issues, so you practically live at his house and are both attached to the hip. And one day he would find this little lionfish embroidered onto the cuff of his favourite sweater, which oddly resembles the colour of his hair.

His first instinct would be to call out to you. "Sweetheart?"

And you would respond with a "Hm?" from another room in the house, sneakily sewing something onto another item of his clothing. He would be curiously inspecting the little creature that had taken up residence on his shirt as he padded through the house to your whereabouts.

Just as he entered the room you were in, he would begin, "Why is there a—"

He'd cut himself short as he looked up and saw you sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, legs tucked beneath your body, a soft, knitted blanket draped over your lap, and a sewing kit lying on the side table. In your hands were a pair of his pants.

One of his eyebrows raised. "You've got my pants."

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway. "I do," you replied.

He took a step closer. "And you're sewing them."

"I am."

Another step. "And there's a fish sewed onto my sweater..."

You simply smiled at him—an adorable proud little smile. God, you looked so cute he genuinely felt to urge to lean down and pinch your cheeks between his fingers, but then he remembered he was your boyfriend, not your grandmother.

"Not that I'm not in absolute awe of your sewing abilities but—" He chuckled, shaking his head— "why?"

You shrugged, piercing a sewing needle through the waistband of the pants in your lap. "You're from District Four; fishes are kind of your thing, are they not? Plus, it's pretty," you said, then your voice lowered to a soft murmur. "Like you."

His stomach fluttered and he almost giggled like a little girl at your words. Once he got close enough, he kneeled beside the chair you were sitting in, watching as your delicate fingers manoeuvred the needle and yarn into the outline of a seahorse. He smiled to himself.

"Do you think I should start weaving clothes for you? Considering your district's all about making clothes and stuff," he said with a smirk.

"Like a dress made out of netting? It wouldn't leave much to the imagination."

"You won't hear this mouth complaining," Finnick said, the image of you walking around the house clad in a black net dress overcoming his mind.

Your cheeks warmed with a horrible blush and you decided to focus your attention entirely on the seahorse in the effort to overcome the sudden lewd thoughts involving his mouth.

Finnick continued watching in amazement as you managed to turn a few colours of yarn into a beautiful seahorse on the waistband of his pants. He wondered how many other pieces of clothing of his you had managed to infiltrate with various sea creatures. When his eyes caught on a bright blob of colour on the underside of the shirt sleeve he was wearing, he smiled, knowing he had gotten his answer.

His gaze flickered back to you, observing the look of concentration on your face as you sewed—the gentle crinkle of your furrowed brows, the subtle curl of your lips, and every now and then, the small twitch of your nose like that of a bunny, the pink of your blush adding to the image.

He couldn't help but prop his folded arms on the arm of the chair, chin resting on his forearms as he shamelessly and blatantly admired the changes in your facial expressions. He noticed as your eyes began to occasionally flicker toward him, your attention increasingly beginning to drift.

A few minutes later, you exhaled a heavy sigh. "You're so distracting."

"You're so adorable," he replied almost dreamily.

There it was again. The humiliating pink flush of your cheeks.

He grinned, humming a quiet laugh as he rose to his feet to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

"Can I make one request?" he asked.

"Perhaps."

His eyes fell to the lionfish on the shirt in his hands, eyes sparkling with child-like joy. "Sew some of these onto your own clothes so we can match."

A wide smile stretched across your lips.

Within the next week, you and Finnick were a giggling mess, sporting matching sweatshirts embroidered with big blue dolphins, each one's blowhole featuring a small red heart just above.

[cityandking]

oc asks: AU ABCs

Same characters, different worlds! Send a letter to learn about an alternate universe.

A. alternate universe. What kind of AU is your OC best suited to? Are there any AUs they're in already? What are they?

B. band au. What is your OC like in a band AU? Are they a performer or a groupie? What instrument would they play? What's their relationship with their bandmates and/or the group(s) they follow?

C. coffee shop au. What would your OC be like in a classic coffee shop AU? Are they at all suited for the barista lifestyle? What's their go-to coffee order?

D. duplicate. How would your OC react to meeting their clone or doppelganger? What if they were a clone or doppelganger? How would they feel about that?

E. education. What would your OC be like in a high school and/or college AU? What would their major be? What would they teach if they were an educator?

F. fey. What kind of fey or fairy creature would your OC be? Would they be in a spooky, intense fairy world or a playful, lighthearted fairy world?

G. gods. What would your OC be the god of? If they were a demi-god, who would their divine parent be?

H. horror. Would your OC survive in a horror situation? What would their role be? How would they deal with being tossed in a horror scenario?

I. intellectual property. Are there any popular series or franchises that your OC is well-suited for? Which 'verse(s) and what makes them so well-suited?

J. (J)RPG. What kind of hero would your OC be in a JRPG (or any other RPG). Would they have any special skills, weapons, or finishing moves? What tier character would they be?

K. kids. Does your OC have kids? What are their kids like? If they don't have kids, would they? What would they be like as a parent?

L. lovers. Does your OC have different partners in different AUs? What might their love life be like in an AU? How would they do in a romance genre, like romantasy or a romcom?

M. multiverse. Are there any points in your OC's life where things could have gone differently? Where else might they have ended up? How would your OC react to crossing the multiverse and meeting another version of themself?

N. normal. What's your OC's normal world like? Are they in a fantasy setting, a sci-fi setting, the modern world? Share a little about your character's normal life.

O. omegaverse. What’s their subgender? What's their scent? How do they feel about it?

P. pacific rim au. What is your OC doing in a Pacific Rim AU? Are they drift compatible with anyone? What would their jaeger be called?

Q. quiet. What would a quiet and peaceful life look like for your OC? Would they enjoy living a simple life or would they get bored?

R. royalty au. How would your OC handle being royalty? If they're already royalty, how would they deal with being a commoner? What kind of royal would your character be?

S. star wars au. What would your OC be like in a Star Wars AU? What era would they be in: sequel, prequel, original trilogy, old republic? Would they be Force sensitive?

T. (star) trek au. What would your OC's role be in a Star Trek AU? Are they part of Starfleet? Another organization?

U. underworld. How would your OC deal with being part of a criminal underworld? Would they be a thief, a spy, a conman? Something else?

V. vigilante au. What would your OC's superpower be? Would they be a hero or a villain? Do they believe that with great power comes great responsibility?

W. werewolves (& vampires). Is your OC more of a vampire or a werewolf? How would they feel about being turned into a creature of the night? Would they be part of a clan, a pack, a coven?

X. (e)xtra. Is there an AU missing from this list? Share something about it! What would your OC be like in that new world, story or scenario?

Y. YA. How would your OC fare in a popular YA franchise, like Hunger Games or Divergent? Would they buy into the system? Fight against it? What would their district/faction/house/etc. be?

Z. zootopia. What animal would your OC be if they were an anthropomorphic animal? Would your OC be a furry? What would their fursona be?

[lqveharrington]

Bugs and Creatures | C.S.

summary: although you lived in district 12 your entire life, you were deathly terrified of bugs

pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: fluff, entomophobia, coryo being slightly possessive

a/n: i actually have never written for buzzcut/peacekeeper coryo

You met Coriolanus Snow through the one and only Lucy Gray Baird. You had just gotten off stage after performing with Maude Ivory when she approached you with a peacekeeper in tow. At first, you were puzzled and a little uncomfortable by his presence before you realized that he was the one who helped Lucy Gray win the Hunger Games.

After realizing this — and a couple of shots — the both of you found yourselves a little too cozy in the small garage the Covey would spend their time in between sets. This then became a new thing between you two before you officially began seeing each other.

To you, Coriolanus was the sweetest and most overprotective person. To others, he was just a peacekeeper or someone who could hurt them with a talk with his general. You never did care about what they thought. You only cared about him. Well, that and him being able to fend off any insects coming your way.

“You do know that I know where we’re going right?” You laugh when Coriolanus covered your eyes. He asked you to tell him where the trail was toward the lake before covering your eyes, although poorly as you could still see the light passing through his fingers.

“I do,” He elongated the word and carefully guided you over the twigs and branches that scattered the floor. He lifted you up and over a fallen log, trusting you closed your eyes. “But, there’s a surprise waiting for you down there.”

You pursed your lips in amusement, “And you forgot the way over there already?”

“To be fair, Maude Ivory lead me there this morning.”

You let a laugh spill from your lips at the thought of him coming up to the house just to find the way to the lake house. He gently nudged you forward and continued the long trek.

Coriolanus kept you entertained with stories from the Capitol and surprise kisses anywhere he could. By the time you made it to the lake house, the sun was beginning its descent down. You could feel the sun’s rays hitting your skin before Coriolanus removed his hands to reveal the small picnic he set up earlier.

“All this for little ol’ me?” You put your hands on your hips and smile up at him.

Truly, the set up was gorgeous. There was a plaid blanket underneath a willow tree with small pillows and quilted blankets. On a small tray was so many different fruits that you didn’t expect to find in District 12, along with biscuits you never knew could look so delicious.

Coriolanus pulled you in by the curve of your waist and tilted your chin up with his thumb and pointer. “Little ol’ you deserves the world.”

He kissed your lips softly before pulling away and nudging you gently toward the picnic, guiding you toward the food and blankets.

You had a marvelous time. You and Coriolanus took more time to get to know one another, getting to know each and every secret and crevice unknown. He told you how peacekeeping was going and you told him how the Covey was doing, although you truly only played whenever Maude Ivory and Tam got on stage.

“Oh, come on, you have such a beautiful voice.” Coriolanus tucked a piece of strand hair behind your ear and played with its end. “And an even more beautiful face.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before bursting out laughing when he tackled you with tickles. His fingers were feathery across your stomach and only when you began gasping from breaths did he stop.

“Not fair.” You giggle softly as your chest rises and falls from slight exhaustion.

He sent you a cheeky smile before squinting his eyes. Coriolanus’ amusement slowly tampered down and he carefully sat up, keeping his eyes trained on the top of your head.

You sent him a quizzical look, “What?”

He pursed his lips and moved his hand over your head and flicking. Your eyes widened and realization and quickly scrambled out of your spot and behind Coriolanus.

“Did you get it off me?” You clung onto his shoulders in fright as you messed with your hair.

Coriolanus whipped his head around and grabbed your wrists tightly, making you look into his eyes. He slowly breathed and watched you match his breathing before letting go of you, resting his forehead on yours. He listened to your breathing for a second before speaking softly.

“You’re okay.” He murmured and ran his hands up and down your arms. “I didn’t let it touch you.”

Would Coriolanus ever admit that a spider was about to land on your head? No. Would he ever admit that it was a spider and not just a random insect? Absolutely not. You were terrified just from his motion, imagine the mention of any type of bug.

You nodded and sent him a sheepish smile, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out over such a small thing.”

He shrugged, “At least it wasn’t like last time.”

You felt your face warm up at the thought of last time. How you quite literally climbed on Coriolanus back and held a frying pan out toward a centipede on the counter of the Covey’s home. It was a mess by the time the rest of the Covey came home.

“Don’t worry.” He kissed your temple. “I’ll be here for a long time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah?” You pull away slightly and scrunch your nose.

“And you’re never allowed to ever leave me either.” Coriolanus spoke, almost demanding but you never noted that. “Promise?”

You kiss his lips, “As long as you kill every bug in existence that comes into my vicinity.”

He hummed and maneuvered you over his lap, grabbing your chin. “I think I can manage that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[rinasaurusrex]

good news everyone, my character has been presented with an opportunity to get railed

how to bring up to your dungeon master that your character might be better if she got railed

[rerarlo]

Siren MaoMao AU

This little thing has been in my head for a while now and i needed to throw her out there! Keep in mind this is a sketch tho

More info about this little AU under the read more

Okay! So I basically made the entire Verdigris house into a a school of sirens. And moved the Rear Palace + Red-Light District closer to the sea.

Sirens as ,per mythology, sing in order to attract their prey aka men. They can live both on their own or in large schools, younger sirens usually break off of their birth school or parents when they reach full maturity. However some do stay. Siren schools usually have a matriarch who is in charge of everybody. In this case its Granny aka the Old Bat of the Verdigris House. Now here's where we get into a bit of plot: MaoMao's bio-dad is still the very much human Lakan. How exactly did this happen? I am still ironing that out. But this makes MaoMao half human half siren. This comes with advantages and drawbacks.

One drawback is she can't sing like the others. So if she wants to get humans herself she has to rely on ambush tactics, although most of the time her sisters hunt for her. An advantage however is she can transform into a human. Which got her into a spot of trouble initially because she kept sneaking onto the shore and thats where she ran into and was adopted by Luomen. Although this transformation isn't flawless. Her teeth are slightly sharper than they should be, her mouth slightly wider, her nails slightly longer, her pupils just slightly cat shaped, there's stray scales on her back or legs. But it isn't something one would notice if they didn't look for it, most of the time. Another thing this transformation doesn't remove is her craving for human flesh. While yes she can substitute with raw meat, the cravings still claw at the back of her skull.

The story mostly follows canon. But every so often, MaoMao has to try and curb her cravings. Especially if there's an easy meal around her. Nobody would care if a servant went missing, at least not for a while. Lady Lihua would be an easy kill, she can't fight back. A body is offered to her on a silver platter, just for her to dissect.

She doesn't of course. She got attached to the servant. The Emperor would have her head if she harmed Lihua. It would be suspicious if the body has missing parts.

I think Jinshi would eventually, eventually, start piecing things together. He would notice her teeth, her mouth, her nails, her pupils, the intense way she looks at fresh meat. He's always looking at her after all. He would be reminded of those childish fairy tales he sometimes heard about. Creatures of the sea, tempting men to throw themselves from boats and devouring them.

Could it be true?

[bestruction]

i was the previous anon who asked about requests :D for sasuke i actually have a few ideas... so we know sasuke is like pretty stoic and traumatized so i was thinking of surprising him with a kitten to soften him up because i feel like he would fold and find it so cute even if he doesnt want to admit it and they r just playing with the kitten and its climbing on sasuke and just fluff, i really love the idea of gentle sasuke bc it gives me sm comfort :) i was also thinking of an au idea, i saw someone say they imagine the uchihas as asylum patients in a modern au bc of how insane and traumatizing their lives were and i was thinking of a oneshot or something of being sasukes nurse and slowly falling in love, it doesnt have to be a modern au though because i feel like a mental institution in the naruto universe isnt too unrealistic of an idea right? thank u for reading :) im going through a bad time rn and ur work has been so comforting

Hello there ❤️ I hope life is treating you better, and it made me genuinely happy to read that you find comfort in my stories. Thank you for sharing that with me.

