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#That's what I got out of his early actions in Winds of Change anyway
bonefall · 1 year
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So what do your leaders do all day? In the cannon clans it seems like they just sit around at camp all day and let the deputies do all of the work. Until the plot needs them anyway.
Leaders are given 9 lives for a very important purpose; they are supposed to live as their Clanmates do, understand them, and guide them as shining examples of what a warrior should be.
A leader who's inaccessible is considered a failure. Clans can't do anything about this until ASC and it's rare to begin with, but their clan WILL get upset about it.
Patrolling, sparring, hunting, and even cooking are all things a leader should be doing. Is it still very high-pressure? Yes. Ultimate authority rests on them.
So what's a deputy for?
Busywork. Day-to-day decisions that would prevent a leader from actually engaging with clan life. Setting up patrols, gathering news, settling small disputes, etc.
You could consider them a very authoritative secretary. If a Clan is being TOTALLY run by its deputy, that's a problem. If a Clan is BARELY being run by its deputy, that is also a problem.
So, expect to see cats like Firestar just around more often. It's not shocking to see him return from patrol or a little walk, carrying a mouse or two.
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cinnamonest · 1 year
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Yandere twst - Kalim Al-Asim
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Taking this as an opportunity to talk about my BOY my LOVE my ANGEL
I'm making not quite a profile but more of a general HCs post? This is similar to the one I did for Floyd, will probably make more in the future
Also Prefect!Darling because it just makes sense here I suppose, but prior to book 5, and pretend Grim is just... off doing his own thing
For once I'm doing a dubcon/consensual/semi consensual up until a point because I like the dynamic of "I liked you initially and agreed to a consensual relationship at first but now you're going too far and freaking me out" which I feel is a dynamic I don't touch on often enough so I'm changing that  >:3
//dubcon, yandere, alcohol consumption/one-sided drunk sex, dark content, fem darling, impreg mentions
Also go follow @inkblot22 !!
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You can't really go a long time on campus without knowing of Kalim. Not necessarily knowing him personally, but knowing of him, seeing him, hearing people mention him, being generally aware of him. Even if it weren't for his housewarden status, his personality and outgoingness tends to make him a well-known individual. Not to mention the degree to which he goes out of his way to meet people. Every time he sees a person he doesn't know, he usually takes the time to engage with them, and will at least know their name and face by the time the conversation ends.
Said encounter can be jarring; after all, you'll just be minding your business when some stranger comes bounding over with a startlingly loud voice and bright eyes and more energy than a wind turbine. If you're not the sort to be inclined to conversation with people you barely know, it's that much worse, although he can really tire out even the most extroverted of people anyway.
But that's the sort of person he is, that's what everyone else says, that's what you witness early on, so, you wouldn't think much of it, give it no real thought.
Not that he's a particularly self-aware person himself. He's prone to following whims and impulses, not stopping to think about the implications and meanings nor the consequences nor the way his actions and words will be perceived.
Your reaction to his presence is like that of most people -- a little bit overwhelmed by his energy, but the fact that he's so sincere and warm-hearted makes it impossible to really dislike him.
However, very early on, you do end up having to deal with his energy quite a bit, after you manage to get assigned some sort of project together, one random day during class. But still, it's not something you think much of. If anything, you're mostly just glad that it's someone you've already met, and that you got put with a rather genial person, when it could have been an unpleasant person. He's already talking rapidly about his vision for said project by the time you leave that day, so you exchange numbers, agree to meet the next day, and return to your own dorm.
It's a small project. Doesn't take too long, you just meet after class two days in a row, but each time, you leave totally exhausted. He's just so loud and so high-energy, it drains you. Still, who are you to complain? He's too sweet to be upset about it. Besides, it's just for a few days. Although he's quite talkative in general, you seem to really trigger a positive reaction in him when you casually inquire about something he's wearing, which then turns into a few questions about his homeland, out of pure curiosity. His eyes seem to light up, and he gets very enthusiastic talking all about it, seemingly pleased that you would want to know. A fairly normal interaction, and you're glad it seemed to make him so happy.
He seems to bond with you over that event, even though you didn't think you really got to know each other that well or anything. Regardless, he now comes to sit beside you in that class each day. Not that you mind. Even if he has so much energy, he's forced to be fairly quiet and still during the class itself (although he still does try to talk to you, which has resulted in the professors having to tell him to be quiet on multiple occasions).
You don't mind, either, when he begins to seek you out for lunches, and after class.  In fact, he quickly endears himself to you. It just happens naturally, he's good at doing so without intending to. How could you not like him, really? Sure, he can be loud and a bit overbearing, but he's so sweet and friendly and genial. He makes for a good friend, and you're rather grateful to have another familiar face and someone to rely on in the enigma of a situation you've found yourself in with this whole place. He gets along well with pretty much anyone he talks to as well, so you don't have to worry about him not mingling well with whoever else you might have with you or be talking to.
All in all, you think very little of his presence. He doesn't stand out to you or hold any greater significance to you than any of the other people you've become acquainted with.
...But that gradually begins to change. Not by any will of your own, but rather, because he essentially forces his way into omnipresence in your life.
He nearly gives you a heart attack the first morning you groggily make your way out the front door of Ramshackle just to be met with him standing right there. Yawning and sleepy, but still smiling. His walk to class takes him right by here anyway, figured he should start waiting for you!
It's a bit too much for your comfort, but such a thing aligns with the person you've come to know him to be, and really, it's a very considerate and kind gesture, isn't it? It may be a bit overbearing, but he has such good intentions, and what kind of person would be ungrateful for someone's kindness like that? In fact, you're rather pleasantly surprised he would consider you to be on such a level of friendship despite not having known each other all that long. Thus, you do your best to smile back and thank him for the gesture. It's not like it's a long walk to class anyway.
It becomes a fast routine. He's there in the mornings. He's there when classes let out for the lunch period, he manages to find you in the halls and get a few minutes of conversation in during the time between classes whenever possible. He's there at the end of the day, usually he keeps inviting you to the pop music club (or rather, the chatting and hangout spot that takes place in what's supposed to be the pop music club). But once more, you're grateful for the company and opportunity to become acquainted with others, and it's not like it takes that much time. He always bids you farewell at the end of the club's designated time, so, you get to then go home to your more tranquil dorm environment. Tiring, yes, but you don't dislike the time you spend with them at all, they're very pleasant to be around.
Likewise, although you might have had a nice relaxing evening at home planned, you gladly accept the extension of hospitality and gesture of kindness by saying yes to the invitation to come by the Scarabia dorm. Apparently they all have big dorm-wide social events on Friday nights and Saturday nights where everyone sits around and eats and drinks and talks. It's very pleasant. Again, another very tiring ordeal, but everyone is so upbeat and friendly with you, and you do have fun each time you go. Which starts off being every now and then, and quickly becomes each week. Not that he keeps asking, but rather, he seems to start assuming you'll come, mentioning later tonight or when you get there in conversation and the like.
It's nice. It's a kind gesture. It's something you should be thankful for. But... it's just getting to be more than you can handle.
One Friday in particular, as you walk out of class and back towards the dorms, serves as a bit of a breaking point. You hate to hurt his feelings or anything, but you're utterly exhausted from a rather rough week. You feel a twinge of frustration when he starts talking about the upcoming night as per usual, which would now be in just a matter of a few hours.
You take a deep breath.
Actually, Kalim...
You tell him in the nicest way you can, that you're very, very tired, and don't think you have the energy to be interacting with a bunch of people, in those exact words. You brace yourself to feel a little guilty at his disappointment.
But no, he just smiles. That's fine! Don't worry. You go on ahead and go back to your dorm, and he'll be back in just a little while.
You nod. Oh, thank y--
Wait.
You pause, start to question, but when you tilt your head up, he's already run off, rushing back to his own dorm.
...'be back'?
You don't like the implications of that wording. Still, you groggily shuffle your way back to your dorm, not bothering to undress for the day, seeing as you have a feeling you won't be left alone... at least you get about half an hour of rest in before he comes barging into Ramshackle without so much as a warning knock.
Carrying what appears to be containers of food. Can't let you go hungry! Besides, you're tired, so you probably wouldn't have the energy to make any for yourself, so he just picked up some of the food that was being made for the event.
You stand quiet and still for a few moments, taking it all in, but manage to stutter out some thanks as you take it out of of his hands. Was he just coming to drop that off, or...?
Apparently not. As he wanders over and plops down on your couch (still talking, although you're too tired to even really process what he's saying), it becomes clear he's not going anywhere.
At first, you feel a bit of frustration, but then again, you do like him, he's fun to be around, and he went out of his way to be so helpful to you... when you think about it like that, you feel a bit guilty for even being frustrated in the first place. Besides, he's more calm and less loud when it's just the two of you, and not a full crowd, so it should be easier. You end up talking a while about nothing in particular, and at the end of the night (when after quite a few attempts to hint that you're very tired, he finally seems to get it and heads home), you find that you were glad he did that for you.
Yes, you're very grateful for the companionship. You become more and more used to him and his ways with time, anyway, as the days go on, as you spend more and more time together, and as he starts sitting next to you with each class.
He tends to invade your personal space a bit, but as with everything else, it's well-intentioned and you can't be too upset about it. He tends to forget his textbook as a regular occurrence, and so you end up sharing one, moving the chairs closer to meet in the middle so you can both look over it better. He's very upbeat and lively as always throughout the classes, especially at the 8 a.m. class, when you're really, really not quite mentally ready to deal with his energy just yet... but you manage.
He becomes more affectionate over time, too. Some of his affectionate intentions tend to backfire, though. Namely, gifts. It's a default way of his to try and earn people's favor, although that end is more subconscious -- he mostly just likes giving gifts because he likes getting praise and thanks and seeing people in awe and happy.
Kalim has very little concept of monetary value besides "more expensive = better = more affection points from recipient," so predictably, he just tends to think of gifts and then purchase the most expensive version of that thing that he can. Bonus points if it's truly a one-of-a-kind sort of thing -- no, this isn't just "a" gemstone, it's the only one specifically worn by this person or present at this historical event, and he just so happened to call home and convince his parents to have it extracted from the museum and turned into something for you instead! Neat, right?
He fails to realize that this might be more unpleasant for some people who might feel overwhelmed or guilty or pressured by such an act, as you quickly become. You can't even wear it all every day, seeing as you soon have three, four, five, and so on of the pieces he gives you, and you can only wear one at a time. And just the thought of having it makes you nervous... what are you supposed to do with a piece of jewelry that costs as much as a house? Obviously you wear it, but it almost feels wrong to just set it on the nightstand when you take it off... and what happens if you lose it? Ugh.
He's very touchy, too. The closer you get to him socially, the touchier he gets. It starts off as grabbing you by the wrist or an arm over your shoulder, but quickly progresses to leaning on you, wrapping arms around you, and so on, the more you get to know him. You grind your teeth and put up with it for a while, telling yourself it's not bad enough that it's worth the awkwardness of asking him to stop. Besides, he means well, you know that... and on top of that, maybe it's a cultural difference? You're not really familiar with Scalding Sands social and interpersonal norms or anything. Yeah, that's probably it.
All of it gradually manifests into a more pressing matter. The more attentive to you he becomes, the closer to you he gets, the more time you spend together -- it becomes more and more clear that he has feelings and intentions that venture beyond the platonic.
You suppose you should have prepared for that possibility, but still, you don't want to rush to conclusions or make assumptions, so at first, you take the small indicators into account, but give the benefit of the doubt. It becomes more difficult to do so, though, the more affectionate he becomes. You're pretty sure it's not very normal to give so many gifts, to spend so much time together, to be so touchy, if not for some deeper intention, conscious or not.
But that would be alright, wouldn't it? Maybe you should give it a chance. You can't see why not, can't think of any reason in particular it would be a bad idea or anything, other than maybe his high energy, which you're sure you could work with.
You never initiate or say anything about it, you decide to sort of leave the matter up in the air so to speak, but you don't resist or discourage him. You decide that the approach you'll take is that if something develops, that's fine, and if not, that's fine too. You just leave any initiative matters up to him.
As for him, despite his tendencies to be rather dense, he actually has no trouble recognizing the feeling he has for what it is, doesn't go through that stage that some equally dense individuals go through where they don't understand what they feel or why. Probably because his parents keep hounding him about getting married. People of his class standing tend to get married exceptionally young, you see. So he's been more or less raised to have that on his mind. Not to mention, he's not really easily embarrassed, so the natural shyness most people have on matters of that nature just doesn't come to him.
However, there's a distinct lack of a critical element found in virtually and literally anyone else: Kalim has no fear of rejection.
Not because he's overly-confident or has thought it through, but because the very concept does not occur to him.
It's one part of a much, much bigger, more significant issue, one that you haven't quite realized the severity of just yet. In fact, it's a major part of the reason he's always so good-natured, the reason you never see him mad. It's because, for most of his life, he has almost never, ever, been told one specific word.
'No.'
The thought of something not going the way he wants it to just... doesn't really cross his mind.
He's never really been told no on something he truly wants. Minor details have to be changed? Sure. Being made to compromise on insignificant things? Yeah, plenty of times. But there is a simple set of rules his parents and servants have always abided by. If he really wants something unrealistic, try and present alternatives or persuade him against it, sure, that's fine. But if he rejects both of those things, if he insists a third time that he wants something and will not take an alternative, it's easier to just let him have whatever he wants.
And if it is something one of its kind, an obtainable thing that can be had by only one, then he will be the one to have it. Simple as. And when it comes to being friends or people being around him or just being able to spend time with someone, he has almost never been told he can't have what he wants.
Consequently, on the rare occasion he's told "no," it just... goes in one ear and out the other. He doesn't get mad, no, it's like his brain simply refuses to process the word, the idea that he truly, absolutely cannot have what he wants. It's like a computer going to an error screen. His smile doesn't break for a second. He'll usually just misinterpret what the other party means, or assume it's due to a certain condition that must be met. Rarely does he ever have to hear a steadfast, resounding, firm "no."
Besides, as far as he's aware, you've shown no negative reactions towards anything he does, so he has no reason to think about that anyway.
It just all sort of lines up perfectly in his head. In fact, in his mind, he would already consider you to be "together" in an "official" sense, even if you've never actually spoken of it. After all, you've never turned him away, right? That's basically the same thing. Still, there's supposed to be like, steps to these sorts of things, you escalate various stages of relationships and all.
And that is about to open a world of problems.
One of the major issues you encounter with Kalim is a lack of emotional, social maturity. He's not particularly considerate. Well, rather, he bounces back and forth. He'll be very considerate in the sense that he's always thinking of you, always getting things for you and trying to make you happy in various ways. However, when he wants something, he has a tendency to think of no one besides himself. He's not so much intentionally inconsiderate or anything, so much as he just... doesn't think. He wasn't raised to really ever consider other people. All those basic life lessons about sharing, compromising, doing what someone else wants to do even if you don't really want to because they're your friend, to consider what the other person might want or feel before acting, and so on that most people learn from their parents as kids? He never got any of that.
Similarly, he's never really been taught that sometimes, one must supress their own whims and feelings and desires in the moment, that sometimes it's best to do what someone else wants. Again, this isn't malicious; if anything it's done with good intentions and a happy heart. He just doesn't stop to consider anything other than what he wants, when he wants it, however inconvenient it may be for anyone or everyone else.
And most importantly, he's never been taught to stop and consider that just because he wants to do something with someone, the other person might not want to.
There's another issue, then, regarding that. See, he's also rarely been scolded or reprimanded for how he chooses to do things, how he goes about his decisions and actions. He's never really stopped to consider how things he does might harm other people. This all amounts to an issue, one that would perhaps shock people. His moral compass isn't... fully intact.
Not to be misunderstood -- he's naturally benevolent and sweet, yes, but he's also never really been in a position where he even wanted to do anything really bad. That is to say, he's naturally inclined to doing good, but people might be shocked to learn that if he wants something, he might -- without really even being aware of it -- take jarringly unethical measures to do so.
He just doesn't perceive it as selfish. Doesn't realize it might hurt someone. Again, he has the best of intentions, and he would hate to have learned he's done something that hurt someone, but he doesn't stop for a second to contemplate whether or not he should be acting on his impulses and urges and desires beforehand, he has no foresight.
He thinks about it very logically, though, on his end. Usually, people are hesitant to do things that might be embarrassing or that they may not be comfortable with yet. But he doesn't consider that roundabout ways of coercion to get someone to do something out of their current realm of comfort might be wrong -- no, he just sees it in a practical way.
So it's easy. He has a very helpful tool at his disposal.
You're well aware by now that every time the dorm gets together, they tend to drink. He's not a true alcoholic or anything, no, more like just the kind of kid that likes to party hard and black out on weekends. Scalding Sands has its own variants of strong liquors, and as with any country, there are certain regions of the nation known for being home to heavy drinkers. Yes, it's true you're not technically supposed to have alcohol on campus, but exceptions can be made for uh... cultural traditions. The administration just doesn't need to know about how those weekend night social events are also home to drinking competitions, and it'll be fine.
Alcohol is a very practical tool, in a social setting. It helps people loosen up, makes them less nervous. Lowers their inhibitions. Their "true" self often comes out. And most importantly, they're easily persuaded. This is frequently used, thus, to ensure transparency in gatherings between high-status individuals.
You've normally declined in the past, instead choosing to sit back and watch everyone else get wasted... but you just need encouragement. You notice, the next time you go over, just how heavily he's pushing it on you. You have to try this, it's the something-something or another, only available from this one particular small town in the middle of nowhere and takes a hundred years before it's served, etc etc, that sort of thing.
If you're too resistant, eventually he just ends up more or less forcing it on you, pushing it into your hands so you instinctively grasp so it won't fall and moving away before you can try and get him to take it back. And if that doesn't work, he can just get you other drinks that have alcohol very well-masked by other strong flavors and either hot or frozen to somewhat mask the burn, getting you to drink a large amount in a very short time. If all else fails, feeding you incredibly spicy food and ensuring the nearest available drink is high-content always works.
Even without inebriating substances involved, he's loud and sociable and bubbly and pushy — the former traits help him to exercise the last without consequence. When you're mean, of course, people will react negatively to being pushy, but when you're nice, when you're a sweet energetic person? They oblige more often. So when it's forced upon you, you eventually reluctantly agree. You're a bit confused by the sudden pushiness, but it will be alright... you imagine. You end up saying something about how you don't feel great, that your head hurts. You keep leaning over on him, resting your head on his shoulder. The other students are so loud and rambunctious. Your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head as you ask if you can go find a quieter spot.
Oh, that works perfectly then. Don't even have to convince you to go.
Intentionally getting you intoxicated might sound bad, might seem like the sort of thing a scummy person would do... to a normal person. To him, though, it's just a very logical means to a well-thought-out plan. Even if, for a split second, the notion did strike him that it might not be the most ethical choice, he still won't think of it as that bad. If he really wants something, any means to obtain it will be rationalized as okay one way or another.
And if he can't justify it? He just ignores it. He is entirely capable of simply shutting his brain down and completely blocking out the realization of something being wrong. In fact, he essentially just does so automatically, so it's not really shutting his brain down, so much as just acting without taking into account any ethics in the first place, essentially never turning his brain on. It's not really even so much convincing himself, nor feigning ignorance, it's that he can quite literally close his mind to any thoughts of the deeper consequences and significance of anything he's doing. Not to mention, he's not entirely sober himself, so it's basically mutual inebriation.
Besides, you're really cute like this! Stumbling around and all, you keep asking where you're going. Thankfully it's easy to slip away unnoticed, and his room isn't that far either. You mumble some thanks for letting you lay down.
You curse yourself in your head for allowing yourself to get so bad. Your limbs feel all loosened up, you feel warm and somewhat tired. There's still perhaps some faint alarm bells going off in your head, that you probably shouldn't be doing this, and should probably ask to be taken back to Ramshackle instead, but that seems so far away, you don't want to take the effort.
You're jolted out of your spacey thoughts by the mattress shifting. When did you sit on the bed? Eh... no big deal.
But you're aware of the tension, even in your current state. Yeah, when you think about it, although it doesn't carry the sense of offense and disbelief you might have felt if in a clearer state of mind, you can put two and two together, you know exactly what he wants.
It does strike you as an immediate poor decision. You do like him, but you'd normally not rush into something like that, nor would doing it like this be the best idea.
But hey, maybe it will help? Or so says your compromised mind. He's a teenage boy and all, maybe if he gets what he wants he'll actually calm down a little. Maybe he'll lose part of his infatuation too. That's normal, isn't it? People really want to obtain some sort of "prize," but after obtaining it they stop being so pushy and obsessive to get it. He could stand to calm down a bit with how intense he is towards you.
And besides, maybe it's just the mood, maybe you did drink a bit too much, but it can't make things worse, right...?
Your mind seems to suspend the thought. You're not sure what conclusion you would come to, because the next thing you know, you're grimacing as the sunlight hits your eyes through the window quite unpleasantly.
Wait.
You piece things together. The arm looped around your body, pulling you close, the heavy, slow breathing in your ear. And the soreness speaks for itself.
You do remember things, as you start to try to recall. It was kind of like a puppy that's been made to sit and wait for a treat, finally getting the go-ahead to gobble it up. You don't remember too much of the event, but you do remember the entire bedframe rocking back and forth from the sheer force you were being jackhammered with.
You don't remember anything he might have said. You don't remember anything you might have said.
You spend a while laying in bed, contemplating your life choices... but you can smell alcohol on him too, so it's not like it was intentionally planned or anything. The very notion is immediately dismissed -- you're certain he wouldn't do that. Still, you'll have to just try and deal with the initial awkwardness and embarrassment that inherently comes when people sleep together and then have to acknowledge and address it the next morning, and move on from here. Not the best way to start a relationship, but not the worst. And you're certain it will work out alright.
It is awkward, at least for you. You get the sense he's quite happy, though, doesn't seem to have any negative reaction or even surprise when you nudge him awake. There is that sort of inherent embarrassing nature to the matter, some awkward chuckles and sheepishness from him, but you can tell he's content. You manage to muster out the uncomfortable question that you feel does need to be confirmed -- so... you're okay with this... continuing, right?
He seems almost perplexed by it, smile dropping to a look of mild confusion. Mm? Aren't you?
You just shake your head, smile, dismiss any concerns with something about how you just wanted to be sure. Yeah... this turned out to not be so bad. He'll probably calm down a lot now. And if it doesn't work out, you're sure you'll stay friends.
...
He does not, in fact, calm down.
If anything, he gets more intense. He still wants you to stay over the next night. You contemplate for a second maybe telling him that it was a bit rushed, maybe you're moving too fast and that maybe you should hold off before you do it again, but... ah, he's so eager, you'd feel bad for disappointing him... and thus, within a while, you find yourself with your thighs and arms wrapped around him again, trying to let go of any discomfort and just enjoy the moment. It's a bit more intimate and vulnerable and all when you have full mental clarity, but you suppose that makes it more endearing, too. Besides, he's so sweet and cuddly afterwards, which helps to alleviate your nerves.
And then, when the next class day rolls around, he wants to walk to class together, as usual... but this time, he grabs your hand, interlaces your fingers. Which is normal. You don't mind at all. Sitting next to each other, talking... all things you were doing already.
You can't help but feel, though, that the intensity has been turned up to some extent. Before, you would at least have a few moments to yourself, he would occasionally give you some semblance of space, would sometimes talk to other people on his own, would sometimes need to take care of something else before coming to talk to you... unlike now.
Now, rather than each of you heading back to your own dorms at the end of the day, he takes the turn to head back to Scarabia... still holding your hand, chattering away. You clear your throat, mention that your dorm is the other way.
Oh, did you need to grab something first?
...Well, spending another night in Scarabia won't hurt, even if it is a night you have school the next day. You just end up grabbing some clothes for the next day.
And then the next day, he does the same. You try to off-handedly mention again, that all your things are in the dorm.
Oh! Right, that. He's been meaning to ask about that! Good thing you brought it up. Your dorm is, you know, a bit dilapidated and all. There's plenty of spare rooms in Scarabia, though, you could just talk to the headmage and he'd probably let you do it!
Oh, aha... maybe....
You manage to change the subject. You're certainly not quite ready for that much just yet. At first, you figure it was just something he was saying as a vague notion, the sort of thing one might say would be nice but have no real intention of following through, or just said as a courtesy. He brings it up more and more often, though, and it soon becomes clear that he's serious, and actually quite adamant about it.
You keep coming up with excuses to get out of the matter. Oh, I went by his office and he wasn't there... Well, I'll have to ask Grim and see how he feels... so on and so on.
Most people might take the hint that you don't really want to and are just being polite... but not Kalim.
No, instead, he figures he might as well just take care of it for you! He has some free time while you're occupied, so, he'll just go to the headmage himself and get it worked out. It's not like he's going to tell him 'no,' right? Some people say the headmage can be a bit particular or stubborn on his decisions, but for him, he'd say that hasn't been his experience. That does tend to happen to him quite a bit, actually, he's pretty sure he just has a talent for making stubborn people more agreeable, for some reason. It's pretty rare for anyone to deny him a request.
