#absolutely exhausted but still capable of killing you

[evilblot]

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Thinking again about the line "I am what you made me" and how it's an example of really thoughtful and quality writing despite what angry fanboys might say because it simultaneously means "You cut me down and watched me burn and left me to die. You did this to me. You made me," and "You and the Jedi Council restricted me and suspected me and failed me and called it teaching. I am who you trained me to become. You made me." It's an attack on Obi-Wan on every front, reinforcing every aspect of his guilt, and beyond that demonstrates to Obi-Wan and the audience that Vader takes absolutely no accountability for his own actions. It's an incredibly clear picture of the depth of the hatred Vader has for Obi-Wan, and all it took was six words. That is how you write.

[sky-fire-forever]

To the people who say that Ed never harmed the Kraken Crew:

I am genuinely so confused by this take. First of all: Ed is shown to be violent even if that's not directed at the Kraken Crew specifically. He threw Lucius overboard and thinks he killed him in cold blood and he tortures Izzy by mutilating him. Even IF he never physically harms Jim, Frenchie, Fang, or Ivan directly, he is still behaving violently. He is killing people and taking out his depression on both Izzy and the innocent people (ish, they're still naval officers) that they are raiding.

Even if Izzy (and Lucius, remember) are the only direct victims of his physical abuse... they are still victims of that abuse? No matter what Izzy has done, be it threaten him, verbally lashing out at him, or even abuse of his own if you interpret it that way justifies how Ed physically takes him apart and makes him EAT parts of himself. That is beyond abuse. That is both physical and mental literal torture

And remember, Lucius was entirely innocent. He was actively trying to HELP Ed and that did not stop Ed from behaving violently towards him.

If you say since we see no signs of Ed abusing the Kraken Crew, I will remind you that the way Ed led the Kraken Crew got Ivan killed. Ivan DIED due to decisions made during Ed's time as captain of The Revenge, likely due to the constant raids making them exhausted and weakening their ability to fight.

We don't know enough about Ivan's death for me to really say that for certain, so it's speculation. But if Ivan died during a raid, the responsibility still falls on Ed's shoulders. He is their captain, it is his job to protect and defend his crew and we are explicitly told that he did not bat an eye when Ivan went down. We even see Ed kill a member of his own crew during his suicide attempt. A crew member falls overboard and we see Fang reach for them. This is directly caused by Ed sailing into that storm.

He points a gun at his crewmates and they have NO IDEA if he's going to shoot him. They're clearly afraid that he might. Fang starts crying and they all tense up. Frenchie expects Ed to kill him when he finds out that he's been hiding Izzy. They are afraid of their captain, they believe he does not care about their lives and that he could kill them at any moment.

This is abuse. I genuinely do not care if it is physical towards anyone but Izzy or not, it is abuse plain and simple. Ed behaves in an abusive manner towards his crew. That abuse actively puts their lives in danger. Constantly forcing them to go on raid after raid after raid for no reward (because he makes them dump the treasure that they believe they are earning for themselves, as Frenchie flat out asks Izzy if they're receiving "their cut") and exhausting them in the process makes them more likely to be killed on the field. Fighting while exhausted and demoralized is fucking difficult!

And before anyone says that's just life aboard a pirate ship, isn't Ed supposed to be better? Isn't he supposed to be better than Hornigold? Even Ed remembers having good times on Hornigold's ship with Jack. And the Kraken Crew appear constantly exhausted and terrified, carving out their own moments of joy just like Ed had to while under Hornigold

I have seen posts claiming that Izzy fans have a disconnect between interpretation of a character and their actual actions, but the lengths I have seen (certain, not all) Ed fans go to to completely absolve Ed of his cruelest actions absolutely baffles me. Like... Ed made Fang kill his dog and that's BEFORE he became the Kraken.

Ed is a dark character. He does twisted shit. Is that not INTERESTING to you? Does it not fascinate you that a man perfectly capable of torturing his crew and driving them harder and harder and harder until some of them die fueled by his own desire to make himself irredeemable STILL at his core is a man who wants nothing more than to be loved? Do you not find it somewhat beautiful and that this man with so much blood on his hands is still told "someone will love you. You are not a monster, but a person despite your cruelty"? Do you not think the story of a man so completely consumed by all he has done realizing that he can not erase the damage of what he did isn't a good tale to tell? Do you think there is a fundamental difference between the man who tells Stede not to kill and the man who has killed for himself?

I feel like stripping him of his horror takes away so much of who he is. So much of what makes him interesting. He CHOOSES to leave Stede's crew on an island to die of exposure or starvation. He CHOOSES to basically kidnap Frenchie and Jim. He CHOOSES to hurt those closest to him in horrible ways

And he chooses to come back from that. Chooses to try to do better. To learn. To grow. To love.

I have issues with season two, but if we had more time to watch Ed come back from this, to see him make amends with the crew he so horribly damaged, I would have thought this was the best arc ever. Redemption stories are my favorite because it shows that everyone is capable of both good and evil. Ed is capable of both too. I really wish people would see his growth for what it is: a man so entrenched in violence with a nonlinear recovery that hurts people and still keeps trying anyway. Rather than someone who never hurts anyone at all

[silence-burns]

Scaramouche (Wanderer): sleep

Fandom: Genshin Impact 

Wanderer didn't require much sleep. He was a puppet, and even though he was as close to a human-like creature as physically possible, he fundamentally wasn't one.

It doesn't mean that he had no need for rest, though. He still needed to metaphorically catch his breath after a fight or an exhausting day of exploration, but it could be done through just sitting down for an hour. Sometimes he closed his eyes too, but since he started traveling with you and Paimon, he preferred to be more aware of his surroundings.

Wanderer often made fun of you and all the puny humans so weak they had to fall completely unconscious for almost half a day. 

He'd still watch over the camp while you sleep - he'd just grow more smug every time you woke up to an already prepared breakfast and he was halfway through a book.

He had nothing else to do during the night, so he often just looked around for a bit and then half rest himself too. It was closer to getting lost in a random thought than a true sleep, but he got used to doing it at night and following your natural rhythm.

The first time you offered him a place in your sleeping bag, he just scoffed and told you to find a better way of getting close enough to kill him. 

Even though he brushed you off with an angry pout on his face, he couldn't help but stare at your sleeping form throughout the night. You always had a strange, ethereal look once you started dreaming. He's never seen you make it during the day. Just one more strange thing about humans. 

Sometimes the dreams you've had were turned into nightmares. Wanderer always noticed. 

He would later deny it, but the amount of times he was clumsy enough to drop something heavy perfectly matched the moments when your nightmares came. He'd be staring impassively at the fire when you suddenly woke up. He avoided your eyes and wouldn't say anything, despite having a perfect opportunity to point out your  weakness.

It was during one of those nights when you woke up suddenly, with your heart beating hard and the blood buzzing in your ears. Wanderer didn't know why you asked him to come to you or why this time he did. 

He felt strange slipping under your covers and feeling the warmth radiating off your body. It was such a difference from his own, almost perfectly imitating a human one, but never able to overcome that issue. He wasn't cold to the touch, but neither was he capable of warming someone up.

Wanderer allowed you to squeeze him tight. He was aware of the human need for physical affection and decided to let it happen just this once. Maybe he just had a good day. Everyone has a good day every once in a while.

So he didn't say anything when you put your face down on his chest and wrapped your arms around him. 

He was relieved by your silence, when his hand started slowly rubbing your back. It was awkward and he felt it deep in his bones, but a feeling he didn't recognize made him continue regardless.

Wanderer knew when you fell back asleep, but didn't move. 

And maybe, just maybe, he brushed his fingertips over your hair.

On the next day, he squeezed in with you into the sleeping bag even though you didn't ask him. 

Of course, he would. The nights were slowly getting colder and he was a puppet. He couldn't create any warmth himself. The least thing a mere human like you could do, was share some of yours. Wanderer would absolutely deny there being any other reason. He'd pinch your cheek, hard, every time you breathed out the word 'affection'.

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Royal Gay AU pt 4

Part 1 can be found here.

Part 2 can be found here.

Part 3 can be found here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"And then your father threw the biggest tantrum because he wanted to be the "princess in distress" for once rather than the hero." Rei said, as she combed your hair. Everyone besides grandpa Enji were in your room at the Palace. Uncle Natsuo was lying on your bed while Fuyumi went through your closet, tutting at all the "old" clothes (old because you'd only worn them once).

You laughed, looking up at Rei. "No way! Dad became a princess?!"

Natsuo scoffed. "He tried! But Fuyumi started choking him. If dad wasn't there to pry her off, she probably would've killed Dabi- OW! FUYUMI!" Fuyumi smiled after pinching Natsuo's arm. They both began bickering right in front of you.

You giggled watching your uncle and aunty being absolute children. "Can I ask you something?"

Rei hummed, kissing your forehead. "Of course, honey. What do you wanna know?"

"What was it like when dad got his quirk?"

The room fell silent. No one talked about quirks, let alone mention the word in front of you. Mainly because you hadn't developed one.

It's quite an anomaly because Dabi has a very powerful fire quirk, and your mother had a strong water quirk. And yet, neither quirk was passed down to you.

It's not uncommon for people to not have quirks. No. But its quite important for the future Queen of the kingdom, and the only heir of King Dabi to have a quirk. Any quirk at all.

Even though most people get their quirks by the age of 7, the kingdom's subjects say that you're just a "late bloomer". They're very hopeful people.