I love both of your ideas! But for tonight, I'm picking Sasuke with a kitten one. I have a soft spot for kitties and him. It's a deadly combination to my mind and also, I loooove to explore how gentle he is although he is emotionally constipated.

Sasuke and kitty

You brought a kitty home, and he was very against it at first. You two barely had time for yourselves between missions and fixing the things in the Uchiha district. A pet isn't just cute. It's more responsibility but when he saw you crying? Big eyes saying you couldn't just leave the cat alone after bringing him home and giving them hope? He couldn't bring himself to say no.

So he agreed to keep the little animal under one condition: he was entirely your responsibility. Food, vet visits, training, playing, cleaning after...All you (he was actually trying to make you give up but it didn't work).

Weeks passed. True to his word, Sasuke did not lift a finger. He even named it "Trouble" ;-; He barely looked in Trouble’s direction, acting as if the tiny creature didn’t exist in the household. But you saw the way he paused in the mornings when the kitten curled up in the window. How he left his office door cracked open just enough for a curious nose to sneak in.

One evening, you came home early from a mission. The house was quiet, the kind of peace that hinted someone had already settled in for the night.

You stepped silently down the hallway and paused just at the corner of the sitting room.

Sasuke was on the floor.

Trouble sat on his chest, tiny paws kneading gently into his shirt, purring like a tiny engine. Sasuke’s hands, so often weapons of precision and destruction, were now playfully nudging a little ball of yarn the cat was batting back at him.

He didn’t even look annoyed.

No, he was�� smiling.

The soft kind. The kind no one ever saw.

Trouble crawled up and bopped Sasuke’s cheek with a paw. Sasuke let out a barely audible chuckle—a chuckle—and murmured, “You're a menace, just like her"

Your heart melted on the spot.

Of course, the moment he noticed you, his entire body stiffened. He carefully lifted the kitten off him and sat up as if you hadn’t just caught him.

“You’re home early.”

“Mmhmm.” You leaned on the doorway, trying to hide your grin. “You and Trouble seem to be getting along.”

He didn’t meet your eyes. “He got stuck in the shoji door. I had to get him out. He was… distressed.”

You blinked. “So you played with him for an hour? It looks like someone is falling in love”

“He is still your responsibility only”

You walked over and sat beside him. Trouble, sensing the perfect opportunity, promptly climbed onto your lap and curled into a ball of fur and sleep.

Sasuke gave the kitten a quick glance, then looked away.

“You’re allowed to like him, you know.”

“I don’t.”

You bumped his shoulder gently. “Right.”

He gave you a sideways look, then softened. “…Maybe he’s not entirely useless.”

You smiled, your hand brushing over his. Coming from him, that was huge praise.

“You're a softie, Sasuke.”

He scowled, but the corner of his lips betrayed him. “Don't push it.”

And somewhere between your laughter and the quiet purr of a cat finally safe and loved, Sasuke found that maybe… just maybe… some trouble was worth keeping around.

"We can't keep calling him Trouble, by the way," You say glaring at him because he was the one who stared it.

[underthepomegranatesdome]

In his arms

pairings: Sylus x MC

synopsis: He was her Savior. And she was the only one who could keep him from falling apart. But fate had never been kind, pulling them closer only to tear them apart.

notes: Late to the "Tomorrow's Savage" but still hope you guys enjoy the ride~

warnings: slightly contained content from Sylus’s Innocent Birdcage

tag: fluff & angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, praedator!sylus

wc: 4.545

WHENEVER SHE HEARD THE SOFT, rhythmic sound of running water from the bathroom in the early morning, she felt relieved. It meant last night was another peaceful night. There was no ambush while she was sleeping, or Sylus’s frenzy had gone. He had a habit of taking a shower every time he woke up and whenever the frenzy ended, as if scrubbing away the remnants of the beast crawling inside him.

She lay nestled in the lingering warmth of their shared bed, unwilling to open her eyes or move just yet. Memories of the past few years suddenly flickered through her mind like a film reel. Back then, she was just an orphan who lived on the streets and fought tooth and nail for her survival. No, not only her. Most people here in the Southern District had to do so. Stealing. Running. Hiding. Repeat. That was how they stayed alive.

Then she met Sylus.

There was a Praedator attack on the day they met, which was the worst thing that could happen here. Though the Northern District was no stranger to violence, this was completely different. The radioactive leak from EVER GROUP’s labs many years ago transformed many citizens in this city into “Praedator”, the monstrous, ravenous creatures who knew nothing but violence when their “frenzy” came. And they bit someone, there was no going back. No cure. No salvation. The best thing that one could do for them when they lost their mind to the frenzy was to give them a bullet right into their heart to end this miserable life forever.

She was bitten by a Praedator on that day. 

That memory haunted her sleep for many nights. Every time she closed her eyes, she found herself back on that street again. The air was filled with the stench of blood and terror. The sound of howling Praedators and screaming crowds were so vivid as if it happened right next to her. Amidst that chaos, she could still hear it, the voice of the Praedator who bit her. His voice echoed in her mind, making her flesh crawl. His nails sank into her flesh, his teeth piercing her shoulder like a sharp knife. She didn’t remember exactly how she managed to escape from him, but she could still remember the burning on her skin and the pain that shot through her veins.

You will become just like us. 

Her nightmare always ended the moment she saw Sylus tending his wounds at that abandoned pharmacy. She would wake up right then, drenched in sweat. Walking mindlessly on the cold floor with her bare foot, letting the chill seep into her skin, was one of many methods that she used to anchor herself in reality. And when those methods weren’t enough, she went to Sylus.

No matter how many times they moved, the layout of their house never changed - two bedrooms with a living room between them. And no matter how late it was, she always found him there. Sylus would sit on the couch, half-shrouded in the dim glow of the floor lamp, thoroughly maintaining his gun. His hands were always busy, assembling and disassembling the weapon at a steady pace. It must be the result of years of practice. Sylus barely slept at night. Maybe anyone who had lived on edge for years, with danger lurking around every corner, would be just like him. Old habits die hard. 

She would sit beside him with her knees drawn to her chest—just being near him made her feel at ease. He didn’t have to say a word. None of them talk during that time. Sometimes, she turned on the TV, scrolled through channels, and gradually fell asleep before noticing.  His familiar figure was enough to chase the nightmare that haunted her away.

Sylus had never turned her down, which made her bold enough to ask him to share a bed with her. In the beginning, it was only on nights when the nightmare was so overwhelming that she could not calm down, even sitting next to him.  

The first time was the hardest. After that, asking became easier, and she started asking more often. Not just on the worst nights. Not just when she couldn't differentiate between reality and her nightmare. Just because. Without either of them realizing it, sleeping beside each other had become a habit—one neither was willing to break.

His senses were incredibly sharp, even in his sleep. Hence, every time she jolted awake from a nightmare, he always knew—and he always had a way to lull her back to sleep. Sometimes, he would tell her the story of the sorceress and the dragon in the valley of Datura flowers. Other times, he would simply hold her in his arms, whispering soothing words as if they were spells.

No matter the method, it always worked. Ever since they started sleeping beside each other, the nightmares seemed to come less often.

The sound of water stopped, followed by a soft creak of the bathroom door. 

Sylus stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around his sturdy figure. His silver hair was still damp, a few stray strands falling carelessly over his forehead. Droplets of water traced along his muscular body before disappearing beneath the tower draped loosely around his hips. 

“Haven’t you seen enough, little dove?” He smirked, ruffling his hair with another towel before tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“I was afraid that you drowned in there.” She scoffed and rolled on her back.

“Is that so? Don’t miss me too much then.” 

“I won’t.” She stretched, pushed the blanket aside, and sat up. “That’s a waste of time. Finding a new one is a better option.”

“A new one, huh?” He chuckled, repeating her words. “Very tempting, but I'm afraid you won’t have that chance. At least for now.”

Sylus walked over to her bedside, leaning down just enough to close the distance between them. Her heart pounded as if it were about to burst from her chest when their lips were almost touching. He always loved teasing her like this. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Mister, is that a threat?” She whispered.

“It's a promise, my lady.”

Before she could reply, he sealed her lips with his. Their hot breath mingled, sending a shiver down her spine. This time, there was no teasing in his kiss, only burning desire - raw and unrestrained. Slow yet demanding, his lips moved against hers, claiming her with every move. His hands slid from her waist to her back, pressing her against him, like the way the predator held his prey.

She ran her fingers through his hair, playfully teasing the damp strands. His breath brushed against her skin—hot, intoxicating. The space between them had dwindled to nothing, so close that she felt as if she could hear his heartbeat, strangely mesmerizing. Her senses dulled, her mind slowed, and the only thing she could focus on was him.

When she was about to lose herself to his kiss completely, he suddenly pulled back, his lips barely brushing against hers. The warmth from his touches was still lingering on her skin. 

“Have you thought about the standards for the new one?” His voice was low and husky.

Her cheeks burned, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest as if she had just been caught red-handed. This man always knew how to tease her. This man always knew exactly what to say to get under her skin. She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away to create space between them. She took a deep breath and got off the bed.

“Let’s go out.” Her face held a serious expression.

“Oh?” Sylus raised a bow, clearly amused.

“It’s Azure’s Echoe day. And spending this whole day at home is a waste of time.” She crossed her arms, standing on her ground. 

“Are you asking me on a date?” His lips curved into a subtle smirk as he studied her.

“D-Don’t overthink it.” She quickly looked away, avoiding his gaze. “It’s just I’m bored and…”

“Forty minutes.” 

“What?” She blinked.

“Thirty.” He corrected himself, turning toward his closet. “Aren’t we going on a date? We should get dressed then.”

This man was always unpredictable like this.

***

Compared to the Southern District, the Northern District was a heaven on earth. 

There were two things in this district that the Southern District could never have: peace and security. Even though this was not her first time here, she couldn’t help but be amazed by the lavishness of this district.

Skyscrapers stood tall, packed closely together, their glass surfaces shimmering under the gentle sunlight. For a fleeting moment, she almost believed the entire city was made of crystal. The latest model cars cruised along the streets, their LED underglow casting vibrant neon hues onto the pavement. Pedestrians strolled along the sidewalks, their hands full of shopping bags, mostly luxury brands.

She and Sylus rarely had a day like this. Since they first met, their life had always been full of dangers. It felt strange, almost unreal, to have him walk beside her, their fingers entwined loosely. They looked like any normal couple on Azure’s Echo Day as if they belonged here.

The shopping mall in the center of the Northern District was the last destination on their journey. 

The automatic door slid open as they stepped inside, greeted by a faint, charming scent of roses mixed with the sweetness of pastries. In mid-air, a floating billboard hovered effortlessly, its holographic shifted between advertisements for Azure’s Echo Day’s exclusive collections, from jewelry, perfumes, and dresses to all the luxury this city offered. 

Every store inside the mall was decorated with fresh flowers and ribbon, mostly in shades of white and blue. Mannequins from the high-end boutiques dressed in limited-edition collections for the day stood under falling holographic rose petals. In the glass displays of the jewelry stores, the gemstone-encrusted pieces looked even more mesmerizing under the lights. 

Each time her eyes paused on certain pieces, Sylus bought it. A pair of ruby earrings, a delicate bracelet with a heart-shaped charm, even a ridiculous crow plushie with a white scarf she only glanced at for a second.

“You don’t have to buy everything I look at, or you might burn through your entire retirement savings.” She huffed.

“Oh, too bad, my hand slipped. Are you worried about me, sweetie?” He chuckled, tapping his card against the POS machine. “Besides, feel free to test whether you can spend money faster than I made it.”

She glared at him but hugged the crow plushie he placed in her arms tightly, burying her face in its soft feathers. Somehow, this plushie looked just like him, especially the grumpy expression. Sylus always had this expression when he thought she was being reckless.

“Hm… Thinking about that, we may need to return the plushie.”

“Forget about it. Don’t touch my Mephie.”

“You named it already? Interesting.”

Many shops offered special promotions for couples on Azure’s Echo Day. Among the countless vibrant advertisements, one caught her eye. A glowing liquid cascaded into the heart-shaped molds on the floating holographic screen. After the chocolates were removed from the molds, they emitted a soft, subtle glow before being arranged in a box tied with a pink ribbon. The shimmering message above them was catchy: Melt in love. Capture your sweet moments with us.

“Interested?” Sylus noticed immediately.

“A little…” She hesitated, crafting things like that had never been her strong suit.

“Let’s go, then.” Before she could protest, he had already seized her hand and led her toward the chocolate-decorating workshop. 

She sighed, letting him pull her along.

***

The workshop was held at a booth on the third floor of the shopping mall. The space was decorated in soft pastel tones, perfectly complementing the romantic atmosphere of the day. The sweet aroma of chocolate, vanilla, and other ingredients filled the air.

Long wooden tables were neatly arranged, each set with vibrant aprons, a bowl of melted chocolate, and a tray of decorative toppings—candied orange slices, crushed nuts, dried strawberries, and a few other embellishments she couldn’t quite name.

In Linkon, it was tradition for couples to make chocolate together on Azure’s Echo. According to legend, if they shared the chocolate and kissed under the mistletoe at midnight, their bond would last forever. That was likely why the workshop was bustling with couples today. They stood around the wooden tables, laughing freely as they experimented with different molds and decorations.

With the guidance of the instructor, their chocolates were soon completed. After carefully packing them into separate boxes, the two left the booth and continued their outing.

Upon returning to the first floor of the shopping mall, her attention was immediately drawn to a small café near the entrance. Compared to the other shops, it looked rather simple, even somewhat unremarkable. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t noticed it when they first arrived.

Sylus didn’t object when she tugged on his hand, silently suggesting they stop by.

The scent of coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked pastries. Above them, mistletoe hung from the ceiling—a quiet reminder of Azure’s Echo traditions. The soft glow of warm lighting bathed the space, adding to its romantic charm.

They chose a table by the window, offering an unobstructed view of the plaza outside. Neon lights from the advertisement boards cast vibrant, shifting colors onto the glass. Sinking comfortably into the plush seat, she immediately opened the two chocolate boxes they had made earlier.