You're caught quite off-guard, then, when you come slowly trudging back after a particularly exhausting day and --why are there people in my dorm.
A handful of scarlet-clad students, carrying boxes of your belongings out of the dorm. One very recognizable one in particular standing off to the side, seemingly directing the tasks. You slowly make your way over, slack-jawed and struck silent in bewilderment.
Oh, you're already here! Well, guess what? Crowley said it was fine! He got a quick moving crew together, thankfully didn't need too many people, since you don't have a whole lot of stuff. Wasn't it nice of them to volunteer? Anyway--
You stand there utterly flabbergasted, blinking, sputtering, stammering as you try to think of something to say. You weren't actually expecting him to be so bold as to do it himself... and it's all happening so fast, you end up more or less stiffly standing still and watching it all happen. They're already pretty much done, and carrying all your things back with them. These guys put in the effort to do this, and they're already walking off as you're trying to get out of your stupor, and your exhaustion isn't helping you form the right words.
You just get grabbed by the wrist as per usual before you even can say anything. Anything you might have started to say would be drowned out anyway, as you're now told in rapid speech about how there's already a spare room for you, it's actually next to his own, it's supposed to be for guests and stuff but they'll make a different room the designated guest room so that you can have the one close to him! Nice, right?
He keeps talking. You sputter and try to start speaking a few times, but words fail you. They've already taken everything out, it's too late to ask them to take it back... so, it seems you're stuck.
Well that's... that's....
Okay. That's alright. Maybe it's a bit too much, but... like always, he meant well, right? And this is normal, yeah, you're supposed to learn to tolerate and accept that your partner will sometimes create hassles and issues. So... you can accept this. It's such a nice gesture, it's only polite to accept, isn't it? Besides, you've already been spending most nights there anyway... you can get used to it, yeah.
There are a lot of perks. No ceiling leaks or drafts in the middle of the night. The furniture doesn't have years worth of layers of dust, there's other people around. In truth, it actually helps your mental state to have other people nearby in the evenings, so it's not always just the two of you for hours on end... not that you mind, of course, but sometimes it can get a little... suffocating, without other people.
Now, you can come by the public lounge of the dorm more often too, mingle with the other students in their lounge area. You often take the opportunity to sit and talk with them in the evenings. You start to find that you're somewhat glad you made the transition, as the whole spirit of camaraderie thing, having a small community to live with, is actually rather pleasant.
He thinks it's nice to see you get to interact with all the students in the dorm, too.
...It is nice, isn't it?
It should be. You enjoying yourself and meeting people who are nice to you naturally should induce a good feeling, he should be happy for you.
For some reason, though, it doesn't feel that way.
Instead, he starts to feel kind of sick, nauseous. And some sort of tight, constricting feeling to his chest. Like he can't breathe.
When he's irritated or frustrated, he might get whiny, but it's very easy to tell when he's deeply, truly upset by something: he gets quiet. It's so uncharacteristic that it's immediately noticeable, the lack of his voice and laughter, instead he just sits there, arms folded, eyebrows just barely furrowed as he looks towards the ground, as if perplexed. Still, he wouldn't want to ruin the mood. So even when you turn your head towards him, eyebrows raised as you ask if something is wrong, saying he's not saying much, he manages to smile anyway, say he's tired. Maybe that's true, too, maybe he needs to sleep the feeling off.
Well, if he could sleep in the first place. But instead, that night, he ends up flat on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Barely sleeps the whole night. Keeps looking over at you as you sleep, shifting and wrapping his arms around you tighter and tighter. The burning, gnawing, tight feeling persists. Maybe he ate too much.
But it continues to persist. Well into the next day. He's visibly tired, keeps nodding off in class, eyes slowly closing and head slowly drooping down until he snaps back awake, jerking his head back up, and repeat, over and over. You ask if something is wrong again. He just says he couldn't sleep for some reason, but still gives you a smile. And, of course, immediately takes the opportunity to ask what you want to do later today. No question of if you're free or if you're even up to it.
From that night you first noticed he was oddly quiet and onward, he seems to become more prone to wanting to spend time alone with you. Doesn't spend as much time in the club room, doesn't spend as much time in the lounge with the other students. Instead, you end up just in his room quite often... you get the sense that he's more at ease that way, seems less fidgety.
Besides, it's not as if he has too many moments where he doesn't have the reassurance of your presence. Outside of a few specific classes, you're with him pretty much all day, every day. His lack of consideration resurfaces. He'll drag you around to wherever he feels like going, often not asking before just grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you along. But you're fairly easygoing, and it's not like you don't usually end up enjoying however you spend your time, even if it is dictated to you without any consideration.
You don't have any excuse to go home in the evenings now though, since in his mind, apparently, you should now be spending your nights together. Every waking second. You didn't really think that having spent the night together once really meant you had to start it as a routine, but you don't want to hurt his feelings and all. He does tend to detract from the quality of your studying, though, seeing as he likes to talk quite a bit. Sure, you say you're studying, and he agrees to be quiet... for a few minutes. Then he seems to forget.
Or he might just get a little upset about it. It's rare to see him unhappy, but when he does get sort of frustrated, it manifests as being whiny, demanding your attention. He sighs and hangs his head, pouts if you continue to fail to give him attention.
Hey, come on... you've been going at that forever, I'm right here...
He drags his speech out and raises the pitch of his voice in a rather annoying whine. Not that "forever" is a very long time in reality, it usually only takes about five minutes of your attention not being focused on him that he gets visibly fidgety, and he'll start voicing his feelings regarding your cruel neglect after about ten minutes.
But he's very easy to placate. The moment you turn your attention back to him, give him some pats on the head or sit in his lap and hold him close, he goes back to content smiles and cheerfulness, like a child who finally got his way after being a brat until the parent gives in. At least that makes it easy to manage, so you tell yourself. A lot of your study sessions are now spent with your book on the bed, neck craned to read it as you let him keep a tight embrace around you, nuzzling you throughout the night. Your grades do decrease nonetheless.
In fact, at this point, he practically never takes his hands off of you. Constantly has his arms wrapped around your body, holding you close to him. That same lack of concept of personal space he has, and general social obtuseness, also ties into another issue he has in which he has no shame over excessive PDA. That touchiness and physical clinginess has gotten bad enough that the teachers have had to tell him it's inappropriate for the school environment more than once now. He won't hesitate to hold his arms around you or lean up against you even while talking to others. It's a bit embarrassing, but it's also quite sweet, really. You don't mind, although you do have to tell him to hold back a little bit, if people are looking, or if he's at risk of getting reprimanded by a nearby faculty member again.
That being said... it's nothing compared to the touchiness whenever you're alone.
Kalim has all the sexual eagerness and energy you'd expect from a teenage boy and then some. It can be a bit overwhelming, even.
Granted, you did have to teach him quite a bit, he was rather clueless in the beginning, but he quickly gets over that learning curve.
You're convinced it's all the boy thinks about. Every single opportunity. Even with how physically affectionate he is, even if it starts in a wholesome way, you can always feel his hands wander across your body, just barely resting on the border of what would be completely socially inappropriate in front of others, and the moment everyone else clears out or you leave whatever public space you were in, he takes it like a green light to grope you further. And the moment you get to be truly alone and behind closed doors, you're practically pounced on... not that it's limited to being in the dorms. The club room also works just fine, every now and then when Cater and Lilia just so happen to both be busy with something else. There's still a risk of someone walking by, but he insists it's not that big of a deal.
Even at lunch, in any spare time, whenever they have some form of event or announcement requiring all students to congregate in one room, he's always pressed up to you, always tilts his gaze up and down your figure, always lets his hands brush against your sides or your thighs, like he's about to burst with the extent of urges and excitement he's just barely holding back -- all of which gets unleashed on you at once whenever you do get back to your room for the day. Several times in a row. You're always left sore and spent, gasping for breath, lying flat on your back, drenched in sweat, staring up at the ceiling wondering how on earth it is humanly possible for one boy to be that horny. Even if there's the slightest sliver of opportunity, he'll take it. Truly a one-track mind.
One particular occurrence that quickly becomes habit is how he'll pull you into his lap while sitting cross-legged on the floor and rut into you like that — of course, there's not really a lot of thrusting or in-and-out movement that way, it's more grinding than anything, but it's still good, far more than you'd admit, with the way it grinds the most sensitive spots of your body against his. Besides, having you just perfectly elevated above his own position like that gives the opportunity to suckle on your tits the whole time, too.
And none of it is with asking you, or waiting for any signal of approval or anything. You imagine that, as with everything else, he doesn't consider that. He always seems happy though, always smiling and hugging you tight and talking about something or another while you lay in bed.
The daily cycle repeats and repeats. You do feel a bit more stressed than you used to, sort of... overwhelmed. Suffocated. You try to swallow it down.
Ultimately, this means that while your time is completely consumed by him, the inverse is true as well.
On that note, you do get the sense that Jamil quite appreciates you occupying so much of Kalim's time. The poor man hasn't had this much peace and tranquility in his life from the moment he was born. He certainly seems to encourage it from the beginning, even before you moved in, he would often not so subtly suggest you come by the dorm (please), Kalim really likes having you around, so you could occupy his time for a while (please), and, you know,  keep him out of any antics (PLEASE). He seems to mention it virtually every time you see him, like you're some kind of fallback system he's come to depend on, or how someone might keep a certain toy to give to a kid to keep it distracted and entertained for a while. He doesn't even seem to mind picking up some of the tasks Kalim would otherwise do himself -- you imagine that he can get it done faster and more efficiently on his own, whereas involving the often airheaded housewarden might just cause problems in and of itself. For the most part, he seems to stay out of your way... you imagine he's off enjoying his free time.
However, this does also mean that some of the housewarden duties that Kalim has to be the one to do are getting neglected. Jamil has to occasionally come knocking and tell him to do this or that, because he's been putting it off for days now and the headmage is going to find out and no one wants to have to sort through whatever mess will result if he doesn't get it done. You, of course, usually get dragged into helping with whatever the task at hand is. You've written more than one speech for him now. Admittedly, trying to get any actual work done with Kalim can be incredibly frustrating, as he's so easily distracted. You have to essentially corral him back into getting things done. Okay, we can look at that later, but we have to get this done first, remember? It feels like tutoring a rambunctious kid. Tasks that should reasonably take half an hour take several hours.
But still, with everything you two do together, it's getting more and more isolated, increasingly so. You can't help but notice. Even on the weekends, he often now brings food back to his room and eats with you, rather than going back out to where everyone else is. When you ask, he just says he's kind of tired tonight. Every now and then, he'll have turned his back on you because he was grabbing something or working with something, just for a few seconds, and when he turns around, you're talking to someone... he always comes walking up. Gets very close to you, tries to butt in on the conversation. He's cheery as always, but there's still some unnerving aura to it... or maybe you're just imagining it, so you tell yourself.
On and on it goes.
It's one of those situations that you're consciously aware of, that you know is increasing in intensity, but it does so in just a perfectly gradual way, so that you don't fully realize just how bad it's gotten or how abnormal it really is until it one day just suddenly dawns on you. Where you know you ought to do something, that you can't let this go on and that it can't last forever, but you keep pushing it away by telling yourself it's not that big of a deal and you can ignore it for now -- until you eventually realize that it now is that big of a deal and you can't keep ignoring it.
You're forced to realize it, after one particular occurrence. It's no big deal. Nothing of consequence. You forget to hand in a paper during class, and it thankfully occurs to you just as you're leaving and walking down the halls. Normally, for the very last class, Kalim just heads to the club room and waits for you to get there, since it's the room right next to where he is when classes end (the walk itself is a three-minute period you're quite grateful to have to yourself). So, you're still by yourself when you realize it, almost halfway down the stairs. You turn back, quickly make your way back to the classroom to catch the teacher before he leaves. You exchange a few brief words, just one of those small casual conversations where the teacher asks you if you need anything else, congratulates you on doing well on the last exam, briefly mentions something about an upcoming event day and asks about your plans for it. Small talk. Maybe ten minutes. You bid him farewell. Exit the room.
And are nearly tackled just a few steps out of the room.
There you are!
You lose your balance, would have fallen over if not for Kalim's arms clinging to your body.
Where were you? You didn't show up for a while, he was getting really concerned, and did you not check your phone because he sent you like ten texts the past few minutes and what were you busy with anyway and Lilia kept trying to tell him to stay and wait for you but he couldn't just do that so he came looking for you and found you and now here you are! Ah... don't worry him like that, okay?
You stand there, blinking, slackjawed. O-Okay... Sorry, I--I didn't...
Nah, don't worry, it's all good! He's back to smiling now. He was just super worried, but it's okay, you just forgot to tell him. He forgets stuff all the time, so he gets it. Anyway...
He changes the subject as he turns back to walk back to the club room -- but you can't help but notice the iron grip on your wrist is far tighter than normal, practically dragging you away. You don't really pay much attention to what he's saying. You feel a twisting, heavy sensation in your gut. That in and of itself wasn't particularly bad, but somehow, it seems to make it all come together, it all seems to sort of click with you all at once. Perhaps you were just giving him the benefit of the doubt because he's so sweet, or just ignoring it for the same reason, but you come to the unnerving realization of just how truly abnormal this is. You know it's not normal, and really, not acceptable, not healthy. You start thinking back to things in the past you've just let slide, realizing it probably wasn't the best idea.
You're so overwhelmed, it feels like you're going crazy. He's so nice, he really is, but you just can't take it. You even try saying something about how you need "space," but it goes in one ear and out the other -- he interprets that as not being quite as physically clingy for a few days before going right back to it.
It's from that resolution that, after one long night of sleeplessly mulling it over, you make a mistake: you start to try and avoid him.
Just a little. You figure it can't hurt, he won't notice. You just... try to get a bit of time to yourself. When you don't have a class with him, you rush out the door as soon as the class lets out rather than taking your time when packing up, to ensure he doesn't have time to get there before you exit the room. That way, you can take a few minutes to yourself, walk around campus or sit on a bench and enjoy not having someone breathing down your neck and looking over your shoulder the whole time.
Using the previous event that he got so worked up over as inspiration, you'll say you forgot to turn something in for a teacher and use the excuse to go run off and take a few minutes to sit in a room by yourself, sometimes intentionally "forgetting" to drop it off or turn it in so you can hold out the assignment in question to validate the excuse by him seeing it with his own eyes, avoiding suspicion. Whenever you get a spare moment where he's busy, you'll wander off somewhere he can't find you. Ignore his texts for a few minutes, claim you didn't see it because your phone was on silent for class earlier. Wait for him to come looking for you. Sometimes when the dorm students are all hanging out, you make some excuse to leave -- ah, my head hurts. Or I'm really exhausted. Or I'm not feeling so good. Soon followed, of course, with insistence on him staying. No, no, don't worry about me, I'm just going to lay down, I don't want to keep you from having fun... you can just come check on me later, right...? And he'll usually oblige after you insist a few times.
Not everyday, so as to not make it obvious, just every few days or so, you take the opportunities you get to catch some time to yourself. So on and so on. Surely he won't really notice. It's just a few minutes here and there. You're still spending the vast majority of every waking moment with him.
And at first, you're pretty sure he doesn't. Seems to accept the excuses, goes right back to his usual cheerfulness and cuddliness.
And then once becomes a few times, then ten, and so on. Something gradually begins to change. You sense an aura of worry from him, a nervous edge to his otherwise pleasant expression and tone of voice.
He's very well aware something is wrong. He's noticed your sudden aversions and seeming avoidance, even though he's normally too dense to pick up on such things, you've made it too obvious.
Did he do something wrong? Are you mad? You're not gonna break up with him, are you? You wouldn't do that to him, right? The very thought makes him feel sick. But... no, you wouldn't do that. You have no reason to. You're probably just being kind of moody or something. He remembers plenty of times how Jamil's sister would get upset at her brother for seemingly no reason, how he would occasionally sigh and make comments about how she's in one of her bad moods, can't be helped... maybe you have something like that too. That makes sense to him. But just in case, he's sure to buy you a bunch of extra expensive stuff over the course of the next week. Maybe it will cheer you up, too.
Yeah, you have no reason to be actually mad. Unless, of course, someone was influencing you somehow. Maybe someone else is saying things to you and making you so upset, or maybe someone might try and convince you to leave him or something. That happens, doesn't it? It happens in movies and stuff at least. That makes him feel sick all over again. But how would you be interacting with someone...?
Oh... well, you do have those weird gaps of time these days... a few minutes here or there where he can't find you. Maybe that's it. This is one of those "read between the lines" situations where what you say isn't really what you mean, even if you don't realize it. If he gives you "space," you'll just get attached to someone else.
While you're never aware of the thought process he has that day, you notice things getting worse. You pack up and run out of the classroom as fast as you can, but somehow he's already there. You say you need to drop something off, but he insists on going with you this time. Even if you keep saying you just want to go lay down and he should stay and keep talking with the other students, he just shakes his head, says something about how he can't just leave you alone.
His tone is sweet as always, but there's something to it that wasn't there before. Almost a sort of nervousness, an intensity, a forcefulness out of paranoia. You're not sure it's intentional, in fact, you're pretty certain he isn't at all self-aware of how pushy he is nor how he seems to be getting increasingly... anxious, really. Like there's a sort of worry in the back of his mind, that he's only aware of subconsciously, but acting upon nonetheless.
Even when you're walking around campus, his grip is tighter, and never lets up for even a second, like you're some dog on a leash that's going to bolt away the moment he relaxes his grip. You can't open your phone for a single second without him immediately peering over your shoulder to look.
He never says anything. He doesn't really act out of the ordinary. But there are those subtle, small signs. His grip is tighter, he sits closer than ever, he seems to keep his eyes on you more than he ever has. In particular, one blatantly noticeable change is that one night at random, he switches spots with you on the bed -- you used to be on the open side and him on the side against the wall, but now, without saying a word, he switches. Now you're against the wall side... you couldn't get up and out of bed and out the door without having to crawl over him, and inevitably wake him up. You try to tell yourself it wasn't intentional.
Apparently, though, whenever he can't find you, he doesn't hesitate to go to get others to help him. More than once, you've been stopped by Scarabia students in the halls -- oh, it's you, we all got a message saying you were lost or something... you try to avoid them when you see them.
Jamil doesn't exactly help, either. In fact, you tried to go to him once, mustered up the courage to try and ask him if he could help you maybe talk to Kalim or give you advice on how to handle it. But to your bewilderment, you're more or less gaslighted.
Really? It doesn't seem like you spend that much time together. You're probably just stressed from something else, and it's making you uneasy. Happens to everyone, don't worry.
You still try and reason with him, but he seems to shut you down, keeps repeating the same thing. Eventually you have to give up on trying to get any help from him. Although his words do make you feel rather neurotic for some time. That's not right, right? You're not making it up, it's not all in your head. You know what you've been experiencing... right? You have to shake the paranoia off. You're not sure why he would say such a thing though... none of it makes sense.
Jamil doesn't make things any easier for you either. Don't expect him not to very readily tell Kalim, whenever he's searching all around for you, that yes, you did come by here, you went in that direction, and you were probably headed for that specific location, so he should definitely go search there and spend time with you and not do literally anything else. Unlike the other Scarabia students, with Jamil it's not a matter of running into them directly -- you've had times where, after being found, Kalim makes some remark about oh, Jamil told me he saw you out the window, or otherwise vaguely made it clear who was the one to rat you out on your location, even though you never ran into him or even saw him. You begin to feel paranoid that you're being watched, any time you move around campus.
And each time, you get found faster and faster. Sometimes he finds you in minutes, before you can even try to find somewhere to rest. It's like he's developing some sixth sense, like he can somehow sense where you are.
...In fact, after a while, it reaches a level that it's unnatural. There's no way he's coincidentally finding you, or even relying on others.
One thought comes to mind. At first, you tell yourself you're being paranoid, that there's no way... but eventually you give into the paranoia, one day when you have just a few spare minutes in your room while he's right outside talking to some students, and you go searching through your bag. You're not hopeful, it's just a slight chance, but... yeah, no, there seems to be nothing there. You start to feel dumb for even considering--
Wait. There is something there. At the very, very bottom, underneath all the books. Some tiny, flat square shaped piece of hard plastic... barely the size of a bottlecap. You don't recognize it. There's nothing written on it. You start to feel a bit queasy.
You're still staring at it in your shaky hands when the door opens again. You swallow. Your voice comes out wavering. Hey, Kalim...?
Mm? He tilts his head, turning his attention towards you. You hold the object out.
What is this thing?
You were hoping for confusion, that he would have no idea, and even if not, you would expect some sheepishness, some sense of panic. But no. His expression doesn't even change.
Oh, that! I got that so I don't have to worry about losing track of you. Neat, isn't it?
Not even a hint of guilt or self-awareness. No, he just starts talking about how cool it is, it's technically military technology because it's so indestructible and will bypass metal detectors and wavelength sensors and stuff, it can track to any location in the world and it's technically not available to civilians, but his father has connections and all so he asked him to get one, and -- hey, is something wrong?
He finally seems to notice the wide-eyed look of distress on your face. You swallow.
O-oh... no, I just... you didn't... say any...
You shake your head to clear your thoughts. You say the first thing that comes to your impulse.
Hey, do you mind if I go take a walk? I just... need to clear my head a bit.
You start to move towards the door. You're stopped when he side-steps to block your path.
Eh? What's wrong?
You insist it's nothing. You say you just feel pent up. For once, you wish he was more dense than he is, because he certainly catches on to the wavering in your quiet, nervous voice.
Hey, you can tell me whatever it is. You look like you're really worried about something.
No, I just...
You take a few steps back. You find yourself stammering. You feel sick. Your heart is beating too fast. You try to make your way to the door slowly, casually, like you're relaxed, like you're not desperately trying to get away. You take a step to the side, start to walk in a circle as you try to distract him by saying something about how you've just been cooped up in the room for too long, and you'll only be gone a minute or so, and--
This time, in one swift movement, his hand lashes out and latches onto your arm. A grip so tight it's painful.
Hey, you're not going to go talk to someone else, right?
The words take you aback. Your eyes widen. You take a few moments to respond, it's such a random, unexpected question. It's so out of nowhere, the very notion seems like such a bizarre conclusion to draw. He doesn't say it angrily or anything, no, more like he's genuinely curious... but there's a clear note of worry to his voice.
Why did he come to that conclusion? You shake your head. No, I... I don't know why you'd think that, I...
He seems to notice the confusion and unease on your face. His own returns to that same smile as always. Ah, good. You had me worried. Haha...
Anyway... you should lay down. That will help you clear your head more than walking will. Besides, how is he supposed to know where you are if you're not carrying your bag? It's not like you get a choice -- it's not presented as a suggestion, he says it whilst simultaneously grabbing you by the waist and carrying you over to bed. He's pretty tired too! You can both rest for a while... you notice him grab the tracking chip off the bed where you set it down and loosely toss it back into your bag, before setting you down. Promptly jumping into bed as well. And his arms lock like a constrictor around your body, pulling your back up against his chest.
You can still feel your heart beating in your chest. The wrongness of the situation is setting in, every part of your brain is sounding alarm bells. That, with absolute certainty, you know is not normal, and more importantly, it's almost frightening. It feels like a weight compressing your chest as you realize just how deep of a hole you've dug yourself into, and you don't know how to safely get out. You can't even go talk to someone else, because he'll be right there. The more you think, the more nauseous you feel.
One other thing bothers you. He usually can fall asleep within a minute or two of laying down, and yet, you can still feel his hand stroking up and down your stomach. There's a heavy, silent tension. You keep trying to think of how to word what you want to say. After a few moments, though, he speaks before you can even summon the right words. His voice is unusually quiet.
Hey, you're not mad at me, right?
You stiffen.
I... no, I-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... come across that way....
Oh, good. You can feel him sigh. You seem kinda upset or something.
You stay quiet. Your mouth feels dry. You swallow. But you're given the opportunity, you can't just let it pass without finally getting out what you've been thinking.
...Listen.
He doesn't say anything, but you feel him shift his head. You're not sure if that's a good sign or not. Not being able to see his face makes it a bit easier, though, to get the words out.
I think... I think maybe we should, ah.... t-take... take a break.
You squeeze your eyes shut as you finish, clenching your jaw. Waiting for some kind of negative reaction. He sits upright.
But when you cautiously open your eyes, he looks... elated?
Oh! Like a vacation? That would be great! You should come back home with him! He's actually been thinking a lot about something like that. It's a good thing you mention it. He's mentioned you to his parents like ten times now, and they say they want to meet you, and you know there's that week you're all out of class coming up, and that would be a really good time to do it.
He keeps going on and on about it. It feels like some cruel joke from a higher power. You just sit there, staring forward with glazed-over eyes. Up until, that is, he says something about how he'll go call them, and be right back, and then leaps out of bed to go right outside for better service.
Hey, wait--Kalim--
You stumble over to the door in a panic, intending to try and stop him before he can. You reach out, grasp the handle, turn the knob.