When none of them spoke, you looked at them with a pout. "Oh come on! It's not like I've asked for a kidney! Please tell me-" you looked at Rei and jutted your bottom lip. "-grandma~"you whined.

She sighed. "Alright. I'll tell you." You huddled up next to her on the bed and she began telling the very fond memory of the day Dabi got his quirk. She'll never forget how proud Enji was when he looked at Dabi's blue flames.

Obviously, you felt the pressure of developing a quirk, but it was your grandpa who you wanted to please the most. Even though Enji has never said anything about quirks, and told you that you're perfect and just as capable of ruling as anyone with quirks, you still felt sad that you'd somehow disappointed him.

Not to mention how guilty you feel for your father. I mean, the whole reason Dabi married your late mother was because Enji forced him to, saying that he'll benefit from having a heir with a powerful quirk. Only for him to end up with you- a quirkless child.

It's another thing that none of them will ever allow you to feel guilty, much less say anything depreciating about yourself. Anyone else who says anything but praises, is simply a traitor to the king and must be executed.

The next day, you wake up early to prepare yourself for your small tradition with Enji- hunting. It's just a small interest that you share with your grandpa; whoever finds the prey first, decides what happens to it. If you find it, it's obviously gonna be going in your royal pet sanctuary. If Enji finds it first, it's gonna be dinner.

"So what's today's target?" You asked Enji, your horse walking next to his and his guards staying behind.

"Its a chicken."

"A chicken? Really?"

Enji grinned. "Its a special kind. It's pink and it lays pink eggs. They're quite exquisite."

"Woah- wait, you've ate one before?"

"Hmm. They were a gift from Empress Momo- how is she doing these days?"

You sighed. "I don't know, I haven't gotten letters from her since she doesn't know I'm here. Which is good, because she sends A LOT of letters."

Enji raised a brow. "Really? What does she say?"

Your face scrunched up in frustration. "Its exhausting. She keeps on inviting me to her Palace but she knows dad won't let me stay for a sleepover! She keeps on trying to bribe me with fancy gowns and jewels, but if I'm being honest, I don't even wanna go there myself, even if dad did let me go."

"Oh. Why is that?"

"I don't know... but I'm not comfortable around her. She stares at me- a lot, and she's very short tempered. She always has been. One time when we were kids, I was playing at her place with Katsuki, but I guess I didn't give her enough attention because the next second she was dragging me out of the room and she pinched me a couple of times before locking me in her closet." You laughed. "Izuku and Tomura had to come and save me. Her mom, Empress Miruko was so embarrassed and she was furious at Momo. I'm sure she got a lecture that day."

"Oh I remember that day. Your grandmother was so mad that someone had dared to hurt her grandchild, she wrote a mean letter to the Empress, threatening war if Momo ever did something like this again." Enji smiled, happy that his wife did the right thing. He was glad that Rei is just as protective of you as he is.

You nodded and smiled along, not wanting to tell Enji that Momo did still get angry and vengeful when things didn't go her way. Only instead of pinching your arm, she now pinches your butt... painfully. Like the last time when she made you dress up into something she said was "traditional clothing of the empress's clan" but felt more like something so revealing that Momo's concubines would wear in bed. Anyways, she had you lie on her bed and pose because she wanted to paint you- and Momo was a very skillful painter. She never let's you see the end results though, simply saying that it's bad and she's going to burn it later.

Anyways, when she was painting you, she slowly started getting irritated because apparently you weren't "still" enough for her. So she stalked over to you and pinched your butt hard enough for you to mewl an apology and promise that you'll do better. She let go with a satisfied look on her face, and you've been avoiding going over to her place since.

You decided not to talk that story to anyone because 1. This is not something you tell your grandparents. Harmless little jokes. You know how protective your family is. 2. As weird as she is, Momo is a good friend. And more than that, she's also a good ruler. You look upto her, like a younger sibling would.

"There!" Enji yelled as he saw the chicken run into the woods. He readied his bow and aimed at it, only for his heart to drop when you walked right in the path of his released arrow.

Fortunately, you catched the arrow with you shield- a new trick you'd learned, something that Dabi and Enji both hated because of the scare it gave them, but neither said anything because its good your reflexes are fast enough to catch an enemy's arrow.

Not that they'd ever let you participate in a war.

While you were busy hunting the pink chicken, Tomura had been called by Rei.

"My Queen, Princess Y/n's servant, Tomura is here-" the guard was cut off by Rei motioning for him to let him in.

"Your Highness." Tomura bowed.

"Tomura. Come, I wanted to talk to you." Rei said as she continued stitching an embroidery for your dress. Tomura walked closer.

"Now, I've heard that there's been... some tension between my son and Y/n. What's that about? And don't leave anything out, I'll know."

So... Tomura told her what had happened. From the prank you pulled by burning all of Keigo's clothes, to Dabi punishing you by giving your dead mother's clothes to Keigo, to being scolded for leaving the castle to visit your mother's grave without informing him.

He told her everything, but Tomura was careful not to tell her about "the proposal". That would not be useful to bring up now.

"I see." Rei sighed, tracing the embroidery that Tomura had done on your dress. She never really was fond of concubines. It's not that Keigo has wronged her somehow, it's just the whole concept of having extramarital affairs and sleeping around with these whores that she hates. Its not a jealousy thing, its just that Rei knows how concubines have the power to easiky drive a wedge in a family, willingly or not.

Its one of the reasons why Rei doesn't visit her Dabi very often. Her son has a harem that he will not disintegrate because she said so, and she simply can't bare to see your sad face when he sleeps around with them. That's why Rei tends to invite you to her palace as often as she can. It's too bad that your father is just as possessive of you and not willing to always send you over to hers.

To be honest, Rei can't believe that Dabi would actually put his bed warmer before you.

"I'll have to talk to him, and don't worry, I won't mention your name." Tomura nodded gratefully, before getting up to leave.

"Tomura."

He stopped.

"Thank you. For taking care of Y/n. I hope you will continue to do so."

Tomura gave a reassuring smile. "Till my last breath."

Keigo was straddling Dabi's lap in the throne room when a servant announced Barbarian Bakugo had come. Keigo gave one last kiss to Dabi before shuffling off his lap and standing by the side.

"Let him in."

Katsuki and his fellow barbarians walked inside the throne room and bowed as soon as they wear in front of the King.

"Rise." Dabi rested his head on his hand, looking bored. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Bakugou?" Keigo quietly snickered at the word "pleasure". He knew Dabi didn't like the brash blonde. He was too rough and too loud for them- and for you. He was a barbarian, he simply did not mix well them.

"My King, I brought you some gifts. Just some gems and jewels I got from my... expedition." One of the fellow barbarians brought the chest of jewels to Dabi, who only hummed in partial satisfaction.

"Hmm. And what's that for?" Dabi pointed at the animal behind him.

"Oh these are huskies. I found them in the Arctic. I was gonna kill them and sell their fur, but I thought the Princess would like them instead. And speaking of- where is the Princess?" Katsuki asked, eyes looking around for signs of you, since you'd appear out of thin air if you found an animal in a 1 mile radius.

Keigo finally burst out laughing, and Dabi chuckled a bit as well. Bakugo furrowed his brows as his face reddened. "What?" He didn't understand why they were laughing.

Dabi wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Oh nothing, Bakugo. It's just- I think it's funny you went through all this trouble just to ask where Y/n is. I mean, you only came here because your letters weren't being replied to and you wanted to see whether she's ran away or I've trapped her in the high tower." Dabi smirked as Bakugo's eyes went wide at being caught red handed. "You rarely ever come to see me. So that begs the question-

Are you using me to get to Y/n?"

"No." Bakugou said immediately, a little surprised that he replied without stuttering. "I would never use you, my King. I simply know you hold your daughter the dearest. Pleasing her would please you."

"It would." Dabi replied, eyes still sharp.

"I need your favour to support my clan. You give us support in finance, we give you support in wars. Besides, the princess and I are good enough friends to know our likes and dislikes. If I see something she'll like, I'll bring it. Otherwise she'll wage war on me over a litter of kittens I didn't give her, when she become Queen."

Dabi smiled lazily. "Sounds like my girl." He stood up from his throne. "Y/n is visiting her grandparents. That's why she hasn't been able to answer your letters. She'll return soon, so don't worry."

Bakugo could only watch as Dabi left the throne room, and Keigo began to follow but not before whispering in the blonde's ear.

"I'm only telling you this because you're a good friend of Y/n, and a loyal ally to us- don't think about having any romantic relationship with the Princess. The King will... not support it." Keigo smiled as Bakugo's face showed comprehension of the threat.

"Ah, Keigo. You're back." Dabi said as he signed off on some official documents.

"I am. And with a letter." Keigo waved the envelope with royal seal. "From your mother."

Dabi took the letter from him and broke the seal open hurriedly. It's been a few days since he last heard from you, he's excited to see what you've been up to.

He sat back on his chair while Keigo began pouring him some wine. But when he turned around, instead of seeing joy on Dabi's face, he saw confusion before his face contorted to anger.

"What's wrong?" Keigo inquired, walking over to his lover's side but Dabi stood up and threw the letter down.

"How dare she?" Dabi whispered, disbelief and hurt swirling in his eyes, but fury overpowered any and all feelings. Keigo picked up the letter as Dabi paced back and forth. "How dare she use my mother against me? How dare she tell her lies and portray me as the bad guy?"