Does a man who excels at everything truly exist? She wondered as she looked at the two boxes of chocolate. They had been made with the same ingredients and followed identical steps, yet the results were worlds apart.

One box was filled with flawless chocolate pieces—elegantly decorated and neatly arranged. The other… well, it had its charm. Some pieces were slightly misshapen, others bore decorations that strayed a little from their original design. Still, they looked quite cute and were edible.

She clicked her tongue, stealing a glance at Sylus, who was calmly inspecting their handiwork. He was annoyingly good at everything—from shooting to cooking, and now, even making chocolates. Was there anything in this world that could challenge him?

“What’s with that frown, little dove?” His deep, husky voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Why are you even good at making chocolate? It’s irritating,” She muttered, frowning.

He chuckled, leaning in slightly. “You know, my job requires a sharp eye and steady hands.” A teasing glint flickered in his eyes as he studied her. “Let’s make a deal. Two of mine for one of yours.”

“Tch, you’re just looking for an excuse to eat my chocolate.” She turned to him, her expression showing nothing but disinterest in his offer.

“Oops, caught me.” Sylus didn’t look the least bit guilty. Instead, he casually plucked a piece of chocolate from her box and popped it into his mouth without hesitation.

“You…” She tried to find a retort, but before she could, Sylus had already taken another piece from his box.

“Open your mouth.”

“You know, I can eat my chocolate just fine,” she said, doing her best to resist the temptation of the chocolate in his hand.

“But where’s the fun in that? Besides, they all belong to you anyway.”

She hesitated for a moment before finally accepting the chocolate from Sylus. The sweetness, blended with a slight bitterness, melted on her tongue, bursting into rich flavors. As someone with a sweet tooth, she could never resist treats like this.

Sylus watched her with a gaze full of fondness as she savored the chocolate. Now and then, he would throw in a teasing remark, clearly amused whenever she fired back at him. Though he could be a little annoying at times, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed these peaceful moments—being at ease with someone she cared for, without worrying about the dangers that constantly lurked around them.

What more could she possibly ask for?

The shrill sound of the fire alarm suddenly rang out, drowning the romantic Valentine’s melody playing throughout the shopping mall. Overlapping voices filled the air—announcements blaring over the speakers, the crash of shattering glass, panicked screams, and the sharp cracks of gunfire mingled with the guttural snarls of predators. A dense, murky fog of unknown origin rapidly consumed the space, carrying a pungent chemical scent—sickeningly unpleasant, yet strangely familiar. People scattered in all directions, desperate to escape the clutches of the monsters lurking in the chaos.

She trembled, feeling as if all the strength had been drained from her body. Images from her nightmares clashed with reality, the two bleeding into each other until she could no longer tell them apart. Her breath came in rapid, shallow gasps, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs, squeezing her chest with unbearable pressure. Her fingers dug into Sylus’s arm, clinging to the last shreds of her consciousness, willing herself not to be swallowed by the darkness threatening to consume her.

She heard him call her name. Amidst the deafening noise, his voice cut through—steady, familiar. A lifeline pulling her back from the abyss. He was here. He was still here. This time, she wasn’t alone.

Lifting her head, she met his pomegranate-red gaze. Though the trembling had subsided, the lingering tightness in her chest made every breath a struggle. Her grip on Sylus remained firm as if to anchor herself in reality.

“Look at me,” his steady voice commanded.

She swallowed hard, locking eyes with him and forcing herself to follow his lead. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. Slowly, the crushing weight of panic loosened its grip on her. This wasn’t the time for weakness. She reminded herself of that. Her hand, still clutching his arm, loosened before gliding down to the firearm strapped to her thigh. The cold touch of metal cut through the fog in her mind.

The snarls of the predators grew louder, their shadows closing in from all directions, eyes glinting with bloodthirsty malice. She lifted her gun with steady hands, aiming directly at the creature lunging toward them. Her finger tightened on the trigger, and the bullet tore through its skull. The beast collapsed in a lifeless heap.

She was no longer the helpless child unable to protect herself. She was stronger than that.

“How do you want to end this date, little bird?” Sylus leaned toward her, his tone carrying an amused lilt.

“Shall we dance a waltz?”

***

Once again, she found herself back on the familiar streets of the Southern District—still the same chaos filled with terrified screams, gunfire, and the guttural growls of the predator. The streets were empty. No one was there. Just her, the Praedator, and their endless chase.

She ran with all her strength, ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder.

The pharmacy was just ahead. If she could make it there, she would be safe. This nightmare would end. Relief surged through her, pushing her legs to move faster.

Or so she thought.

The moment she stepped inside, chains of unknown origin suddenly coiled around her knees, yanking her down. She crashed onto the floor, pain jolting through her body. Frantically, she struggled, trying to free herself, but the more she fought, the tighter the chains constricted.

Panic clawed at her mind, drowning out all rational thought. The only thing she knew was that the predator was getting closer.

His shadow stretched across the floor.

He came.

She didn’t dare lift her head. Her body trembled uncontrollably. He was here. And this time, there was no escape. The darkness loomed closer, accompanied by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps and a low, menacing growl.

“Won’t you help me?”

The familiar voice made her freeze.

Sylus.

She lifted her gaze, and instead of the monstrous figure she had expected, she saw him. His crimson eyes reflected her own tear-streaked, fear-stricken face. She wanted to say something—anything.

But no words came out.

***

Her back was drenched in sweat. Reaching under her pillow, she searched for the familiar feel of her gun, the cold metal grounding her, helping her steady her breath. The nightmare had returned once again.

The silence from the bathroom was unsettling. A sudden wave of unease surged through her. Could it be that Sylus’s frenzy hadn’t passed yet? No, that couldn’t be. His frenzy never lasted beyond a night—at least, not recently.

Yes, Sylus was a predator.

Sometimes, even she forgot that fact because he was so good at keeping himself under control. But lately, his condition had been worsening. Ever since he started taking suppressants, the frenzies had become more frequent, each one lasting longer than the last.

That strange scent she had picked up yesterday—it was the smell of the Frenzy Enhancer. That was why the ones at the mall had been so uncontrollably violent.

Sylus hadn’t been spared from its effects either.

The signs had been there from the moment they escaped the mall. His body had burned with feverish heat, his breath had turned shallow and ragged, and his eyes had clouded over. The moment they returned home, he had wordlessly turned and shut himself inside the guest bedroom. 

She knew he was fighting to keep his mind from being completely overtaken. She also knew he didn’t want her to see him like that. He didn’t want her to witness the monster lurking within him breaking free.

But she couldn’t bring herself to abandon him either.

Standing outside his locked door, she had tried to come up with countless reasons to stop herself from going in. Sylus didn’t want her to see him at his worst. He didn’t want to risk hurting her. He didn’t want her putting herself in danger.

In the end, she had chosen to return to her room.

She had tried to sleep, hoping that by the time she woke up, everything would be back to normal. But the moment she drifted off, the nightmare had been waiting for her—like it had never left. She never should have asked him to go to the Northern District today.

She bolted upright and swung her legs over the bed, her feet hitting the cold floor as she rushed toward the hallway. Once again, she found herself standing in front of his door. But this time, she didn’t hesitate.

The door creaked open the moment she laid a hand on it, revealing the dimly lit room beyond. She stepped inside.

The weak glow from the floor lamp in the corner was enough to illuminate the scene before her. Sylus was slumped against the iron bars of the cage in the center of the room. Heavy chains bound his legs and one of his arms. He had once told her that the cage—and the chains—were his way of keeping the monster inside him at bay. His clouded garnet eyes locked onto her the moment she entered.

“Won’t you help me?” His voice was hoarse, just like in her dream.

She swallowed hard and took slow, measured steps toward the cage.

He was in worse condition than she had imagined. Black veins snaked up his throat and arms, stark against his pale skin. His wrists were covered in scratches—evidence of his struggle against the frenzy. His breathing was heavy, and uneven.

She had never seen him like this before.

Without a second thought, she unlocked the cage and stepped inside. The last chain lay before her. She picked it up and hesitated for only a moment before meeting his gaze. Not once did his eyes leave her as she moved. The sharp clang of metal against metal shattered the silence as he tightened his grip on the chain.

“The suppressants…” Her throat felt dry.

“Hmp… Looks like they’re no longer effective on me.” He let out a dry laugh, his voice dripping with mockery.

The clanking of chains grew louder as he began to rise to his feet. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on the chain in her hands. Sylus tilted his head slightly, his gaze darkening, becoming more feral. It was as if the beast inside him was starting to take control.

The urge to run flashed through her mind.

No, she didn’t want him to succumb completely to the monster within.

Suddenly, Sylus lunged at her. 

She dodged, her hands tightening around the chain. But he didn’t stop. He came at her again, faster, more relentless. If not for the shackles around his legs slowing him down, he would have caught her by now. The third time he pounced, she seized the fleeting opportunity—throwing all her strength into locking the final chain around his free wrist.

A sharp clink.

Both his hands and legs were now bound. The force of his movements sent him stumbling backward. She immediately retreated a few steps, putting distance between them. He was the one who had once taught her that even a hunter needed to ensure their safety before facing their prey.

“You scared?” His lips curled into a smirk. “Your idea of ‘help’ is heart-warming”

Sylus took a slow step forward. She instinctively stepped back. Her back hit the cold metal frame of the cage. She looked between him and the chains restraining him. The shackles were pulled taut, the cage door still open. This was her only chance to escape.

Snap!

The sudden sound of breaking chains shattered all her hopes.

There was nothing left to restrain him now.

She hurriedly turned to run, but Sylus immediately caught her wrist, yanking her back. His hands clamped around her like a vice, leaving no room for escape. His scorching breath brushed against her neck, followed by a sharp sting as he bit down on the curve of her ear.

This was no longer the man she knew.

She struggled, waiting for the slightest moment of distraction to break free. But Sylus gave her no such chance. He shoved her onto the cold floor, pinning her wrist above her head with one hand. Lowering himself slightly, his garnet eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint, reflecting her panic-stricken face. Her entire body was trapped beneath him.

"Sh…Now you will never fly away, my little bird."

***

She had no idea how long she had been lying there.

The only thing reminding her that she was still alive was the dull, aching pain spreading through every inch of her body. She wanted to scream, but no sound escaped—her throat burned raw. But she was still breathing. Perhaps it was sheer willpower that had carried her through.

Heavy, uneven breaths lingered in the air. It wasn’t over yet.

She knew now—this was no longer the man who had once saved her from danger all those years ago. That person was gone. What remained was something cruel, something ruthless. The monster had finally broken free.

And it was all because of her.

So she had to be the one to put an end to it.

***

The warmth that once held her close was gone. Now, she was alone in this sinful, unforgiving world.

[hoolyelina]

do we fw the new house its a bit of a wip and there will be more similar ones but i like it

[mamayan]

Hii can I request Gyomei x prostitute fem reader nsfw.....plsss

Gyomei Himejima x Fem! Reader

cw: NSFW • Darker Themes • Attempted murder (of reader) • Fem! Reader • prostitute reader • Fluff/Comfort • Size kink • Breeding kink • Sub/switch! Reader • Edging/Denial • Overstimulation • Oral (F)

“Namu Amida Butsu. Pitiful creature.” He doesn’t need vision to understand what was going on in the lively square of the red district tonight.

Normally a bubble of carnal desires and pleasure, many forgot the festering underbelly of this part of the city. He’s on a mission, needs to focus and do his job, but something keeps stopping him.

Possibly the kakushi by his side crying softly, pitying the poor soul on a trial meant to convict whether the offending party is guilty or not. How can an upright samurai be in the wrong in any way? It must be the fault of the lowly whore which should have known her place. Such disgusting beliefs made his gut churn, but he’s aware there is little one can do in this situation.

He needs to leave, walk away, and kill the demon living just on the outskirts of this district.

So why won’t his feet move?

“This bitch is getting what she deserves, and let her serve as a warning to all the workers in the district!”

“Oh no, is he going to decapitate her?!” The kakushi beside him gasps in horror, drawing his focus away from his chants to regain his will power and instead breaking his concentration as he focuses on the slurred drunk words of a man. The crowd is thickening, attention drawn to the spectacle but most of all, the promise of blood shed. “Gyomei-sama…” it would appear the kakushi wishes him to intervene.

He can’t. He’s not supposed to anyway. He knows nothing of the woman’s crimes nor any clear indication on how to pass judgement.

“For trying to run from the great Habuyoshi who mearly admired the beauty! For daring to raise these weak fists at the great Habuyoshi! For biting the dick of the great Habuyoshi! I am putting this filthy dog down!” The crowd was cheering, jeering him on, even begging he kill her after violating her for the crowd to watch, or wanting to do it themselves. Gyomei had heard the red light district was filled with glistening gold and red, and it enrages his heart to think such an auspicious color is tied to such a festering diseased place. No one won here. Ever.

Before the kakushi could move, he’d already made his presence known, easily knocking the samurai unconscious.

The crowd stared in awe and fear of the enormous man wielding only prayer beads, defeating the well known samurai of the area so easily with only a single blow.

“Who owns this prostitute?”

None speak up for a moment, tension thick in the air as a savior appears for a once thought dead woman.

“M-me…” an elderly woman far past her prime shakily steps out, her guilty and shifty expression not seen by the man looking at nothing, but her nervous energy radiated off in waves for all to feel.

“I’ll buy her.”

“Gyomei-sama?!”

“Huh—?”

You awoke with minimal pain.

The jarring events of the night prior swirling in your mind and dumbfounding you because what was that?

You nearly died because a strange man grabbed you off the street while you were running an errand and tried to rape you in an alley way. Of course you fought back, but it seems that’s a crime if the perpetrator is stronger than you.

Tears fell despite your anger. You were no longer a prostitute, your freedom seemingly bought out of kindness but you knew not to trust anything given freely. There’s always a price, and your life thus far had taught you to be witty and at least somewhat charming. Though it hardly did much for you last night when the crowd roared for your execution like your life meant so little.

Your new owner is more terrifying than your previous house mother. At least she’d been open about her greedy vile mindset, but this man is nothing short of an enigma. Why did he save you? What is the purpose? What should you do now? It left you riddled with anxiety as you sat in a bed more comfortable than you could ever remember sleeping in, the blankets and pillows too of better quality than the red light district ever provided even for the top courtesans. You’d been given plain but high quality clothing as well, allowed to bathe alone, and then fed a vegetarian meal so delicious you wondered if the Buddhist monks had it much better than you gave them credit for.