It's... locked. From the outside.
...When did that get installed? You're certain no such mechanism was there before... when did...?
It's too much. You start to feel nauseous again. You're overwhelmed. You find yourself not even making it to the bed, instead laying flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. It's not like you can leave... you'll just... well, you'll just have to wait for him to come back. As much as that thought makes you uneasy, as much as everything is setting off your panic, you have no other choice. You drape your forearm over your eyes.
God, what have I gotten myself into...
...
On the other end, though, he's actually really glad you expressed interest in coming home with him. Well, you didn't explicitly say that, but basically the same thing. In fact, he's been thinking about taking you home for quite some time!
His parents have always been very persuasive people, especially considering the money and power involved that they have at their disposal... he sort of associates them with things working out for him. The few times he's ever had any issues, usually one phone call home is all it takes, and his parents will resolve the issue. Maybe they can sort of push you along the right direction too... after all, they do want him to get married as soon as he graduates.
And even if they don't approve, which would be the worst case scenario, he's already been thinking about how to deal with that, too! He's actually pretty proud of himself for really planning ahead for once.
It's just like how he initially got you into his room. Doing something underhanded to ensure things work out for him doesn't strike him as wrong.
What was it his parents used to say, whenever he was first getting ready to go out into the world and all that? That he should enjoy himself and have fun and meet people, but to avoid one specific thing.
Have all the fun you want, but don't you dare get...
The reasoning was... ah, something something scandal and disgrace to the family and all that... he wasn't really listening. But he knows that whenever there's some big scandal in the world of high-power people, they rush to cover it up. So they would help him, right? They'd help ensure things worked out in his favor.
In fact, he's already been trying a little bit. Got one of those pins they use for the classroom corkboards and keeps poking holes in those condoms... and takes them off a lot when you're not looking... but nothing has come of that yet, he's sure, because you would have said something. Ah, well, it'll probably just take some time. Sure, his parents will be SO mad... but he can accept that, so long as they then help him work things out the way he's hoping for. It seems like a good plan... or rather, an impulsive idea he had that he just sort of went with. He's not really the type to think things through, you know.
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another-dra-anew · 1 year
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Higa (- definitely someone you don't know yes yes)
I GENUINELY HOPE CANON HIGA EXPLODES I NEED TO PUT THIS DISCLAIMER UP. AAAA
anyways. nothing i can think to cw for/have been asked to cw for iirc? mentions of higas favorite hobby (committing hate crimes) but that’s abt all.
- My identity hc for them
homophobic homosexual. there’s nothing more to say- wait. sorry. he took the wrong red pill noooo higa no!!! okay now there’s nothing else to say
- Thoughts on their home life/family
now we start the fun game of how do i chat about my kids without spoiling things… ya know. okay. i think his paternal grandparents are actually p chill they’re just not even remotely involved bc they live vv far away. they’re a bit upset with tatsunori for never updating them. higa used to send them tickets to all his Big games but then he overheard them joking with tatsunori about how they were always traveling home just to travel back out again. so. he doesn’t send them tickets as often now
- How i feel about their canonical writing/handling
i think in a lot of early posts i wasn’t confident enough in my writing to make higa more of… a actual Issue? he was kinda just a dick who got shut down quick by everyone. so i need to go back and fix that. need to show his actions are like. Very Bad, and he def faces consequences.
- The one thing i’d want to make canon about them
uhh. well. u see. im kinda writing beta so. the only thing i can really think of is like… making canon “if (x) had happened to higa instead of (y), then he would’ve turned out like (z)”, since i can’t reallyyy… get into backstory changes like that? 
- My number one favorite ship for them
i think non despair red pill is fun!! (specify non despair because the kg isn’t really the best time for higas personal growth, which is smthn red pill kinda hinges on)- SORRY PEOPLE WHO ARENT IN THE SERVER? i don’t remember if this joke has breached contamination or not. red pill is yamaguchi/higa. 
especially in non despair (since side stepping away from others isn’t really a option in the game + kinda makes people feel homicidal), they both wind up kinda isolated/on the fringes of group interactions because they’re not just. abrasive but they say shit that actually feeds into negative stereotypes. so people r a bit. steps away from them. so should they both get the chance to grow and change they can bond over how hard it is to try and integrate into a group u were excluded from because of like. ur own decisions hurting people in the group. 
- …Now everyone else i ship with them
higa keeps hate criming people it’s kinda. hard to ship him with people. that being said i think it’s silly to say he has a bit of a crush on maeda. cuz i promise u all maeda, at best, is 😐 at higa. i don’t ship them together but i think the idea of higa having a crush on maeda is funny. it’s definitely not canon tho i don’t write beta with that in mind
- The thing i will NEVER ship
see above. god damn it higa. (not that u can’t hurt people and genuinely change and grow. but like. yeah i think a lot of those ships have kinda sunk). 
- a dynamic/relationship i wish was explored more (in canon, or in fandom)
hmmmmm…. i’d honestly like to talk more about kobas feelings on higa? specifically within the context of the game where it’s like. obviously koba doesn’t want higa to FUCKING DIE but while he understands the situation and knows if he felt uncomfortable or unsafe, he could say so and higa would get booted out. i think he’s just not very happy with the fact that they have to tip toe around higas general evil-ness so that he doesnt go off the rails and like. try to work with monokuma. he’s choosing so much mercy and so much emotional maturity. and that’s what sucks about being confined to one pov character!!!
- thoughts on their design (appearance-wise)
maybe if i stopped giving higa fits that are so easy to clown on, he’d leave his villain era. hm. anyways!! lol sweater vest lol. i do genuinely like his design (been gently working on kobas fit recently and giving them more distinctive color palettes, so that’s fun), buuut yeah! tbh i don’t see it changing i don’t know where i’d go from here. i think it works v well ! :D
- A music-related thought- a song that reminds me of them, or what their music taste is, etc
had to Hunt to find one. but animal - sir chloe makes me think like. a song higa would listen to, then close out of halfway through and never listen to it again but be haunted by the Thoughts it made him Think. im not good at interpreting songs the way they’re meant to be interpreted. :(. sorry to everyone behind sir chloe. 
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airlock · 2 years
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so, I just finished the Golden Wildfire route in Fire Emblem Warriors: Three Hopes, and I think I’ll be checking in with my impressions and opinions each time I finish a route. let’s get the critic boat floating, shall we?
first of all, for clarity: there’s a tiny bit of a route split, right. and I’ve been able to gather from every manner of interface spoiler that Byleth is playable, so, I heavily suspect that the thing that sends you off into one route or the other is whether you go out of your way to kill Byleth in that one chapter or not. I did do that, though, and that’s the route I finished; I have not yet played the other version.
anyways:
the first and foremost thing here is that hoo boy, this ain’t no Silver Snow+. this was the story actually centered on Claude that some of us have been longing for. it was a story that showed his hopes and dreams and decisions and actions; a story where we could see him actually act like a cynical schemer, a story where we could see him make mistakes, a story where we could see him change and grow. now, it wasn’t by any means a perfect story -- I have pleeeeenty to drag it for, which I’ll be doing shortly -- but at least, it was a story that made good use of the fantastic character they had helming it up, instead of wasting him as Verdant Wind did.
the top beef that I have with it, though, is that this story seemed hesitant to dive right into all the things that it’s really about. there was supposed to be a powerful arc where we start at Claude’s initial “roundtables are such a total waste of time, I wish I could just do everything around here my way”, but the second that wish comes true, he fucks it up because he tried to make a difficult decision without listening to anyone else, so he has to open up and start seeing the value in the opinions of others. this would have been AMAZING with better execution. as it stands, though, the early of the arc agrees too readily with Claude’s wrong initial opinion, he learns his lesson in less than an episode, and there very little of a sense of him actually really changing all that much. they even throw out one interesting idea with Claude deciding to open the Roundtable to more people than just the Five Great Lords when he does decide to actually run one -- this would have been interesting if it had been a bigger deal, and if it had taken him more thought to arrive at that conclusion. (not helping matters much is that the “mistake” that he made on his own was incredibly pedestrian. sure, Randolph died and it got Fleche to waste everyone’s time, resources, and Judith’s character, but one, nothing in the story really establishes that we should be listening to Shez and everyone else’s “we would’ve been fine if you’d risked our lives out there!!” instead of Claude’s decision to hedge his bets and protect his own first -- and two, Fleche’s outburst aside, that was an entirely favorable outcome for the alliance anyway. it’s crazy that only Petra, who’s not even an originary Golden Deer, was the only one who even noticed it. and that’s because...
... another big thing that this story wasn’t willing to commit to was the cynical terms of the Empire-Federation alliance. like, I LOVED seeing what I was seeing when it first went down; we got that Edelgard-Claude teamup that so many fans have long been speculating about, but in terms that actually make sense for their respective personalities and situations -- ie, they shook hands while holding daggers behind their backs. Claude very openly told all his allies as much: “the Empire is using us, and we’re using them right back”. I also loved his willingness to eat the Kingdom alive just for Leicester’s future, ostensibly justified by historical grudges but really you can tell it’s realpolitik at its finest. a real tragedy that it was only for the span of one start-of-chapter that they were willing to stick with this narrative. the second Randolph is in danger, everyone suddenly starts acting like there’s a real bond of friendship now between themselves and the truculent invaders they’d just finished barely fending off a little while back.
at some unspecified point, too, Claude decides that his Real Objective is to get rid of the Central Church to kill Fódlan’s dogma and make it more pliable to friendly relations with Almyra. that’s all fine and well, perfectly consistent with Claude’s character (the selfsame one who opens Verdant Wind with a “I wonder if it’d actually be a good thing if Rhea actually died back there”), but it comes out of ass nowhere just to set up an endgame.
and speaking of Almyra... yeah, we really have not seen much more of it than in the previous go-around, disappointingly. which is twisted, considering that they went to the trouble of introducing an entire new named character from Almyra! and all we got out of it is “as ruthless as Claude is, he hates killing” (already known) and “Nader and his subordinates care a bizarre amount about Almyra’s image in the eyes of their racist chicken neighbors” (weird).
but that’s enough about Claude; how did our other protagonist here fare? well, his (I played him as male) cheerful and fun personality added a lot of color to scenes where Three Houses would have forced the other characters involved to carry all the weight. and it helps that this protagonist, along with a personality (even if not a suuuuuuper deep or unique one), also actually has a background, connections to this world, views that were shaped by his lifestyle, things to contribute in a conversation. it’s funny that, although he was made a student for his time in the Academy, he would have made a far more believable teacher than Byleth ever did.
that said, he also really was a supporting point of view character. very little really came out of the greatly promised grudge match with Byleth -- and while I suspect I would’ve seen more of both Shez and Byleth if I’d gotten to the other side of the route split, I doubt that the 3-odd chapters I’d be getting differently there would have swung things THAT much. I can’t say that’s necessarily a really bad thing, though; I’d hazard a guess that Shez took a bit of a backseat in this route so that Claude could have the time in the limelight that Three Houses denied him. I’m just a few ways into my next route, but it already feels like that route is going to fuss more over Shez’s individual storyline! (although, if the Shez vs Byleth grudge match really never pans out all that much regardless of route -- well, what can I say, the Gronder Field rematch in Three Houses was supposed to be a big deal if the trailers were to be believed, and we were fooled once there.)
and then we have a third character yet to comment on as a pillar of this route: Holst. getting a character like him right is a massive undertaking -- he was absent in Three Houses but always spoken of, which causes the twin writing complications of having a lot that has already been established (and thus should preferrably not be contradicted) while also having little that was made a meat-and-bones part of the character. Koei pulled it off with remarkable aplomb here, though. the Holst is got is exactly the Holst we could’ve imagined from all the hearsay and then some, and he is a phenomenal character to boot. his antics with Balthus and Hilda are fucking priceless, and his stern-but-amiable demeanor adds another color to the Golden Deer’s rich pallette of distinct personalities. plus, even if everything else failed, you can’t possibly go wrong with ProZD on your voicetrack,
I’m pretty fond of the rest of what I saw in the cast, too. the way this distinct support system works, not having a conversation at every rank, probably made life much more manageable for the folks back at Koei, but it does make me wish some dynamics had had more time to themselves. not to mention all the characters who didn’t get supports with each other at all this swing-around -- I was disappointed to recruit Petra and find that she wasn’t bringing back her delightful supports with Claude, and it was strange to have gotten Shamir for free if she was going to have supports with so few of the deers. still, I can’t dwell overlong on what could have been when I got plenty of good out of what is. to name a few standouts -- it was pretty interesting to see Ignatz in this exact snapshot, where he just finally made his family’s dream come true and must start to contend with where his own dreams stand now (plus, his A conversation with Marianne was fucking hilarious and man alive, Chris La Monte can shout GOOD); Marianne herself also benefitted from this timeframe in that Three Houses’s uncertainity about whether to show her having grown as a person or not actually makes sense here, where she’s had far less time to grow and is still walking the balancing steps between “depressed loner” and “future margrave” -- plus, with all the additional Marihilda and several other fantastic support lines, particularly the new one with Bernadetta, damn, the girl’s unstoppable this time around, just having whoever she wants around here. the same can’t be said of Hilda, who in this runaround is off her game, striking out more often than she’s succeeding at flirting (her supports with Leonie are SO AWKWARD), and not wrapping everyone else around her fingers as much as she’s normally capable of -- and I actually like that, as a fresh take on the character that also perfectly suits the different circumstances at hand (see, she’s unstoppable in the base game because Holst is never around, and she starts off fooling easy marks, then gets 5 years of growths to develop the techniques she’ll use on everyone else. here, though, she hasn’t had as much time to refine her acts before she got thrown into the deep end, and Holst is completely debuffing her on top of it!). and lastly, man, it’s not that Shamir being queer is new, but this title decided it wasn’t going to be even a little bit subtle about that this time, and I love to see it!
also -- YES WORLDBUILDING. Three Houses may have relied on politics only as an aspect of character building, but the cast of Three Hopes has no such a luxury; everything that happens in this game takes into account the small and the great, the unique interests of every faction, the logistics, the skill. the characters in this game absolutely work within the world they live in, and generally not in spite of it.
and the gameplay, hmmmm. well, I’ll say, it’s plenty enjoyable and it got me hooked; there were plenty of times when I decided I wanted to let the Whole Lotta Dialogue & Cutscenes pile up a little so I could further extend out the time for semi-dumb button mashing to the sound of a youtube video in the background. it’s definitely not gameplay I’d recommend for just anyone, least of all people who are more used to the relaxed and controlled flow of gameplay that a Fire Emblem title normally has, but personally, I suppose I dig something about that intersection between time-sensitive action and intellectually demanding decisions. and I don’t always entirely mind all the prep work that there is to be done, too, although some parts of it are an asshassle (managing weapons especially, but I also needed to make myself a goddamn spreadsheet to manage supports and class progress more efficiently, and I despise that the game automatically changes weapons and skills for me when I change a character’s class. motherfucker, no, you’re constantly messing up my carefully laid out order and making me rebuild it!!)
I remember seeing a fair amount of criticism of Golden Wildfire being short and having loose ends, with people often going “wait, that’s it?” when it ended. personally, I can’t say I was surprised when I got to the end of the route -- if anything, I thought it was about to end like two chapters earlier -- but I suppose that hearing that criticism might have tempered my expectations with regards to the route length (plus, well, the fact that this is a Warriors game and not a full-on Fire Emblem title, ie something that can dedicate more time to storytelling -- although funny enough, I feel like Three Hopes actually ends up telling more story by the meter than Three Houses, since it’s not wasting a little over half the playtime on White Clouds). regardless, I do have to agree about the loose ends; this story started a lot of things that it didn’t finish, especially in the last several chapters. at least, I still feel like it got nearly all that it could out of Claude and the other characters -- the plotline unraveled, but the cast and the worldbuilding held fast. that’s more praise than I can give to just about any route from Three Houses, eh?
anyway, for my next sojourn, I’m visiting the lions’ den. my original plan was to fly like an eagle next, for Billy Kametz and because I’m curious about Edelgard and Monica especially -- but eh, Golden Wildfire let me recruit like ten billion Eagles (I didn’t take ‘em all in, but still!) and only one Lion (... who I didn’t take in anyway), so I felt that I had more new things to see if I went to Team Blue now. so, here I am, Holst’s special item in one hand (his unique is a BLAST to use) and Rufus’s head in the other, ready to roll! when I’m done with all that, you’ll be seeing more of my Opinions.
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📗📗 I am greedy, I desire two please. (for a fanfiction you haven't written but daydream about) thank you
Oh boy. Maybe I was the wrong person to ask for two from, cause this got Long!
I am mildly obsessed with Berserk right now, so mostly my brain has been viciously whipping up WIPs for that, but interestingly two of them are crossover fics. (Well actually 3)
However I also have at least one Blue Exorcist fic I have not written, but keep mulling over. This one's brief as its still in its concept stage: An anthology series I keep imagining but not writing in which I explore mainly Samael's past; I have from his conception, sometime way back in early Mesopotamia, up until things turned sour with Lucifer circa the fall of the Western Roman Empire sketched out. My favorite part so far is writing his relationship with Azazel, who I think of as very knowledgeable but punky, spunky, and a lil bit mean (ahem, courtesy Shiro, Myth of Aries, Myth of Odin, Myth of Zephyrus, and a few other wind and storm gods, plus actual mythological Azazel being a weirdly nice but also kinda douchey and temperamental demon)
The one that is most planned out however is a Blue Exorcist X Berserk crossover in which The Berserk Crew gets caught in a dimension-splitting slash by Skeketon Knight and wind up just over 700 years in the future, in a radically different timeline (The world of BE) Mephisto is no stranger to accidental time-space travellers, and usually keeps an eye on them, but stays away. Most of them die anyway, from the shock to their systems, or go completely mad, especially ones travelled so far. But, they wash up in Tokyo Bay, and he just happened to be nearby, so why not? After all, time travellers who survive the jump Always instigate change, at times radically, sometimes good, sometimes bad; in which case he's in prime position (the only position really) to either "help" or "abate" those changes (translation: they live or they die). He's the only one that can speak to them, anyhow - not a human left speaks Middle High German on a regular basis but him. Plus, Griffith has a very interesting little "toy" called a Behelit, which is of his own kin - how could the devil resist?
Highlights thus far include (long read):
Mephisto forcing the group to live in his Library, because it's the safest place he can think of where they will also be able to remotely educate themselves (Well. Griffith and Casca to a point.)
Rin meeting Guts after sneaking in and thinking he is THE coolest dude ever, and Guts being painfully awkward and shy about it cause he's no one's hero and isn't sure he wants to be; he wishes he could explain that that giant sword has cut horses in half without scaring the kid but he does not know how. Griffith is no help, he's just glad not to be fawned over for once, even if Mephisto has a creepy degree of interest in him.
Yukio finding out about these time travelling medieval knights and absolutely freaking out because Rin is oblivious to how fucking dangerous these people are or what the word "mercenary" means. He works with Mephisto to try and keep things hush hush. Rin is convinced otherwise.
This leads to a sorta well fleshed out situation in which the BE crew get to glimpse these knights in action...while fighting Amaimon, of all people. (Guts has faced apostles near that level of "oh fuck no" so I have faith he would be undeterred). The demon King nearly kills Griffith, who, in desperation and having done plenty of "reading" on summoning circles, (and conveniently has been slipped a paper) summons a Kirin by pleading for some kind of horse; he and Guts both are Cavalry, and without the heft and speed advantage, nothing is gonna get through Amaimon's scaly, armored tail. Kirin are stubborn, though, and very hard to tame - but once they bond with a person, they stay with them for life. Griffith pleads, and his love for Guts and sheer dominating willpower works, and the Kirin Yields, much to the utter shock of even Mephisto, who quite expected a different creature to appear (Behelit being kin of Time and Griffith possessing qualities that make him A Primo target for Kin of Light). Guts and Griffith, using the super speed of the Kirin and the weight of Guts' oversized claymore, gravely wound a fleeing Amaimon, much to the surprise of everyone watching, especially Rin, who is just starting to piece together that these are Dangerous People; but Rin also thinks that that is the most awesome display of (human) power ever. Even more awesome though is the healing scene, which I won't spoil much; it's very tender and sweet and defies what even Mephisto assumes is possible, so there's that.
Following this is a plot point I've drawn up, but have not worked out much, in which this encounter attracts attention and Mephisto is forced to reveal them to the Vatican. Griffith, Guts, and Casca are the only ones to attend - and it is here that they find out they can never go back home. They're too far away; to get back to where they were would take generations of time jumping, which is not something the King of Time is inclined to do. But, he can take them back to the same time, more or less. Just not the same place. But for a price, of course; what this price is, Idk yet.
What I do know is that Guts is very susceptible to possession, even as he is in the Golden Age. (Severe trauma will do that to a guy) And this is very well known to Mephisto, who has been riling him up all the while they've been in audience with the vatican - until something gives, and for a moment, in plain view of all, Guts is possessed by a kin of Spirit. (Upon closer inspection, Beast of Darkness is more Kin of Azazel than Kin of Armumahael) The Grigori were initially impressed, after all, that medeival humans with no formal training in exorcism had managed to so wound a demon King, and were quite willing to take them on as esquires/exwires. But Guts's instability is a liability, and would need to be ironed out first. The ramifications of this on Guts relationships with Griffith and Casca are...tragic. He could go demon at any time; and he has no way to stop it. Angst punctuated by tender, heart-throbbing fluff ensues.
In light of this, I think I'd like for Guts to have a budding friendship with Rin. They have quite a bit in common, and the fear of going berserk at any time is but one more thing to share in common.
Eventually, they will temporarily be assigned as "commissioned exorcists" which are essentially mercs. Rin will slowly come to realize that maybe Guts is not his friend in the way he envisioned - certainly the man has no love for demons, and is utterly ruthless in killing them. He kills the way only a man who has spent his whole life killing can - and it both scares, nay, terrifies, and excites Rin, because on one hand, for the first time he sees a human being that might be able to kill him before he can even react, with such deftness and efficiency he probably wouldn't even know he was dead. This is very scary for him. On the other hand though, that might not be a bad thing - he would rather be executed by someone he admires if it came to that. Plus he definitely wants to study these guys; Guts is terrifying, and frankly so is Griffith, who is just as deft and ruthless, but who also runs this show, and can bark out commands that are followed to the letter with absolutely zero recourse and definitely knows wtf he is doing. Judeau is a fucking phantom, coming out of nowhere, skirmishing, then vanishing again. Casca follows the same pattern, avoiding direct prolonged contact, but she can certainly hold her own with an arming sword. Pippin is a great vanguard, and a living mountain. Put a warpick in his hand and he is indomitable. Rin - along with the other exorcists assigned to the location, are utterly engrossed in the way these people fight, doing precisely what every exorcist should never do, fighting up close and personal, and being damned good at it. But more impressive to them still is how cohesive they are - something even Berserk mentions makes the Band of the Hawk so unique and effective. It inspires change in the way things are thought of, and Mephisto quietly muses over the fact he's been hurled into a different timeline, again, but isn't sure how this one is going to pan out. Time travellers always, always change things, either radically or minutely, for good or for ill, and he both hates and loves it when they happen.
Hope that satisfies!
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What was the inspiration behind your oc? What was the first thing you decided about them?
Isaac: The biggest inspiration for him was Ardeth from Nancy Baker's The Night Inside/Vampire's Kiss. Mainly, I liked how Ardeth was afraid and overwhelmed in her situation, but she was never simply passive. She was also allowed to feel anger and disgust toward her captors, not just fear, and took action against them when she could. That sort of balance between vulnerability and inner strength was something I've tried to write Isaac with since the start. (And bonding with a vampire who'd been meant to kill him, of course.)
Renato: He didn't have a direct inspiration really. I just needed to make a vampire who was dangerous, particularly because he knows how to get people to let their guards down. I didn't really start thinking about his backstory until after "Dysthanasia". I decided early on that I didn't want to soften the things he's done too much, but that Renato's not a soulless monster either. Treating him like one and killing him off would be letting us both off the hook.
Dorian: They didn't come from any particular source of inspiration. I knew only one thing about them in the beginning: They always wear a sweater, jacket, or coat. The rest has come together bit by bit while writing "Phagophobia". Each new discovery has been a delight so far.
Kinslayer: They're one of my oldest OCs actually. I think they sprung up from a weird combo of Captain Spaulding from House of 1000 Corpses, a New Age-y book on psychic vampires I'd been reading at the time, and the Skeksis from The Dark Crystal. A lot about them has changed over the years, but they remain true to their sometime antagonist, sometime antihero roots. And they've always enjoyed bullying their bloodborn cousins.
Vess: I think she's got a bit of Aughra from The Dark Crystal in her, except she's all grumpiness without the wisdom. I think the first thing I decided was that she's not really out to hurt Celina, the human she meets, but winds up doing so anyway for various reasons.