Keigo furrowed his brows in confusion. "I don't understand-"

"Y/n told mom about the clothing incident, Keigo! She did it on purpose because she knows mom doesn't approve of you, and she's using her to turn me against you!"

The winged man shook his head. "No, no. Y/n wouldn't do that, you know she isn't one to air our dirty laundry. You know she would never make our problems known to the world-"

"How naive could you possibly be, Keigo?" Dabi said with an apathetic laugh. "She hates you and she hates me. She's stopped calling me "dad", suddenly acting like she's only a royal subject, and the moment she goes to her grandparents, she cries to them about all the "terrible stuff" we've done to her."

Keigo remained silent, its no use talking to Dabi once he's made his mind.

"So what are you gonna do about it? Your mother has asked you to go there and make up with your daughter. I'll start packing your-"

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'll write her a letter. And I'll write one Y/n too."

"So, how does it feel losing to a young girl?" You grinned as you ate dinner.

Enji smiled. "Amazing. Just goes to show what an amazing ruler you'll be one day." He said before putting more food on your plate.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetie!" Rei praised from across the table, before smacking her spoon on Enji's hand. "And I can't believe you'd made her chase a bird, Enji! What if she'd tripped and fell!?"

Enji just nodded along and even gave a small apology just to soothe his wife, giving her palm a kiss, making Rei blush and stop being mad at Enji.

You wished your parents were like this.

Speaking of, a servant came with letters in his hand. He gave most of them to Enji, 3 to Rei, and 1 was addressed to you.

"Oh who's it from?" Rei inquired.

You recognised his seal. "Its from Dad."

Rei and Enji smiled warmly at you. Tomura had told you that Rei was going to try and mend your relationship with your father, even though you initially thought it was a bad idea because you didn't want Dad to think you went and snitched to grandma. But seeing his letter, you suppose perhaps things were going to get better.

"Well go on, darling. Open it! In fact, I got one from him too, so lets open it together." You broke the seal and began reading, as Rei read hers.

But soon, you were both frowning at the words. "What? What's wrong?" Enji asked Rei. "He declined my invitation, said he'll handle things himself." She whispered, Dabi rarely ever declined when Rei invited him. When they both looked at you, you had tears in your eyes.

"Y/n? Doll? Say something, you're worrying us-" but you quickly got up and threw the letter in the fireplace before rushing out of the room as tears fell free from your eyes.

Enji and Rei could only share a worried look as they realise that things between you and Dabi mai have gotten worse.

You'd fled to your room crying your heart out. How could your own father doubt you? How could he think so low of you? Did he really think you'd go to grandma and try to turn her against him? Does he not know you at all?

It's probably his whore who's been spewing shit against me.

But then again, shouldn't your own father be able to defend you? You can only blame Keigo to an extent, because deep down, you know your father isn't one to be easily manipulated.

You quickly wiped your tears when you heard someone knock on your door.

"Come in."

Tomura walked in and bowed. "Princess, should I prepare for your day out tomorrow with Prince Natsuo-"

"No. Pack our stuff. We're going back home tomorrow." You said curtly. Tomura only nodded as he walked over to your closet and began pulling put your clothes, pretending not to notice your dried up tears.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, and even though he was facing away from you, you could feel like Tomura was watching you, yet he didn't ask what was wrong. He always knew not to make you uncomfortable.

"Tomura?"

"Yes, princess?"

"Grandma and grandpa will be... upset because of our sudden departure. I need you to make up an excuse."

Tomura nodded. "I could say that you have an important guest coming and you need to attend to them."

You hummed. "Yes, that'll be good. Make sure our entourage is ready to leave tomorrow, but don't let word get out that we're leaving. I'll tell grandma and grandpa at breakfast."

"Of course. You need not worry."

You looked at your hands as Tomura swiftly packed your clothes.

"Tomura I-" you quieted down as you didn't know how to explain to him what was happening.

"You don't owe me an explanation, princess." He smiled reassuringly and you let out the breath of relief.

Unbeknownst to you, Tomura knows what has upset you. He's already read your letter before you, and he resealed it when you read it. He's been doing it for years, so it's not that hard.

He doesn't feel guilty about it either. He views it as taking care of you. Its his job to protect you after all.

Even if it means protecting you from your father.

"I'm sorry for cutting our time so short." You said as you hugged your grandparents.

"We underst-" Enji was cut off by Rei.

"Its because of Dabi, isn't it? He's telling you to go back. That- that- that concubine of his must've-"

"We understand." Enji repeated, squeezing Rei's hand. He knows you're covering for Dabi with that "some important guest that needs my attendance" excuse, but he'll play along because he feels like Rei might've made things worse between you two.

They both kissed your cheeks and waved along with half the kingdom (who started to cry at your sudden departure but Enji shut them all up with one dark look) and you boarded the ship. Although you did come to the kingdom by the woods, you decided to return by water since the sea route would be the fastest way home, and speed was something you needed at the moment since Dabi had threatened to drag you back home. That's not what scared you. What scared you was the fact that he'd bring his whore along and then the whole kingdom would see your father places his slut above his daughter. And you simply wouldn't bare the humiliation.

"Where is she?" Dabi asked, pacing around his room as he wondered what new stunt you're trying to pull now. Did you not get his letter? Did you not understand his warning?

Keigo got up from the bed and hugged him from behind. "Dabi~" he kissed his ear. "Calm down. She should be here soon. There's no need to get angry at her-"

"Its been 5 days since I sent her that letter. She should've been here this morning."

"Maybe they're taking breaks along the way-"

"Then they should've been here now! At dinner!"

Keigo sighed. "Maybe she left late from your parents. You know they like to keep her later than usual."

Dabi narrowed his eyes. "Then she should've come up with an excuse. How will she ever rule this kingdom, if she can't even say no to people?"

"Dabi... dont let your anger get the better of you. She's a child, and she left completely pissed with us. I don't think it'll do us any good if we start scolding her for being late the moment she returns." Keigo said, rubbing his hands across Dabi's chest, smiling as he finally calmed down.

"Thank you." Dabi said, kissing the blonde. "How are you so calm though? Usually, it's you who's panicking all around?"

Keigo grinned. "You panicked enough for both of us. Also- I'm very drunk right now. I was way more worried about Y/n, so I drank. And drank, and drank."

Dabi chuckled, letting Keigo pull him back to bed and in for another round.

The entire palace was in shambles the next morning, servants running up and down, guards disappearing into thin air whenever they saw a glimpse of Dabi or Keigo.

Why?

Because you still weren't home.

Dabi and Keigo had woken up the next morning, expecting you to be waiting at breakfast for them and giving them loads of hugs and kisses for your time apart, maybe even apologise for being so distant.

Instead, Dabi broke the ceramic plate on the servant's head who informed them you hadn't returned. Fortunately, the poor servant escaped before Dabi threw his knife at him.

Now Dabi and Keigo left for Todoroki Kingdom with an army. Keigo prayed that they'd see you on the way, because if not, they'll have to ride all the way to his parents, and he has a feeling things will not go well there.

They arrived in Todoroki Kingdom by the next day, taking absolutely no breaks or stops, and no one had even seen your or your caravan on the way back.

The people werent expecting their former prince, but they all erupted in cheers at the sight of Dabi. Keigo could practically feel the death stares of the public as he rode behind Dabi. Guess they still hate him here.

But Dabi didn't bother waving to the people this time. No, he rode his horse towards the castle with a dark look on his face, silent fury on his face that screamed not to get in his way.

Enji and Rei were barely able to come to the stairs to greet him, as royal protocol states, but Dabi only walked past them and into the castle, calling your name loudly.

"Dabi- Dabi! What is the meaning of this?!" Rei asked, not impressed that he'd dropped royal protocol and didn't bother greeting them. It's a good thing he towers over her now, or else Rei would've pulled his ear.

"Where is she?" Dabi interrogated. "Where is she hiding? Where is my daughter?!"

Rei and Enji shared a confused look with each other. "I- what do you mean? Y/n left days ago."

Dabi narrowed his eyes. "Really? Then how come no one saw her in the woods going back?"

Rei chuckled. "Why of course they didn't see her! She left by the sea!" Dabi's eyes widened at that.

"What did you say?" Rei didn't understand Dabi's confusion, or the worried look on Enji's face.

"Hey- what's- what's wrong? She boarded the ship, we saw her leave-"

"Rei, the sea is the fastest route back. Y/n should've been back days ago." Rei's face dropped at Enji's explanation.

Dabi all but ran out of the castle, with his parents calling him.

"Wait, let us help-"

"You've done enough!" Dabi yelled as he climbed his horse and raced out of there, Keigo and the army following him.

They soon reached the docks and Dabi began yelling at the merchants to give him their ship. He was gonna find you himself.

Keigo had to physically halt Dabi and ask him what was going on.

And for the first time, he saw fear in Dabi's eyes. "She left by the sea, Keigo." The blonde's own breath hitched. You're 4 days too late. "I'm going after her, maybe- maybe they got lost- or in the middle of a battle with pirates-"

"Dabi, no. No, don't say that. She's fine- Our Y/n is fine. I-" He took a deep breath, clearing his mind. "You're going to check the waters, trace her route back home. I'll go through the woods again, I'll fly! Maybe she decided to take another route. We'll find her, Dabi. Repeat after me."

Dabi nodded. "Yes. We'll find her."

Keigo flew high and low, for hours in the heat and in the rain for any sign of you.