Now you slept, in a room all to yourself, with no idea of what was to come next.

Did he want you as a wife? That didn’t seem right though. He didn’t appear the romantic type, and his size alone mildly frightened you despite his soft demeanor and speech. Were you to act as a servant? Did he wish to sell you to another area and call it good karma, leaving the matter as that? It ate away until you could no longer stand it, rising from the bed you longed to stay in forever, and slipping out of your room to explore the estate.

It’s shockingly empty.

Not a soul in sight as you explored, stealing bread from the kitchen as you walked, pondering the possibility of ghost servants. You felt silly and dismissed it, but the eerie silence was begining to get to you. You turned and headed for an opening, finally finding a serene courtyard. You were awestruck by the landscape, attention quickly caught as you spot a small pond with a bridge.

Hope bloomed and then flourished as you spotted several fat pretty koi swimming about, different colored patterns moving around and hypnotizing you.

“Ssshhwink!” You jolted in shock at the loud sound of a blade being struck, eyes honing in on the source as you see a training ground of sort in the distance.

Shock was the least of your current emotions as you watched the enormous man, your supposed savior for now, swing around an axe and spiked flail attached to a very long chain. Surrounding him were multiple dummies, made from steel, as if you weren’t already shocked silly. For someone so large, he was graceful and fast, skilled in each tiny movement and it nearly made you think of a dance you’d seen long ago at a festival when you were a child.

He’s no one ordinary. That’s clear enough, and he’s not a samurai it seemed either.

He could kill you quicker than that man before and he could’ve killed that man too but chose not to. Your heart trembled, because you knew those that hesitated left empty handed, and if his goal was merely to rescue and abandon you then you’d find yourself back to being sold off or worse.

You needed him to keep you, no matter how his appearance made your knees weak.

“Are you hungry?”

One week. You’d been in his estate one week and this was the first conversation you’d had with him since that night he saved you.

“Namu Amida Butsu. Thank you.” He accepts the lunch you prepared, as you learned fast that once he’d brought you into his estate, he’d been abandoned by his cooks. His servants who cleaned or kept things in order were incredibly well trained and avoided you similarly. You’d been cooking his meals and leaving them outside his room in the morning, and he’d usually be gone for most of the day until very late evening where you’d leave his dinner outside his small study or prayer room.

This was your first chance to initiate contact with him, and it made you swallow your nerves as you came up eye level with his abdomen. He accepts the tray, sitting at the small table in the open courtyard. He repeats his chants while you observe him up close for a moment.

He is handsome in a rugged way. His scars surprisingly only adding character. His thin lips and long lashes would’ve made many woman jealous as well.

“This is very delicious. You’re a good cook.” You startle lightly from your day dream as you stare at him with wide eyes, his face still tilted down as he eats.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hadn’t expected to find your company so pleasant.

Your presence was easy, comfortable and enjoyable after you warmed up more, chattering away similarly to the love Hashira at times. It made a strange sort of fondness form in his chest as he listens to your opinion on cherry blossom season, and why mochi is best served cold.

He finds himself rushing now after missions to return to his estate, something he’d never have done in the past. If only to hear your greeting of “welcome home” which makes the estate he’d been given actually feel like one.

You held his hand a few days ago, pulling him quickly and quietly to feel the soft fur of a sleeping cat you’d taken to adopting. He remembers the feel of your skin, the fragility of your hand within his, and how tiny you are. It shouldn’t affect him like this. Yet even as he sits below the icy fall of water in a lotus pose, his aching erection won’t ebb.

He’s ashamed the first time he wraps one big calloused palm around his leaking shaft and fucks his fist to the thought of you.

He’s even more ashamed when those thoughts haunt him in your presence.

He’s alarmed however when he wakes tonight to the sound of his shoji sliding open. Not by the intruder, your footsteps much louder ironically when you attempt to be quiet, but by the timing.

He released his cock and laid still, strangely nervous to appear asleep should you check.

Why were you in his room?

He chants in his mind when he hears fabric rustling, then a plop on the floor as something slides and falls. Were you… undressing?

His room felt hotter, or it may have possibly been him, as the sound of you nearing alerts him to a reason you’re here tonight.

“I know you are awake.” You sound bemused.

“I know you should be in bed.” He replies more shakily than he’d hoped to sound.

“I am trying, but you won’t seem to move over for me.” His breath hitches, and before he can think he’s scooting aside and feeling anxious for the first time in a long time. He’s too old now to be fearful of such a tiny woman, your charms and allure certainly difficult to dismiss but you shouldn’t make his hands sweat like this.

“Fuck,” he doesn’t mean to curse, but when you press your nude figure tight against his side, he nearly embarrasses himself by finishing what he’d started before you’d interrupted. Not that he nor his cock minded your company, in fact it twitched as if excited about your presence.

“It feels better if you face me.”

“What are you doing?” He feels flustered, hands desperate to grab you but unsure exactly if he should.

“Seducing you…?” He hears now the unsure tone you speak with, the way your fingers curl into his yukata to prevent him from pushing you away. He shifts and turns, the futon thankfully custom for his size and fitting you fully as he finally touches you. Your face first at least.

“Are you looking at me?”

“Yes.”

“Am I pretty?” He chuckles, smile making you press your thighs together due to the sheer masculine charm he oozed.

“You are soft.” He drops his voice as he presses a hand to the middle of your back and pulls you closer. His body radiates heat like none other you’ve ever felt, all pillowy muscles and smelling of sandalwood and sage, and something else beneath it that made your teeth ache. “You are considerate and empathetic.” His hands smooth over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips. “You are cute and witty, I find I laugh most in your presence.” His thumbs lightly graze over your eyes. “You are intelligent. I feel I can confide in you and be understood.” Down your jaw and chest, over your shoulders and down your arms to your hands shaking lightly. “You are also mischievous, I never know what you’ll come up with…” his hands come back up, one loosely and easily encircling your entire throat. “Like sneaking into a man’s room in the middle of the night and climbing into his bed naked.” He means to sound chastising but his lust is difficult to mask. Your giggle lets him know you take it lightly.

“Not some man’s room… your room, Gyomei.”

It’s like you want to set him off.

“Should I go?” He can’t deny the way it ignites him to have you here.

“No.” He groans lightly, hands finally taking the dip you’d both been aching for and feeling your chest. “You don’t get to leave now. At least not until you explain what is it is you search for.”

“Relief?” He frowns, but becomes quickly distracted by the malleable flesh in his hands, thumbs brushing over pebbled nipples and drawing little sighs from you.

“A-and… I guess confirmation.” He pinches on little bud, rewarded with a tiny moan and the arching of your back.

“Confirmation for what?” He murmurs, debating if you being atop him would be easier.

“That you like me.” He halts, startled by the confession.

“You thought I didn’t like you?” He clarifies, finally deciding and easily lifting you up by the hips to sit on his stomach, thighs on either side of him.

“I didn’t know if it was the sort between lovers or not…” he nods, finally understanding.

“I want you deeply, sweet girl.” He doesn’t miss the shiver which shakes you when he calls you that, smile tilting higher into a crooked smirk as he lifts his hands and runs them over your ass, gently squeezing each cheek and then moving to touch your thighs.

You don’t speak as he feels you up, quiet aside from small pleasurable mewls when he plays with your breasts or spreads your ass and let’s cool air hit your cunt.

“Do you touch yourself?”

“Y-yes…?”

“To the thought of me?” You feel your body heat.

“Yes. Always to the thought of you.” Your answer makes him groan, hips rutting up into nothing as he squeezes your hips.

“What do I do to you then, in your fantasies.” He’s desperate to know, desperate to recreate it. Your nails dig into the muscle on his chest, dwarfed on top of him like this.

“Oh, well, I… sit on your face.” He quirks a brow at the odd fantasy, unfamiliar with such an act.

“And do what?”

“Let you lick me, down here.” He allows you to guide his hand to the warmest place on your body, his mind blanking as he realizes.

“Oh.”

“We don’t have to do that though, let’s do what you want—oh!” He’s hauling you up like a doll onto his face, thighs spread on either side and your pussy spread and easily accessible now for his mouth. Gyomei doesn’t hesitate now, tongue slipping out as dragging through your folds as if he’s done this before. He hasn’t but he makes up for it with his wide and powerful tongue and eagerness to learn.

“Gyomei! I—ngh~!” Your moan when he licks at your pussy is more than he ever imagined. The wanton swivel of your hips as you grind down only make him more feral, large hands firmly on your ass and keeping you pressed down. Oxygen the least of his concerns as he licks and sucks until your writhing and digging your nails into his hair while you cry out for him.

He likes this act much more than his own daydreams of being intimate with you, the heady taste of your slick and sounds of your pleasure like a drug.

“I’m going to cum—!” You’re so close it’s a wonder you don’t tip over even as he lifts you completely off his face.

“H-huh?” You sound dazed and confused, so cute it makes him want to settle you down on his face again but he stops himself.

You’re on your back, looking up at his figure not blanketing you, one arm keeping him up as he lifts your chin and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips.

“You can’t cum yet.” You feel irritable having your orgasm denied, pouty expression unseen but tone converting your emotions.

“Why?” Gyomei smiles, kissing you again and forcing your mouth open to play with your tongue, sliding his thigh between your own so you can grind on him for relief.

He breaks away with a string of saliva connecting you for a moment, warm breath fanning over you. “It will hurt taking me, but it will hurt less if you cum while I’m inserting it.”

Oh. It made sense actually.

Except he doesn’t move ahead to fucking you like you wanted, asking you for more fantasies you‘ve had of him.

“Using your fingers…” and he opened you up more than any man has ever with his fingers alone. Two alone stuffing your poor cunt seemingly to max and once more bringing you to the edge until you felt like crying when he pulled away.

“Shh,” he cooes, mildly upset he’s causing you distress and equally amused by how cute he finds your grumbling as he rearranges you again. This time he just rolls your clit gently with his thumb and kisses you, lavishing your neck in love bites you’ll surely need help covering in the morning and then giving attention to your breasts.

“Gyomei please!” Your third denial felt nearly painful, your core cramping with the desperate need for release as you wiggle and struggle beneath him.

“You’ll be very sorry if I take you now, be good for me, little lotus.” He kisses away your tears of frustration, once more spearing you open with two fingers until you’re moaning and rolling your hips into him, then he adds a third.

He stills when you hiss in pain, concern painting his features as he moves to pull them out only for your hand to stop him.

“It’s okay! I’m alright, it just stings a little.”

“We can stop here, I’ll make you cum and we can go back to sleep—,”

“No! I want you, please.”

He feels hesitant until you begin to relax, body finally accepting three fat fingers stretching your little hole out as slick drips down his palm and soaks into bed below.

“G-Gyomei please let me cum, I can take you even if I do, I just need—!” You’re so close again, but he’s stringent as he pulls free from your soft tight walls with a pop. Your whine of frustration goes ignored as he finally reaches his own limit.

“I’m going to sit you in my lap.” You’re pliant in his hold as he sits up and drags you with him, placing your back to his front as he unties his yukata and allows himself to be free. He gives himself a few pumps, balls swinging heavy as he sits down with you.

You regret looking down in curiosity. Having known some men, despite being quite big physically, can have small penises.

Gyomei isn’t one of them apparently, his caution not without cause as you see the enormous cock he carries, the thick veiny shaft frightening and leaking pre-cum like a stream. Even his balls were ridiculously large, and you briefly pondered taking his offer of going to sleep.

You shook it off as you felt a gentle kiss to your temple, body relaxing as he began another round of torture to your clit with more gentle rolls with his fingers.

“Relax for me, you’re being so good, all mine,” he’s mumbling, body tense as he holds himself back and prepares mentally to keep calm as he lifts you up and lets the plush tip kiss your entrance. Then you’re feeling pleasure and pressure like nothing you‘ve ever felt before, mind going blank as you cum while he stuffs you to full capacity, Gyomei similarly struggling as he moans feeling your gooey walls contract and try to push him out even as gravity drags you down on his cock.

“Gyo—hah—!” You can hardly breathe, body struggling to connect the pain while you’re writhing pleasure as he wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up and down, still touching your swollen nub, bullying his cock into you one inch at a time. Your squeals of shock and euphoria nearly make him lose it, and when his tip finally smushes up against your cervix, he cums hard.

“I-I can feel it filling me—,” your eyes roll back as hot spurts of cum pump into your womb, Gyomei’s arm like an anchor as he groans and rocks you gentle against him.

“Feels so good…” he’d never known sex could feel like this, that you felt like this, but he’s unable to pull out despite his cock becoming sensitive. Instead he keeps you in place, plugging your little hole with his cock and keeping every drop of cum inside you where it belongs.

That thought startles him. Did he want to make you pregnant? Did he want a family?

More than anything—

Gyomei groans, hushing you as you whine and wiggle in his lap, feeling his cock swelling thick and hard again inside you. “Gyomei—s’too much,” you feel like you’ll burst, body already exhausted but he’s hardly done it seems as he begins to bounce you again, feeling more akin to a toy as his shaft splits your pussy open. The slick squelching noises blend with your moans and his grunts, his cock burying itself as deeply as possible each thrust as he murmurs praise down into your ear.

“So good for me. Taking all of me so well,”

“Do you like feeling my cum inside you? Do you want more?”

“I’m going to fill you up again, make you nice and full.”

“Going to put a baby inside you, let everyone know you’re mine now.”

You’re gone, too cock drunk to do much else but cum around him and moan, drool spilling down your chin in a thin line as he takes away all coherent thoughts.

You awake the next morning sore and groggy, face confused as you look at a room not your own.

You glance down at the arm keeping you trapped, merely draped over you but so weighted you’d need to wake him to move.

He got you filthy last night, cum coating all of you inside and out before he’d washed you and put you to bed. The memory brings heat to your face as you burry yourself into the bed and smile.

He’s yours now too.