Ankaris: He's lived in my head rent-free for some years now, but I think I only actually wrote about him once. Another Skeksis-type character, with hints of Faust's Mephistopheles, Hannibal Lecter, and a dash of The Legend of Zelda's Happy Mask Salesman (yes, really). He has always been a slippery bastard.
Fior: She's barely a few weeks old! I guess you could say the whump community inspired her while I looked through stuff about intimate whumpers and pet whump. She and Ankaris would get along pretty well, but I decided she's slightly less...hands-on with the humans who fall into her clutches. Not that she's above hurting them in ways that would leave marks.
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tangleweave · 2 years
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😶 [For Phil] What's on your most embarrassing music play list? Have you ever been pranked? Have you ever pranked anyone? What was your most embarrassing moment as an agent?
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[ Uncomfortable Questions / Accepting ]
The inquiries posed by the Jeddak leave Phil hesitating on the next bite of his dinner, a Blue Burger from the Courthouse Pub -- a fixture of his Wisconsin hometown. Being a high-level agent of SHIELD with his own ride did grant certain benefits; among them, the ability to exercise his own prerogative on where the Bus was going to land for the evening. The crew were dining in cycles, and to nobody's surprise (though clearly to Dejah's delight), he'd invited her to join him at the restaurant. They've been on outings before, though he'd made the effort to clear the locales to maximize security... not so, here.
He sets the burger down and his lips curl upward at her. "Bold of you to think I find any of my music embarrassing," he says through his smirk. "I'll have you know I've cultivated my interests carefully. But, if you were to ask any of the others what they roll their eyes at, I do have those answers. Parliament-Funkadelic's 'Give Up the Funk', 'Concrete Jungle' by The Specials, and 'Go To Sleep' by Radiohead. A couple of them think that last one is maybe a little too on the nose for me. And there's also Frank Ocean's 'We All Try'."
With regards to the question about pranks, he blows a scoff out through his nostrils and shifts his gaze to one side before bringing it back to her. "Little things, back and forth. Nothing harmful, nothing that screams 'leak', but... inconveniences. Sometimes you have to create your own fun. A briefcase gets filled with cereal. A nice tie gets replaced with an ugly one. My favorite sunglasses once got replaced with googly-eye specs. I wore them anyway. Maybe the Tesseract winds up on your keyboard, slathered in what smells suspiciously like vomit. What do you do? New keyboard. Maybe a new desk to go with it. And a change of office. And maybe, someone replaced Agent Mackenzie's shampoo with a tonic that inadvertently scorched his follicles." His mouth twists at the memory. He feels bad about that one, truly. Karma's a bitch. Mack looks far better bald than Phil ever will going bald.
Her last question draws another wry smile on his face. "Oh, I got that one out of my system early. This was back in the 90's, when the Kree tried to attack Earth. Came to a Blockbuster Video to investigate this strange woman wearing alien armor, and I went inside to look around. Needed to use the restroom, so I did, but when I came back out, everyone was gone. Turns out in those thirty seconds my pants were down, I'd missed all the action, and then-Agent Fury left me behind without realizing it."
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buckysbabygorl · 3 years
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Hello! Idk if you’re currently accepting requests right now and if you aren’t, feel free to ignore or delete this! If you are, I would like to request a fluff oneshot with the reader (who possesses the ability to fly with wings) is practicing with their ability outside of the avengers compound one afternoon and standing in the field is Bucky, just watching them with pure adoration. 🥺
I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR THE LENGTH OF THIS REQUEST 😭
Flight Risk
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Word Count: 1.7k
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Masterlist
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“MOTHER FUCKER!”
Y/N fell once again as she took lift off.
At least she had manage a few feet this time.
Holy hell was this hard.
She looked to the clouds from her position in the grass, admiring the fluffy clusters above her. When she was younger, her mother told her they were made of the fallen feathers of angel wings, accumulating in soft mounds throughout the sky.
She reached to touch the end of her own wings, though they weren’t white, she liked to think that’s what the clouds above her felt like.
She knew they didn’t, in fact they didn’t feel like anything. Just cold, moist. Or so she had been told. She hadn’t felt them herself yet.
Her wings hadn’t been operational that long ago: DNA splicing experimentation and strenuous surgery had only produced these miraculous appendages on a  whim, she had been the only successful subject. There could have been more, but thankfully the Avengers stepped in once hearing that Zola’s previous experimentation had influenced a small group of mad scientists to use similar technologies. Kidnapping thousands of travellers throughout the decades and only recently been finding themselves successful in their results. They attempted to give people gills, fins, horns, hooves... and in Y/N’s case, wings.
They couldn’t send Y/N back into society; they knew she wouldn’t be accepted or be able to live a normal life. She was free to return to civillian life if she chose, but the team made her aware that she was more than welcome to join them.
So she did.
She surprisingly had proved herself to be a usefull asset, wings aside. She was strong, fast, cunning, high above the rest (both literally and metaphorically). She was a superhero now.
But unfortunately, she had no capabality of flying.
“I can teach you,” Sam said, “It’s not that difficult.”
“Your wings don’t count,” Y/N said, “Yours are mechnical. Mine are natural.”
“Well, as natural as science experiments can be.” Bruce said.
“Shut it,” she teased.
Technology aside, Sam had seemed like the only one with somewhat similar experiences to teach her some minor details.
He gave her the basics, but she was alone now.
Huffing, she lifted herself from the ground and dusted her clothes off. She shook out her wings, adjusting her shirt so that they didn’t bunch at the shoulders.
“Come on, you got this. Just bend, brace, expand, flap--”
She tried again, shooting up with wings narrowed. She then unfurled them as she rose higher into the air, but as another gust of wind came she found herself faltering and tumbling back down.
Bucky took out his earbuds as he jogged by. He hadn’t noticed her before, adjusting to the early morning hadn’t left him very observant of his surroundings. He watched as her wings spread, her eyes on the sky above. He couldn’t help but chuckle as she struggled to stay up, frustration scrunching her face.
“You okay? He called out.
She rested her hands on her knees, looking up at the voice. A small smile breaking her thoughts as she realized who it was.
“Yeah.” She called back.
He jogged to her place in the open field, slowing as he neared her and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Flight practice?” He asked.
“Not really,” she said as she crossed her legs, “It’s more ‘breaking for impact’ practice at this point.”
He laughed softly, bending to sit beside her as she checked her knees for scrapes.
“I take it Sam didn’t really give you the best advice.” He said, reaching out to run his thumb over a small bruise on her shin.
She sighed, “Well his heart’s in the right place but--we’ve got different mechanics. I don’t think he can relate to this. Not that many people can...”
She ran the back of her hand along the length of her wings, flicking upwards as she reached their soft end point.
Bucky admired the light brown color of her wings, reminding him of the sparrows that sometimes stopped on the windowsill of his bedroom. 
He was never really subtle with his staring, Sam had actually labelled it as his biggest problem. She wasn’t an exception to that; he often found his eyes chasing after her as she exited rooms, her expansive wings encompassing her figure. 
“One day she’s gonna catch you staring,” Sam warned, “you better hope she doesn’t kick your ass. She could get the wrong idea...”
Bucky didn’t like that her phrased it that way; as if he was gawking at her. He wasn’t looking at her like she was some freak, or a circus sideshow. It was more like... admiration.
She was beautiful.
He thought she was beautiful.
If anyone had taken a glimpse into his mind, it would be easy to understand that he wasn’t looking only because the wings were breathtaking, he felt she was too.
“Can I?” He asked.
His hand was held out in a loose open palm, just above the bed of feathers.
She nodded, and he ran his knuckles slowly along the length in the same way she had before.
They tickled slightly, the nerve endings in his fingers seemed to buzz. His hand shook slightly as he flicked upwards at the point, and she giggled quietly.
“It tickles when you do it.” She said.
He smiled, “Same here.”
He gently picked at blades of grass that had stuck to her wings,  “How long have you been out here?”
She looked up at the sun, noting its change in height.
“A few hours I think. I didn’t want anyone to see.”
“Well, sorry for the intrusion then.” 
She shrugged, “It’s alright. I like having you around.”
A blush creeped up his cheeks, and he ducked his head more, pretending to really focus on pulling out grass.
“So--uh, where do you think you’re going wrong?”
She chuckled at his bluntness, only further embarrassing Bucky.
“I don’t know. In my lift off I can’t make it stick. It just doesn’t feel natural.”
“Alright”, Bucky wasn’t sure how to help her, it wasn’t like he had any personal experience himself. “Well, what does feel natural?”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned back to lie on the grass, hands cradling his head as he looked up.
“I guess--I mean, when you look at birds, they just start flapping. That’s natural for them. Humans don’t fly; Sam’s wings are mechanical…”
Y/N realized early on in their relationship that Bucky had a tendency to ramble; though he liked when others were “to the point”, he lacked that quality himself. But she knew if she was patient, he’d get there eventually. And truthfully, she quite enjoyed listening to his tangents.
“...so Sam’s advice is based off what the wings are designed to do. Maybe you need to try testing it out the natural way. Move your wings in a way that feels right. Does that make sense?”
No, it didn’t.
But she smiled anyway, “Kind of. Like, don’t think about it and see where my body takes me?”
He chuckled, “That’s a weird way to phrase it, but yeah, something like that.”
Suddenly she stood up, making Bucky jump slightly.
She was no longer looking at him, only closing her eyes and expanding her wings.
He liked that she was a “0 to 100” type of person, out of nowhere she’d get an idea and then it was all action.
She let the wind ripple through her feathers, and she tried to gauge the current off her wings.
Don’t think about it… what feels right?
She couldn’t put it into words; but as she focused on her surroundings, feeling the breeze… some kind of instinct came over her.
Wait…
Bucky intently watched as she inhaled; steading herself as her wings unfurled.
Wait…
As the sun gleamed behind her, leaving him completely consumed in her shadow. 
It was breathtaking.
Her eyes snapped open.
Now.
The sudden flap of her wings threw Bucky back, the hard beat shooting her upwards and leaving him in the grass.
Each stride she took was with purpose, and before they knew it she was flying higher than she ever had before.
Bucky stood, laughing and smiling in awe as she soared along the current.
The wind roared in her ears, so loud she could barely hear her own laughter.
She was amazed, she was flying.
She let the wind pull her, ducking her wings and shooting off in another direction.
Bucky spun around in circles as she flew around him, trying to catch her figure against the blinding sunlight.
He was dizzy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Jesus Christ,” he said to himself. He cupped his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice, “You’re flying!” He screamed.
“I’m fucking flying!” She screamed back.
Just wait ‘til Sam saw this.
But then she got cocky, dipping further than she should’ve.
She caught a draft that clipped her wing.
It was too late to catch herself before she was fluttering to the ground.
“Shit!” She screamed.
“Shit.” Bucky muttered.
He started running in her direction, arms reaching out like he was catching a football.
“I’ve got you,” he cried, “I’ve got you!”
He caught her just in time, bracing for impact as they both crashed into the ground.
Hair windswept and cheeks red, Y/N screamed out in happiness.
“Oh my god, did you see that? Did you see me?”
He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head as she dramatically recounted the experience, his arms firmly holding her against him.
“And then I was like whoosh and the wind came and it was like AHH and then--”
She was cut off by his lips on hers.
His lips were soft, his touch surprisingly gentle for such a gruff man…
Her eyes closed and she pressed further into him, deepening the kiss.
He pulled away, leaving her more shocked than the flight had.
“I’m sorry,” He started, “It’s just--”
He looked into her eyes, unable to explain it all. How could he? She was just...
“--I think you’re amazing.”
She smiled back at him, “Oh I’ll show you amazing.”
Her hands wrapped around his collar as she pulled him back in for another kiss.
Bucky would have to remind himself to interrupt flight practice more often...
~
I hope you enjoyed @halietigges this request was so fun to make!
Taglist: @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @dumb-ass-writer @cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @emmabarnes @niiight-dreamerrrr @julipmoon @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins
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Text
Chan X Felix- Tiny Surprise
Tw: size kink, degrading, masturbation, fairies, piss.
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Felix flew through the forest, his glass like wings fluttering through the soft summer breeze and his silver blonde hair shimmering as the sun bounced off it. A soft giggle like wind chimes left his lips as he raced the butterfly back to his home. Felix’s place in this world was to heal and protect, from animals to plants a single sprinkle of his magical dust could repair any damage done to them.
He was well known amongst the butterflies and other various species in the forest. His bubbly fun personality made them all feel at peace so it wasn’t unusual for him to play with them and race home.
The two glided through the air before coming to a stop with a sudden ‘thud’.
That’s strange… I never remember there being a tree here. Felix thought to himself before looking up and being greeted by a man.
The small fairy felt panic rise in his chest. He saw his butterfly friend stuck in the material of the mans bag, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t risk being seen by the human.
He rushed to hide amongst the petals of a red rose, peeking out ever so slightly to watch the situation unfold as he hoped for the best.
“Aw hello there. Poor little thing.”
The human spoke, gently helping the butterfly free.
A small smile appeared on his lips as the bug fluttered away.
Felix let out a breath that he didn’t know he was even holding. He knew how relentless humans could be when it came to species smaller than them and he was just glad that this human didn’t hurt his friend.
Felix scanned the tall man with his eyes. He had soft orange hair and a handsome kind looking face. He wore a simple black tank top showing off the muscles in his arms and a pair of skinny jeans.
The fairy had to admit that this human was rather beautiful. It had been years since he last saw a human in this part of the forest. His head began to wonder.
What is he doing here? Will he be a threat to my home? What if he sees a fairy? I wonder how it would feel to run my fingers through his pretty hair.
He shook his head trying to forget the thought.
He knew he could never mingle with a human. It was deadly right?
Before he got himself into any more trouble he flew the short distance to his mushroom home before plopping down onto his buttercup sofa and sighing.
He couldn’t get the image of the human out of his head. He seemed different from others he had crossed paths with. Most would have just swatted the butterfly away but this man helped the creature. He closed his eyes letting his head paint an image of how the man looked again. Beautiful. His defined arm muscles. Veins bulging out. He had to be strong Felix thought to himself. If his arms are so pretty and veiny I wonder what his cock looks like? It’s got to be huge. Felix was probably no bigger than his hand but he wondered what it would feel like to be filled up with his big cock.
He had never felt this horny before and it was over a human that he barely even saw for five minutes. He let out a soft whimper as he began to palm at his hard cock with a tiny hand. He tugged at the material of his trousers pulling them down along with his red lace panties letting his cock spring free. He didn’t have the patience to tease himself today. He just needed to cum. He grabbed his length and began to fuck into his hand, his hips rolling back and fourth at just the right pace. Soft moans left his parted lips as he felt his high approach. Images of the human doing the same flashed through his head as he felt his entire body shake with orgasm and ribbons of white release from his cock. He panted , catching his breath feeling tired from his orgasm. He felt his eyes get heavy as he drifted into a sleep wondering what the fuck he had just done.
-The Next Day-
Like every other morning the fairy boy was awoken by the soft sunrise spilling through his windows. He tiredly fluttered over to his mirror to fix his appearance. Stepping out of his stained panties from the previous night and replacing them with a new pair. He wore blue skinny jeans and a black slightly cropped top that showed off his toned abdomen. Looking in the mirror he inspected his face, smiling cutely at his freckles and quickly applying some lipgloss before fixing his hair and heading out the door. Every morning he looked in the close by bushes for berries to make his breakfast. He’s surprised when he sees the handsome man again. He was stood by the bush that Felix goes to, carefully picking the sweet fruits and placing them in a bowl.
‘Wow this human really is weird.’ Felix thought to himself . He has never heard of humans picking berries this early in the morning especially not this deep in the forest. He wanted desperately to know more. It wouldn’t hurt him to follow him right? He wouldn’t go too far. He would just follow him to the entrance of the forest.
He continued to watch the orange haired man from a shorter distance this time. He made sure he was still hidden but this time he could see his features better. On his face there were little freckles scattered around. No where near as many as Felix had but still equally charming.
When the human had finished collecting berries he began to walk along the path home. Not knowing of the little fairy that was following.
A small gasp left Felix’s lips when they arrived at a cottage not far from his own home.
Wow the human lives in the forest?
Maybe…. Maybe it couldn’t hurt to go inside. He wouldn’t stay long he would just study the man a little more.
He followed him through the door taking in the room around him.
It was decorated beautifully. Shades of cream and wood brown made the house feel warm.
He fluttered over to the open kitchen landing on a countertop filled with fresh fruits and he hid behind an apple, peaking out at the man who was looking around his kitchen.
Without any warning the man brought a large hand to grab the apple making the little fairy freeze in terror.
“Oh…um hello.”
The man seemed confused seeing the tiny figure on his counter but he spoke softly.
Felix opened his mouth but he couldn’t reply. Was he going to hurt him?
“Hey hey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. It’s okay I won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”
“I’m Felix.” He spoke timidly.
The large man flashed a bright smile at the fairy, offering a finger for him to shake with his tiny hand.
“Well it’s nice to meet you Felix, I’m Chan. How did you get in my house tho?”
Felix blushed red at the question. How was he going to explain that he had been following him ever since he saw him yesterday? He hung his head in shame.
“I- I followed you home. I didn’t mean to! I just haven’t seen a human around here so I was curious- I promise I’m not weird or anything.”
He rushed to justify his actions making Chan chuckle.
“It’s okay it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Wow, I never expected to see a pretty fairy in my house today.”
Felix’s heart skipped… ‘pretty’? He thought he was pretty.
“Well I never expected to see a handsome human picking berries from MY bush this morning.”
He playfully teased the man, flying up so that they were face to face.
“So that was your bush huh? No wonder the berries taste so sweet.”
He smirked shooting the freckled fairy a wink making his heart swoon.
Felix stuttered trying to think of a witty response but his brain had shut off completely.
“Anyway Felix. I have to head out again but I’ll be back soon. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. It would be fun to get to know you.”
He walked towards the door giving a small wave as he left.
What the fuck…
Felix was actually in his home… he spoke to him… and they were…friends?
It was too much for the little fairy to process. He needed to rest.
He fluttered around the house searching for Chan’s bedroom so he could lay down.
When he reached the room he was surprised by the size of the bed. It was truly huge.
The pillows smelt like him . Sweet with slight musk.
He drifted slowly into a peaceful sleep.
~
“Mmh please r-right there.” Felix moaned out when he felt Chan’s fingers hit just the right spot.
He incoherently blabbered as each thrust made him come more and more undone.
“You like that hm? Little pretty fairy likes my fingers inside him?”
Lust dripped from the humans voice making Felix blush.
“F fuck I love it so much.”
~
Chan stood in the doorway shocked, watching the scene in front of him. The tiny fairy was lay on his bed slowly palming at his length in his sleep.
Soft whimpers left his lips and his wings twitched with pleasure.
He could feel his trousers begin to get uncomfortably tight and he bit down hard on his lip to control himself.
He should leave. He knew he should but he was drawn to the fairy.
“Ch Chan your cock mmh.”
Felix moaned out in his sleep, his grinding getting faster.
When Chan heard his name he couldn’t take it anymore.
He walked over to the bed carefully sitting down and he lightly shook the Fairy with a gentle finger.
His eyes fluttered open and when he saw the human his face burned red as he recalled the events of his dream.
“You aren’t exactly a quiet sleeper.” The orange haired man chuckled.
“I uh … what do you mean by that?” Felix panicked. This couldn’t get any worse right?
“I never knew a pretty little fairy like you would be so slutty.”
Chan smirked as he began to lightly trace the patterns on Felix’s wings, making little desperate whines leave his parted lips.
“You like that hm? Does it feel good when I touch your wings like this?”
He Changed the direction of his fingers making the fairy gasp.
“P please Chan.”
Felix didn’t even know what he was begging for at this point. He just needed more.
“Use your words darling. What is it you want?”
“Fuck I need your cock please channie.”
Any embarrassment Felix felt was now long gone. All that clouded his mind was lust.
The two stripped them self’s from clothing and Felix looked in awe at the size of Chan’s cock.
It was huge … even bigger than Felix’s entire body. The tip was tinted pink and pre cum was smeared around the slit while pretty veins decorated it.
He brought a hand to slowly run along one of the veins making the human let out a shaky breath. It was almost pathetic how tiny Felix looked next to his cock alone.
“You are so big Channie.” His eyes glowed with want and his mouth salivated at the thought of the pleasure it could give him.
“Hands and knees darling. Let me prep you.”
The fairy did as he was told. He spread his cheeks apart giving Chan a clear view of his little pink hole.
He felt a slick finger rub against it. Teasing him and making him wet.
“So tiny. How is my cock going to fit in here hm? Have you had anything in here before?”
The question made Felix burn up.
“J just my fingers.”
A Yelp left his lips as he felt the finger enter him. Fuck the way it filled him up made him feel as if he was in heaven. He pressed back trying to feel it deeper inside him.
“Someone’s eager. Such a slutty little fairy. All mine to play with.”
He moved his finger faster making the fairy scream out .
“Ch chan I fuck if you keep doing that I’m g gonna cum.”
“Tsk I suppose we better get you on my cock then. I’m not going to miss the opportunity to fill that pretty little hole with my cum.”
The words made Felix shudder. He fluttered over to the mans cock and lined it up with his stretched hole before sinking down, a loud whimper leaving his lips as he felt the head buried inside him.
That’s all he could fit in his tiny little hole.
Chan’s fingers grasped carefully onto the fairy’s hips as he rocked into him.
“F fuck it feels so good. S so big.”
Felix blabbered as he lost himself in the pleasure.
“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock like this darling. So fucked out and pretty. I bet you wish you could fit more inside that slutty little body of yours.”
Felix couldn’t even take in the words being spoken to him. He was too focused on the feeling of Chan twitching inside him. He felt a warm feeling in his stomach and he clenched around the humans cock.
“Going to cum already? How pathetic that my cock makes you come undone so quickly. It’s okay, let go for me my little fairy.”
With those words Felix felt his body begin to spasm and his tiny cock release strings of white. But it wasn’t over yet.
Chan continued to fuck into him, chasing his own high. The feeling was making Felix go crazy. His body shook with overstimulation and he felt like he was going to cum again.
A strangled cry left his lips as his cock released more liquid but this time it wasn’t a milky white. When he realised what he was done he burned with embarrassment.
“Did my little fairy piss himself hm ? Couldn’t hold it until I was done with you.”
Chan began to rock into Felix even harder. He felt his stomach knot up and a low groan left his lips as he released into the fairy.
After catching their breath the human pulled out, admiring the mess he had made of the fairy.
“You look so pretty like that. My cum leaking out of your pretty hole and down your little thighs. Covered in your own piss. Such a slutty little mess.”
Felix whimpered at the words.
“Fuck that was amazing.”
He was almost in disbelief how good it felt.
It was like a flip switched and Chan was back in full caring mode.
He placed a gentle kiss onto the fairy’s cheek.
“I’m glad you felt good darling. How about I clean you up hm? We can watch a movie after too if you’d like? I’d love to get to know you more.”
Felix’s lips curved up into a little smile.
“That sounds great channie!”
Perhaps humans weren’t so bad after all.
In fact Maybe Felix was in love with one.
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eremiie · 3 years
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one — love confessions
❥ your actions have consequences. eren wants more with you but his motivation is unclear. there one thing you’re sure of though, eren jaeger is relentless.
❥ wattpad link ; ao3 link ; masterlist
❥ prologue ; chapter two
❥ word count ; 7k words
❥ content ; mentions of alcohol, alcohol usage
huge thanks to @arlert-slut for beta reading my work, she was a big help, ily callie!!!!
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❝ it’s delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you’d find at a corner store— and what doesn’t help us the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you kick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face. ❞
                                       彡
kisses were peppered on your face, threatening to stir you out of your sleep, and you knew who the culprit was, their hand sliding over the slope of your body and murmuring into your ear— words that were incomprehensible in your sleepy haze. 