But it was all for naught.

When he returned home, he knew Dabi was back. But when the servants pointed him to the direction of the chapel, he knew bad news was coming from the gloomy looks on everyone's faces.

Keigo could feel his own heart beat as he walked towards the Chapel, the Holy place that he'd never seen Dabi ever come to. It was mostly for you to go, you liked to pray, often for your mother.

God, please don't let her be-

"Dabi?" Keigo's small voice echoed in the empty hall, but it was... haunting to see Dabi on his knees at the altar, his hands joined and head down in prayer.

He walked over to him, and Dabi finally looked up when Keigo placed his hand on his shoulder. "Dabi?" Keigo's heart sank at the sight of him. The King had tears running down his cheeks, his eyes red and hair dishevelled.

"Where... Where is Y/n?"

As beautiful as Dabi's lashes looked heavy with tears, they closed as his eyes scrunched up in pain.

"The ship... it sank." Dabi whispered the last part. "It sank, Keigo. A terrible storm had met them the day they left. The tides rode high, the ship hit something, and in a matter of seconds, the entire thing toppled over."

Keigo could feel his entire world crashing. The worst thing that could've happened- happened, a parents worst nightmare had came to life.

Their child dies.

But perhaps it was an angel, a blessing that made Keigo ask a question.

"Who told you this?"

Dabi looked at him in confusion. "What? I saw the ship wreck with my own eyes, Keigo."

There was a moment of silence.

"Did you see any bodies?"

"What?"

"Did you see any bodies?"

"No, I didn't find Y/n's-"

"Dabi, did you find any body?" Keigo asked, and Dabi looked only more confused. "Dont you see? How come there were no bodies? No survivors? If there was a storm to come, the Todoroki Kingdom has raised fine sailors, and Enji must've sent Y/n off with the most skilled captain and ship, and he would've definitely been able to not only detect the storm from miles away, but he would've safely maneuvered the ship through the storm too."

Hope began returning in Dabi's eyes. "I bet if we go back to the ship wreck, we won't be able to find any trace of anyone ever getting hurt or any distress. I bet that the only thing missing from the ship would be the small craft boats." Keigo said, watching as Dabi's senses began working again.

"You're right." Dabi said. "You're goddamn right! There were no bodies and no life boats! So they were most likely attacked and taken hostage!"

"Yeah, and you do have a lot of enemies. So you best start working on who has our baby."

Dabi smiled and nodded, kissing the blonde before they both left the chapel with renewed hope and determination.

Even though deep down, they knew this was all just speculation. But for their own sanity, and safety of others, they needed this false sense of hope.

You woke up to the sun hitting your face. All you remember was boarding the ship, then Tomura brought lunch and some special tea, and then your memory is hazy after that. And now you were in a boat.

You looked around and found you were lying in Tomura's lap, his arms securely around you, and your feet were in a maids lap, who was gently massaging them.

You pulled your feet away hastily, which caught everyone's attention. And that's when you saw your boat and two more boats, all filled with your entourage, who were currently bowing at you.

"I- Tomura, what's the meaning of this?" You asked getting off his lap and sitting opposite to him.

"Princess, this is part of the plan. Don't you remember?"

Oh the plan! The plan you'd been formulating for a long time, with letters to Emperor Kai for help and all. The plan to get away from Dabi and his murdering concubine for a while, or longer, until Davi realises your importance and that you've been telling the truth. And if he doesn't and continues to choose Keigo over you, then you're gone indefinitely.

"Of course, I remember. I meant, where are we right now?"

Tomura pointed ahead, where you could see the shore. "We're near. The land is here. Let's get off this boat, and then a brisk walk into the woods, we'll find him."

You nodded and then walked close to him, holding his hand as your knights and servants surrounded you and guarded you.

It was the first time you'd seen cherry blossoms, near the sea, but there were so many around you and it was kind of surreal. It was breathtaking actually, and you tried to take in your surroundings as much as you could. After all, cherry blossoms were your mother's favourite trees. She often talked about them, even asked Dabi if she could plant some, but he refused.

After about 20 minutes, you saw him. You squeezed Tomura's hand.

"Tomura... that's not Emperor Kai."

But Tomura only gave you a reassuring smile, as did the man in front of you. He had an army of knights behind him, all eagerly waiting for the next order.

The man got off his horse and began walking towards you. He stopped when you backed up a bit. That's when Tomura spoke.

"Princess, I introduce you to his royal Highness, King AFO. Your grandfather."

You blacked out for a second.

"W-what?" You looked back and forth between the two men. The more you looked at the king and his army, the more you recognised some familiar elements. Like the colours your mother always wore, or the little flag she kept hidden in her room, only you were able to see it.

"I-" you let out a small gasp before bowing down quickly. How could've you forgotten protocol!?

The King chuckled as he pulled you up by your shoulders, his eyes scanning your face as they memorised your features, his hand gently cupping your cheek.

"You're just like her." His eyes were full of tears, as were yours when you realised he was referring to your mother.

"I- I don't- I don't understand." You furrowed your brows. "If you're my grandfather, then why didn't you ever come to visit? Or even sent a letter?"

He smiled sadly. "I tried to my dear, many times. But your father wouldn't let me. Each time I tried to establish some form of contact with you, he'd put my efforts down. But then he threatened- he threatened to wage war." AFO looked down. "I didn't care about the blood loss that it would cause but I was afraid- I was afraid he'd do something terrible to you, just like he did to my daughter."

Your eyes widened. Did dad actually do that? It's no surprise that he hated your mother and anything associated with her, so he mightve kept you from your maternal grandfather. Hell, the only reason Dabi kept you around was likely because you were his only heir.

"You're all that's left of her." AFO continued. "That's why I sent all of them to look after you. They've all watched you grow, and I was content knowing they kept you safe. Especially with Tomura." He said, referring to your entourage. You looked at all of them. Come to think of it, they all really have been around for as long as you could remember.

"Once Tomura informed me that you wanted a break from your father, I knew I had to reach out to you again. I know you wanted to go to Emperor Kai's, but please give me a chance. Its been more than a decade since I last saw you." AFO pleaded, holding your hands.

"I-" you looked around, and you saw they were all looking at you with hope. You then looked at Tomura, and he nodded, but it was his eyes that spoke.

It's okay, I'll keep you safe.

So you took a deep breath and a small prayer, and looked at the king.

"Okay."

So, how was this?

Did you guys like the classic angsty move of running away that reader pulled? What are your thoughts on Empress Momo being a sadistic yandere? How will everyone react to reader's absence? Especially Katsuki? Will the parents go insane?

What do you think is gonna happen next?

[bhaal-baby]

Just a bit of Astarionx GN! Dark Urge angst. Hope you enjoy!

Sleep refused to take you. 

You tossed, and you turned, counting backward from one hundred and back again, and still, you lay there, staring at an endless sky, exhausted and frustrated. You blamed the rock you’d accidentally placed your bedroll on for the night, or the slight chill in the air that caused your sore muscles to groan in protest, or Gale’s incessant snoring that you were going to have words about in the morning. But you knew in your heart that none of those things had anything to do with it. 

It probably had more to do with the fact that only a few nights ago, you nearly murdered the man you love. 

Every time you closed your eyes, you saw yourself waking up covered in blood and viscera. Dazed, confused, and most disturbingly, satisfied, the same way it had been with that poor bard back in the grove. Only this time, the blood on your hands would be even more precious. You imagined white hair, stained red, and a bloodied pale face, lifeless and still. You imagined the bravado with which he carried himself would fade away in death, his meticulously kept walls crumbling as your blade ripped through him. Would he look at you in hatred in those last moments, or would those crimson eyes be filled with only terror? 

He is so, so afraid. Of everyone, besides you, who he ought to fear most. 

You shuddered violently, blinking away the terrible thoughts that plagued you. Sighing, you stood up. If sleep wasn’t an option, you may as well take a walk to try and clear your head, and patrol the perimeter of your campsite, ensuring the safety of your traveling companions that had become so much like family. It was ironic, you thought, given that you were probably the biggest threat to their well-being as they slept peacefully by your side. You wondered not for the first time if it was selfishness that kept you traveling with them. Your companions were strong enough to stop the Absolute on their own. You knew that. They would all be safer without one who kills in their sleep and battles the dark thoughts that you do. 

“Going somewhere?” 

Astarion stood just a few feet behind you. One of these days, you swore you were going to put a bell around his neck. He was far too good at sneaking up on you. 

“I thought you were asleep.” replied nonchalantly. 

 “An attempt was made, but truthfully, I’m still getting used to sleeping at night.” He shrugged. “When I saw you sneaking out of bed, I thought I’d tag along and make sure you weren’t off to sate some of your more bloodthirsty desires.” 

His words sent your heart into your stomach. He must have noticed your gaze fall to the ground because he added. “Really, as long as your knife isn’t to my throat, I’m not too concerned.” 

You knew that was meant to soften the blow that he never meant to land. Still, it hurt to be reminded of what he thought you were capable of. Not that he was wrong. You couldn’t explain your murderous nights any better than he could, but a part of you wished he never had to see you like that, let alone nearly becoming one of your victims. He had been so kind to you the other night, even as you writhed against his bonds, desperate to make minced meat of his pretty face. He had told you then that he didn’t hate you for what you’d done, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he saw you differently because of it. 

You decided to change the subject. “I’m going for a quick walk. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.” 