Your story to be told as one from rags to riches.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e]

Lestat/Armand + Moments that makes me feel Insane

If there had been a summons, I never heard it. If there was a greeting, I didn't sense it now. He was merely looking at me, a radiant creature in jewels and scalloped lace. And it was Cinderella revealed at the ball, this vision, Sleeping Beauty opening her eyes under a mesh of cobwebs and wiping them all away with one sweep of her warm hand. The sheer pitch of incarnate beauty made me gasp. Yes, perfect mortal raiment, and yet he seemed all the more supernatural, his face too dazzling, his dark eyes fathomless and just for a split second glinting as if they were windows to the fires of hell. And when his voice came it was low and almost teasing, forcing me to concentrate to hear it: All night you've been searching for me, he said, and here I am, waiting for you. I have been waiting for you all along. - The Vampire Lestat

He looked to Gabrielle, who stood near the fire, and then to me. And silently, he said, Love me. You have destroyed everything! But if you love me, it can all be restored in a new form. Love me. This silent entreaty had an eloquence, however, that I can't put into words. "What can I do to make you love me?" he whispered. "What can I give? The knowledge of all I have witnessed, the secrets of our powers, the mystery of what I am?" It seemed blasphemous to answer. And as I had on the battlements, I found myself on the edge of tears. For all the purity of his silent communications, his voice gave a lovely resonance to his sentiments when he actually spoke. - The Vampire Lestat

"It wasn't that I wanted vengeance," he whispered. His face was stricken, his heart broken. He said. "But you came to be healed, and you did not want me! A century I had waited, and you did not want me!" And I knew, as I had all along really, that my restoration was illusion, that I was the same skeleton in rags, of course. And the house was still a ruin. And in the preternatural being who held me was the power that could give me back the sky and the wind. "Love me and the blood is yours," he said. "This blood that I have never given to another." I felt his lips against my face. "I can't deceive you," I answered. "I can't love you. What are you to me that I should love you? A dead thing that hungers for the power and the passion of others? The embodiment of thirst itself?" [...] Yet memory plays its tricks. Maybe I imagined it, his last invitation, and the anguish after. The weeping. I do know that as the months passed he was out there again. I heard him from time to time just walking those old Garden District streets. And I wanted to call to him, to tell him that it was a lie I'd spoken to him, that I did love him. I did. - The Vampire Lestat

In a way, he made me think of a child doll, with brilliant faintly red-brown glass eyes—a doll that had been found in an attic. I wanted to polish him with kisses, clean him up, make him even more radiant than he was. “That’s what you always want,” he said softly. His voice shocked me. If he had any French or Italian accent left, I couldn’t hear it. His tone was melancholy and had no meanness in it at all. “When you found me under Les Innocents,” he said, “you wanted to bathe me with perfume and dress me in velvet with great embroidered sleeves.” “Yes,” I said, “and comb your hair, your beautiful russet hair.” My tone was angry. “You look good to me, you damnable little devil, good to embrace and good to love.” We eyed each other for a moment. And then he surprised me, rising and coming towards me just as I moved to take him in my arms. His gesture wasn’t tentative, but it was extremely gentle. I could have backed away. I didn’t. We held each other tight for a moment. The cold embracing the cold. The hard embracing the hard. - Memnoch

Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. - The Vampire Armand

I wanted to take him in my arms. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him wherever he'd gone and whatever had taken place, he was now safe again with us, but nothing could quiet him. A deep exhaustion saved us all from the inevitable tale. We had to seek our dark corners away from the prying sun, we had to wait until the following night when he would come out to us and tell us what had happened. Still clutching the bundle, refusing all help, he closeted himself up with his wound. I had no choice but to leave him. As I sank down that morning into my own resting place, secure in clean modern darkness, I cried and cried like a child on account of the sight of him. Oh, why had I come to his aid? Why must I see him brought low like this when it had taken so many painful decades to cement my love for him forever? - The Vampire Armand

Two hundred years ago he stripped me of illusions, lies, excuses, and thrust me on the Paris pavements naked to find my way back to a glory in the starlight that I had once known and too painfully lost. But as we waited finally in the handsome high-rise apartment above St. Patrick's Cathedral, I had no idea how much more he could strip from me, and I hate him only because I cannot imagine my soul without him now, and, owing him all that I am and know, I can do nothing to make him wake from his frigid sleep. - The Vampire Armand

Of course I knew the very moment that he left this world. I felt it. I was in New York already, very near to him and aware that you were there as well. Neither of us meant to let him out of our sight if at all possible. Then came the moment when he vanished in the blizzard, when he was sucked out of the earthly atmosphere as if he'd never been there. Being his fledgling you couldn't hear the perfect silence that descended when he vanished. You couldn't know how completely he'd been withdrawn from all things minuscule yet material which had once echoed with the beating of his heart. - The Vampire Armand

“Armand,” I said. “Please.” I dropped down on my knees in front of him, looking up into his face. All the emotion he had held back was printed there now. He was in a rage. “Is your heart totally turned against me?” I asked. “Do you have no faith in what we seek to build here?” “Fool,” he said again. His voice was roughened now by emotion he couldn’t suppress. “I have always loved you,” he said. “I have loved you more than any being in all the world whom I’ve ever loved. I have loved you more than Louis. I have loved you more even than Marius. And you have never given me your love. I would be your most faithful counselor, if you allowed it. But you don’t. Your eyes pass over me as if I don’t exist. And so they always have.” - Blood Communion

“I love you still,” he said. “Yes, even now, I love you, as they all love you, your minions seeking just a smile or a nod or a quick touch of your hand. I love you like all those throughout this palace who are dreaming of drinking just a drop of your blood. Well, you can leave me now. I’m not going anywhere. Where is there to go? I’ll be here if you want me. And grant me my wish for the moment, you and your august friends. Go and leave me alone.” - Blood Communion

Armand suddenly began to weep. “Don’t do it, don’t trust him,” he said. “Lestat, he’ll just destroy you. And if you are gone—.” Ah, such sweet words from one who only hours ago had been cursing me with his every breath. - Blood Communion

The only thought in my mind, the only image, the only idea, was of Armand, and how Armand would feel when he too could hold Marius like this and know that Marius lived, that Marius had been restored, that all of them were safe and secure, and using my strongest power I sent the word to him. I sent the news. And I sent my love to Armand with it. - Blood Communion

[rmytears]

TIME AND TIMING. calex one-shot

SUMMARY: A routine morning at the precinct takes a turn when Alex confesses an unexpected new interest—astrology. Casey humors her at first, but when Alex asks for her birth time, the conversation suddenly feels a little more personal than she expected.

The hum of activity in Manhattan's 16th Precinct squad room was more than just noise—it was a living, breathing entity. Like any creature of habit, it had its own distinct rhythms: the staccato percussion of computer keys clicking in irregular bursts, the bass line of shuffling papers, the occasional crescendo of a detective's voice rising above the din to request a file or share a breakthrough. Phones chirped their digital songs at random intervals, creating a chaotic harmony that somehow made perfect sense to those who worked there.

The Special Victims Unit occupied this space like a family might inhabit an old house, each member knowing instinctively which floorboard creaked, which drawer stuck, which corner offered the best refuge during difficult moments. They had worn paths into the industrial carpet between their desks, created their own territories marked not by walls but by coffee mugs, family photos, and the occasional stress ball.

It was early December, and winter had settled over New York like a wool blanket—heavy, slightly scratchy, but ultimately necessary. The precinct's ancient heating system fought valiantly against the cold, producing a persistent mechanical wheeze that had become as familiar as a roommate's breathing.

Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot stood by the coffee machine, a relic from what appeared to be the late Paleolithic era, watching steam rise from her cup in lazy spirals. The machine's location—tucked into a corner between a filing cabinet and a bulletin board plastered with wanted posters and departmental memos—had become an unofficial sanctuary, a place where conversations could happen away from the intensity of active investigations.

Alex's appearance, as always, was meticulously curated. Her navy blazer, tailored to perfection, suggested authority without demanding it. Pearl earrings caught the fluorescent light, tiny moons orbiting the sharp planes of her face. Her blonde hair was swept back in a style that looked effortless but likely took considerable time to achieve. Everything about her projected competence, control, and an almost architectural precision.

Which made what she was about to say all the more surprising.

Casey Novak approached the coffee station with the determined stride of someone who had learned to move quickly through life, lest it move too quickly past her. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, and her suit, while professional, spoke more of functionality than fashion. She carried a legal pad covered in her characteristic scrawl, evidence of a mind that worked faster than most people could keep up with.

"Please tell me there's still coffee," Casey said, already reaching for a cup. "I've got three motions to file before noon, and Judge Petrovsky is not in a generous mood today."

Alex's lips curved into a smile that held more warmth than most people got to see. "There's coffee," she confirmed, "though I make no promises about its quality or legal standing as a beverage."

Casey poured herself a cup, the dark liquid steaming like a witch's cauldron. "At this point, I'd drink motor oil if it had caffeine in it." She took a sip and grimaced. "This might actually be motor oil."

"I've been thinking about taking up astrology," Alex said suddenly, her voice carrying the slightly hesitant tone of someone testing unfamiliar waters.

Casey's head snapped up so quickly she nearly spilled her coffee. She studied Alex's face for signs of a joke, finding none. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Astrology," Alex repeated, more confidently now. "The study of celestial bodies and their influence on human affairs."

"I know what astrology is," Casey said, amusement creeping into her voice. "I'm just trying to picture you plotting star charts between cross-examinations."

Alex's expression remained serene, but there was a glimmer of something playful in her eyes. "There's a lot about me you don't know, Novak."

The use of her last name—so formal, yet somehow intimate in Alex's mouth—made Casey's stomach do an unexpected flip. She covered it with a smirk. "Clearly. Next you'll tell me you're reading tarot cards in your office."

"Don't be ridiculous," Alex said, taking a deliberate sip of her coffee. "Tarot cards would be completely unprofessional." She paused, then added with perfect timing, "I keep those at home."

Casey laughed, a genuine sound that drew brief glances from nearby detectives before they returned to their work. "Alright, Madam Alexandra, what's my sign then?"

Alex's gaze became analytical, reminding Casey of the way she looked at witnesses on the stand—searching for truth beneath the surface. "Well, I know your birthday's coming up, but for a proper reading, I'd need to know exactly when you were born."

"The time?" Casey raised an eyebrow. "That matters?"

"It's crucial," Alex said with mock solemnity. "It determines your rising sign, your house placements..." She waved a hand vaguely. "Very technical stuff."

Casey found herself leaning against the counter, mirroring Alex's posture without realizing it. "Okay, I'll bite. December 12th, 4:57 PM."

Something flickered across Alex's face—satisfaction, perhaps, or triumph—but it was gone before Casey could properly identify it. "Interesting," was all she said.

Before Casey could press further, Detective Olivia Benson's approach cast a shadow over their corner. She moved with the measured grace of someone who had seen too much but refused to let it show, her dark eyes holding the weight of countless cases. The file in her hand might as well have been made of lead for all the gravity it carried.

"Sorry to break up the coffee klatch," Olivia said, though her slight smile suggested she wasn't entirely sorry, "but we need both of you on this one."

The moment dissolved like sugar in hot coffee, sweet but ultimately unsustainable. They were professionals first, always, and the work that brought them together was the same work that kept them apart.

Weeks blurred into months, marked by the steady progression of cases through the system. Winter softened into spring, then hardened into summer's unforgiving heat. The squad room's ancient air conditioning unit joined its heating counterpart in a duet of mechanical protest. Through it all, Casey found her thoughts occasionally drifting back to that conversation by the coffee machine, like a tongue probing a loose tooth—not exactly painful, but impossible to ignore.

She didn't mention it again, and neither did Alex. They worked together with their usual efficiency, trading legal strategies and case laws across conference tables, passing each other in courthouse corridors with professional nods. But sometimes, Casey would catch Alex watching her with that same analytical gaze from the coffee machine, as if she were still plotting some celestial chart only she could see.

When December 12th arrived, the squad room had been transformed. Someone (probably Fin, though he'd never admit it) had strung up a "Happy Birthday" banner that had seen better days. The conference table groaned under the weight of snacks, and a cake decorated in surprisingly artistic fashion proclaimed "Happy Birthday Casey" in bold blue letters.

"Alright, everybody gather 'round," Cragen announced, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the occasion. "Let's do this before we catch a case.

The squad assembled with the organized chaos of a family at a holiday dinner. Fin presented his gift first, a vintage law book Casey had once mentioned wanting. Munch followed with a conspiracy theory book ("Know your enemy," he said with a wink). Olivia's gift was practical—a sleek leather briefcase to replace Casey's worn one. Even Cragen contributed, offering a bottle of aged scotch with a gruff "For after hours only."

Throughout it all, Casey was acutely aware of Alex's presence at the edges of the group. She participated in the celebration with her usual grace, but offered no gift, no special acknowledgment of their previous conversation. Casey told herself it didn't matter, that she was being ridiculous for even remembering such a minor exchange.

The party dispersed as quickly as it had formed, the demands of justice never taking a holiday. Casey retreated to her office, diving into work to distract herself from a disappointment she couldn't quite justify.

The wall clock ticked toward late afternoon, its sound suddenly prominent in the quiet office. 4:56 PM.

A knock at the door made her heart skip, though she couldn't say why.

"Come in," she called, proud of how steady her voice remained.

The door opened with a soft click, and there stood Alex Cabot, holding a small package wrapped in silver paper that caught the light like stars.

Casey's eyes darted to the clock just as it changed: 4:57 PM.

"You remembered," Casey said softly, the words escaping before she could stop them.

Alex's smile was gentle but knowing as she stepped into the office, closing the door behind her. The sound seemed to seal them in their own private universe, separate from the chaos of the precinct beyond. "Of course I did. I told you timing was crucial."

She approached Casey's desk with measured steps, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that seemed to match Casey's suddenly accelerated heartbeat. The package she carried looked small in her hands, but it commanded attention like evidence in a courtroom.

"I hope you don't mind that I waited," Alex said, placing the gift on Casey's desk with careful precision. "It seemed important to get the timing right."

Casey stared at the package, afraid to reach for it, afraid not to. "I thought you'd forgotten about all that astrology talk."

"I never forget anything, Casey." The use of her first name, so rare from Alex's lips, felt intimate in the confined space of the office. "Especially not conversations that matter."

With fingers that trembled slightly—though she'd never admit it—Casey reached for the package. The paper was cool and smooth under her touch, like running her hands through water. She unwrapped it slowly, savoring the moment, until she revealed a small jewelry box.