"get up, it's time to wake up."
the past few mornings since your return from carla's had been a nuisance for you to get used to, but you were getting used to it. you were getting used to eren shaking you up early in the mornings to propose an activity for when you'd awake, and you were getting used to other things as well, like the more intimate touches he'd lay on you and the subtle nicknames. 
you were getting used to your situation with him after the events of the weekend prior.
the weekend prior; you spent your nights with eren at carla's, and he insisted that you go with him to a party at a nearby bar. you didn't mind and so you let him take you along, only for the two of you leave early after a more than inconvenient mishap. 
it was irritating at most, always having to be the one to drag eren away when he got more than comfortable, always having to talk to him about it only to see him make no effort to change. but for some reason something clicked in his brain that night and you ended up tangled in his sheets, a lazy love confession muttered in your ears when you were pressed against his front. a lazy love confession that you were partially swayed by.
you and eren didn't talk much about it, after leaving his mom's the two of you decided to leave it in the air. after all, there wasn't much to talk about that hadn’t already said. eren would try to do his part to win you over, and you'd just sit back and observe. the two of you went on just like you were before, as a matter of fact how you went on was almost too similar to how everything was before, yet at the same time somewhat foreign when you thought about the "other things".
the other things; the nicknames and the touches. you weren't too fond of them— maybe because you weren't his yet, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to shy away from them. they were comforting, they were something new to you, and you'd learn to appreciate them over time. 
it was funny because it was only eren who you’d let do these more than friendly touches even before what happened last weekend, and it was you who enjoyed the whole aspect of it. you were more prone to friendships as opposed to relationships. you never liked them much because you found yourself on a pedestal compared to others. no one could catch your attention, no one was good enough or worth your time, yet eren seemed to build his own pedestal and sit right beside you, and for that he was special.
 it was only eren who was able to do that, and only eren you were able to open up your heart to. you'd only hope he wouldn't screw it over for himself, and maybe for you too.
apart from getting used to your new situation with eren, you were getting used to letting go of things too, namely spending your mornings with someone else— spending your mornings with historia.
it didn't pain you much— you and historia had a friendship of pleasure, words by aristotle; she was good company for you in the mornings after class and when you needed socializing at events. 
maybe you'd blame it on the break you were on, after all, you'd walk out of your first class together. since there weren't any classes 'till next week, that could very well be the reason why you weren’t seeing her. although you knew even when they would start up again it wouldn't be historia who'd be offering you a piece of her breakfast, spritzing her floral perfume over her body for the nth time, or keeping you awake with her tangents, it'd be eren. 
plus, you were saving yourself from the awkward encounter, considering that night when she let her drink plague the front of eren's shirt, and considering the fact that that morning you had just told her to let eren be, that he was a player, that what may be fun for her was only a fling for him. yet you ended up in her exact position, letting eren sweep you off your feet and into his bed. that would linger on your mind when you saw her, and the more you thought about it the less fair it was to her,
but it wasn't your fault, right?
"c'mon get up, it's almost eleven." eren's hand slid back up to shake your shoulder before his fingers made their way up to your eyelid, pulling it up. you smacked his hand down, a groan leaving your lips as you turned in your covers.
"eren," you pulled the soft fabric of the blanket over your head and began to blink underneath them, eyes adjusting to the small gleam of light that was let through the thick fabric. "what is your problem?"
he huffs and you feel his weight dip the bed some as he falls backwards on it, his head resting against your legs. he reciprocates your groan, seemingly more irritated, as if you were the one to disturb his sleep. "my problem is that you won't get up." 
"you said it's eleven eren, eleven." your voice is groggy and you can feel the swell of your face, rubbing at your features before you tugged the blanket from over your head. eren perks up at the sound of the fabric rustling, and he rises, happy to see your face, that same radiant smile you're used to seeing every morning greeting you.
"i always wake you up earlier than this," he shuffles back on the bed and lays his head down against your stomach and although he can feel you glaring at him from above, he still gets as comfortable as possible. it's then that you realize he's already ready for the day, clad in clothes different from what he went to sleep in, a shirt, and some sweats. "'wanted to get something to eat with you."
you feel the guilt curdle in your stomach, his attire tells you he's been up for a while now. he must've let you sleep in a bit longer than usual because he was right, he would wake you up earlier than this and the two of you would get ready together. your mouth downturns into a small frown and your hand comes down to caress his brown locks, almost like a form of an apology. he accepts it, green eyes fluttering shut at your touch. "i'm not that hungry."
"than something to drink? we can go to that smoothie bar nearby."
"we're not using zeke's car again." you knew eren wouldn't let up, and a part of you tells you that you owe him this as a return for the extra hours you were able to catch. you were just talking to talk, you'd end up going with him anyway, you ended up going with him every day.
you can feel eren smile against the fabric of your top, a low chuckle that was barely audible leaving his lips, and it made you smile too. "we'll walk."
it doesn't take you long to get ready, and it doesn't take long for the two of you to be on your way either. you were hand in hand with eren, a small silence looming over the two of you if you didn't count the aimless comments he'd throw here and there that you tried your best to engage with.
it was nothing but you, eren, and the small breeze that tried to sweep the loose pieces of hair around his face away, his hand occasionally coming up to move them out of his line of sight while the two of you walked before immediately connecting with yours again.
it felt nice, it was tranquilizing even and not much was with eren. it was times like this that didn't make you regret having him pull you into his bed on that hectic evening, having him pull you out of bed every morning, and you especially didn't regret it when you caught sight of the glass windows of the bar, chairs and tables still visible through the tinted glass.
his hand drops from yours. it feels empty again and cold when you grab the steel handle of the door. you can feel the wind of eren striding past you and the door shuts faster than you expected. the thud of it closing behind you, almost shutting you in, made you flinch. you turned to look back at it before turning to see eren more than a few steps ahead of you already. 
you furrow your brows and let your feet pick up the pace to catch up to him and you don't even realize the way your hand stretches out for eren to grab it again. he doesn't, keeping his hands in his pocket as he walks, but you couldn't blame him— he wasn't even looking down at your outstretched limb, his eyes surveying the bar. 
you roll your eyes at yourself. your subconscious attempt was feeble anyways. it was no big deal— and so you shove your hand back into the pocket of your jacket, fingers playing with each other inside the fabric.
 the two of you round the corner of the divider placed in the middle of the store. you reckoned it was to give customers who were eating more privacy, and once you got around it your eyes immediately look up to take a glimpse at the menu while your feet come to a halt in line.
eren leans down a bit, "what are you gonna get?"
you shrug your shoulders. you didn't put much thought into it, too in the moment of the walk you were on earlier to consider that you'd actually need to order something when you arrived. eren on the other hand seemed to know what he wanted, staring ahead at the cashier instead of the menu. perhaps he'd been here before.
the line begins to move and you and eren diverge from it, stepping over to one of the open cash registers. 
"hey, what can i get for you today?" the girl has a kind smile on her face that eren tosses back. she glances between eren, then you, then eren again while her finger hovers over the pad of the register. 
he answers before you, letting you take your time to decide what you'll want, you continuing to skim the contents of the menu. "hey, uh," his tongue slides over his bottom lip as he leans forward on the counter, hands hugging the end of it to stable himself while he passes some of his weight forward. "can i get the strawberry pineapple smoothie? can you replace the coconut water with um, orange juice?" 
it’s then that you notice the ash orange of her hair, the way it curled against the frame of her face and complimented the hazel of her eyes that were trained on the boy next to you, listening to him talk while she occasionally nodded her head, punching numbers into the register. "of course you can, pretty."
"that's all you— thanks, carly." you couldn't recall her saying her name, so your gaze travels down to her shirt, body relaxing when you see the name tag pinned to the cloth of her uniform. you shift your weight from one leg to the other, eye flicking back up to her face before eren taps your shoulder, making you look towards him instead.
"_____?" it's your name he says next and he must've had to say it more than once, the slight downturn of his lips tells you so. "what do you want to get?" his tone is different from earlier, and the smile you could hear in his voice when he was ordering wasn't there anymore— but most people put on a cheery persona when addressing an employee. it was more or less natural.
"i'll get what he's getting." you didn't really hear much of eren's order, clearly focused on all except, but you didn't have time to ponder on a stupid smoothie. she punches up your order as eren pulls out his wallet, you not daring to take out your own, hands still sitting idle in your pockets. he slips out a crumpled twenty dollar bill, attempting to smooth it out before handing it to the girl.
you and eren step off to the side, not having to wait very long for your drinks. when eren heads over to grab them from the same brassy orange-blonde, giving her a polite "thank you," and her responding with an "anytime, come back soon!", your phone vibrates in the back pocket of your jeans and you avert your attention from the two by slipping the device out. 
it's pieck, her caller id sitting above the "home". you don't hesitate to swipe your finger across the screen to answer. 
seeing her name made you remember the night at the bar once more, you and pieck enlightening each other with easy conversation, eren being the topic, and you’re reminded to update her about the fiasco that had you slip away from her for longer than you expected.
your mental note to call her clearly was washed away by other intruding thoughts, and the same feeling of guilt from earlier when you were laying with eren returned— she shouldn't have been the one to call you.
you lift your phone up, the glass of the screen was cold as you pressed it against your ear. "hey, i'm sorry for not call—"
"my curiosity got the best of me." you can hear the lightheartedness in her tone, voice soft as it flowed through the phone. it puts you at ease. "don't worry too much about it, i just needed to make sure you were alive after this weekend."
a smile plays on your face and you were almost oblivious to eren's sudden presence beside you, two identical pink drinks in his hand, one jutted out towards you for you to take. your hand wraps around the drink and you walk behind him, letting him open the door for you this time around, making your way out of the smoothie bar.
"i'm alive... what have you been up to?"
pieck chuckles from behind the screen. it's warm and pleasant. this time instead of you, eren and the breeze, it's you, pieck and the breeze. although, you were still aware of eren next to you and the side glances he was throwing your way— interest in every one of them. "that's the question i should be asking you, after all, you were the life of the party on friday."
"far from it, but if you'd like to know 'm fine. out with eren right now, he just took me to this little smoothie place not too far from campus."
she's silent for longer than a few seconds, as if she was processing something before she speaks up again. "eren? now you really have to tell me what you've been up to." her tone still has that hint of jest to it, keeping the conversation lighter than it would've been. 
eren's ears perk up at the muffled sound of his name and he once again turns his head your way, an eyebrow quirked at you that you pretended to ignore. "who are you talking to?"
you bring the smoothie up to your lips, using it to take more time to answer before letting your eyes slide over to eren. "just pieck, nosey." you were only half-joking and neither you or eren laugh at the comment. "not much is up if i'm being honest with you, but i can tell you about," you pause for a moment, brain scrambling to find a word that would make the topic you were discussing more vague. "...we can talk about everything when i get back to my dorm?"
"why don't you come over? yelena is here but i don't think she'll mind." 
you had nothing planned for the remainder of the day, it wouldn't hurt to spend a few hours updating pieck. it was well deserved on her part— she'd been patient and hadn't even sent you a text ever since you'd last seen her at the party. not to mention she was a good friend and a wise person to chat with, her feedback would be nice to hear. "yeah that's cool, i'll text you."
"i'll be happy to see your face, have fun." 
the line cuts off before you could even give your goodbyes but you brush it off and slip your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans, sipping at the almost forgotten smoothie that was dripping against your fingers. eren pulls your now free hand into his own, and it's like he's trying to recreate the moment before the bar, swinging your hands back and forth while the same silence dawns on both of you.
it's a little more stiff, a little too quiet, but it didn't matter because before you knew it you were walking up the steps to your shared dorm and eren's scanning the keycard so you and him could slip inside the warmth of the room.
you don't waste any time placing your cup down and shimmying out of your jeans, replacing them with sweats instead while eren just watches from the seat he takes on his bed. his eyebrows are knit from observing you hastily move around the small dorm. "where are you going?" it was question after question, but it wasn't anything new— he was always eager to know what you were up to, to try and keep an eye out for you and to try and keep up to date with you. when it wasn't a little vexatious, it was actually quite endearing.
you finish the remnants of your drink, plopping the cup into the trash and picking up your phone on your way to the door. "to pieck's dorm, i'll be back later."
eren stands up, following your route of throwing his empty cup into the trash then heading over to you, stopping right in front of your figure and making you tilt your head upward to get a better view of him. "that's what the two of you were talking about?"
he's in close proximity— you could count all the wrinkles on his shirt if you wanted to, or every eyelash that curved downwards above his eyes. "...i guess."
"i wanted you to come with me to reiner's in a few hours, sasha and them were gonna be there."
you recalled seeing sasha on friday, how she beamed being in your presence and how excited she was to see you— telling you that the two of you needed to hang out more, and although now would've been a great opportunity, you had plans. 
you sighed. albeit you never minded hanging out with your friends, maintaining them was a little harder than usual. "for one, i don't know who reiner is, and second of all, i have somewhere to be; i'll just text her when i get back." you'd hope you'd be able to stay true to your word, as you weren't able to do so with pieck. 
in the midst of you turning to grab the handle of the door, eren's hands come up to cup your jaw, palms resting against the supple skin of your face, and you roll your eyes before looking down to the ground.
his affectious demeanor was present again as he pulled you closer and pouted at you while his thumb caressed your cheek. "m'gonna miss you, you'll probably be asleep when i come back."
your own hand comes up to grab at his wrist, but you can't bring yourself to try and pull his hand away. instead, you find yourself rubbing at the tan skin, still not maintaining eye contact. "and that's fine, tomorrow's another day, i need to go." your words are somewhat bitter, but eren doesn't catch on.
he presses a testing kiss to your forehead, looking down at you before tilting your head up more and pressing a gentle one to your lips.
it's delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you'd find at a corner store— and what doesn't help is the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you lick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face. 
even though you could feel your cheeks burning, you still felt cold without his skin being in contact with yours. "text me when you get back." he says when you're stepping out the door, and you mutter a "we'll see," that you couldn't tell if he heard or not, not that it mattered much to you.
the walk to pieck's dorm feels shorter than usual, and you're not sure whether to blame it on the fact that you were getting used to the route, or on the fact that you were clouded in your own thoughts. either way, you're knocking a melody on her door in no time, and you're greeted by yelena looming over you, a neutral expression on her face.
"yelena," she nods her head at you but doesn't say anything back, only sidestepping to let you in, the person you wanted to see lying on her side against her bed, casting a lazy smile at the sight of you.
"______, long time no see?" pieck doesn't make an effort to sit up, only scooting backwards to create a space for you to sit at, and you let yelena pass you to get back to her desk before walking over to pieck.
"it's barely been a week," you saunter over to her bed, balancing your foot on one of the boxes that platforms her bed to climb up onto it. "you saw me just last friday." 
"and i was supposed to see or hear from you earlier than today." she's still holding her smile as she speaks, tilting her head towards you and raising a brow. "nevertheless, i'm glad you're here now." she truly was— despite you being a year under her, appreciative of your company. to her it was like having a little sister to look after, she felt like she was constantly watching you from the distance— and you felt like she was always there when you needed a bit of advice.
"and i'm glad to see you, how're your friends doing?"
she shakes her head at you but she answers your question anyways, "zeke, is being zeke— off dilly dallying and being an english major, nothing new to him. if you couldn't tell yelena is over there doing some work, porco is doing well, colt’s good, we're all good." with the way she grins wider, you already know what the next topic of discussion would be, her eyes narrowing at you as she finally sits up, back falling into her surplus amount of pillows. "how're you and your friends?"
"well according to one of them they're all supposed to be gathered up in someone's dorm right now, a little get together i think." 
pieck's mouth parts and her eyebrows upturn. "and you've decided to sit here with me?"
"i told eren i didn't want to go, i wanted to spend time with you."
her hand comes up to her chest dramatically and she stares at you in awe, "i always knew you liked me more than the rest of them, apart from eren i suppose." your nose scrunches up at her, you knew it was coming. you knew she'd find a way to bring him up, she always found a way to make things go according to her. it was admirable— and fun to watch when you weren't the victim. "speaking of eren..." her words slide off her tongue tauntingly and you groan. she doesn't take the sound to heart. 
"here we go,"
"what? you said you'd update me. so what happened? my ears are open."
you pull your legs up onto the bed until you were sat criss-cross. "well, after we left he didn't tell me anything until we got back to his mom's," you can hear pieck adjusting herself, getting comfortable as if she was a giddy child and you were a veteran getting ready to tell an old war story. "what he told me was that he had said something to upset historia, and that's why she threw her drink on him— and i told him that he shouldn't have been fuckin' around in the first place."
pieck nods her head after every couple words and you use that as a cue to go on, "and he starts saying he's sorry and shit, i kind of started to feel bad and i reassured him that it wasn't that big of deal, just that he needs to be better, you know?"
"i know."
your voice gets quiet at your next words, and your back slouches. the pads of your fingers tap against each other when you start to speak again. "and after that... after that, i don't really know how it happened but we kissed, and then he took me to his room and... and we had sex," the nearer your sentence came to an end the less audible it was.
"excuse me?" pieck leans in, and you can see her blink once, twice, and then a third time as she raises her nimble fingers to move stray ebony locks behind her ear until the appendage was visible to you, and you almost snort at the gesture. "the last part, i'm not sure i heard it well."
"you did." your hand lightly shoves her head away and it's quiet for a minute, only the taps of yelena's fingers against the keyboard and the birds chirping just outside the window of her dorm. "we fucked." and even though you knew she heard you the first time around, you repeat it. more so to yourself, like you were confirming the events and making sure they were true to what actually happened.
pieck settles against her pillows again but she doesn't look surprised. it's amusement that dances across her features and it's... satisfaction? she lets out a small sigh of content, as she closes her eyes and lets her head rest against the pile behind her. "mhm, that's what i thought."
it's you who's taken aback, her demeanor so calm that it's almost unsettling. "what?" 
"well something happened that night, right? c'mon the way zeke's brother acts around you alludes to something. how he watches you, he's very touchy with you, i'm surprised you didn't figure it out earlier." she doesn't mention how you'd reciprocate every touch regardless of the matter and would watch him in the same manner, maybe just from a farther distance. "he's the candidate i mentioned."
your words feel stuck in your throat and even if you could speak properly you weren't sure what you would say. you'd hope it was only pieck who was this observant, this alert when it came to those around her, otherwise the displays of affection would have to become a private thing; it was almost embarrassing knowing people could see you unknowingly gush over eren in plain sight.
when you don't respond immediately, pieck does instead, and her question flows out of her so easily that it’s as if she was patiently waiting to ask. "what about the blondie?" you were sure pieck remembered her name by now. maybe the nickname was more pleasant on her tongue.
"what about historia?" 
"what about when she finds out about you and eren?"
pieck saw things full circle, she rummaged every corner and crack for possibilities, what ifs, and what abouts, and it made you think harder— even when you didn't think you needed to ponder too much on what she'd make you reflect on.
the quality was endearing when you'd skip a step or two during a math problem, or when you didn't consider the hangover of a party overlapping with a test you'd have to take the next day. however, it wasn't so endearing when you were trying to just get through an exam, or when she made a simple problem more elaborate than it had to be.
"well, i told her not to fuck with eren— i can't help it if he likes me or not." you rub the back of your neck while staring off into the corner of pieck's dorm. "eren will tell her anyways."
"and if he doesn't?" both you and pieck's head whiz towards yelena and you realize the sound of her fingers clacking against the keys of the laptop cease to exist. her slender arm is hung over the back of the chair and her legs are crossed at the ankle. you can't read her doe eyes, not sure if she was genuinely interested in the conversation or if her ears only decided to listen for the remainder of it out of boredom— but you knew she heard the last sentence either way. "it's your job to inform her, after all you seemed closer to her than eren."
"yeah but it's eren who needs to cut her off, so he should tell her then." 
pieck pats the bed in front of her, stealing both you and yelena's attention with the smallest gesture. "what about talking to blondie? giving her a letdown and letting her know what's going on between you and eren? i mean, you and eren aren’t dating yet, right?"
your eyes meet pieck and you speak lowly, slow and careful. "no..." a brow is arched above your eye; you weren't sure what she was getting at. "but that's what he's trying to do. i wasn't just g'nna... throw myself at him that night," you cup your jaw with your hands, placement just like eren's earlier and your face twists into a lovesick expression, lip jutting out and eyebrows turned upwards. "oh, eren yes i'll be yours!" 
pieck chuckles at your sarcastic tone and shakes her head. "i didn't say all that now, i'm glad you didn't..." her hand waves around your face in a circular motion, "do that."
"yeah, 'm not stupid,"
"i know, i know, my point was just that you need to be wary of your circumstances, _____." her words are darker and she gives you a motherly expression, almost as if she was scolding you. her finger pointing towards your figure didn't help to dull that feeling. "you need to be the one to talk to historia and you need to set your boundaries with eren. be mindful of the predicament you're in, it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks."
"and don't be upset if the old dog can't learn them." yelena doesn't fail to add on, before spinning her chair back towards the desk in front of her, seemingly uninterested in the conversation already, the jaded look that she gives you telling you enough.
you don't respond but pieck knows the gears are turning in your head by the way your eyes cloud over and the way you stare a little too long at the photo of her and porco pinned up against her side of the dorm.. if she asked you to tell her the color shirt she was wearing in it while closing your eyes, she was sure you'd be able to give her that and more.
but she lets you ponder and she knows it's a good chance you won't heed her advice. 
you were independent for the most part and you seemed to have things under control when they needed to be— that included having eren under control. so why would you need someone like pieck to tell you to take your brain out of autopilot for a few seconds and be wary of eren?
as far as you knew, from the ache of his words that night in the laundry room, the way he held onto you as if you could slip out of his grip any second; he wanted you and he wanted you bad. it wouldn't be your feelings hurt if he tripped over his own feet— it'd be his loss and he should know you wouldn't be one to try and pick him back up again.
that wasn't the kind of person you were, it never was— it was eren who'd have to change, not you, no matter how small the transition. 
but you knew you wouldn't have to worry about that anyways, it was your subconscious plaguing you.
“my mom would kill me if i played you anyways.”
those were his words that night and they'd linger in the back of your mind. they were a constant reminder to you that what was happening wasn't imaginative, and you'd reckon he'd stick by them.
                                     彡彡彡
nothing feels better than toeing out of your shoes and slipping them under your bed for a later occasion. you had talked with pieck longer than expected, arriving back to your dorm a few hours before midnight, yet eren still wasn't back as you expected.
you slipped out of the attire you'd been walking around in all day and went to the bathrooms to take a shower. it was a quick one, the water temperature more on the warm side then you'd like, but it was nothing you could control.
you found yourself skimming the contents of eren's clothes when you headed over to the closet for pajamas to sleep in, plucking one of his shirts from the hangers. 
don't think too far ahead, it was just the feeling of the fabric clinging to your skin while being a few sizes too big. how it fell around your body and covered you just enough so you wouldn't have to wear sleep shorts that you always ended up kicking off in the middle of the night. 
it felt safe and you'd grown to like the feeling ever since eren slipped one of his shirts over your head when you were barely able to get up.
you crawl into your bed but you knew sleep wouldn't greet you for an hour or so. knowing eren wasn't in the bed across from you stirred your stomach, so you grabbed your phone that was still on its charger and opened youtube; it'd be a clever distraction for the time being.
you weren't sure how long you'd been scrolling through pointless videos, clicking one that’s thumbnail sparked your interest and watching it for as long as you could muster then swiping down to the recommended to repeat the process. 
however long it was, it made your eyes grow weak, weight pulling down your lids and particularly loud segments from each video making your eyes snap back open, the cycle continuing.
it's one noise that makes you jump out of the grasp of sleep— and it's not the sound from the video playing in front of you, it's the noise of the handle of the door jiggling. your eyes move over to watch the brass handle shake up and down with vigor, as if the person on the other side was trying to break in.
it's the curse of breath that calms your nerves, the small "shit," coming from the other side sounding all too familiar even with your body struggling to stay awake. 
a small smile tugs on your lips at eren's attempts to open the door, but you make no efforts to get up. you're more than overjoyed when you hear the sound of a keycard being used at the door, it finally swinging open a little harder than you expected, eren bending down to pick up the card he seemingly dropped. 
he stumbles when he stands, grabbing the door. you're not sure if it was to close it or steady himself, but his gaze is trained on you the whole time when he shuts it, back pressed against the wood when it is completely closed, his frame only standing there for a few seconds before he giggles.
"______."
his words are slurred and he bumps into the end of his bed when he begins making his way over to you. the goofy way your name leaves his lips still makes your heart skip a beat and your hand slides your phone over, arms open for him. "eren."
although you've seen his face more times than you can count, it’s still refreshing to see it for a split second in the dim moonlight that shines on the side of his face as he passes the window. his hair is more tousled than you remember and his eyes are half lidded— but in a way that makes it seem like he was trying to make them as wide as possible. you can't help but shake your head as he crawls into your bed slowly, lifting the covers for him so he can slide in. 
"______... you're awake." he hums when you drape the covers over both his and your body. he makes himself a home between your legs, head falling to your chest and his arms to his sides as hands scrunch into fists.
"i'm awake." he's hot to the touch and he makes you warmer than you were before, makes you stare at him in awe and caress his hair again, taming the stray locks on the top of his head.
"_______," you can smell the alcohol on his breath as well as a floral scent and the smell of sweat that littered his body. it's not off putting enough for you to want to tell him to "get up," and to "go sleep in your own bed." but you'd make a mental note to remind him to shower in the morning— not that he wouldn't take one without your reminder.