“Ah yes, a quick nighttime jaunt through shadow-cursed lands. Splendid idea. Do you think some of those wretched shadows will invite us to tea?” 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “We won’t stray far from camp.” You sighed. “I just need to clear my head.” 

Something that looked like concern flashed across his features. “Of course, I’ll join you. Maybe we’ll even sneak in a cuddle afterward.” 

His flirting rarely phased you anymore, though you were often unsure of his sincerity, even after the nights you’d spent together. You could tell that, to some extent, it was simply something he hid behind. He must have found it easier to be the charming man who could lure anyone with eyes into his bed than what he really was. You saw the hurt and the fear behind it all, even if he didn’t want you to. And after the other night, you knew with certainty that he was capable of so much kindness. Not many people would do what he did for you the night your urges almost took his life. 

He walked beside you silently for a while. You weren’t sure what to say to the man when thoughts of accidentally butchering him kept you awake. You plopped down on a fallen tree, motioning for him to join you. You could still see the faint glow of the dwindling campfire a ways away, but walking was doing nothing for your nerves. 

It was nice just sitting with him for a moment. Without words, without touch. Just being in his company lit something inside of you. He tilted his head towards the starless sky and you took the opportunity to look him over. He was beautiful, that was certain. In the moonlight, he looked like a statue, something carved by the most skilled hand.

“Something is on your mind,” Astarion observed, catching you staring.

You scoffed. “You mean besides our impossible task of saving the entire sword coast from the Dead Three? Or the tadpole burrowed in my brain waiting for an opportunity to turn me into a mindflayer?” 

Astarion leveled you with a knowing look. “Yes, besides the obvious. Now tell me what it is you’re stewing over in that pretty head of yours.” 

You didn’t know how to answer him, but he deserved something from you. “I just wanted to thank you. For the other night.” You stared at your boots, sighing deeply. You could feel your cheeks warming. The words didn’t do it justice, but you didn’t know how else to show him what his actions meant to you. 

He looked taken aback for a moment. “Oh. You needn’t thank me for that. It’s not as if I wanted to meet my grisly end at your hand anyway.” 

You caught his gaze, fighting the hurt that threatened to well up inside you. “But it was more than that.” You protested. “When you had me tied up, you could have killed me. You probably should have. You would all be safer that way.” 

Astarion’s easy expression morphed into one of shock. “I wouldn’t – I couldn’t.” He stumbled over his words, for once seeming unsure of how to react. He took a deep breath. “I meant what I said, you know. We’ll find a way to save you.” 

Your heart clenched at the look on his face. It was softer than usual, almost vulnerable. You fought the tears welling in your eyes. “But at what cost?” It was almost a whisper. “How many innocent lives will I take before then? What if I hurt you?” 

Astarion took your hand in his, and lifted it to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the top of it. “I won’t let that happen.” 

The gesture sent a pang through you and the tears began to fall but he continued. “You are the first person I’ve ever truly cared for and I am not going to let this take you from me.” 

The sincerity of his words struck you. He meant that. He cared about you. Maybe as much as you cared about him. Maybe more, because if you truly cared about him that much you’d go far, far away so he could be safe. “Astarion, none of that will matter if I kill you. You can care all you want until my blade finds its way into your throat and then that’s it.” The words came out harsher than you wanted but you knew you were right. He wasn’t safe with you. 

“I am not afraid of you.” he said, reassuringly squeezing your hand. 

You jerked your hand away suddenly. You didn’t miss the way he flinched as you did so. The man had been through too much to die by the hand of the one he cares about most. “You should be.” 

 You stood up, turning to leave, when his hand shot out to grab your arm. You tried to shrug it off but he held tight. “You don’t get to decide that for me.” he hissed. His voice was harsh and almost angry but when you turned to look at him you could see the hurt in his eyes. “If you don’t want me, that’s fine. But don’t you dare pretend that walking away from this is somehow for my benefit. I may not be entirely free yet, but for the first time in centuries I can make my own choices, and I’ll be damned if you take that away from me.”

You opened your mouth, stunned by the desperation on his face. You couldn’t find the words to say. You’d only wanted to protect him but instead, you’d hurt him by being self-righteous and overbearing. You had no right to tell this man, who’d known only slavery for centuries, what to do. “I– I’m sorry.” you choked out, taking a step towards him. “I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, unsure what to say. 

Astarion’s face softened, tugging you nearer to him. “Please,” he breathed, placing a hand under your chin and lifting your gaze to meet his. “Let me stand by you through this. We don’t even know if we’ll live through tomorrow with how things have been going. I don’t know what this is, or how it will end, but I know that I want to try.” 

You could only nod, else the sob that had been building escape your throat. 

Astarion looked at you and smiled, that charming smile that you were helpless to before leaning down and kissing you softly. It wasn’t like the other times you’d kissed, lustful and frantic, tasting your own blood in his mouth. It was gentle and lingering and spoke of a longing neither of you had the words for. 

When his lips left yours, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you tightly. “Now, how about that cuddle?” 

Thank you for reading! Do let me know if you prefer this Y/N style fic or if a third person gender neutral "Tav" would be better! I was really torn on which way to write this.

[sadlybeans]

No More Batman AU Part 4: The Prodigal Son

AO3 Link || Part 1, 2 & 3

Dick could pretend all he wanted and play at being a strong, reliable hero, but he wasn’t.

Nightwing had become a beacon of what any new member of the Justice League could aspire to be, standing next to the founding members after winning his own place and not as a replacement to Batman after his retirement. He had worked hard to be the person everyone could rely on, and in turn he had won many wonderful friends that would undoubtedly give everything for him if he just asked— But Dick Grayson? Dick Grayson was a coward.

Dick Grayson was scared to death every day when he didn’t have his siblings in sight, anxiety building up on his chest until he could call or visit to see them, make sure they were safe, they were home, they were alive. He had lost every drop of courage the day he returned home only to be told his little brother had been killed. There wasn’t a single day since those news that he didn’t feel fear, even if he knew his little siblings were strong and capable on their own.

But… well. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid for Damian, or of what he could do.

Dick had started his vigilante career as a child of all of nine years old when his rage was too much to contain and Bruce had lost every battle to keep him home. He had trained with and against many people and he had grown so much that it was said he had long ago surpassed Batman, and yet— yet he felt that Damian was almost, just almost, as good as him.

Damian, the fifteen year old child that had just been dropped on their doorstep a couple months ago. Damian, who refused to acknowledge their presence most days, who swore in expletives that scandalised even Alfred, and who was a trained and seasoned assassin. Damian, who could heal inhumanely fast, who could see in the dark and move without sound, and who had broken Tim’s arm in three with two strikes too fast for any of them to stop.

He was just a kid who shouldn’t have been in their business -much like none of Dick’s siblings should be- yet he was proficient in many of Bruce’s and Dick’s techniques, and he was unfairly fast in learning amidst a fight… Dick had tried setting him up against Cass, and had thought it worked for a moment… until he learnt to use her own moves and set them equally until they were both exhausted. He had mopped the floors with Tim and Steph, and then almost defeated Dick all in a row.

When Tim had asked sarcastically if that was all he had, Damian had frowned as he opened and closed his fist.

“I’m still adjusting to fight without weapons”

A frightening phrase that had made them all fall silent, and then he had to ask cautiously if he’d like to spar with wooden swords. He could’ve sworn Damian almost brightened to that suggestion, but it was such a quick expression he couldn’t be sure. He then picked a katana and won. Against everyone.

And so, after an entire week of testing, they sat in the batcave and Bruce took a deep breath as he stared at all his children, and Dick for once didn’t know how to feel knowing that there was absolutely no excuse to not let Damian out onto the field.

“It’s… clear that your mother trained you well” he started.

“She didn’t” Damian interrupted immediately “Mother had tutors for me, but baba made me better“

Dick mentally filed another tick for concern on his thoughts about Damian’s mysterious baba.

“Right” B cleared his throat “your baba trained you well, I admit that you’re strong enough— But!” the boy scowled and he continued “Things here are not like you’re used to and….”

“I’ve been told on your family’s stand on killing. It’s stupid, but I’m willing to play along” he grunted reluctantly.

Bruce stared at him, and so did Tim and Dick, but there was no trace of deceit in him. For all his intensity and temper, he wasn’t really the type to lie as they had learnt, so Dick was inclined to believe him this time.

“… Very well. You can’t be Robin”

“You have said that already” Damian rolled his eyes “I’ll take another name”

That is certainly not the point, and none of them were comfortable with him being out there when they didn’t even know why he wanted to.

Things in Gotham had gone downhill when Jason died, and when Batman was put into the case that stood next to Robin, it was up to everyone else to keep the order in the city. They’d done a good job of keeping up the illusion, of pretending Batman still existed, but those who knew him well knew the truth… Joker hadn’t escaped in ten years, not since a week after Jay died and Nightwing beat him half to death before tossing him in Arkham. But now the asylum was on high alert, and a certain clown was said to be in a good mood after those photos of Robin were leaked.

The news had exploded and the topic was trending online, hence why Damian was actually needed despite their reluctance; he was the only one that fit the build and size, and who could also perfectly replicate Jason’s body language as terrifyingly confirmed by the photos and footage. They didn’t look that much alike and Damian’s skin was darker, but the pictures were taken at night and from far off, nobody could spot the difference unless he was close enough and standing still.

“Can you promise that you’ll be careful and follow Dick’s rules?”

The boy frowned.