Inside, nestled on black velvet, lay a silver bracelet. Its surface caught the late afternoon light streaming through her office window, making the engraved word dance: Patience.

Casey traced the letters with her fingertip, feeling the slight indentations against her skin. "Why this word?" she asked, though something in her chest suggested she already knew the answer.

Alex moved closer, close enough that Casey could smell her perfume—something expensive and subtle, like secrets wrapped in silk. "Because some things are worth waiting for," she said softly. "Some connections need time to align properly."

Their eyes met, and in that moment, Casey understood that they weren't talking about astrology anymore. Perhaps they never had been.

"Here," Alex said, reaching for the bracelet. "Let me help you with that."

Her fingers were warm as they brushed against Casey's wrist, sending little sparks of electricity dancing up her arm. The bracelet clasped with a soft click that seemed to echo in the quiet office.

Neither woman moved to break contact.

"It's beautiful," Casey whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their breathing.

"It suits you," Alex replied, her thumb tracing a small circle on Casey's pulse point.

The moment stretched between them like taffy, sweet and fragile and full of possibility. Casey found herself leaning forward slightly, drawn by some force as inexorable as gravity—

A sharp knock shattered the moment.

Olivia's voice carried through the door. "Hey, we're heading to Forlini's for birthday drinks. You coming?"

Casey cleared her throat, trying to remember how to form words. "Yeah, be right there."

Alex stepped back, but her eyes never left Casey's face. The professional mask slipped back into place, but now Casey could see the cracks in it, the places where something warmer showed through.

"Shall we?" Alex asked, gesturing toward the door.

Casey nodded, but as they moved to leave, she caught Alex's hand. "Thank you," she said. "Not just for the bracelet, but for... timing."

Alex's fingers squeezed hers briefly. "Some things are written in the stars, Casey. We just have to be patient enough to read them."

At Forlini's, surrounded by their colleagues and friends, Casey found her attention constantly drawn to Alex like a compass finding north. The bracelet felt warm against her skin, a constant reminder of possibility.

Olivia, ever observant, nudged her gently. "Nice bracelet."

"Thanks," Casey said, unconsciously touching it. "It was a... special gift."

Olivia's knowing smile suggested she understood more than Casey had said. "You know, some people speak louder through gestures than words."

Across the bar, Alex was laughing at something Fin had said, the sound carrying over the ambient noise. As if sensing Casey's attention, she looked up, their eyes meeting across the crowded space.

Time seemed to slow, the noise fading to a distant hum. The word engraved on Casey's wrist seemed to pulse with meaning: Patience.

She smiled, and Alex smiled back, and Casey thought that maybe, just maybe, some things really were written in the stars.

All they had to do was wait for the right moment to read them.

[shiorihyugawrites]

Red Regrets

Twelve years ago, Levi Ackerman made the hardest decision of his life—he left behind the only woman he ever loved, believing it was for her own good. But fate is cruel, and when a fiery redheaded boy with a familiar scowl crosses his path, Levi is forced to confront the past he abandoned. The truth he never knew. And the woman whose heart he shattered. (Levi x OC)

Chapter Fourteen

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the remnants of Shiganshina. The once-proud walls of the district now stood broken, jagged and crumbling as the aftermath of the battle settled in. The dust from the destruction lingered in the air like an unsettling fog, suffocating the world in an uncomfortable silence. It was a silence that held the weight of loss—of lives lost, of comrades fallen, and of an insurmountable grief that seemed to ripple through the entire Survey Corps.

Levi stood alone in a small, abandoned house in the heart of Shiganshina, his back against the cold stone wall. His eyes were fixed on the bed where Erwin Smith’s body lay, the man who had led them all through so many impossible battles, the man who had always carried the weight of humanity’s survival on his shoulders. Now, that burden had fallen on someone else—someone who would never be able to fill Erwin’s shoes.

The body before him was still, lifeless, and despite the destruction around them, it was the only thing in that room that felt real. Everything else—the Titans, the rubble, the world they had fought for—felt like a distant memory.

Levi’s fists were clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as if the pain of it might ground him. His breath was ragged, shallow, but his gaze remained steady, his thoughts as turbulent as the storm that raged inside his chest. His commander, his friend, his comrade—gone. And Levi hadn’t been able to carry out the last order Erwin had given him.

The rage was still fresh, boiling under the surface, threatening to burst. He had failed Erwin. He had failed in killing the Beast Titan, the creature that had caused so much death and suffering. He had been so close. The Beast Titan was right there, ripe for the killing blow. But then that damn Cart Titan had shown up, and Reiner—damn him—had been saved.

The only victory they could claim was the death of Bertholdt. The Colossal Titan was gone, but that small comfort barely soothed Levi’s seething anger. They had won the battle, but at what cost? Erwin was dead. And they were left to pick up the pieces. Only a handful of Scouts remained, and the weight of it all pressed down on Levi’s soul.

“You didn’t deserve this,” Levi whispered to the lifeless body before him. His voice cracked, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. “We shouldn’t have been forced to choose between you and Armin.”

Behind him, he heard the soft creak of the door opening, and he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Hange’s footsteps were heavy, slow—there was a weight in them, a weariness that matched his own.

Levi didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. He wasn’t ready to face anyone, not yet. His gaze remained fixed on Erwin’s still face, the expression of a man who had given everything for a cause, a man who had led them to this moment.

“Levi...” Hange’s voice was soft, almost tentative, as if she were unsure of how to approach him. She paused just behind him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “We did the best we could. And we can’t let that tear us apart. Erwin... he wouldn’t want that.”

Levi’s voice was bitter. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill the Beast Titan like he asked. I couldn’t keep my promise to him.”

Hange’s hand tightened on his shoulder, and for the first time since the battle, Levi allowed himself to feel the weight of her presence, the comfort of a friend who understood.

“You’ll get your chance, Levi. We all know you will,” Hange said, her voice steady, but there was a hint of sadness in it, too. “You’ve always been the one who survives, the one who carries the weight of the world on your shoulders. And Erwin... he would want you to carry on. He would want you to finish what we started.”

Levi stood in silence for a long moment, the weight of those words settling in his chest. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed in determination. Hange was right. He couldn’t let Erwin’s death be in vain. He had failed Erwin once, but he would not fail him again. He would make sure of it.

Finally, he turned, facing Hange, his eyes cold and hard with resolve. "I’ll make it right," he said, his voice low but steady, the usual calm mask slipping back into place. "I’ll kill the Beast Titan. And I’ll make sure Erwin's last order is fulfilled."

Hange met his gaze with the same fire, the same drive that had carried them both through countless battles. She nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips.

“We’ll do it together. We’re not alone, Levi.”

Levi’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he looked back at Erwin’s body. “I promised him. And I’ll keep that promise. Erwin gave everything for this world, for all of us.”

A silence fell between them, and for a moment, Levi allowed himself to grieve—to feel the sorrow and anger that had been simmering beneath the surface. Erwin was gone, but the fight wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. The truth they had uncovered in the basement of Eren’s home—the information about Marley, about the world beyond the walls—was just the beginning. The mission was far from complete, and Levi wasn’t about to let Erwin’s death be for nothing.

Hange sighed, and her voice softened. “Levi, I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but... we’re going to need you. All of us. We’re going to need you to lead us through this.”

Levi looked at her, his expression unreadable, but for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something tired, something human. “I know,” he replied quietly. “But not yet. Not now.”

Hange nodded, understanding the unspoken pain in his words. She didn’t push him further. Instead, she gave him a moment of silence—a moment to say goodbye to the man who had been not just his commander, but his friend.

“Take all the time you need,” Hange said softly. “We’ll be ready when you are.”

Levi turned back to Erwin’s body, his gaze cold and unyielding. He wasn’t ready to face the others, not yet. He needed this moment. He needed to let the weight of it all settle, to honor Erwin in the quiet, in the solitude.

As the last light of the day faded, Levi made a silent vow to the man who had always believed in him. He would finish this. For Erwin. For humanity. For everything they had fought for. And the Beast Titan would fall.

…

Hours later, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a darkening sky that swallowed up the ruins of Shiganshina. The once bustling district now lay in ruin, the battle’s aftermath littering the ground with the remains of the fallen, both friend and foe.

Levi stood at the edge of what was once a proud city, his gaze sharp as he surveyed the wreckage. His mind felt like a whirlwind, an onslaught of memories and emotions he had been trying to keep at bay for hours. Erwin’s death, the dismemberment of the recruits by the Beast Titan’s rocks, Armin’s transformation into the Colossal Titan—it was all a blur now, a series of moments that refused to fade, no matter how hard he tried.

Behind him, the sound of movement signaled the return of the others. Hange approached, her eyes tired but unwavering, her face betraying the same weariness that weighed heavily on Levi’s heart.

The two of them hadn’t said much since the battle ended, each lost in their thoughts, but now was the time to act. The others were scattered around, gathering their strength and tending to the wounded, but Levi knew it was time to move. Time to return. He turned toward Hange and spoke, his voice low but firm.

“Hange, gather the others. We need to prepare the horses. We’re heading back to Wall Rose.”

Hange nodded without hesitation, her expression as hard as Levi’s. She gave him a brief, understanding glance before turning to the rest of the group, her voice carrying across the now-silent battlefield.

"Alright, you heard him. Get the horses ready. We’re heading back to Wall Rose. No one gets left behind."

Levi watched as the others—Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Floch—started to move with urgency, the task ahead looming over them. He caught sight of Sasha, still unconscious from the shrapnel of a Thunder Spear, her body still and pale, but alive, at least. Levi felt a twinge of relief that she had made it, though the cost of their victory had been high.

The reality of the mission had set in. Their commander, was dead. And in his place, Hange will take up the mantle as commander. The battle had been brutal, and the repercussions of their loss would echo throughout the Survey Corps. They had achieved a tactical victory, but at what cost?

Levi’s mind raced as he helped guide the remaining horses into position. Armin, the boy who had never wanted to lead, was now the Colossal Titan. His transformation was still fresh in Levi’s mind. The sight of the monstrous figure rising from the ground, the immense heat from the explosion—it was a moment that would never leave him. He had seen death, had faced it countless times, but the stakes had changed. The world beyond their walls was larger and far more dangerous than they ever imagined.

The truth they had uncovered in the basement of Eren’s home—those three books from Grisha Jaeger—had confirmed it. There was an outside world beyond the walls. A world they had no understanding of, and one that now loomed over them. Marley, a nation at war with them, was out there. And soon, the world would know they existed. Levi could feel it in his bones: this was just the beginning.

The others mounted their horses, and Levi swung onto his own with practiced ease, his thoughts still heavy but his body moving on autopilot. Mikasa sat beside him, her eyes downcast, a reflection of her own grief. Armin was still adjusting to his new form, still learning the weight of the transformation he had gone through. Jean and Connie exchanged tired, somber looks, their eyes betraying the weight of the loss of their comrades. Floch, the only surviving recruit, remained stoic, though the tension in his shoulders was unmistakable.

Levi glanced at Hange, who had already taken the lead, her usual energetic demeanor subdued by the weight of command. They had lost too many, but there was no time for mourning now. Not yet. They needed to get back to Wall Rose.

As the group began to ride, the wind picking up, the sound of hooves beating against the earth was the only sound that filled the air. There were no Titans moving around. The sun had set, and with it, the nightmare of the day seemed to fade, leaving only the quiet of the night.

Levi rode alongside Mikasa and Eren, his thoughts scattered but focused. His mind couldn't settle. So much had happened, and so much had changed. But despite everything that weighed on him, Levi found himself grateful. Grateful that he was alive. Grateful that he had kept his promise to Penelope and Preston. He could picture their faces in his mind—the warmth of their smiles, the reassurance that they had given him before he left. He could feel Penelope’s arms around him in the quiet moments when everything felt like it was falling apart.

He had promised them both he would return, and no matter what it took, he would. He couldn’t lose them. Not now, not when he was just beginning to rebuild his place in their lives. He had spent so many years running, fighting, and pushing everyone away, but now, after everything that had happened, after seeing his comrades fall, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing them again.

It wasn’t just about the mission anymore. It was about something more. A future. A family.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow on the road ahead. The journey to Wall Rose would take hours, but Levi didn’t mind the silence. It gave him time to think, time to process the magnitude of what had happened.

They had barely survived. But they had survived. They still had a chance. There was still hope.

As they rode, the shadows of the past and future stretched long across the road, and Levi kept his gaze fixed ahead, determined to reach Wall Rose, determined to fulfill his promise to those who were waiting for him.

He couldn’t bring Erwin back. He couldn’t undo the carnage they had witnessed. But he could honor Erwin’s memory, carry his burden, and push forward into the unknown.

Because for the first time in a long while, Levi knew something. They weren’t just fighting for survival anymore. They were fighting for the truth. They were fighting for the future. And that, he realized, was worth everything.

The wind whispered past them as they rode on, the night closing in, but in that moment, as he rode alongside his comrades, he felt a strange peace settle in his chest. They had lost so much, but they had not lost everything. And that was enough for now.

The journey back to Wall Rose had begun.

…

The quiet hum of the bustling clinic was interrupted only by the soft footsteps of Penelope as she moved swiftly between rooms, tending to patients. Her clinic had always been a haven for those who needed medical help, and it was no different today. But there was an underlying tension in the air that Penelope couldn't shake. The heavy weight of anxiety was felt by everyone—staff, patients, and especially herself.

The walls of the clinic felt stifling, as if the air itself was thick with the worry of what the return of the Survey Corps might bring. The news of the battle at Shiganshina had not yet reached them in full, but the rumors were already spreading. Everyone in the Walls was on edge, praying that their loved ones would return safely. Penelope was no different. She could feel her heart race every time she heard the sound of horses' hooves or the murmur of voices from outside.

It had been nearly six hours since the battle was suspected to have ended, and no word had come.

Preston was at the clinic today. As punishment for his bullying incident at school, Penelope had made him help out with cleaning, a task he wasn’t particularly fond of but understood he had to do. He was alone in the back room, grumbling under his breath as he scrubbed away at the floor, looking up only when Penelope passed by him.

Penelope glanced over at him as she tended to an elderly patient. Her gaze lingered for a moment, her heart aching for her son. Despite his outward bravado, she could see the worry in his eyes, the way he nervously chewed on his lip. He didn’t talk about it often, but Penelope could tell Preston was afraid.