"yes, eren?"
eren scoots up more until his head is leveled with yours. his weight is heavy but soothing and you press yourself against him more, able to feel every rise and fall of his chest, every beat of his heart, and every exhale of his breath onto your cheek. "i love you."
you've heard it before more times than you could count. you were his childhood friend, it was so natural but you knew it meant more this time. yet, you couldn't scratch the fact that he was drunk and his words could be empty. you could wake up tomorrow and be the only one who would remember what he said. "yeah i know, eren."
he whimpers and his lips press to your cheek, it's elongated and hard, but when he's done he doesn't move them, letting his mouth rest against your skin.
when you don't reciprocate his fingers come up to turn your head towards him and he’s pressed his lips against yours this time. it's slow and sensual and you melt into the meager kiss. the taste of beer that lingers on eren's tongue is not enough for you to pull away, and the way eren kisses you sloppily and lazily isn't a bother either. 
he groans and the vibrations can be felt where your body was up against his. his lips are slightly dry and it compliments the soft feel of yours that he can't seem to get enough of, his lips trapping your bottom one and him pulling back before doing the same with the top. 
eren's thumb rubs against the skin of your tragus, every back and forth motion making the skin under it tingle. he uses the grip he has on your face to pull you in further and let his teeth graze your lower lip. you're so caught up in the moment, but the buzz of his phone in the pocket of his sweats that sagged against your thigh makes you jolt and pull away for a second.
he tries to bring your lips together again but you remember that he's drunk and both of you need sleep, especially eren if anything. "eren," you breathe, and he murmurs a "hm?" against the skin of your jaw that he was kissing, trailing back up to peck kisses to the corners of your lips.
"let's go to sleep."
"but i love you," he's whiney, a hand sliding down to bring you impossibly closer, pulling you by the small of your back. you sigh, your palms pushing off his chest to put some distance between the two of you that even you didn't want there. but the brunette was too handsy and you were only following your brain, not your heart.  
your hand slips into the pocket of his sweats and you grab his phone, body flipping over to unplug yours and plug his in. 
it vibrates once to signify that it was being charged, then twice to signify another incoming text message and the phone screen lights up, your eyes skimming the screen without thinking.
under every contact name was the words imessage, all his notifications including messages hidden from the lock screen. 
you read the name armin, the text from the boy being the one that lit up eren's phone screen in your face, sasha, a text from her more than several hours ago, and an unsaved number that started with 760, the number having texted a couple minutes ago. you assumed it must've been the one that buzzed when eren was against you.
his phone screen goes dark and you place it down onto the bed, your phone beside it before pulling the covers more over you and not turning around towards eren. you were afraid he'd pester you again. you could feel his abdomen up against your back, arm slung over your midsection that he must've threw while you were plugging in his phone. 
you can hear him snoring against your back and you could laugh at how fast he fell asleep, silently wishing that had been you hours ago. you scoot back against him more and close your eyes, the darkness replacing the pretty moonlight that the crooked blinds of your window let in.
"i love you too."
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sour--disposition · 3 years
Text
Bad Girlfriend
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harry lewis x fem!reader
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@ketamineharry suggested a harry imagine based off of Anne-Marie’s Bad Girlfriend and voila
please check my pinned post for request/prompt info and my masterlist
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You cancel plans for me - I cancel ours on you - Say I'd be back early - I don't get in 'til 2 - You ask me where I've been - I tell you something vague - Think I messed up again - What can I say
You were sick and tired of Harry and his behaviour. When you first got together, you chalked his actions up to being young and dumb. And then to getting used to having more money. Then you blamed it on having to deal with so much at such a young age. 
The excuses piled up, one on top of the other. You knew one day it would all come toppling down around you, drowning you and Harry in a sea of problems that you doubted you’d be able to survive. You’d excused cheating, been by his side during hangovers from hell and comedowns that took too long to make Harry realise that the high really wasn’t worth the pain. You’d rubbed his back and handed him bottles of water and paracetamol and nursed him back to health, only for him to go and get in the same state the next weekend and expect you to help him gather the pieces back together again.
You’d tried to patch things up. Every time that you went to Harry to air all your concerns, tell him that if he doesn’t get his act together that you’d leave, and he always promised that things would be better this time. But something would always happen. There’d be plans he’d forget or cancel. He’d get too drunk and end up with hands over another girl’s body. 
“Ooh, you look nice”, Harry commented as soon as you answered his FaceTime call. “What are you doing?”, he asked you.
“I’m off out with some girls from uni tonight”, you told him as you stood up from the sofa and started gathering your things together.
“I thought you were coming over?”, he said, a small pout forming on his lips.
“Sorry”, you said nonchalantly. “I’ll make it up to you, yeah”, you told him half-heartedly.
“Yeah, whatever”, Harry huffed. “Come back here after?”, he suggested.
“Sure”, you said, a small smile on your lips. “I’ve gotta go, their taxi just pulled up. Love you”, you rushed out, hanging up and shoving your phone into your clutch, along with your keys, card and some cash.
Harry 💕: where are you it’s 11?
Harry💕: y/n c’mon i miss you
Harry💕: am i waiting up for you or not?
Harry💕: its 2am
You didn’t read the texts until you were swaying on the spot in the lift of Harry’s apartment building. Your vision was fuzzy as you tried to find the right key for their front door. “Y/N?”, Harry asked, opening the door.
“Hey”, you slurred, stumbling towards him. “I couldn’t see your key”, you told him.
“Where’ve you even been?”, Harry asked, voice dripping with distaste and disappointment.
“Here, there, everywhere”, you giggled. 
“Come on, go to bed”, Harry said sternly. “I have a shoot tomorrow and Josh will kill me if I’m late or lacking”, he told you.
“Oh, I am so very sorry”, you drawled, exaggerating all of your words, much to your own amusement.
“I’m not being funny, Y/N. Go to bed or go home”, Harry said sharply.
Your face dropped, the small square inch of your brain that was yet to be drenched in vodka and whatever else you’d been drinking lit up with anger. “Fine”, you snapped. You stormed down the hallway, sure of your footing this time and not stumbling once.
“Where are you going?”, Harry called after you.
“Home!”, you shouted, wrenching the front door open and slamming it behind you as hard as you could.
You shivered in the cold, late night wind of London as you waited on the curbside for your taxi. As soon as the car pulled up, you slid into the backseat and rattled off your address. The street lights and neon signs of London passed by in a blur of alcohol and anger and regret. “Thanks. Keep the change”, you muttered, handing a note over to the driver and getting out of the taxi.
Once you’d got back into your apartment, you changed into some pyjamas and took your make-up off as quickly as possible. You crawled under the covers, pulling them around your body and getting comfy in the middle of your bed. 
Part of you felt a little guilty for how you’d treated Harry, but a bigger part of you couldn’t find the effort to care. You’d put up with Harry acting like this for 6 years, he could tolerate you doing it once or twice.
-
You wanna meet my friends - I say another day
“Another day, Harry”, you sighed, heavily, turning back to the work you were trying to get done for your classes.
“You always say that. You’ve been on this course for, like, a year”, Harry whined.
“I know but I really need to focus on work at the moment, Harry”, you told him. “I started my degree later than I wanted to anyway and then I didn’t commit to it like I should have last year because of…”, you trailed off.  “Another day”.
“Because of what?”, Harry asked, voice taking a combative edge as he sat up straighter.
“Harry, I don’t want to get into this again”, you sighed heavily, slumping into your chair.
“Well, you started it!”, he argued. “So finish your sentence. Go on!”, he goaded.
“I couldn’t commit to my degree because I was too busy looking after you!”, you shouted. “Is that what you wanted? Me to lash out? Fucking well done”, you spat. You gathered up your things as quick as you could, closing your book and shoving things into your bag.
“Where are you going now?”, Harry asked frustratedly.
“Home. I have an essay to do for next week”, you muttered as you shoved past Harry.
Things between you and Harry were only getting worse. You knew about the other girls, but the both of you just pretended that you didn’t. All of his friends saw Harry as some sheepish kid with a loud mouth girlfriend, but they never got to see the Harry that you were seeing more and more. The Harry that held things from years ago against you, the Harry that was becoming more controlling by the day, the Harry that would raise his voice when things went even slightly not his way… The Harry that wasn’t the same Harry that you fell in love with.
-
'Cause I'm one in a million - More like in a billion - I don't think it's cheating if I'm kissing other women - I do some shit you can't forgive - And you better get used to it
The more you and Harry argued, the more his friends didn’t like you. They hid it well, especially Simon and Josh since you were such good friends with Talia and Freya. But you noticed the side glances you’d get anytime you laughed a little louder than usual, any time you’d say something that would make Talia or Freya cackle. You’d notice the looks that they would send Harry when you had the audacity to go and dance and your own, or when you’d be on your phone whilst everyone else was fighting to keep you out of the conversation.
You had no doubt in your mind that Harry was telling them bare-faced lies about you and hiding the truth about himself. You knew that they had no clue about Harry’s cheating, about how bad his drinking and substance abuse had truly been, how much he actually relied on you for day to day functioning. All they knew was that you were loud, argumentative and didn't give Harry the time of day when it came to uni work.
“Do you think she knows she’s punching?”, you heard Ethan ask JJ.
“I mean, it’s so obvious. Harry’s miles out of her league. C’mon man!”, JJ laughed in reply.
You looked to Harry to see his reaction. You knew he’d heard what was said, but based on the look on his face, he couldn’t care less. You didn’t need the validation from your boyfriend’s best friends, but it would be nice if your boyfriend would at least defend you or reassure you.
You rolled your eyes and turned to leave the table, heading towards the toilets. You were facing the mirror, touching up your hair and make-up, when Freya and Talia walked in. “What happened?”, Talia asked.
You told them what you’d heard and watched as their faces contorted into looks of horror. “Oh my god!”, Freya exclaimed. “What did Harry say!?”, she asked, coming closer to hold you hand supportively.
Your silence answered their question perfectly. “I can’t believe him”, Talia huffed, wrapping her arms around you.
“Things haven’t been great, but I never thought he’d just sit and let his best friends slag me off practically to my face”, you told them. Your eyes were watery.
“Hey, babe. Don’t let your mascara run”, a dark haired girl told you, handing you a tissue. “Whoever is letting someone slag you off is stupid”, she assured you.
“My boyfriend”, you said sadly. 
“I hate boys”, she laughed darkly, rolling her eyes, before rejoining her group of friends.
You, Talia and Freya emerged from the toilets around 5 minutes later, once you were sure that your tears had dried and weren’t going to restart. The three of you walked towards the table, Freya and Talia immediately sliding next to Josh and Simon.
“Where’s Harry?”, you asked, not seeing him anywhere. Ethan gave you a look and pointed towards the dancefloor before turning back to his conversation with JJ and Vik.
You glanced over towards the dancefloor, hoping you’d see Harry. Thankfully, he was towards the edge, back turned towards you. You watched as he turned around, ready to try and grab his attention. His eyes met yours, briefly filling with panic, before darting back down to the girl in his arms.
“Fuck this”, you muttered, as Harry’s friends and Freya and Talia all watched as he tried to assess the situation and what to do.
He watched as you walked closer, looking ready to send the stranger away. Harry’s eyes followed you as you sailed past him and towards the middle of the dance floor. You could feel eyes on you as you began dancing to the music, letting the beat mix with the alcohol and take over your body.
“Did you sort things with your boyfriend?”, a female voice asked. It was the girl from the bathroom. You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully at her.
“No”, you snorted. “I came to speak to him and he was all over another girl”, you told her. Your eyes darted over to where you’d last seen Harry. “That’s him there, sucking face with the blonde”.
“I hope he’s your ex-boyfriend now”, she told you, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s complicated”, you admitted, looking down in shame. It wasn’t news to you that you were letting Harry treat you like a doormat, but you had yet to muster up the courage to leave him. Just as you looked up, ready to offer to explain it over a drink, someone behind you shoved you, sending you catapulting into the girl’s arms.
“Careful there, can’t have you falling for me already. I’ve not even started flirting yet”, she told you with a smirk. “Martha”, she said politely, holding out a hand.
“Y/N”, you told her with a shy smile as you accepted her outstretched hand.
“Care for a dance?”, Martha asked you, pulling you closer with the hand that was still in hers.
You didn’t care if Harry and his friends watched as your bodies rolled together. Harry had never danced with you on a night out like this, never held you shamelessly in a club for everyone to see. Harry had never held your face so securely as he pulled you in for a kiss in front of everyone around you.
“What the fuck, Y/N?”, you heard beside you.
“Is this the boyfriend?”, Martha asked once she’d pulled back and let her eyes flutter open, eyeing Ethan up and down as soon as she had.
“The boyfriend’s best friend”, you told her, preparing to step out of her hold.
“Last time I checked, the boyfriend was preoccupied with someone else. Get him to come and find me when he wants his girlfriend. We’ll be right here”, she said, voice powerful and allowing no argument as her arms held you closer.
Harry never came to find you. The two of you left the club in separate taxis and you left with a new number saved in your phone.
-
You should be with someone else - Someone who is not myself
“Harry, you deserve so much better”, you heard a voice say as you walked into Harry’s apartment. You walked down the hallway quietly, lingering just behind the door frame to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“We’ve been together for so long, though”, Harry sighed.
“Did you not see what she did the other night? She was all over some other chick!”, a voice, Simon’s, exclaimed.
“Maybe it was just a mistake, y’know”, Harry tried to reason.
“She’s not good for you, Harry”, JJ, this time, said.
You’d heard enough. You turned the corner, coming face to face with all 7 of the boys. “Y/N…”, Harry trailed off.
“No, no. Carry on talking about me, it’s fine”, you said, voice lathered in artificial sweetness.
“Damnit, Y/N, it wasn’t like that”, Harry snapped, surprising everyone but you. “What are you doing?”, he asked as you started gathering a blanket off of the back of the sofa and plucking a hoodie off of the back of a dining room chair..
“Getting my shit and going”, you hissed.
“You’re being dramatic”, Harry scolded.
“No, Harry. I’ve put up with your bullshit since we were 18. I’m sick and tired of it. I’ve put my life on hold for long enough. You need someone, but I’m not that someone anymore. I’m sick of looking after you and letting your friends hate me just because you’re too much of a coward to tell them the truth”, you spat.
“We know everything, Y/N”, Ethan said smugly, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.
“So you know that I started my degree late because I had to get Harry sober? You know that he’s cheated on me more times than I can count? You know that I’ve tried for 6 fucking years to get him to love me as much as I love him and it’s never fucking worked!?”, you all but yelled, shocking everyone in front of you.
“You think I don’t love you?”, Harry asked, voice frustrated and angry.
“I know that you don’t love me as much as I love you”, you told him simply. “You cancelled 3 anniversary dates to go on nights out with the guys. You made me cancel a weekend away because you wanted to go to Dubai. You get annoyed when I try to do my uni work. You let Ethan and JJ slag me off, practically to my face, and didn’t say a fucking word”, you told him.
You looked at Harry, waiting for a reaction. “Do you know how heartbreaking it is to hear my boyfriend’s best friends, people I’ve known for 6 years, say that I’m punching and that you deserve better? Did you think about how much it hurt me when you didn’t even flinch at what they said?”.
Harry’s face lit up in anger. “It’s not like you’ve been a good girlfriend!”, he spat.
“Because being a good girlfriend to you is like a full time job. It’s a full time job and I haven’t had a day off in over 5 years. So yeah, I’ve been a bad girlfriend… Boo fucking hoo”, you grumbled.
Harry remained silent, a sheepish look crossing his face. “We can try again”, he suggested quietly.
“We have! Over and over again!”, you exclaimed, tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. “I’m exhausted, Harry. I’m tired of looking after you when I’m just as hungover as you. I’m tired of not making plans because I literally can not afford for you to cancel on me anymore. You don’t value me or anything that I do. Your friends hate me and you don’t care. I’ve been your last priority for years and I’m sick of it. We’re done. I’ll put your stuff in a box and bring it round”, you told him, voice losing more and more strength as you spoke.
“Y/N…”, Harry tried, reaching for your arm.
“Don’t”.
495 notes · View notes
watermelonlipstick · 3 years
Text
Stabbed
This was written following an anon request that read as follows:
Hello sweetie, can I please request a dean x reader one shot in which she gets stabbed during a rough hunt and it's a race against time to save her (maybe Sam is the one driving and dean gets in the backseat with her?) And dean is scared of losing her and he has a panic attack after she wakes up but she manages to calm him down?
Obviously everyone’s experiences with panic attacks are different, but I tend to think if Dean had one it might manifest more externally as a violent outburst; I think he would subconsciously feel like it’s a more acceptable way to express ~freaking the fuck out~. This fic is sort of loosely set during early season 3, partly because that contextualization made sense to me with what you were describing and partly because I feel like that tenderhearted, slightly-less-jaded Dean would be more likely to allow himself to be perceived as vulnerable in such a fraught moment. 
I’ve also taken a couple liberties with the medical situation described for literary purposes. 😋 Don’t @ me, I know this isn’t exactly how hypovolemic shock plays out.
Title: Stabbed
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 4206
Summary: Dean’s anxiety gets the best of him when the reader appears fatally injured on a hunt, and is soothed only after the danger is gone. 
Warnings: canon-appropriate violence, description of panic attack, swearing
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           Sam slammed the door once Dean had hauled you into the backseat, propping you up like a mannequin next to him on the bench. Your vision was starting to fade in and out, but the sense memory of the muscles in Dean’s side and the leather seat underneath you were comforting anyway. It seemed like the car started flying before Sam had even closed the driver’s side door and you tried hard to focus on Dean’s babbling.
           “You’ll be able to give me shit about this one forever, right, kid? Should’ve listened to you, you said they would’ve left the barn by the time we got there. Always so smart, when am I going to learn?” He was trying to chuckle but it came out breathy and wrong, Dean never quite able to actually hit the casual affect he wanted in moments like this. Honestly, it made you more nervous, knowing that for injuries he wasn’t worried about he wanted to look over you with clinical precision, chastise you for being careless. He only did this pretend calm when he was trying to keep it together—you used to think it was only for you or Sam but after a few years and more than a few bad scares you started to understand it for the defense mechanism it truly was. Not that you needed extra evidence that this was bad; you could feel the life leeching out of you like a water balloon with a pinprick leak.
           “Hey, come on—open your eyes for me, lemme see those stunners,” he said, guiding your chin up where you had begun to slump onto his shoulder. “Perfect, yeah, just like that. Hey, stay with me—”
           You mustered up everything you had to swim to the surface of the sleep-darkness your body so desperately wanted and straightened your spine to take a deep breath. Bad idea, the wounds in your side feeling like they were splitting you clean in half even through the haze. At least it woke you up for a moment to catch Dean’s eyes, fiery with panic even as he tried to smile.
           “Dean, I—” you started, feeling like your throat was full of broken glass.
           “Babe, don’t try to talk, it’s okay, you can tell me whatever it is when we get to a hospital.”
           Sam turned his head away from the rural highway the Impala was absolutely sailing down to look back at his older brother. “We’re hours away from a hospital, we’ve gotta go back to the motel,” he said, low and serious.
           “If we’re hours away from a hospital then I guess we’re driving for a couple hours, aren’t we, Sammy?” Dean was getting worse and worse at covering the hard edge of fear-driven anger in his voice as the seconds ticked by.
           “Dean, we—she’s—we don’t have a couple hours.”
           Dean closed his eyes tight and set his jaw firm. “We’re going to a fucking hospital.”
           His brother swerved deftly around a giant pothole, somehow able to turn the wheel so slightly that the car’s path barely changed. “Listen to me. She can’t bleed like that for long enough to get to a hospital. We have to try to handle this one ourselves or there’s no chance—”
           The whole conversation felt like it was happening to someone else, your senses starting to detach from your body, and you couldn’t hold onto those trains of thought for long enough to process them. You were forced to expend all the energy you had on what you needed to say, and reached for Dean’s hand with a weak grip.
           “Dean, look at me.”
           He sounded like a hurt puppy when he said, “please,” and you knew he was asking you not to make him listen but you were worried you were out of options, out of time. That frantic smile looked almost crazed as it started to quiver on his face, eyelashes clumping with moisture.
           “Sam, can you hear me too?” you asked, frustrated in an abstract way at how frail your voice sounded.
           He gave one tight nod in the rearview mirror with a jaw set firm as iron, and when he said “Yes—yeah,” it was choked.
           “I love you idiots so much. These last—ow, Jesus—however many years have been some of the most fun I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t take it back for anything. Sam, I—you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I—fuck,” you winced, something about the breath you took to keep from crying sending an electric jolt of pain through you and doubling you over.
           “It’s okay, I know,” Sam said up into the rearview mirror, and you couldn’t tell if the way the headlights were falling on the trees impossibly fast was something about your sight being distorted, because if it wasn’t then you were surprised the Impala hadn’t broken some kind of land speed record. You made a mental note to tell Dean to start drag racing before remembering you might not tell him anything ever again. What you were nearly positive you weren’t imagining were the break in Sam’s voice or the reflection of tears on his cheek as he locked eyes with you in the mirror.
           By the grace of whatever higher power the Winchesters were on the good side of at the time, you connected with him in the reflection, were able to absorb some fraction of the bone-crushing, pick-you-up-off-your-feet hug you wanted so badly from Sam in that moment. You tried to be thankful for what you got and drifted back to Dean’s gaze.
           “And Dean, baby,” you continued, some bizarre flutter of second wind giving you enough force to clench your hand tightly around his and remember to keep your breaths shallow, keep talking even if your eyes couldn’t quite focus. “This was not your fault, you gotta—promise—me you know it wasn’t.”
           “I, ah—” he faltered, throat vibrating as he tried to keep the inevitable tears down.
           You gripped his hand tighter, felt your fingers going numb, and tried to smile hoping it didn’t look too grotesque on a face almost certainly drained of lifelike color. “C’mon, gotta obey a last wish, right?” The grief-stricken chuckle of surprise that dark joke punched out of Dean opened the floodgates, and tears burst forward to stream down his face. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.
           You’d thought of some goofy punchline to try to give, some ‘no sleeping with random girls for at least a year, want you guys to pour one out for me every day’ bullshit but seeing the love and pain in Dean’s eyes as your vision came in and out zapped it away. “I love you baby. I just—thank you for—everything—and—”
           It was getting too hard to take even those shallow breaths, your hearing gone fuzzy around the edges, and the last thing you remembered was seeing a streetlight on the edge of town as Dean took your face in his hands, “I know, kid, I know, come on—please,” fading out like he was being zipped away through a long tunnel.
           You were completely motionless in Dean’s arms, pulse gone thready enough that Dean was having a hard time finding it through the rumble of the car.
           “Fuck, Sam, FUCK!” Dean screamed, one hand wrapped up in the hair at the back of your neck as he fought desperately to keep you upright.
           Sam muscled through the lump in his throat and tried to stay focused. “When we get there you need to be ready to go, okay, Dean? HEY, listen to me. Don’t quit on me like this,” he barked, trying to catch his brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror without taking his focus off the road, terrified at the speed of the Impala and the potential of repeating what had happened the last time he’d had someone he loved bleeding out in the backseat.
           The car skittered around two corners and Sam prayed as hard as he had ever prayed for anything that there weren’t any Keystone cops looking to meet their month’s ticket quota by hanging around dark parking lots with radar guns, willed Dean to stop punching the window of the car with the hand that wasn’t clutching your head to his chest. He couldn’t decide if he thought it would’ve been better to have Dean drive, if he would’ve been able to hold it together any better than Dean was right now, if Dean could’ve focused if he was driving and not feeling you drift in his arms. There wasn’t time to figure it out and it ultimately didn’t matter, his brother turning into a bomb in the backseat and Sam needed to figure out a way to funnel Dean’s sheer panic back into the denial that would fuel him to keep moving, do anything to keep you alive, regardless of whether there was any hope left.
           “It’s not over, you’ve gotta keep it together. She needs you. See, we’re right around—"
           But he didn’t get to finish through the flurry of action as he pulled into the motel. He careened the Impala straight up to the door of the room, more than half of the car parked over a strip of grass intended to make the nondescript building feel more homey. By the time he’d torn the keys from the ignition Dean was practically leaping out of the backseat, carrying you into the room a quarter step after Sam half-busted the door open, laying you on a bed and tearing your t-shirt off with his bare hands like a cheap wrestling gimmick.
           Sam didn’t bother closing the motel door, moving too fast to care as he ripped a cork out of whiskey bottle with his teeth and poured it all over your now-exposed side, grimacing with nausea at the way it didn’t make you draw back in pain even a little. Dean tried his best to thread a needle with floss and remember whether it was better or worse that the blood was still flowing fast and bright red out of those stab wounds rather than slowing or oxidizing—this is bush league shit Dad pounded in years ago why can’t I remember fucking any of it? His hands shook with too much adrenaline to get the floss through the needle but Sam was already working on patching the biggest wound, tying knots with the rapid precision of a surgeon.
           It was only when he started getting in Sam’s way that the younger Winchester said anything more, encouraged that Dean was at least trying to pull himself together. He began talking through the stitches, muttering when he had to pull one tight with his teeth.
           “We—Dean, look at me.” Sam drilled into him with those brackish eyes, struggling to maintain the appearance of being in control that his brother needed of him when he could feel you going cold underneath his fingertips. “We’re going to need to give her a lot of fluids when she wakes up; all we have is beer. Go get some stuff for her to drink—electrolytes, she’ll need electrolytes.”
           “I’m not going to fucking leave, asshole!” Dean was strung out and not even pretending to hide it anymore, voice taking on that juvenile squeak Sam had only heard a handful of times since Dean was a teenager.