“I’m not a child, I know what to do”

“We already discussed this, it’s my way or nothing”

“… Fine, I promise” he said in a grunt, crossing his arms across his chest. “Any other ridiculous demands?”

“You never patrol alone, ever” Bruce held up a hand before he could protest “that’s a rule all of them follow, not only you”

He didn’t look any more happy but nodded.

“And one last thing… you’re going to need to learn the ropes of how this works, and Dick can’t supervise you all the time. For obvious reasons, I don’t believe anybody else is qualified to supervise you, so after talking it through with Clark… Superboy is going to be your partner whenever Nightwing is not available”

Damian didn’t say anything, no immediate explosion of anger, nothing. They all waited with baited breath as he just stared at Bruce.

“He’s a child” he finally replied, with actual bafflement in his voice.

“Jon is thirteen, yes, but he’s been in the business for longer than you, and he’s kryptonian. It’s safer”

“So I don’t kill him”

“Safer for both of you”

“No, you really just want to prevent me from killing him because I don’t have access to kryptonite at the moment”

“I… Like to believe you would not attempt to kill a child”

Damian shook his head in disbelief and Tim pushed past Dick.

“Are you serious, B!? Jon’s way too good for him, it’s not safe! Why not— hell, if you want him to be supervised by a kryptonian then Kon might be able to!”

Bruce sighed deeply.

“Supernova is as busy as you are, son. And there is an undeniable advantage on Damian being around a boy his own age, it will raise less suspicion”

“B, this is madness!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea….”

Slowly they all started to argue and Bruce tried to appease Steph, Tim and Duke, with Cass staying silently frowning in the background and Dick letting himself fall seated on the chair next to the computer, exhausted both physically and mentally. Damian didn’t look too upset but he was definitely over the whole conversation and completely tuned it out, moving through a couple sword forms with his wooden katana. God… when had things fallen apart this bad?

A phone rang in the silence and Damian turned his head towards the computer, where his burner phone rested. Dick’s eyes widened and slowly the discussion died down as the teen crossed the room and picked it up, looking down at the screen for a second before he answered it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you ungrateful little brat!?”

Dick fully winced at the furious voice that hollered at the other side, audible in the sudden dead silence of the cave. Damian looked wholly unimpressed, and he wasn’t sure if to think that was stupid or brave.

“I’m fitting in, like you said I should. Wayne has agreed to let me patrol with them”

Damian please, don’t you have any self preservation instincts? Why are you talking to your father like this? Damian, I beg you—

“If you so much as step a single foot out on the streets on patrol I WILL DRAG YOU BACK kicking and screaming if I have to!”

“Ok”

“You have no idea of—! … What?”

Damian’s lips turned into a smug smirk and Dick gaped at him.

“I said ok. You can come drag me back inside the house”

Oh.

Oh, this sneaky little brat… It was such a simple trap but it worked. This mysterious “baba” of his obviously wanted nothing to do with the bats -so far their leading theory was that he didn’t want to risk getting arrested-, which was why he couldn’t check on Damian personally, but if the boy did something so reckless that he wouldn’t approve of, something he knew only he would be able to stop… then he had no choice but to come to Gotham and set him straight.

“Damian Al-Ghul, you know exactly why I don’t want you out playing superhero” the man hissed in a low dangerous tone.

“I know” the teen agreed calmly “and it’s not going to stop me. I didn’t want you to go either and you didn’t listen to me”

“I’m the adult in this relationship you little shit, you don’t get to make demands”

“Well you gave me away so it’s not up to you anymore!” And he hung up. He turned off the phone and turned away to stare directly at Bruce. “When can I go out, then?”

Fuck…. Dick seriously needed a drink.

Robbing a store in Gotham was frighteningly easy, as long as you didn’t run across a very pissed off owner or a vigilante. But hey, Mark was very sure that none of the Bats patrolled that area at that hour, giving him a window of time to act and leave silently without anybody being disturbed.

After emptying the safe and putting a few semi valuable items in his backpack he sighed and turned around towards the door, and nearly had a heart attack right there and then, a strangled yelp coming out of his mouth. There was… god, that was a new one!

The figure was perched atop a car at the other side of the narrow street, crouched and staring directly into him through the soulless white eyes. They wore a black hood that obscured most of their face, but the bat cowl they wore was still visible and the ears poked out of it, easily making them identifiable. The rest of the suit was mostly black and red, with a somewhat childish touch on it that gave it a creepy vibe; the chunky boots of a bright red that matched the knee and elbow pads, the crimson palms of the black gloves, and the bright bat on their chest. Something about this miniature Batman reminded Mark of… of Robin, whose pictures had been supposedly taken not long ago.

Fuck, no, it couldn’t be him! Robin had died ten years ago, this was impossible—

The figure stood from his crouch and jumped down to the pavement to start making his way over, and Mark screamed in terror.

New Vigilante in Gotham! Could This Be Robin!?

Dick folded the newspaper and sighed, looking up to the many screens of the computer again. The media had been in a frenzy the entire week, and the internet was blowing up even more. Hardcore fans had dug up every single video and photo they had of Robin from ten years ago and were comparing them side to side with little Batman, and incredibly… they were thoroughly convinced that they were one and the same, which had sparked an avalanche of theories as to how had he come back from the dead, and why so late. If any of them had been skeptical about Damian’s ability to imitate Jason, then their doubts had been eliminated— hell, he could do it so well that he had added details not even Dick or Bruce could remember until they rewatched old footage to compare.

In just his first night the new Batman had turned the city upside down, and so far after a week of continuous work, he seemed to be doing just fine… which was why now, Bruce wanted them to focus on finding that mysterious ‘baba’.

Damian was still not aware of their active investigation, but either way they had found absolutely nothing, not even Babs had managed to dug up any evidence or record, and it didn’t help that the info they had was severely limited to little facts the youngest Wayne dropped here and there.

“I don’t think we’ll find shit” Tim declared next to him, grumpily staring at the nth file they had on the League of Assassins. “We don’t even know what this man looks like”

Dick let out a long sigh and leaned back on his chair as another article popped up on screen, one mentioning the date of Robin’s death, and a vague memory popped up in his head.

“Hey Timmy, do you remember I told you about that kid I ran into at the faire?” he asked quietly as he straightened back up.

“Yeah, the rude little shit that didn’t even say thank you”

“…. I think that was Damian”

Tim finally looked up and frowned.

“What?”

Dick nodded as he turned to look at him with wide eyes, now remembering clearly.

“He was wearing sunglasses so I didn’t see his eyes, but the skintone and face shape is the same, and he was wearing his black hoodie that day, I’m a hundred percent positive it was him”

And come on, the way he talked was a dead giveaway too.

“Dick, why is this relevant?” his poor little brother asked in annoyance.

“Because I saw his dad too!” he declared triumphantly at last, grinning like a mad man, before he turned to the computer and started typing frantically “I couldn’t see his face either, he wore sunglasses and a mask, but he was tall— hell, I think he’s taller and broader than Bruce. And he— he had white hair, I remember I saw white hair beneath his hood”

Tim scrunched up his nose.

“He’s old….? But that can’t be, his voice sounds way too young… dyed hair?”

“Possibly. It would make sense if he doesn’t want to be recognised”

It was a small trail, but a trail nonetheless. With those small identifiers they could check across the security feed of thousands of cameras in Gotham, and narrow the search to big tall men with white hair that had been spotted around the time Damian arrived and right before it. If they clocked a single glampse on him from one of those, they could follow the lead until it brought them to his doorstep. The man was good at hiding, they had to admit, but they weren’t the world’s greatest detectives for nothing.

Before they could truly start digging on the new lead properly, one of the screens was overaken by Babs.

“Sorry to crash your party boys, but I think you should clock in early today— I just got an alert on East End for way too many gunshots. Mini Batman is requesting to go out”

“I’m not a mini anything, Gordon” Damian called from the stairs, where he was walking down followed by a silent Cass.

Babs completely ignored him and Dick frowned.

“I don’t think it’s wise to bring you to a possible gang war, Damian”

The fifteen year old raised an eyebrow at him.

“Should I remind you that of anybody in this room, I have performed best the entire week?” he replied dryly.

Dick frowned but Cass surprised them by raising her hand to interrupt.

“We need all the help. Batman will play nice”

They glanced at Damian, who rolled his eyes but nodded in accordance to their sister. Well then… time to work.

What they found in East End was not a gang war in fact, but clowns… Joker’s thugs. While Joker himself hadn’t stepped out of Arkham since Dick last tossed him in ten years ago, his clowns usually came back every few months to remind Gotham they still existed, that Joker could come back every time… It didn’t seem like he had escaped, not yet at least; when and if he did, he would definitely try to make it memorable for ‘little Robin’. At the very least, it meant there was no rogue running rampant and the cleanup was dealt with almost completely smoothly—

That is, until Damian was snatched mid air by the tall and imposing figure of a man, grabbed by the collar of his cape like a kitten as he kicked to struggle to get free.

Dick -or well, Nightwing- turned to attack and then stopped in his tracks. That man was big, definitely bigger than Bruce was now, with a shock of white hair amidst black and his face covered by both a domino and a red metallic mask over his nose and mouth. None of them heard him move near them, despite the fact he was not a few steps away… he had managed to sneak up on all the bats, he could’ve done anything before they even relised he was present.