Preston knew his father was the strongest soldier out there, but he also knew the Titans they fought were unlike anything the world had ever seen. The Colossal Titan, the Armored Titan... How could a boy like him not be afraid of the dangers his father faced? 

"How’s the leg today, Mrs. Hailey?" Penelope asked, her voice soft as she knelt beside the elderly woman seated on the examination table.

Mrs. Hailey, a woman in her late seventies who had been a patient of Penelope's for years, looked up at Penelope with a knowing smile. The lines of her face had deepened with age, but there was a sharpness to her eyes, a clarity that Penelope respected. She had always found comfort in Mrs. Hailey’s presence.

"Better, dear," Mrs. Hailey replied, her voice warm but with a hint of concern. "But you seem a little off today. Is everything alright, Dr. Iverson?"

Penelope hesitated for a moment, her hands stilling as she was preparing to dress Mrs. Hailey's wound. The question, though casual, was pointed. It was clear that the elderly woman had noticed the change in her behavior.

"I'm fine," Penelope replied quickly, though the words felt hollow the moment they left her lips. She forced a smile, hoping to ease her patient’s concerns, but she could feel the weight of the worry pressing down on her chest. "Just... thinking about things, that's all."

Mrs. Hailey raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Thinking about that man, Captain Levi, I presume?" she teased, her voice light with humor but her eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "I’ve heard the gossip, you know. Everyone in the Walls seems to know now that Captain Levi is your son’s father."

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Levi's name, but she maintained her composure. She had heard the whispers, the rumors. She had been the subject of countless discussions in the clinic. It seemed that no matter how much she tried to avoid the topic, it was never far from people's minds.

"I’m just worried about him," Penelope said quietly, though the weight of the words felt heavier than she had anticipated. "I haven’t heard anything since the battle ended."

Mrs. Hailey’s expression softened, and she reached out, placing a gentle hand on Penelope’s. "You’re a strong woman, Dr. Iverson. I’ve been coming to you for years now and have seen you flourish as a brilliant doctor, and I know you’ve been through far worse than this. But Captain Levi is stronger than a brigade of soldiers. If there’s anyone who will come back alive, it will be him."

Penelope felt a lump form in her throat, but she nodded, grateful for the comforting words. She had always prided herself on her strength, on being able to keep her emotions in check, but now, with Levi out there and the world so uncertain, it was harder than ever.

"You know, dear," Mrs. Hailey continued, her tone light, "I’d say you have impeccable taste in men. Captain Levi... he’s quite the catch." She winked playfully, clearly trying to lift Penelope's spirits.

Penelope couldn't help but chuckle, though it was tinged with sadness. "He is, isn’t he.," she replied with a small, bittersweet smile. "He’s... he's a good man."

"A very good man," Mrs. Hailey repeated thoughtfully, nodding. "And don’t you forget it. You’re lucky, my dear, to have a man like him in your life."

Penelope’s smile faded as she looked down at the bandage she was wrapping around Mrs. Hailey’s leg. She wasn’t sure if she was lucky or not. She had loved Levi, more than anyone could ever understand, and when he left, it had torn her apart. His cruel, sudden departure had left a scar that had never fully healed, even now, after all these years.

But even now, with the complexity of their relationship, with the past still lingering between them, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of something when she thought about him. She had felt it when he kissed her before he left. It was the first time they had been so close in years, the first time she had allowed herself to feel something again.

"Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mrs. Hailey?" Penelope asked, pushing the thoughts aside as she finished dressing the wound.

Mrs. Hailey shook her head, her smile returning. "No, you’ve done enough, my dear. Just keep that soldier of yours in your thoughts, and I’m sure everything will be just fine."

Penelope didn’t reply immediately. She smiled politely and nodded, but the truth was, the thought of Levi out there—fighting the Titans, fighting for survival—was the only thing on her mind. The world beyond the walls was terrifying, and the uncertainty was unbearable.

As Mrs. Hailey left, Penelope stood by the window, her eyes scanning the horizon. She couldn’t stop thinking about Levi—about the promise he had made, about the kiss they shared. She felt torn, unsure of what to expect when he returned. Would he come back to her? Would things be different between them? She didn’t know, all she could do was believe we would keep his word. He had promised to come back, and she had to believe that.

Just then, Preston walked back into the room, looking hesitant as he clutched a cloth in his hand, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Mom," he said quietly, his voice low with anxiety, "I finished cleaning. Do you think... do you think Dad’s okay?"

Penelope glanced at her son, her heart aching at the concern in his eyes. "I’m sure he’s fine," she said, her voice more convincing than she felt. "Levi’s the strongest man I know. If anyone can survive out there, it’s him."

Preston didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded anyway, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, I know. It’s just... it’s scary, you know? Thinking about him out there with those Titans."

Penelope stepped toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know, baby. But you have to believe he’s strong. He’ll come back."

The silence between them was heavy, but Penelope felt a sense of warmth knowing that, for now, they had each other. And though the world beyond the walls remained uncertain, the small, fragile hope that Levi would return was all they could hold onto.

With that thought, Penelope glanced once more toward the horizon, waiting. Waiting for the return of her love, the return of their family.

…

The quiet of the night was unsettling. Penelope sat in her room, the soft flicker of candlelight casting long shadows across the walls of her bedroom. Her eyes were unfocused, staring at the ceiling as her mind refused to quiet. Preston had long since fallen asleep in his, his steady breathing the only sound that punctuated the stillness.

But Penelope couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind wandered back to him. Levi. The man who had once been her world, and who had shattered that world over a decade ago. And now, after all the pain, after all the time spent apart, he was back. He had returned in the most unexpected of ways—pulled back into her life through a series of events she still couldn’t fully understand. The entire fiasco with Kenny Ackerman, the Reiss chapel, the bloodshed... everything felt like a blur. But the one constant was Levi.

It was maddening. Just two months ago, she hated him with everything she had. She couldn’t forgive the man who had abandoned her, the man who had left her while he fought for a cause far bigger than their own love. But now, after everything they had both been through—after that moment of vulnerability when he kissed her before leaving for the mission—Penelope realized just how deeply she was falling for him again. Too deeply. Too quickly.

The strange thing was, she wasn’t sure if it was just the love she had held onto all these years, or if it was the new person that Levi had become. Or perhaps both. Levi wasn’t the same man who had left her. He had changed, just as she had. They were both different now, scarred and shaped by the battles they had faced, but it was undeniable—Levi was back in her life, and more than that, he was in Preston’s life.

She found herself wondering about what kind of life they could have together. Could they truly build a future? Levi’s work with the Scouts was dangerous, and the constant threat of death hung over him like a dark cloud. Could she handle it? Could she live with the constant fear that one day, he wouldn’t come back?

Penelope let out a quiet sigh, pushing those thoughts aside. She was being foolish. Levi was a part of their lives again, and that was enough for tonight. She could think about the future later. But even as she tried to settle her mind, the unanswered questions gnawed at her.

The night continued to stretch on, the soft patter of rain against the window the only sound filling the quiet room. Penelope shifted in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but her thoughts continued to race. Finally, she gave up, sitting up in bed, running a hand through her long, red curls.

Suddenly, a knock at the door made her jump.

Who could that be? Penelope’s heart skipped a beat. It was late—far too late for anyone to be visiting her. And for a split second, her instincts kicked in. She was from the Underground, and there was no part of her that had ever fully shed the suspicion and wariness that came with that life. In the Underground, a knock at the door in the middle of the night was never good.

Her hand instinctively reached for the knife she kept on her bedside table. Penelope wasn’t about to let her guard down. She had lived through too much, survived too many dangerous situations to ignore her instincts. Holding the knife firmly in her hand, she crept toward the door, making sure her footsteps were as silent as possible. She peered through the peephole, her heart beating a little faster in her chest.

And then, as her eyes focused, her breath caught.

There, standing in the rain, soaking wet and covered in the remnants of the night’s storm, was Levi. His face was as stoic as ever, though there was something in his eyes—something that made Penelope’s heart lurch in her chest. It was pain. It was exhaustion. It was something she couldn’t quite name, but it struck her nonetheless.

She opened the door almost before she could think, her hand shaking slightly as she gripped the handle. The moment the door swung open, their eyes locked.

Levi didn’t say anything at first. His face was cold, his expression unreadable, but Penelope could see the storm in his eyes. He was soaked to the bone, his cloak heavy with rain, his hair matted to his forehead. There was a silence between them—a quiet, charged moment that stretched longer than it should have. She could feel the weight of his presence, the distance they had kept from each other, and yet, in that moment, she could also feel the deep, undeniable connection between them.

Without warning, Levi took a step forward. His eyes softened just a fraction, and then, in an unexpected move, he rested his head on her shoulder. It was a gesture that took Penelope completely by surprise.

She froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat as she felt the wetness of his hair against her skin. But then, instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. The pain of his absence, the longing, the frustration—everything that had built up over the years—seemed to fade away in that embrace. Penelope held him tightly, as if she could make up for all the time they had lost, all the years of silence and separation.

Levi’s arms wrapped around her waist, and for a moment, there was only the sound of rain outside and the soft rhythm of their breathing. Penelope felt his warmth, his presence, and she couldn’t help but lean into him, feeling the relief that came with having him back, even if only for a moment.

He didn’t say anything at first, but his grip on her tightened, as if he never wanted to let go. His body trembled ever so slightly against hers, and she could feel the exhaustion in his muscles, the weight of the world that he carried with him. He had been through hell, and yet here he was, standing in front of her.

After what felt like an eternity, Levi pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. His voice was low, rough, and tinged with something more fragile than she had ever heard from him before.

“I’m sorry for taking so long,” he said quietly, his gaze intense and full of unspoken emotions.

Penelope stared at him, her heart in her throat. "You don't need to apologize," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I’m just... so glad you're here."

Levi looked at her for a long moment, his gaze searching hers as if he was trying to find something. And then, just as Penelope thought the moment might pass, Levi leaned in, brushing his lips softly against her forehead.

Penelope closed her eyes at the contact, her breath catching in her chest. She could feel the warmth of his lips, the soft, tender touch, and in that instant, it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

When he pulled back, Penelope looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She was about to say something, anything, but Levi spoke first.

“Thank you,” he whispered. "For waiting. For... everything.”

The words hung in the air, and Penelope felt her throat tighten. She wanted to say so much in return, but all she could do was hold him close, her hands resting against his chest.

“I’ll never stop,” she murmured softly. “I’ll never stop waiting for you.”

Penelope stepped aside, quickly ushering Levi into her home, away from the torrent of rain that soaked him through. The cool, damp air from the storm followed him in, but it felt worlds apart from the storm that was brewing within him.

“Come inside,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. “You’re soaked through. You’ll catch a cold.”

Levi didn’t argue. His shoulders were heavy with exhaustion, and the moment he crossed the threshold of her door, it was like the weight of the world was lifted just a little. Penelope quickly shut the door behind him, the sound of the rain intensifying as it pounded against the wooden frame.

Without a word, she took a towel from the nearby closet and handed it to him, silently urging him to dry off. Levi nodded in acknowledgment and began to remove his wet cloak, dropping it on the floor along with his soaked boots. The familiar scent of rain and the cold, hard scent of battle still clung to him.

Penelope looked at him with quiet concern, noticing the way his movements were sluggish, as if the weight of everything had taken its toll on him. He was always so composed, so controlled, but now he was here, in front of her, vulnerable and worn out.

She couldn’t help herself. “Levi,” she began, her voice tentative, “What happened out there? The mission... it must have been... rough.”

Levi was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the floor. He looked so much like the man he had been when they were younger—closed off, distant—but there was something else there now, something darker. Penelope's heart clenched in her chest at the thought of everything he had been through.

Finally, Levi spoke, his voice low, carrying a weight that made her stomach tighten.

“Erwin’s dead,” he said quietly, his words almost lost in the stillness of the room. “Along with most of the Survey Corps... Hange, my squad, and one recruit made it out.” He paused for a moment, his voice faltering slightly as if the words themselves were too heavy to speak.

Penelope’s breath caught in her throat. Erwin... gone? The man who had led them through countless battles, the one who had supported her—who had helped get her aboveground, who had funded her medical education... He was dead? She couldn’t process it, not in that moment.

She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Commander Erwin... no," she whispered, the grief settling in like a heavy stone.

Levi’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, the weight of the world visible in his eyes. “It was... bad, Pen. The Beast Titan was there, throwing rocks, taking out our soldiers. We lost a lot. A lot.” His voice dropped even lower as if he were reliving it all over again.

Penelope swallowed hard, her chest aching at the thought. She knew how much Erwin meant to Levi. The two of them had been through so much together, had shared so many losses. And to lose Erwin now, in such a brutal way...

Levi continued, his words heavier now, more calculated. "There’s more, though," he said, glancing briefly at Penelope before his eyes fell back to the floor. “We found something in Eren’s basement. The truth about the world. But we can’t act on it yet. We need to debrief with Premier Zachary, Commanders Nile and Pyxis. We still don’t know everything, but we know enough.”

Penelope’s mind raced, the weight of his words settling deep within her. The truth about the world? That could mean anything. A thousand possibilities flooded her thoughts. What had they discovered? What could be worse than the Titans they had been fighting all these years?

Levi continued, his voice cold as he spoke about the future. “The true enemy is worse than we thought. There’s a whole world beyond these walls, and it’s not just Titans we have to fear. The world outside...” He trailed off, as if the reality of it all was too much to bear.

Penelope felt her stomach twist at the thought. Worse than the Titans? What could be worse than that?

She remained silent, her mind spinning, but she couldn’t stop her hands from reaching out. She moved to sit next to him on the couch, not sure what to say, not sure if words would even help.

Levi seemed to notice her movement but didn’t pull away. Instead, he sat there beside her, stiff and silent, still processing everything that had happened. His body was so tense, as though he were holding himself together by sheer force of will. He always did that—never showing weakness, never letting anyone see just how much it hurt.

Penelope’s heart ached for him, for the man he had become, for everything he had been through. She couldn’t imagine how much pain he was in, how much of a burden he carried.

Reaching out, she placed her hand on his arm, offering him the only comfort she could. "Levi," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. "I know it’s hard... I know you’re carrying so much. But you’re not alone, you don’t have to be alone."

Levi remained still for a long moment, his eyes staring straight ahead, as though her words were still sinking in. And then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders slumped, the weight of everything falling down on him at once. He let out a shaky breath and turned to her.