           He took a deep breath in an effort to soothe himself before speaking as clearly and firmly to Dean as possible, no room for negotiation. “Dean. This is not helping. The best thing you can do for her is to go get some fluids. Gatorade, OJ, bananas too, if they have them. She’ll need iron but we can deal with other food once she wakes up.”
           “What if she doesn’t—” Dean half-moaned, sounding like he’d been struck by something that was sucking all the oxygen from his lungs, looking like he was on the last ten feet of a hundred-mile race.
           “She’s going to wake up.”
           And Sam’s stubbornness actually did help Dean a bit in that moment, knowing that even if his life was about to change radically, that never would. “Go get some fucking Gatorade.”
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           By the time Dean came back—arms filled with so many bags of sports drinks that it would be comical in any other context—his brother had stitched up every wound, cleaned off most of the blood, and put all your limbs atop high stacks of pillows in an attempt to get as much blood to your vital organs as possible. Dean was near catatonic with the singular focus of a task, which was Sam’s intention. One thing at a time.
           After about five minutes of sitting alongside Sam watching you, thick, viscous panic bubbled back up to the surface.
           At first, he was muttering like he was talking to himself. “She told me, she fucking told me they wouldn’t be in the barn anymore, I didn’t listen. I should’ve been right behind her, Sam, what the fuck was I thinking—she was—she—she was alone, they wouldn’t have—” and then the way his voice built to a fever pitch matched his body, Dean perched on the mattress like a sailboat in a tempest, slammed against invisible waves of panic.
           “It wasn’t your fault, Dean. You couldn’t have known—”
           “She was alone against five of them, Sam, do you get that? I left her fucking ALONE!” Dean wailed, springing forward from the bed with eruptive energy and bashing the nightstand lamp hard enough that its base shattered against the opposite wall, coming clean out of the socket as easily as if it hadn’t been plugged in. Sam flinched but didn’t get up, instead taking a quick visual inspection that no shards of ceramic somehow bounced back to cut your still body. By the time he glanced up again he only had a millisecond to react as Dean threw a chair from the kitchenette against the wall, exploding the mirror there into shimmering beads of glass and ricocheting back, forcing Sam block it with a forearm lest it hit him or you.
           “DEAN, enough!” he yelled, crossing over to his brother with a few powerful strides and grappling with him, battling to keep Dean still as the older of the Winchester brothers fought to destroy the room to match the chaos in his mind. Sam knew exactly what was going on, the way Dean’s brain converted fear to rage, but hated when his brother got like this, not only because it cut so deep to see him in pain but because the explosiveness was so similar to the knock-down drag-outs they’d grown up with, made it impossible to try to fix the root of the problem.
           Sam tackling Dean to the ground was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.
           “Do I pull this shit when you guys are sleeping?” you croaked from the mattress, trying to sit up and immediately abandoning that plan, stilling yourself and holding your breath until the pain settled a fraction.
           Sam and Dean scrambled to get to their feet and ran over to you, hovering over the bed looking like their backs had a light dusting of glitter rather than a million tiny shards of glass.
           “What’re—are you okay? What do you remember?” Sam blurted out, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade out of a plastic bag and cracking it open for you. He snatched a pillow and helped you sit up slowly, jamming it under your head so you could drink.
           “Well, I’ve definitely felt better,” you tried to chuckle, but the tension it caused in your abdominal muscles made you wince. “I’m really sorry, you guys, I shouldn’t have—” you began, immediately stopped by the way Sam and Dean shook their heads, sucked on their teeth.
           “I’m—ah,” Sam started, smiling self-deprecatingly through the shake in his voice and looking down at the ground for a beat with his tongue in his cheek. It was like his body knew that the worst of the crisis had passed and refused to let him hide his emotions for one second further. After a second he met your eyes again, faintest hint of tears in his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re up.”
           Behind him, Dean collapsed into himself, his expression simultaneously complete relief and like he’d seen a ghost. You peered around Sam to meet his gaze. “Hey, dork,” you breathed, unable to come up with anything to match the weight of the moment.
           He opened his mouth a few times and couldn’t find anything either, wincing and biting his lip hard as he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I’m so sorry,” he finally choked out.
           As always, Sam knew what Dean needed and snatched the car keys off the table as his brother tried in vain to keep his restless limbs still. He gazed at you with such naked thankfulness it made you smile involuntarily. “I’m going to see how much red meat I can find you, I’ll be right back, okay? Drink as many of these as you can and don’t stand up alone.” You nodded gratefully to him as he backed out the door.
           When Sam left, Dean still shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands until he ultimately jammed them deep into the pockets of his coat with enough force that it shook loose almost all of the glass, sending it floating to the ground around him as if he was a mirage. You could see, even as he stood a few paces away from the bed, that his breathing was quickened from the rapid, shallow movements of his chest and neck. “I’m—ah, I didn’t think—I shouldn’t have—” he stammered against a jaw locked shut tensely enough to make the muscles bulge out of his cheeks, and the lack of the self-assuredness that was normally so Dean to you made him seem unbelievably young, made you want to leap across the room and wrap him up in your arms. As it was, you beckoned him over with a shaky hand.
           He walked over to you hesitantly, only sitting down on the side opposite your injuries when you patted the sheets next to you. Awkwardly trying to move your torso as little as possible, you tossed the pillows on that side to the floor and motioned for him to lay down.
           “I don’t want to hurt—”
           “I’ll be fine. Please?”
           Reluctantly taking off his coat and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground, he gingerly tucked himself under your arm and laid his head on your chest. You faintly dragged your fingertips down his back, waiting for his heartbeat and uneven, shallow breathing to slow down. When they didn’t and all you felt was a spreading wetness on the remaining upper half of t-shirt you still had, you twisted laboriously to see Dean’s face.
           Tears streamed down onto you, Dean biting his lip so hard to keep quiet you were shocked you couldn’t see blood, the whites of his teeth almost matching the pressure-blanched skin.
           “Oh, Dean,” you hummed, pulling him close to you with your one arm. “Babe, I’m here, I’m right here. Everything’s okay; I’m okay, you get to treat me like a princess for a few days and I’ll learn for the hundredth time that I shouldn’t go off by myself.”
           “I—I thought you were gone,” Dean whispered between stunted sobs breaking the words off in short staccato, still fighting to speak as though he wasn’t crying even as his tears soaked you.
           You craned your neck slowly to kiss the top of his head. “Not gone, right here. Always going to be right here.”
           “You were bleeding so mu—just like Sam, it was just like when Sam—” he faltered, speaking slowly to try to grab the reins of his voice as it shook.
           “Not just like Sam, baby, I’m still here. Everyone’s okay. And Sam’s okay too, right?” You waited for him to confirm what you knew was true and emphasize your point, drawing back to meet his gaze when he didn’t. “Right?”
           Reluctantly, Dean nodded. The redness around his eyes made his irises seem almost unreal in electric green contrast and you couldn’t believe you were so close to never seeing them again. His lashes were even darker than normal, spiky black frames formed with salty tears like cartoonish mascara. You waited a beat then let him settle back into your chest before continuing, feeling the choke-hiccupping of his breath stop even if it stayed rapid. “Everyone’s okay. You’re okay,” you hummed into his hair. “You’re okay, baby.”
           The two of you stayed like that until Dean’s breathing finally steadied, waiting past the clearly forced long held breaths and through to the point that he genuinely seemed like he’d hit the smooth rhythm you knew so well. “How are you feeling?” you murmured.
           “Like a bitch,” he grumbled softly against your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile, thankful beyond anything for the glint of humor back in Dean, that shimmer of normalcy returning.
           “Sorry for scaring you.”
           “I’m never fucking letting you out of my sight again,” he said, words still sticky with swirling emotion and muffled by his cheek pressed against you. You knew he was only partly joking but also that now was not the time to push back, just kissing his hair in response.
           There was no way it took Sam an hour to get you a diner burger but you were thankful for his intuition nonetheless, because by the time he got back Dean was calm enough to get up and had even helped you to put on a new t-shirt—one of his black ones; he said it was because it was looser but you suspected it was some kind of metaphor, covering you with part of himself—and shimmy into a pair of mesh athletic shorts. Standing up for a shower was still too ambitious, but the fresh clothes made you feel a little less gross. He was trying his best to clean up as much broken glass as possible when his brother opened the door and tossed him a paper bag with a bubbly illustrated hamburger on it.
           Walking into the room without taking his jacket off, Sam set your food on the nightstand and grabbed a motel binder of local attractions (minimal) as a makeshift tray for you to eat off of before carefully helping you to sit up a little more. “Double cheeseburger—eat it before the fries, you need the iron. Oh, and I almost forgot—couple of these too.” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved two bottles in one big hand that appeared to be acetaminophen and an iron supplement.
           “You’re the best, Sam.” It was nice to hear your voice sound more normal, lubricated with two bottles of Gatorade already, and you tried not to imagine how awkward or painful it was going to be to try to get up and go to the bathroom later.
           The Winchesters sat on the other bed, still in their boots because of the rug of broken glass no one wanted to acknowledge, and Sam turned on whatever dumb comedy he could find first. For a fleeting moment it felt like any normal night on the road, nursing an injury and eating greasy food in a room you’d never see again past tomorrow morning, and you almost forgot that (minutes? hours? you still didn’t know how long you’d been out) earlier you thought you were saying goodbye to the two people you loved most, who’d moved heaven and earth and miles of rural highway to bring you back, whose superhero resilience you’d seen start to crack at the thought of losing you. A searing jolt of pain when you reached for another Gatorade reminded you all too much, and when you hissed both Sam and Dean leapt off the bed with faces contorted in concern.
           “Just stretched too far, I’m okay.”
           Watching them take twin deep breaths could’ve been funny and you hoped it would be in a few days—hoped in a few days laughing wouldn’t feel like being impaled. For now, you tried to drink in this little moment of peace and made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t take another one for granted ever again.
-
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strangerivy · 3 years
Text
Say Your Mine
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Summary:   Levi and you head out with a small group of Scouts out of the walls to clear out some titans and your taught a small lesson on why your hair should not be long and in the fear pint up emotions are brought out into the open. Warnings: Swearing | Some Violence | Spoilers for No Regrets OVA   Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader (y/n) Genre: 18+ | Fluff  Word Count: 2.8k Author’s Note: So my dumb butt forgot Flagon is dead... so I fixed Confessions in the Snow switching it to Mike, nothing changed though. Anyway, let me know what you guys think! and if anyone wants to be tagged in future Levi fic’s just let me know and I’ll start a taglist 😊 💜
|| Masterlist | AOT Masterlist ||
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Year 845 - Spring
You sat on your horse next to Levi, running your fingers through your horse’s mane with a soft smile, soaking up the little amount of peace you would have for the majority of the day. The morning sun just barely breaking over the top of the wall as you waited for the gates to open. A soft spring breeze blowing through you, sending a chill up your spine. The frost on the almost bloomed flowers that lined the streets and in window garden beds of the homes around you was a symbol of the cold night air still lingering around. 
Your hair blew wildly around you and you quickly swiped it away from your face with a huff as you continued running your fingers through the mane, your horse letting out a snort in appreciation lifting its head for you to pet it more causing you to let out a small giggle scratching the underside of its chin. You heard Levi click his tongue and you looked over at him with a tilt of your head.
“What?” You asked not sure what could have pissed him off so early but then as you thought about it, there were a number of things that could have. For instance, you may have given him your cup of tea rather than his. But he would have said something you thought, your morning tea always having sugar added to it, which is something he hated, always commenting on how it ruined the taste of the tea.
“Didn’t you have time to do anything with your hair?” He questioned looking over at you with narrow eyes, another gust of wind sending your hair into a wild dance again. When the wind died down once again you quickly gathered it up and pulled it behind you taking the hair tie you did have, tying it sloppily back to appease the grumpy man beside you.
“Better?” You pointed at the messy bun with a cheeky grin unphased by his cold attitude and he scoffed once again with a roll of his eyes.
“It’ll do,” He sighed knowing he wouldn’t get a better result now as you were about to leave.  Of all the days you could have overslept, it had to be the day you go out beyond the walls. Erwin, who was leading this mission, yelled out that the gates would be opening shortly. You felt your heart began to beat faster as the minutes tick. 
There was always a sense of excitement and nerves each time you went outside the walls. Excitement to see the outside world once again, beyond the walls. Nerves because you could never predict what was going to happen, how many people would be lost this time? If you would be one of those, you glance at Levi from the corner of your eye, or if he would be among the dead. You let out a heavy sigh from your own thoughts and Levi eyed you curiously but still looking stoic as ever, the fear of what lay beyond the walls never seeming to faze him. You waved his unasked question off as the formation began to move forward, the sound of chains rattling signaling the gate was raising.
“Nothing,” you sighed heavily “Just lost in my own head,”
“Aren’t you always lost in your head,” Levi deadpanned your mouth dropped at his comment feeling your annoyance rise, the dark thoughts forgotten in an instant.
“Rude!” You shouted in offense shooting daggers at him with your glare, he smirked before you started to speed up making it outside of the walls into the open world beyond the walls. You closed your eyes for a moment letting yourself feel the sense of freedom beyond the wall provided before regaining your composure and becoming the skilled soldier you had become over the last few months.
The signal came to break off into your smaller parties, the mission was small so there weren’t many of you out in the field today. Reports of a few titans having been spotted too close for comfort, easy in and out misson.
You and Levi sped up veering off to the left of the formation following right behind Erwin and Mike, you would be closest to the trees that you would be looking for the Titans this time around. You kept your eyes open waiting to catch any movement.
You were quick to spot the 10-meter titan running at you, quickly shooting a red smoked signal flare into the air to signal the other parties. As soon as the Titan was close enough, Levi used the trees on the edge of the forest to take it out. You grabbed onto his horse so that he would be able to easily get back on and continue with the mission.
Levi got back onto his horse with ease giving you a nod grabbing ahold of its reins. Another 10-meter appeared that Mike was able to take out as you continued along the edge of the trees. That was the nice thing about your team now, you didn’t really need to speak to know what to do.
The mission was going smoothly for you each having killed a Titan. Erwin gave the order to retreat as it seemed you had got all the suspecting Titans. You were heading back to the gate with a small smile as it seemed for once, no one died. This seemed to be the case each time you went out with Erwin, he was growing quite a reputation of not losing people in his squad.
You turned to talk to Levi when a large leg of a 15-meter Titan shot out of the trees causing you to quickly turn your horse almost losing balance and falling off but you were able to quickly recover still moving as the Titan tried to swipe at you just barely missing as you swerved. You cursed yourself, getting into a stance on the back of your horse to use your gear.
You hooked your grappling hooks onto a tree just behind the titan using it to gain momentum with your gas to get high enough into the air to grapple onto the nap but just as you were about to do that, you felt your hair become loose flying wildly behind you. You made eye contact with the mindless creature, the world suddenly moving in slow motion as you watched its hand reach out grabbing onto your hair with a tight grip.
You let out a painful scream as you were yanked by the titan feeling the whiplash in your neck and then pain on your scalp from being held by your hair. You reached up dropping your blades, holding onto the base of your hair that you could grab to help relieve some of the pressure, trying to yank your hair out of its grip, legs swing wildly in the air. You felt the air leave your lungs as it brought you closer to its mouth your actions becoming more desperate, your eyes beginning to tear up as you thought your fate was now sealed. You tried to reach your dangling swords while still pulling on your hair another string of curses leaving your lips.
Just as the Titan was about to lower you to its mouth you heard the hiss of ODM gear and a scream of an angered soldier but not just any, Levi.
“Get your filthy hands off her!” He spat as he sliced at the neck, a more than large enough piece being cut from the nape nearly beheading the thing.  The titan began to fall forward with you still in its grasp, but it was now loosening enough for the strands to slip through. Its body already beginning to disintegrate. Levi quickly grabbed hold of you in midair before landing on the ground whistling for your horses to come back before another titan can make a surprise appearance.
You collapsed to the ground once your feet hit the earth breathing heavily as you tried to calm your racing heart down, adrenaline still rushing through you your hands shaking as you collected your blades sheathing them. Your horse appeared next to you and you began to stand up using Levi’s arm to help pull you up.
“T-thank y-” You were cut off as Levi slammed his lips onto yours once you were fully standing, his hands on either side of your face pulling you closer to him. You stared at him in shock at his actions feeling his lips move against your still ones as your brain tried to process that this was real.
You felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip asking for entrance and you relaxed into his grip closing your eyes and kissing him back just as passionately gripping onto his jacket. You parted your lips with a soft sigh letting him in your tongues battling for dominance after years of pint up romantic tension was finally let go, poured all into this one kiss.
He broke the kiss resting his forehead on yours both of you taking deep breaths to catch your breath. You relaxed your grip on his jacket as rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. He let out a sigh before helping you back onto your horse, you weren’t able to take your eyes off of him as he did, confusion filling your mind. Once he was sitting back on his horse you went to speak.
“Le-”
“We are cutting your hair the second we get back to HQ,” He interrupted before taking off towards the others. You blinked a few times as you stared at him riding away knowing that once you were back things would need to be discussed, you could no longer play this game and you weren’t sure he wanted to either. One of you needed to make the first move, looks like it needed to be you.
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You were laying on Levi’s bed, legs dangling over the edge gently swing them as you were waiting for him to gather the things he needed for your inevitable haircut. You traced the groves of the bottom of the top bunk with the tip of your figure as you heard him walkabout, you replayed the conversation you had with Hange earlier while Levi was conversing with Erwin about the mission.
“So, he just kissed you, in front of everyone, and then rode off?” She questioned as she was taking notes from her most recent experiment, she looked up at you threw her glasses, “What are you going to do?”
You let out a frustrated sigh falling back into one of her chairs running a hand through your hair working out the knots as your fingers reached the ends. “I don’t know,” You whispered staring up at the ceiling and Hange let out an equally frustrated sigh making you look up at her.
“You two are so much alike it’s no wonder neither of you have admitted your feelings to the other,” She states almost as if you weren’t in the room and she was speaking to herself. “Are you happy? Are you happy with how things are between the two of you? Can you keep going like this y/n?”
Hange’s words echoed through your mind making your frown. Your mind wandered to the kiss once again your heart starting to race at just the memory of it. You thought about what it could mean, but you knew in the back of your mind exactly what it meant but your fear of assuming the wrong thing had you pushing that thought as far back as it could go.
You lifted your head to see he was getting the chair set up, you let out a frustrated sigh letting your head fall back onto the mattress. You felt a gentle kick on your boot making you lift your head again.
“Come on,” Levi motioned to the chair and you lifted yourself off the bed taking a seat. He had grabbed your brush from your room brushing the knots out of your hair. This was your favorite part of the whole process. Levi always took his time whenever he brushed your hair, it was calming especially on nights you couldn’t sleep and you two would just sit there talking and he would mindlessly brush your hair with his fingers.
After Levi is satisfied with your hair being knot-free, he begins working on cutting your hair to a more manageable length.
“Honestly, how did you not notice this mop?” He questions a hint of annoyance in his tone
“It’s not a mop!” You let out a small huff, “And besides I’m not the only one who seems to have forgotten about their hair, yours is a bit longer than usual as well,” You defended, you heard Levi let out a small snort and you went to turn your head to look at him with a smirk, but he gripped your head-turning it back forward.
“Hold still,” He instructed, you both fell into a comfortable silence the only sound in the room being that of the scissors. Your mind once again allowed to wander to things you didn’t want to think about especially in the presence of the man those thoughts were about.
“Levi?” You asked, he let out a hum telling you that he was listening. You kept your gaze at the ground as you tried to find the right words. You must have taken too long because the room became quiet.
“What is it?” Levi asks curiously wondering what had you so on edge. You debated making something up to avoid the conversation once again, but you knew it would only make the situation worse if it wasn’t addressed now. If the kiss wasn’t addressed. You took a breath to calm your nerves.
“You kissed me,” Your voice was soft when you finally spoke the air in the room changing, thickening as the veil you and Levi danced around shattered, “Y-you kissed me and- and I don’t know what it means,” Your voice was barely above a whisper but sounded so loud with each word, your heart feeling like it was going to beat right out of your chest. 
The room remained quiet, the only thing giving away that he was still standing behind you was his breath. You began to heat up from nerves worried that this was a mistake, thoughts beginning to flood your mind of how you should have just kept your mouth shut and continued playing the game. You went to turn around in your seat to look at him, but he grabbed ahold of your shoulders pulling you tight to the back of the chair, holding you in place. You tensed at the sudden contact keeping your gaze on the ground, his fingers were trembling slightly giving away just how nervous he was.
“I’m sorry,” You panicked going to stand up and walk out “I s-s-shouldn’t have said anything” You rambled but before you could leave Levi grabbed a hold of your wrist.
“Will you just give me a second, dammit” His voice was quiet but still held a sternness to it that kept you from running out the door. His grip loosened slowly until his hand finally let go dropping to his side. You pulled your hand to your chest rubbing your wrist with your other hand as you cautiously turned to face him.
He was staring down at the ground his hair covering his face, hands dangling at his side. You took a step cautious step closer and then another until you were standing right in front of him. He slowly lifted his head so that he was looking at you and that’s when you could see the deep blush on his cheeks. Seeing him blush caused your cheeks to start heating up and you turned your head in embarrassment, but he gently gripped your chin turning it back to face him.
“It means that I love you, alright?” His voice gained more confidence as he went on, “It means that I’m yours and I would like- I would like i-if you would be mine,” He scratched the back of his head from the nerves and you stared at him in a bit of shock your mouth slightly opened as your processed his words a smile slowly spreading across your lips as it sunk in.
You threw your arms around his neck pulling him into you in a tight embrace as you snuggled into the side of his neck taking in his scent that always brought a sense of peace to you. He slowly relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his arms slowly wrapping around your waist holding you equally as tight to him.
“Of course I will,” You answered with a smile pulling back enough to look at him “Always have been,” He pulled you into a kiss just like before. He cupped your face rubbing soft circles into your cheeks. When you parted he pushed a few stray hairs out of your face.
"Now let's fix your mop,"
"It's not a damn mop!"
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runwithwolvcs · 3 years
Text
You Know I'm No Good - eleven
just one more
Warnings: none just fluff
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It's you,
because no one else makes sense
Pauls PoV
Paul had dropped Tallulah just before midnight, waiting until she had made it safely into her home before heading off towards Sam’s, which wasn’t too far from the Forresters. He cut through the well-known woods as a shortcut before coming out into the same clearing Sam and he had found Tallulah and her friends just one week prior. Where he had found Tallulah and that Chase kid all wrapped up in one another, now mixed with the boy he had found her with tonight, sent waves of anger through Paul's body. Not necessarily from jealousy, more so to do with his imprints lack of care of who she chooses as company. Paul knows he's not much better than the boys she calls her friends, he was them when he was in high school. Before he had shifted at least.
He had known trying to figure her out wouldn’t be easy, especially with the rumors that had been spread like wildfire amongst the tribe before she had even stepped foot onto the reservation. When Rachel had pointed her out at the bonfire her first night, the night everything had changed for him, he couldn’t help but notice how different she seemed. He knew that she had grown up in the city, but even just the air around her, the way she didn’t care that everyone's eyes were focused on her, was so refreshing in comparison to most of the younger girls on the res. Surely, he should’ve known just from that thought she would be special to him, considering who he had shown up to the bonfire with was no longer a thought in his mind, but only when they had made eye contact was it solidified.
Her.
His other half.
And just like that everything had changed. He had wanted to say hello, introduce himself and if it wasn’t for the immediate connection, he would have, but he could feel her resentment. To what he was unsure of, but it was enough to send a ripple of anger through him, and with Rachel's reaction to Tallulah, it was enough to send him over the edge completely, causing him to leave the bonfire early and his imprint.
His first interaction with her had not gone to plan either. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the fiery girl he had met that day excited him, he wanted to know more of her, and still does. Even though she had spent the week helping Paul at the bookstore, and more and more of her personality had come out besides just the exterior front she had put up with him, he wanted to know more about her. What her life was like back in Seattle, what her interests are, besides causing what seems to be an infinite amount of trouble for herself. Her favorite book, and movie. Everything.
Walking down the dirt road up to the familiar wooden cottage, Paul could see his truck sitting off to the side meaning Embry had beaten him back, hopefully he had filled them in too, he thought to himself, wanting nothing more than to just go on his patrol shift and then head to bed.
Walking through the door he was met with Sam and Emily sitting at their dining room table, he could hear that Embry was in the kitchen, no doubt looking for something to eat. They had stopped their conversation as soon as Paul had entered, Sam was now looking at him with a stern look, whereas Emilys was more concerned, “She’s fine.” he reassured Emily, and himself.
Emily had quickly spoken to Tallulah after Paul had unintentionally shifted, something that was so rare for him to do nowadays. Emily was the one who was able to pull out any information from Tal, which he was grateful for, but from the look on Sams, he was not so happy,
“You should have gone to Joseph,” Sam started, causing Paul to scoff, “That's what he’s asked of us, Paul. I let you get away with keeping her night in the clearing from him, but this, this was something he should’ve dealt with himself. Tallulah is his daughter, and if you’re always there to bail her out of the problems she creates for herself, then you’re undermining the limits he’s set with her.” Sam spoke with authority, like Paul was back in school having been sent to the principal's office.