“I warned you, and you didn’t listen” the robotic voice came from the mask and its modulator “You’re fucking grounded, you little piece of shit”

Damian twisted to kick him in the chest despite being held up in the air, although the man didn’t even react or move at being hit. The boy wasn’t upset though, grinning as if he’d just won their little spat, which in a way he had.

“Hi, baba” he said innocently “you look really nice tonight”

[ariesbilly]

This is honestly a 5am crack thought, but I'm kind of obsessed with an AU where Billy is actually an Upside Down monster that Steve and the kids accidentally turn into a person/somewhat human.

Like maybe the-thing-that-Billy-is-before-he's-Billy is attacking them at the lab and Steve shoots him with what he thinks is your run of the mill gun. Or throws a bottle of something off a shelf at him. Grabs a random needle and stabs him with it.

And nothing happens at first. And, shit, yeah. They're about to die.

Except.

Except suddenly, what was a dangerous and very intent on killing them monster is now some naked feral mullet wearing boy who is absolutely stunned and confused by the concept of two legs and hands.

And, yeah. He's also fucking furious, still. And deadly. But also, what are toes, and why does he have them? What do they do? And he can't really bite things to death anymore, but actually, punching is kind of fun.

And its basically just like a what-if-your-dog-became-a-person style AU, but monsters, and Harringrove.

I would read 100k of this this is so funny

Billy won’t let having dull teeth stop him from (trying) to bite people to death. In fact multiple members of the party almost lose fingers in the early days trying to take something away from billy. They quickly learn that’s a no no

Steve, however, had billy bite him on the neck once and is like “that won’t threaten me cuz it turns me on dumbass” and billy can experience whole new human emotions with that one 🥰

I do love a feral!billy. Not much different from canon really. But like, Billy going from upside down monster to attack dog for the party…you love to see it. Steve and Nancy and Lucas are out here with their weapons meanwhile cut to Billy he’s shredding monsters like pulled pork with his bare hands.

Oh ok also billy staying at Steve’s house since he’s got the only empty one capable of hiding a random man, and Steve has to teach him the concept of sleep time and gives him his own room and pajamas etc, all while Billy stares at him with a blank face. And Steve’s like “ok alright goodnight I guess sleep well” and leaves all awkward. Only to be woken up an hour later to a big naked lump curled up at the end of his bed fast asleep and Steve kicks at him and wakes him up like “no you sleep in the other room! With clothes on!” But billys sleepy being human is exhausting so he’s not budging and Steve just accepts his fate and goes back to sleep what else is he gonna do he’s tired too

[fatkish]

I have another story idea I can’t get out of my head. This story would be a Demon Slayer x MHA a/b/o story.

In a lot of a/b/o stories, you have your alpha, beta and omega. Some have Prime or Apex alphas, alphas who are stronger and more powerful than a regular alpha. And in a few, there are fecund omegas, basically the equivalent of an apex. This story would be a twist on the idea of a fecund omega.

Basically in this story idea, the reader is an Omega as was Muzan Kibutsuji. Since the dawn of humankind’s existence there were 3 secondary genders, alpha, beta and omega. Of course, there were apex alphas who were bigger and stronger than the other alphas, but they were just a subgroup of alphas. Being the lowest class and having been mistreated and used since their beginning, something inside the omegas cried out for power. Power to protect them from cruel and ruthless alphas. Hatred, rage and grief all caused by them simply being an omega.

Well this story would be different from the story line of demon slayer. Muzan was an omega, but he was mistreated and eventually something in him changed, mutated. Normally alphas and omegas could go feral but an omega would still follow an alpha’s command. Fed up by the way he was treated, muzan killed his alpha. From that point forward he continued to kill every alpha he came across. Similar occurrences happened all around the globe, and these deadly omegas were titled Mortems.

These were omegas who were bloodthirsty and primal. Not even the command from an apex, whose commands worked on alphas, betas and omegas alike, would make them submit. Their other name was alpha killers. Muzan was the first but not the last. Very few historical reports of these mutated omegas had ever been made, and not even half of them had any real evidence or facts to back up their claims. There was so little information or knowledge of these Mortems that there wasn’t even statistics about them.

Speeding forward in time to the era of quirks. An omega is born. Now normally, a Mortem would just have increased strength, senses and speed. But once quirks came into the mix, our reader is born. Basically the reader would have all the same abilities as Muzan did as a demon, but they’d be immune to sunlight since it was a quirk. They’d have the regenerative abilities, Muzan’s shapeshifting, basically every single thing Muzan could do as a demon, the reader would be able to do. Except, instead of their blood turning people into demons, the reader’s blood works as a claim. Basically if the reader’s blood comes in contact with an omega’s, even if that omega was already claimed by an alpha even an apex, their blood would destroy the claim and the bond. The reader could give their regenerative abilities to others via their blood. But in order to claim someone, the reader would have to bite someone just like a normal claim but would need to inject their blood into the mark.

The reader would have been born when quirks first emerged and was born around the same time as All for One. Mortems were thought of as mindless and purely instinct driven. People didn’t think that Mortems could communicate let alone be capable of basic intelligence.

What happens when a Mortem omega intervenes with All for One and All Might’s fight in Kamino? What happens when this Omega kills All for One and saves All Might? How will the world react when live on TV, broadcasting from Kamino, this supposed mindless and deadly being, speaks?

After having just brutally murdered All for One, the Mortem omega walks over to All Might. Having no power left and being absolutely exhausted and defenseless, All Might believes that he will be killed by this omega, as they slowly walk towards him the entire battlefield is encased in utter silence. As All Might closes his eyes fearing the inevitable, he suddenly feels a sharp pain in his side, as the scent of omega blood fills his nose. In shock, and with his instincts telling him to protect an injured omega, All Might looks down at the omega as they pull their hand back. Stunned and confused, All might looks down at his side, feeling himself being able to breathe easier and no longer feeling any pain, he questions what the omega just did, not realizing he said it out loud. The omega then points to themselves and then his side wear his scar is and utters a single word, “fix”. The omega then seemingly disappears from the scene, running at an incredible speed.

Having just witnessed proof of Mortem Omegas being capable of communication or at least this particular one, the entire world’s understanding of Mortems has been challenged. After the fight, news of this omega spreads all over the world. When looked into by Recovery girl, she tells All Might that all of his wounds had been healed. The damage that no one else could fix was gone without a trace. She explains that the omega had injected their blood into him, healing his injuries and essentially saving his life.

When news of this gets out to the public, people everywhere are wondering where this omega is, why did they save All Might, what else are they capable of, and can they be utilized? After seeing the overwhelming power as well as the omega’s healing power, alphas everywhere start to turn their attention towards finding and trying to claim this omega. Fearing that the League will try to stake claim on this omega first, there by, gaining control over them, the HPSC orders Hawks, Best Jeanist, Endeavor and every other alpha hero as well as the hero schools to prioritize the claiming of this omega. Whichever alpha claims this omega will basically be seen as the strongest alpha.

As the League’s alphas, Tomura, and Dabi, begin their hunt for this omega, the pro heroes begin to keep an eye out for the Omega. As the hunt begins, Aizawa returns home one day to the scent of an unfamiliar omega in his home. Following the scent, he walks into his bedroom seeing everything has been moved around and all the bedding and fabric like material as well as his mattress has been put in the middle of the floor and seemingly arranged into a makeshift nest. From behind him he hears a growl, turning around in a flash, he comes face to face with the infamous Kamino Mortem. They walk past him and enter their nest, growling quietly at him, he slowly leaves the room and leaves the omega be.

What does this mean? Why is this omega here, in his house. Why have they built a nest? Why does it always have to be him?

If anyone wants to use this idea, go ahead. I just need it to stop taking up space in my brain.

[importantdestinydefendor]

Azar was appointed the highest military rank in Maar (I know you gave it a name but you were considering changing some names so does that include the title?) at a very young age, 22 if I recall, though you said you might change that. Nonetheless, she was very young when she got the rank. You said it was a matter of survival for her. I assume it has something to do with her half-Maaren half-Parsian lineage, as she'd be half foreign in Maar. Did something happen to facilitate her scrambling to rise through the ranks? Was she discriminated against? Were her relatives (evil aunt?) involved in that? Oh and how old is she actually, by Pars era 320? 22?

(It's a lot of questions, I know, and I know you usually don't like spoiling stuff but it's been weighing on my mind since I saw you mention “it was a matter of survival for her” and I just have to give it a try.)

Finally getting around to this.

I'm so happy that I'm not the only one who has Azar brain rot and that you all love her as much as I do!

So, small correction. Azar is 100% Parsian.

She does have family in Maar but only through second degree. The sister of her father married a Maaren farmer and built a family there (a pretty big one... I should maybe make a separate post for that). And it is at their, like, inn/tavern/farm in the village Rus where she grew up after being brought to Maar by said sister and, to some extent, Vahriz when she was one year old.

Now to the question that sparked your ask, probably.

Her "evil" aunt was part of the reason. Vahriz knew her when they all were young (or rather when he was young and they (also meaning Daryuns dad and Azar's mom) even younger) Their families were friends since their fathers were old friends.

So, a little spoiler for the AU, Azar's "evil" aunt (she does have a name, will do a post/poll about that later maybe with a few options)  was the one who killed Azar's mom. That's why Azar lives in Maar right now as her dads sister and Vahriz thought that she was safer there than in Pars. But that was proven false when the "evil" aunt ambushed Rus and gave Azar her first scar on her back (she tried to protect a few children in a church during the raid) when Azar was very young. After that the aunt attacked one more time and scared Azar's uncle (the farmer).