And then, to her shock, Levi leaned into her, laying his head on her lap. 

Penelope froze for a moment, her heart racing, but then she realized—he was seeking comfort. He needed her. He needed to feel something, anything, after everything he had seen.

Before she could think, her arms wrapped around him instinctively. It was the same comforting gesture she had given him all those years ago when they were younger, when he had come back from one of their many fights, wounded and exhausted. She had always known how to comfort him, even when he pushed everyone away.

As her hand ran gently through his undercut—the same motion she had used when they were younger—Levi’s breath hitched. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His silence was enough. The rawness of his emotions, the pain of Erwin’s death, the horrors of the battle—it all seemed to weigh on him in that moment, and Penelope could feel the tremor in his body.

Levi had always been the strong one, the one who carried the burden for everyone else. But now, as he leaned into her embrace, Penelope could see the cracks. He was human. He was grieving.

Penelope squeezed him tighter, holding him like she used to when they were kids. She didn’t care about the past anymore. All she cared about was the man in her arms—the man who had come back to her after all this time.

Levi’s body trembled, and for the first time in a long while, Penelope felt him let go. He cried, quietly, silently, but the weight of his grief was evident in every sob, in every tremor that ran through his body.

And Penelope, for the first time in so many years, allowed herself to just be there with him, to hold him and give him the comfort he had given her all those years ago. She ran her hand through his hair again, just like she used to, and for that brief moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just them.

He’s here.

He’s alive.

The moment stretched, a peaceful silence filling the room as Penelope and Levi held each other, the weight of the world slowly starting to ease. It was as if time itself had paused, granting them a fleeting moment of solace amid the chaos that had defined their lives. She could feel Levi’s tension beginning to release as his breathing steadied, the raw vulnerability that he had so rarely shown finally seeping through the cracks of his hardened exterior.

But before either of them could say another word, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway.

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat, and her body instinctively stiffened. She pulled away from Levi, startled, as the noise grew louder, coming down the stairs with a sense of urgency.

The door to the room swung open, and there, standing in the doorway, was Preston.

The boy froze, his wide gray eyes locking onto Levi. His hair was disheveled, his pajamas slightly askew, and he was breathing heavily, as if he had sprinted down the stairs without thinking. In that moment, all of Penelope’s earlier anxiety, all of the overwhelming emotions she had been holding back, seemed to crash over her again.

Preston’s face was streaked with tears, and the sight of it made Penelope’s heart ache. The boy stood frozen, staring at his father—his dad—as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

Levi, who had been taken by surprise as well, stiffened for a moment, unsure of how to react. But then, without warning, Preston took a step forward, his small body shaking with relief and emotion. He couldn’t contain himself any longer. The tears that had been building for so long spilled over, and he ran toward Levi.

"Dad!" Preston cried out, his voice breaking with the weight of everything he had felt since Levi left for the mission. He flung himself into Levi’s arms, holding him with all the strength his young body could muster.

Levi hesitated for just a moment—just a brief, fleeting second—before he wrapped his arms around Preston, pulling him close in return. The warmth of his son, the feeling of him in his arms, was overwhelming. For Levi, who had lived his life isolated and hardened by battle, this moment felt like everything.

“I kept my promise,” Levi whispered, his voice thick with emotion he never allowed to surface. He squeezed Preston tighter, feeling the boy’s small hands clutching at his coat, his shoulders trembling.

Preston buried his face in Levi’s chest, his tears soaking the fabric of Levi’s uniform. “I knew you would come back, Dad,” Preston sobbed, his voice muffled against Levi’s shirt. “I knew it. I was so scared… I—I didn’t want to lose you.”

Levi’s chest tightened as he held his son. He had always feared this moment, feared the pain that came with putting his family in danger, with being the kind of man who could break promises. But hearing Preston’s words—feeling his son’s desperate need for him, the hope that had kept him going through all the darkness—they hit Levi harder than he had expected.

“You won’t lose me, kid,” Levi murmured softly, his voice hoarse as he ran a hand through Preston’s hair, the same comforting motion he had used on Penelope just moments ago. "I’m not going anywhere."

Penelope stood behind them, watching the moment unfold. Her chest swelled with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and something deeper—something tender. She could see the bond between them, the father and son she had once thought could never be. And though the years of pain and uncertainty between her and Levi hadn’t vanished, seeing them together like this made it feel as though something had finally started to heal.

Penelope took a small step forward, her heart still pounding from the sudden outpouring of emotion. She placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder gently, offering him a quiet smile. 

Levi met her gaze, his expression unreadable, but in his eyes, Penelope saw something that wasn’t there before—something vulnerable, something hopeful. She couldn’t explain it, but in that moment, they both understood. There was so much pain they still had to face, but for the first time, there was the possibility of something else. Of a future, perhaps.

Preston pulled back slightly, still holding on to Levi’s waist. He looked up at him, his tear-streaked face breaking into a smile that made Levi’s heart ache. "Dad..." he said softly, his voice still shaking, "I’m so glad you’re back."

Levi nodded, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles—something softer, something more real than the cold, distant man Penelope had known all those years ago. “Me too, kid. Me too.”

They stood there for a moment, father and son reunited, a silent promise exchanged between them. Penelope watched them, a quiet ache in her chest. There was so much more to work through, so much left unsaid, but for now, in this moment, everything felt right.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Levi repeated, more firmly this time, as if the words themselves were a lifeline.

And Penelope, though the weight of the past still loomed large, allowed herself to believe him.

They had their family now. They had each other.

~

Masterlist | Patreon

Join my Taglist

Note: I'm four chapters ahead on patreon:)

Tags: @Levkuna @cherrymoon55 @ynackerman9499 @demonslayeranimex @myfturn @stardust0709 @levkuna @nosleepinsomniaking @zero-h0es4m3 @ackerboi @massivepenguinfart @miniminimingi @heartbrii @mwezieclipze @jinsfavoritedoll multifandom-03

[justafewberries]

i really like the argument proposed at the end of sotr to justify the games:

“But they really are for a greater good. The Hunger Games.”

Collins never delves into this argument. I wish she had, as it provides the foundation for why people believe the Games are important to continue.

we know the harm the Games cause on the districts. They steal 24 children from their homes, they keep people confined to one area for their whole lives, they mandate production of each district, they prey on poverty, etc. etc.

So how is it even possible that the Games could maximize good for the greatest amount of people?

Snow's belief of Human Nature. In Ballad, Snow becomes convinced that Dr. Gaul is correct. At their core, humans are violent creatures who only seek to serve themselves. He believes, like Thomas Hobbes, that humans needed a government to keep them from killing each other.

Hobbes said this about what the world would look like without an entity to keep men from pulling each other apart:

[There would be] no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain; and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by Sea; no commodious Building; no Instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force; no Knowledge of the face of the Earth; no account of Time; no Arts; no Letters; and which is worst of all, continuall feare, and danger of violent death; And the life of man, solitary, poore, nasty, brutish, and short.

Hobbes and Snow both believe that without a government, the people of Panem would tear each other apart. The government protects people from themselves. The Games, by extension, keep the districts in line. They do not allow the districts to make demands. They keep them bound to the terms of the Treaty of Treason.

The Games are, then, under this belief, for the Greater Good. They work as a clause of the contract to ensure that Panem does not devolve into killing one another.

The justification under Hobbes's point that people must give up freedoms to benefit from a system now reads like this:

Giving up two children to the Games each year as a trade for protection is less of a cost to pay than having everyone kill each other barbarically.

Hobbes further claims that both parties in the contract must benefit from it. They must be better off in the contract than outside of it. Both the Capitol and the districts do benefit from a strong central government:

Low unemployment rates

Government assistance programs (tesserae)

Assigned housing

Schools

Protection from the outside world (Navy, Electric Fence)

While we know the downfalls of each of these things, they are technically benefits in the metaphorical contract between the districts and the government. It is when these things begin to dwindle, that people of District 12 begin to revolt. You can read my essay on why the burning the Hob was burning Hobbes here.

Under the belief that all humans are inherently selfish, the Games as a tool to keep people in line can, technically, be justified under the greater good. The Games protect Panem from devolving. According to this belief, they benefit everyone.

Further, 23 deaths a year over the span of 75 years comes out to about 1,750 (inc. the 2QQ, but not accounting for who all escaped the 75th). Those deaths, 23/year, are fewer than the number of casualties from the bombing of d12 alone. If one were to argue utilitarianism's greatest good, saving 7,200 d12 lives by not rebelling would have kept those people alive. The rebels take thousands of lives, too, in d2, in the Capitol, etc. The Hunger Games killed fewer people than the war did.

(Of course, this is with the limit of the games going 75 years and not accounting for the fact the Games were the reason the war happened in the first place.)

All of this hinges on one foundational aspect, though: The belief that without a strong government to control them, humans will devolve into chaos.

The Games are founded on fear. The justification digs its roots in that fear, and it waters itself with the hatred for the districts for the pain the capitol people suffered during the war.

It's why the propagandist aspect of this argument is so believable to someone who has been in the Capitol their entire lives. It reinforces their foundational, fearful beliefs that the Capitol protects them from the outside world, not that it keeps them from it.

It's d12's electric fence around the Capitol without the power to keep it on. It grounds itself in fear, and only fear.

[slayfics]

You and Obanai take a shortcut through the Entertainment District.

Warnings: Some suggestive themes due to the nature of the Entertainment District

It was an unexpected surprise for Obanai to be assigned to the same mission as you. With both of you working together the demon was taken care of in what might have been record time. Now you both had the long journey back to your estates.

"I almost feel bad for the demon having to deal with both of us. It never stood a chance," you said laughing sweetly. If it was anyone else Obanai would have harshly argued that demons are creatures not deserving of pity. However, your sweet laughter rang in his ears and squeezed his heart in a way he couldn't deny.

"This was a rather quick mission," he agreed.

"It took longer to get here than it did fighting the demon! I'm not looking forward to the journey back," You said with a heavy sigh.

Obanai looked you over and noticed how exhausted the mission had left you. Wanting to help any way he could he suggested a shortcut before he thought it all the way through. "We could take the shorter route through the Entertainment District," he suggested.

"Oh, is that really shorter? Let's do it, I've never been there before!" You said, bubbly as ever.

Your precious enthusiasm was almost enough to make Obanai overlook what he had actually signed you both up for.

The Entertainment District was unpredictable and full of people. Particularly men, and those looking for young women to work in their houses. Obanai wasn't worried about anything happening to you, not with him there. Anyone would be lucky to survive even looking at you.

However, that was the problem.

You were undeniably attractive and it would go without saying that you would catch a lot of attention walking through the district. Obanai took a deep breath to calm himself, reminding himself that you both were just passing through, and he would be by your side the whole time.

"What is it like there, Iguro?" You asked, becoming excited to see the district slowly coming into view.

"It's busy, so just stay close to me ok?" he said.

"Sure!" You said making it a point to match his strides and stay next to him.

When you both came upon the entrance of the district, it was busier than Obanai had ever remembered. He had only passed through once for a mission before but tonight seemed to overflow with people.

"Wow!" You mused, looking around taking in all the lights and sights to see. You quickly noticed some beautiful ladies up on a balcony seeming to call out to get Obanai's attention.

"Hey it seems like they want us to go in there," You said curiously pointing and waving back at the ladies.

Your innocence both captivated and pained Obanai. How was he to tell you what this place was actually about?

"Best to keep moving, we have more missions to worry about," Obanai decided to say hoping to pull your attention away.

"Right," you agreed, continuing to match his strides, not that he would ever let you out of his sight regardless. Becoming painfully aware of all the eyes on you Obanai took off his haori and handed it to you.

"Put this on please," He said, wanting you to cover up more from the on-looking gazes.

"What for?" you asked.

"It is a bit cold and I don't want you to get sick," He lied. A blush tinted your cheeks at his concerns.

"Oh, ok Iguro," you said and slipped your arms through the sleeves. Even with the added clothing the eyes watching you pass by were beginning to enrage Obanai causing him to protectively place his hand on your shoulder.

You looked at his hand on your shoulder feeling even more flustered. It was rare for Obanai to touch you outside of helping during battles with demons. "Just keep walking, we are almost through," He instructed.

Right as you were nearing the end you both were approached by an interested buyer.

"Sir, is she looking for a house? I would pay you handsomely," the buyer offered.

"Hu?" You turned to look confused about the statement. What you saw sent shivers down your spine. Obanai's pupils had all but disappeared and it seemed as though heat was radiating off of him. Before you could even gasp Obanai had the man's arm twisted behind his back.

"DON'T YOU EVEN INSINUATE SHE IS FOR SALE!" He yelled, as the man apologized and pleaded for him to let go.

"Iguro!" You yelled, shocked that he would attack a civilian. You had only seen him use force like that with a demon. Hearing your voice seemed to snap Obanai's senses back and he released the man who took off running.

Obanai swiftly grabbed your hand and led you out of the district.

"Are you ok?" He asked, still holding your hand.

"Of course, no one touched me! What was that about though? He asked if I was for sale. I don't understand."

Obanai looked down, now aware of still holding your hand. He let it go, and a blush swept over his cheeks as he took in a deep breath.

"You should just stay clear of this place ok," he explained.

"Do people really sell girls here?" You questioned further.

"It's not a good place." Was the only further explanation he gave. "I would never have let anyone come near you though."

"I know Iguro," You said, grabbing his hand back, causing his blush to appear again. "I never worry when you're next to me."

Obanai pulled his hand away and looked to the floor, "We better keep going." he said.

"Oh- I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You said, trying to hide the disappointment on your face caused by the Hashira retreating from you.

Uncomfortable.

You could never make him uncomfortable. That was not the problem. You deserved so much more than him. He would die to keep you safe, all while knowing he would never be deserving enough for your love.

Uncomfortable.

He just passed all the beautiful women in the world, but they were nothing compared to you. He would give any one of them up just to graze you, but he could never admit that. Instead, he kept his burning affections to himself, in hopes that in the next life, he would be worthy of your affections.

Here it is, my first Obanai x reader. I’ve had this idea for awhile so I’m excited to finally share it! As some of you realized Obanai also has a very special place in my heart. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for reading~

Shout out to the lovely @snowmist-hashira for helping me gather some words. Please check out her fics if you haven’t~