He wanted to roll his eyes, instead he just said, “His daughter? His daughter that he knows nothing about. His daughter that he completely abandoned when she was a child. His daughter, that he doesn’t want to be truly happy because if he did he wouldn’t have come to me and asked for me to ignore the imprint. I’m not sorry that I didn’t go to him, because that was the last thing she needed tonight.” With each sentence he got angrier and angrier, causing Sam to stand up from his spot at the table.
Even the thought of the day Joseph had called a meeting with himself and Sam could cause him to shift on the spot. Being told from the day he first shifted that finding your imprint was a gift, and then being told to stay away from her once he had found her left him in a state of permanent anger. The worst part was that he actually listened and did what he was told despite seeing the repercussions it was having on her.
“Whatever you may think of him, Paul, does not mean you get to overrule what he says. None of this would have happened tonight if she had listened to her father.” Sam reasoned, and before Paul could defend his actions yet again, Emily stepped in,
“I think what Sam is trying to say is that Tallulah needs that family structure. Joseph wants to give her that, and because you imprinted on her so suddenly, he just wants to make sure she still gets it before you tell her everything. That's why he wanted you to fight back from the pull, and obviously that didn’t work out quite like anyone expected. But you protecting her from any consequence that she needs to face is only going to re-solidify for her that she doesn’t need that family structure in her life. Which could cause problems for both of you, once she finds out she’s linked to you for the rest of her life.” Emily explained gently.
Paul ran his hands over his face in exhaustion. He knew she was right, that Sam was too. But he didn’t want to hurt her, their friendship was fragile already and telling her dad about her whereabouts would only fracture it even more. “I’m going to tell her everything. Whether Joseph wants me to or not, she deserves to know. Hell, she deserves to know why he abandoned her and her mom, too.”
Tallulah’s POV:
The next morning Tallulah woke up in a state of sorrow, wanting nothing more than to just be left alone by everyone. Deciding that the only way she was going to truly find seclusion was to go for a hike by herself. It wasn’t the safest option she had come up with but it definitely was the most fool-proof.
She stood at the entrance of a path leading into the woods, pulling her jacket tighter around body as the wind picked up. The only thing she had bothered to bring with her was a small backpack carrying a water bottle. She had left her phone on the kitchen counter next to a note that had said she had gone on a hike, so that her dad and Kira knew she didn’t have it. She didn’t want to see or be contacted by anyone, and she meant it wholeheartedly. Walking into the forest following the worn, dirt path through the what seemed to be never ending trees, the smell of the earthy air mixed with the leftover rain smell from earlier in the morning was intoxicating. She loved it. It was something she craved in Seattle, which was a never ending smell of car fumes and other awful aromas. It was something she grew to love, but she never felt at peace there. She felt as if there was a piece of her missing in Seattle, and being back in La Push had seemingly filled that feeling, though she would never admit it outloud to anyone, ever.
Tallulah felt free in the woods as she continued down the overused path, following all the twists and turns, up all the little hills. The crisp air burned her lungs as she struggled to keep her breathing laboured. She was never one for exercise and it was really starting to show but she continued anyway. The wind seemingly picked up the higher she got from the ground, the leaves of the trees around her bristling with it. This was the most at peace she had felt since arriving in LaPush. No one was around to tell her what to do or how to act, just herself and her thoughts. It was nice for a change.
She arrived at a little clearing just in front of a cliff and decided to take a small break, leaning up against one of the many trees around her. She could hear the waves of the ocean from her spot, but was too nervous to get closer to the edge of the cliff.
A branch breaking nearby caused Tallulah to swivel quickly in the direction she thought it came from, the feeling of being watched by something giving her an uneasy feeling, she forced herself to continue in the direction she had been headed. She was too far into her hike to turn back now, she thought to herself. Walking up another steep area, she held onto a tree to keep her steady as she climbed the rough terrain. The bark of the old tree felt rough on her palm. As she got herself past the steep area, Tallulah surveyed what the next bit of path looked like as she continued slowly, the feeling of being watched had grown severely. The rustle of the trees and bushes around signalling that there must be an animal nearby, probably just a bunny, she thought to herself.
Taking her backpack off her back, she knelt down to unzip it, the ground keeping it up right. Grabbing the water bottle she had packed before zipping it back up. Taking a sip as she stood up, a howl ripped through the air from the area she had just been in, too close for comfort causing Tallulah to grab her bag off the ground and begin to speed walk further up the path, looking behind her to make sure the wolf wasn’t behind her. When she turned back around, Paul was walking towards her. An unreadable expression on his face. He was shirtless, in his usual cargo shorts and running shoes despite the fact that the wind felt more like knives.
“What is wrong with you? Do you know how many people are looking for you right now?” he asked, the concern was evident in his tone.
“I left a note.” she stated bluntly. It's not like she just ran away.
“And your phone!” he exclaimed.
“I wanted to be alone.” she tried to justify but Paul was having none of it.
“You can’t just come out here alone, Tal. It’s dangerous.” he stressed, “You could’ve gotten hurt and nobody would have known.” That's a fair point, she thought to herself.
“I’m not alone.” she said as she walked past him, continuing on the path, “You’re here.”
They continued forward, Paul following a few steps behind, before she stopped at another lookout. Tallulah was exhausted but too stubborn to admit, especially to Paul. There were a few picnic benches in the clearing of the lookout that she had walked over to, sitting on top with her feet on the bench, taking a sip of her water before handing it to Paul.
“How’d you find me?” she asked curiously as he took a swig of her bottle and placed it on top of the table before sitting next to her.
“Only so many trails near your house. Guess I got lucky choosing the one I did” he spoke softly. Tallulah nodded her head, looking him over. He looked so tired and she felt a bit guilty considering the events of the night before. Noticing the circular tattoo on his shoulder, two wolves howling, she couldn’t help but trace it lightly with her finger, amazed at the intricacy of. It really puts all of her little sticks and pokes to shame.
“When did you get this?” she asked quietly, shifting her eyes from the tattoo to his face.
He cleared his throat before saying, “When I was sixteen. It’s kind of a long story.” he trailed off.
She nodded her head and smiled before saying, “It’s nice.”
“You’ve got some pretty interesting ones too,” he teased, “I particularly like the little ghost you’ve got.”
Tallulah laughed, “I thought I did a pretty good job.” she said, shoving the sleeve of her jacket up her arm to look at the little ghost on her forearm that she had done when she was 15 on Halloween.
“You apply to any colleges yet” Paul asked curiously to which Tallulah nodded her head.
“Yeah, I did back in Seattle but I’m not going to get into any of them so..” she trailed off, shoving her sleeve back down her arm, hiding her hands inside her sleeve. He was looking at her, and she couldn't tell if he was confused or concerned by her statement. “I was in the arts stream at my old school. All my applications needed an extensive portfolio that I’m never going to get to finish so they're basically already rejections.” She explained, although she didn’t know if she was upset about the fact that she didn’t have all of the qualifications for the schools she had chosen. She didn’t even know if she had wanted to go to college.
“Do you regret not going to college?” she asked him, turning her body so she was facing him.
“No,” Paul shook his head, “I didn’t really have plans to go. Couldn’t you finish your portfolio here?”
“No, I don’t have any of the equipment and it's all too expensive. Besides, I don’t want to waste my time and money just to be told no.”
He nodded his head in understanding, “You’ve still got lots of time to figure out what you want to do next.” he placed his warm hand on her knee and gave it a comforting squeeze causing her cheeks to flush more than what the cold had already caused. Whether the cold was making her mind delirious and the warmth radiating off Paul's body was too inviting, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning over and pressing her cold lips to his warm ones. It was soft and gentle but also sent shockwaves through her body.
Realizing what she had just done, Tallulah pulled away quickly, eyes wide and wild, “I shouldn’t have.. Oh my..I’m sorry, you have -” she rambled before being cut off by Paul pressing his lips back to hers. His large hand came to rest on her cheek, her eyes fluttered closed. She kissed him back with the same need that he had. It felt like one timeless and passionate moment that she would never be able to relive again and she reveled in it.
Tallulah brought her hand up to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers into his overgrown hair. It was all so sensual and smooth, nothing like any of the boys she had ever kissed before. Nothing like Xander. She felt guilty for thinking about him while her lips were connected to Pauls but it brought her back down to reality, she pulled away from him keeping her eyes cast to the ground. She separated herself from him and stood up from the picnic table, “We shouldn’t have done that.” she said quickly.
“Tal,” Paul reached for her but she shook her head, “You have a girlfriend! And I-” she stopped herself taking a deep breath, looking up at him not knowing what to say.
Paul chuckled, “I don’t have a girlfriend. But hey” he raised his hands up in defense, “It was a momentary lapse of judgement on your part but I’m not going to apologize. I wanted to kiss you, so I did.” he stated.
“Fine , you don’t have a girlfriend and I kissed you first but it’s never going to happen again.” she tried to state firmly, knowing damn well she wanted nothing more to walk up and kiss him again.
“Fine.” he agreed, standing up and in front of her. She sighed exasperatedly, standing on her tippy toes, both hands clasping his cheeks, “Just one more.”
Taglist: @cperry0516 , @bhasbhabiessss, @fuzzyfingersandcavier @haventdecidedyet
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palidoozy-art · 3 years
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The more I think about your recent post about the changes you made to Strahd, the more I wonder about those changes you made to the others mentioned (Rahadin, Van Richten, Ireena, etc). I'd absolutely love to hear what adjustments you made as you already shared some stellar ideas already. Like the Tome? -Chef kiss- Amazing.
Oh mannn I do love talking about my campaign. I changed a lot with them. Again, weirdly enough, I think Strahd wound up being the most like his original incarnation. I could talk forever about the changes I made so I'll try to be brief haha. IT STILL WON'T BE BRIEF.
Obvious CoS spoilers below
IREENA - I thought it was weird that the picture they gave her makes her look like such a badass, and then the module just kind of writes her as a damsel in distress to either get kidnapped or pulled into water or dumped somewhere. To me, she's like, the second most important character in CoS -- and the book literally gives you less direction to roleplay her than her brother. Furthermore, reading her ending actually legit made me mad.
So I said fuck all that. Ireena in my game was a 19-year old girl who grew and developed over the course of the campaign. Several of my players actually said they thought of her as "the main character," just because she experienced a lot of character growth and development, going from a sheltered meek teenager to someone who can fight and assert herself. The biggest change I made to her though was that I very specifically did not just want her to be "Tatyana with memory loss." Ireena is a unique individual who happens to be partially made out of Tatyana's soul. While she shares many similarities with Tatyana, they're separate people, and part of what Ireena has to grapple with is how to live up to that. She's in the post-campaign because of that distinction -- while Sergei offered her to join him, she declined, because she wants to experience life past her twenties. I didn't get to play it out because we were kind of rushing towards the end, but I honestly envisioned a scene where she talks to the portrait of Tatyana, apologizing to her because she knows she's being selfish remaining alive.
This also brings up a unique problem in the post campaign. If Ireena dies, she ceases to exist and may not be able to be resurrected. When her soul leaves her body, it's Tatyana's again. Ireena very much wants to live. Tatyana doesn't. A resurrection has to be made with the consent of the soul, and if Tatyana declines, Ireena's just... gone. Forever.
Related: because I wasn't sure what my players would ask, and Rahadin would absolutely know this information -- there have been 18 incarnations of Tatyana, including the original. I actually have a timeline of when they were all born and how they died. The curse manifests in that they always die or are killed before their 25th birthday. If Strahd attempts to marry them, they lose their minds and throw themselves off of the same balcony the original Tatyana jumped off of during the ceremony. Strahd can never have Tatyana. Vampyr will ensure of that.
But yeah, essentially: Ireena gained actual class levels; she wasn't just Tatyana with memory loss; she traveled with the party for 90% of the campaign and wasn't just a macguffin to be kidnapped/take to places; and I removed any of the "Sergei takes her into water/the sky and you never see her again" endings because I absolutely hated those.
VAN RICHTEN - Van Richten I tweaked a lot from his original incarnation. First, I started him off as Lawful Neutral. No, game, I know you tell me he's Lawful Good, but I'm gonna have to disagree with you that "training a racist tiger to genocide an ethnic camp" falls under the spectrum of Lawful Good. Second, I changed him from cleric to artificer (alchemist). I somehow just got the impression the dude was a godless man, and so he felt more fitting to be a man of science rather than a man of the church. Third, since I wasn't sure the other dread domains were ever going to be brought into 5e I moved him out of Darkon and into another world from the outside.
His backstory was also tied more into Strahd and the campaign in general, as well as the Dark Powers. About 30 years ago, he went into the mists with his own adventuring party (that included Escher) to try to rescue his kidnapped son, Erasmus. He found his son half-turned and begging him for death. Killing him, Van Richten hunted down the Vistani woman (Ezmerelda's mother) who sold the man, and in a rage strangled her to death. This gave him a curse. Ezmerelda witnessed it happen.
He went on a warpath against vampire spawn and vistani alike, until Strahd proposed a deal to Escher. Escher lured the group to a familiar dinner date with Strahd... only for Strahd to murder all of them, including Van Richten. Van Richten was approached by a dark power -- Vaund the Evasive, and given the option to return to life in exchange for the promise that Van Richten would eventually return to Amber Temple and free him. He took it, waking up outside of Barovia. From there he became famed vampire-hunter-book-author, until in his early 50's he decided it was time to seek vengeance and fulfill his promise. He brought in his hat of disguise, came up with an alibi, and headed into Barovia as Rictavio the Great.
He was absolutely played as a much more morally grey character at the start (the party's first encounter with him rather than Rictavio was him literally torturing a dude). He softened over the course of the campaign as he grew attached to the party, until finally reaching a point in the post-campaign where he's considered Lawful Good
Also: Ezmerelda was treated more or less as his adoptive daughter. She absolutely argued against this every single time, but he even slipped up and referred to her as his daughter on a few tense occasions.
RAHADIN - Rahadin I adjusted a lot, too. A LOOOOOOT. Strahd being comically evil makes sense -- the dude is a darklord, that kind of comes with the territory. With Rahadin, I wanted him to have more motivations to his actions, because the base game actually suggests that the dude is actually capable of caring. In the base game, you can find him at Amber Temple, trying to "petition the dark god into releasing his master from his torment." He screams in grief if he finds Strahd dead. Furthermore it felt like the game glosses over the fact that the dude was adopted as Barov's son. It doesn't bother addressing how Rahadin felt about Sergei, who would in theory be his other brother. I thought a number of things suggested in his backstory were interesting, but not expanded upon in the base game. So I took it upon myself to do so.
I changed how dusk elf society was built, which affected the three major dusk elf characters. It worked off of a pretty brutal caste system, with three kings at the top overseeing all of it. Rahadin was born in a lower caste, but actually brought into the warrior caste after a member of royalty was intrigued by his stature. Rahadin worked as a general, but grew frustrated by the inefficiencies of the caste system and its inequality. He started attempting to use his influence to petition other members of nobility into changing or loosening the strict system.
Patrina caught wind of this, and viewing it as a threat to her lifestyle + viewing it as an easy way to gain brownie points with those above her... tattled on him to the three kings, spinning what he was doing as treason. Rahadin was arrested and subsequently tortured. They attempted to execute him on a breaking wheel, breaking his bones against the spokes and leaving him in the town square as an example. He wound up escaping, crawling his way out of town until he was subsequently rescued by a group of human monks. The event pretty much broke him, morally. He went to Barov soon after and sold his people out, taking a personal hand in helping annihilate the dusk elves and conquering their land. Barov was so impressed by the man's loyalty that he adopted him as his son.
Part of this was done to make a connection as to why the hell Rahadin just absolutely fuckin' hates Patrina so much (since that definitely got played up during the campaign). When thinking of Rahadin's motivations, I tried to come at it from the angle that this man was evil... but legitimately cared deeply about Strahd, Sergei, and Tatyana. He was devestated from the events of the wedding, but saw Strahd's return as a second chance. As the lone surviving witness from the wedding, he desperately wanted to help the three of them. But his own blind loyalty to Strahd and his broken moral compass prevented him from doing so.
One of my favorite little additions was a sidequest I offered to the players (they wanted to redeem Rahadin). They were requested by him to retrieve (well, "not destroy or sell") one of his most precious belongings in his office. When they get there... it turns out it's a birthday card and a worn-out old amulet from Sergei and Tatyana that he's kept after all these years. They got Ireena to read the letter to him, to help him keep going after Strahd's death.
anyway i could ramble on about changes forever but i don't want this post to get too long haha. i have. many feelings. over this campaign. maybe at some point I'll do a separate post with some of the others.
i also kinda wanna do a comic of an event from Rahadin's backstory for my players but we'll see, I might deem it "too stupid."
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wesimpforxiao · 3 years
Text
Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  5.1
Author’s Note:  How’s everyone liking the story so far?  Kinda getting into my head about how stiff the writing is.  Maybe it just feels stiff to me, idk.  Anyways, here’s an early chapter!
"So, why are your eyes different colors?"  Childe caught you alone while you gathered firewood a few yards away from the camp.  The sun had long set, leaving you to rely on a lantern and the dim light of the distant fire.  He was limping from your sparring session earlier.
You had beat him.
And man, did it feel good.
"We crossed paths with a merchant that was traveling from Fontaine.  He said they're 'contacts.'  Basically little objects a person can put across their pupils and change their color," you repeated the rehearsed words a little too perfectly for Childe to believe.
"Oh?  I've never heard of that invention before," he tested.
"I guess it's new?  Like the kamera devices they recently developed? Aether has one of those."  You watched as he kept his hands idle at his sides.
"Interesting.  And Aether was the one who told you to say this to me?"  He blocked your path to the fire by placing a hand against the tree that stood behind you.  What a terrible liar you make, ojou-chan.  His friendly smile never left his lips, but it never reached his eyes.  They were cold and demeaning as they examined yours.
"I-I," you stumbled over your words.  "Why are you acting so weird, Childe?" You tried to laugh him off and attempted to duck under his arm.  What to say, what to say! Oh, maybe this'll work?  "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're acting like a schoolboy crushing on one of his friends."
It might have been a wrong move.
He pinned your shoulders to the tree and made sure no one had their eyes on the two of you.  "On the contrary, you began acting strangely the minute I found you today."  Something in his gaze faltered as he replayed your words in his head. Perhaps I am acting like a schoolboy. But I can't help it if I'm infatuated with my target.  His eyes fell to the shimmering necklace resting against your collarbone, and he gently touched it.  "This is new."
"Don't touch that," you slapped his hand away.
"I don't recall you wearing such a genuine cor lapis charm before.  Where'd you get this from?"
"It was my Granny's."
Childe scrunched his nose at the answer, a brief look of internal conflict passing over his face like a cloud.  'Was?' The woman passed? I made sure she wouldn't get hurt by my men.  So then how did she--  He wanted to ask until the realization struck him.  They went to Quince Village after my leaving.  She saw the Fatui there--
You were too enraged to notice him visually fight himself and approached the campsite with an armful of branches.  You made a point to sit next to Xiao and glared at the Harbinger as he returned.
He maintained eye contact with you, even after sitting across the fire from you and the yaksha.  Your pupils seemed to glow from his perspective.  The fire licked the air in between you until all he could make out was the anger in your eyes.  She knows.  He mentally kicked himself, but only partially because of the possible complications this could pose for Signora and her grand plan.  If you were this angry, there was a chance you had told the yaksha.  And if the yaksha saw the Fatui, or at least heard of what you thought happened, then there's a chance he told Mr. Zhongli.  While he could not break the contract with the Tsaritsa, he'd find a way around the stated rules.  He made a fool of Childe once; he could do it again.
Childe didn't care in the slightest about fighting the entire group--though he was a bit afraid of facing the yaksha despite his urge to fight every living thing on Teyvat.  The only thing that mattered to him was you.  And if you were angry enough to fight, vision or not, he'd have to take you by force.  You may hold a special place in his heart, but his feelings for you meant nothing compared to his loyalty for the Tsaritsa.
One chance, the harbinger strengthened his resolve. I'll give her one chance to prove herself.  If she fails, I won't hesitate to take that which will secure Snezhnaya's future.
...................................................................
Several days passed by without incident--
--Is what I'd like to say, but unfortunately, that didn't hold true for you.
Childe and his unrelenting pleas for battles continued to reach your ears day in and day out.  He was the one that was attached to your hip, not Xiao.  You had only realized today that Childe was around you more often than the yaksha ever since he greeted you with a jumpscare at Luhua Pool.  To make matters worse, Xiao neglected to make a move towards him.
She can handle herself, he thought after witnessing the stunts you pulled on Childe.  Xiao recognized that the movements you were using as his own; perhaps there was an upside to you unconsciously peeking in on his memories.  He put himself on standby when he came to the realization.  But make no mistake, he would and will protect you if things got out of hand with the harbinger.  He just figured he'd take a step back and quietly observe his weak points, just like the old days.  The days in which Childe did not pose a serious threat to the group; when all that was between you and the harbinger was harmless bickering.
It would seem like those old days were still fresh to an outsider, but as the days passed by, you were growing increasingly frustrated with Childe's behavior.  After all, how could he continue to play the part of an oblivious comrade, when it was clear as day that the tensions within the group were growing?  How could he even call you a comrade with a straight face? How was it that he felt no remorse for his actions toward Granny when he looked you in the eye?
How was it that he could be so carefree?
Maybe part of you envied him for it.  Your inner grumblings did you no favor in the present moment though; the team had stepped into the western side of Dragonspine.  Your four coats made almost no difference against the sheer cold, and your body shivered uncontrollably even though warmer weather was only a hundred yards behind you.
Everyone except Xiao and Aether wore warm clothes, and it looked like the poor outlander regretted his decision to forego the garments.  Xiao appeared to be unbothered and more energetic than usual.  Childe looked like he was right at home with the weather, his shirt still sloppily unbuttoned to reveal his toned body underneath.  Bennet walked alongside you and was replacing Zhongli for the time being.
Snowflakes lazily floated their way down to earth, but they did nothing to grab your attention when the wind continued to howl against the team's direction.  You caught Xiao letting snow collect in his hand with an almost childlike wonder, but he glared at you when he found you staring.
"I want to find some dragon teeth for a sword and since you haven't been here before I thought it'd be a good idea to show you around," Aether called out to you over his shoulder, his arms crossing over his bare stomach for an ounce of warmth.
"You're insane!"
Aether's laugh mixed with the clattering of his teeth.  "You only live once, right?"  You removed two of your coats and threw them over his head.  "T-t-thanks."
You rolled your eyes despite the fact that you were smiling at him, only for your gaze to lock with Xiao's look of disapproval.  'Mortals are fragile,' you interpreted his frown and giggled.  
"Here we go!" Bennet lit the firepit with his flaming sword and knelt down in front of it.  Everyone joined him;  Aether was especially close to the flames.
"It's kind of annoying to find fire every five minutes," you shivered violently.  "And you practically go up here for fun?"  
"It gets easier the more we do it," Paimon giggled with a nervous smile.  "Besides, we get to mine starsilver and find cool dragon stuff that we can sell--"
"Don't lump me in with you," Aether piped up without moving away from the fire.
The distant sound of a conversation was carried over by a bone-chilling breeze.  "Huh?  Should we go check it out?"  Paimon stared in the direction the vague voices were coming from.
"U-uh-huh," nodded Aether.
The group stumbled over a hill only to find the body cavity of Durin.  While it threw you off, the sight around the remains was what chilled you to the bone.  Of course there's Fatui here, you scoffed.
"I see a tooth over there too,"  Aether whined.
"What's everyone looking at me for?"  Childe let out a nervous chuckle and awkwardly scratched the back of his head.  "These aren't my guys."
"We know," Paimon cooed.
"That's why we want you to go talk to them and let us pass," Aether held the smuggest expression you've ever seen him pull off.
"Uh...I'm not under any jurisdiction to--"
"Do it," you ordered with cold eyes.  When he locked eyes with you, you stood on your tip-toes and spoke in his ear.  "Prove your loyalty to the group."
"My loyalty, ojou-chan," his eyes narrowed significantly, "lies with Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa."
"Uh-oh," Paimon poofed out of existence.
"Uh, guys?  Those Fatui agents are approaching us reeeaal fast," Bennett warned.  
The two of you broke eye contact to find that he was right.  One electro and two geo skirmishers were walking towards the group.  Poofing would be a more accurate description.  Childe gave you a final look before he hopped over a log to greet them.
"Greetings!"  He didn't smile, and the skirmishers stopped in their tracks.
"Master Childe?  We didn't realize you'd be joining us on the mountain."  The three of them knelt out of respect.
"It's a surprise visit, really.  I came to check on your progress--"  The group made their way around the Fatui and Aether yanked the large tooth out of the ground while Childe chattered away with his subordinates.
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