So  Vahriz brought her to the capital of Maar, Visgard, to receive proper training and that's when Azar became a squire. Vahriz felt guilty that he failed to protect her so he was very strict with Azar's training. He was so strict in fact that he exhausted her and brought her to her absolute limits. Others thought that Vahriz was maybe even too extreme. It was a very rough and hard time for Azar but for Vahriz, it seemed necessary. So she can protect herself with utmost certainty because he knows he won't always be there and he does still have a nephew he also has to look after. He basically drilled her and that's why she rose through the ranks so fast.

In the end it was Vahriz paranoia and guilt that drove her up the ranks so fast. A lot of people lost their lives the day Azar's mom died and Vahriz swore to protect and take care of Azar. But he failed in his eyes - twice. So he taught her everything he knew, drilled it into her, so she had a chance of survival when she came face to face with her aunt.

And due that and her vast skill set she proved herself to be a capable knight and leader. So she got appointed Almennt (I won't change the name for this one as in georgian it would be called generali and that does not sound serious at all (I do not say that as to mock the language, mind you. It just doesn't fit Azar at all)). I will probably change her age at the time to 23. Seems more fitting

And since we are at the topic of age and you asked how old Azar is in Pars era 320 (for those who don't know - that is our current time in ArSen) - she is the same age as Narsus, 26. She would probably be a few months older than him. So it has been three-ish years since her appointment.

(I hope I have answered everything you wanted to know!)

If anybody has other questions that you want to be answered regarding Azar/Firelight AU or any other OC I had mentioned or shown - my inbox is always open! I will write if it is something I won't answer if I regard my answer too spoiler heavy.

Edit: forgot the discrimination part. I have not really thought about that yet but considering where Maar's citizens originally came from it would be highly hypocritical. But there were (and still are (this time out of jealousy)) probably some squires and knights who were discriminating against or at least hated her due to King Farzin showing interest in her and sometimes training her personally alongside Vahriz. She probably got more discrimination against her with being a woman in one of the highest ranks in Maar since all of her predecessors were men.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Dabi x Dr. Strange Reader

@oyasumimosura asked: Is it okay if the reader has the same powers as Dr. Strange from MCU? She will be paired with yandere Dabi? He was a huge threat and even the one who killed her brother, in rage in their battle she nearly killed him in the process, luckily he was saved by Toga before nearly getting killed and it made him obsessed with her more. It was revealed that Dabi was actually obsessed with (y/n) when she first showed up on TV, she wasn't even from japan but one of those heroes in America. It would be a sight to see Dabi would belittle (y/n) on their first fight. He actually doesn't know what she is capable of because she already fought other beings from other dimensions, and Dabi absolutely loves her angered face.

Dabi found himself standing with average citizens as they watched through the glass windows of the TV store. He’d risk the skeptic side-glances for his favorite show or rather his favorite hero. He’s all about heros; especially destroying them and the image they represent. For awhile the hero: Doctor Strange was no different. They were an American hero, known for there bizarre and flashy quirk that resembled something of magician. You’re whole existence was a mystery, granted plenty of American heroes had a thing for vigilantism but it didn’t matter. You only came out for certain villains or rather monsters that were impervious to the typical hero attack. 

You’d become his latest obsession becoming second on his list from his father. It would be delicious to finally see that aloof and pretentious look on your face morph into one of terror. Unfortunately for him the first time he’s able to fight you he gets the exact opposite. You easily take him down hardly reacting before the villain you were actually after appears. Dabi is wonderfully left incapacitated while you divert your attention.

“Maybe do something else with your life?” 

Opening up a portal away you miss the way Dabi stapled smile becomes irrevocably wide. The pin needle of anger you had triggered with him simply getting in your way tickled him silly. Even as Toga and the others fuss over him he still reeling with excitement. He doesn’t give them your name but they’ll figure it out. They’ve never been one to back down from a challenge but at Dabi’s request they don’t intervene. Even as he uses resources to hunt down your brother. 

“Hey kid, can you help me with something?”

The poor kid is turned to cinders all with a smile on his murderer’s face. Dabi makes it obvious, getting it on camera. Waiting in public for you to show. And boy do you show. You don’t even look the same…you look almost demonic.

“Did you think I’d let you live in peace after what you’ve done!?”

“No way babe, I was counting on it!”

“What your death? Then you misunderstood me…I don’t plan to let you die not without tearing your everlasting soul.”

It isn’t until you quite easily have caused him pain and embarrassment by beating him relentlessly in front of his friends. He’s thinking after you’ve beaten him and his power is exhausted he sees your real angry face and it is then he gets the inkling that perhaps your anger was much more feirce than he thought. 

With a stomp into his chest cavity you transport him into a prison of reality. With the help of the timestone you force his body to replay the worst pain he has ever felt in his body. By the 50,000 loop he gets a sense of normalcy in which you put him in a different timeloop. A timeloop of him replaying that feeling of resentment and abandonment he’s gotten in his life. 

Dabi made the mistake of making an enemy of you. You, who never claimed to be a hero by the standards of the world. You are a hero of dimensions which means your rules exceed this world's. It was his fault for playing with fire.

[elliespuns]

I have to disagree with the sentiment that Show Joel is too weak because he wasn’t slashing his way through infected to protect Ellie like in the game. I mean, is he as physically strong as Game Joel? Obviously not, because, as you said, it wouldn’t be very realistic in a live-action series to have him doing stuff like that. Show Joel may not be an indestructible force of nature, but he’s definitely still pretty damn capable, and I think giving him some physical weaknesses (damaged hearing in his right ear, chronic body aches, exhaustion from over-exerting himself, ageing him up by a few years) and leaning heavily into his PTSD and the psychological scars of failing to protect his daughter actually served to highlight his strength. Seeing him struggle to protect Ellie because of his physical vulnerabilities and his debilitating fear that he’s going to get her killed one day like he did Sarah, made the moments he was able to protect her by fighting through all his pain and his fear that much more powerful to me because it’s relatable. I get wanting to see him do more badass things like in the game, but honestly I think if the show had just portrayed Joel as indomitable all the way through, then I don’t think his moments of strength or his overall character arc would have had as much emotional impact, in my opinion.

That is a valid point and I absolutely get where you're coming from. Funny is, that I partly agree with your opinion.

Although, what HBO did mess up, was their move to reduce violent action scenes. They basically cut out every important aspect of the time where both Ellie and Joel proved that they can trust each other in the most dangerous situations. I get they decided not to use some of these scenes to avoid difficulties during filming, but they diminished the thrill of Joel's character development.

The problem with reducing violent action scenes is that it removes very important build-up and foreshadowing about Joel. In the game, we are constantly reminded of what he's capable of and what kind of man he is. I just don't buy that show Joel would be mentally or physically capable of taking out an entire hospital filled with armed guards by himself. It's not that believable because Joel has only been portrayed as a depressed old man with panic attacks until that point.

I love show Joel. Pedro did amazing job portraying what he was given (I actually love him cause of how well he portrayed him), but they did him so dirty in the show when it comes to this. It's the writers' fault.

It's kind of clear now that they are trying to do the opposites of those chracters in the show for some reason. Making Ellie rougher and Joel weaker.

[blackjackkent]

OK, let's set fire to this portrait.

Whoosh.

I love that the Sage background basically means I get points for being Smart.

The lady that came out of the painting is NOT happy about the situation:

"Oskar! Where is he? WHERE IS HE?!"

She vanishes in a poof of smoke and the quest updates:

Great.

Back down to Jannath and unconscious Oskar, where things are going down:

OK, so this looks bad. The good news is Jannath is not dead (hooray!), but the bad news is that she is very unconscious and the ghost lady is stark raving mad.

"Who are you?" she screams as Hector enters the room. "Get out. GET OUT!!"

Oskar is conscious again and looks like absolute hells, pale and exhausted. "Please... Kerri, my darling, listen to me..."

She rounds on him and screams louder. "You brought me here. YOU DID THIS!" She stabs a finger in Hector's direction without looking at him. "Do not interfere. HE'S COMING HOME WITH ME!"

Hector's eyes flick rapidly around the room, taking in the situation, trying to parse it out, sifting through his memory for anything that might be helpful in talking this ghost down, anything from any book or bit of study back at the monastery. There were many discussions of possessions, certainly, and of the spirit plane in general - but that was a bailiwick more of the clerics than the monks.

Hector has academic knowledge of a cleric's role in such a situation, of course. But no practical experience. And in the end... what he turns to is no defined practice, but simple compassion.

[CLERIC OF SELUNE] "Listen," he says haltingly. "You're lost and in pain. This plane is not meant for spirits..."

"Another one who wants to control me!" she roars. "He called me here, trapped me! Pathetic little childish boy!"

"I only wished to *explain* myself," Oskar mumbles. "To make you see how--"

"No! Enough of your whining! ENOUGH!" the ghost snarls. "Selfish, arrogant bastard of an artist! I wanted to be left in peace!"

Hector grimaces. The picture is starting to come together and he isn't sure he likes what he sees. Oskar, from love or pride, has made an incredibly foolish series of decisions, and this girl's spirit is being tormented as a result.

"Please," he says softly. "Tell us what happened to you."

"And how does that help me?" she sneers. "Or is it just to help HIM?!" Her voice lifts in a bellow that shakes the rafters. "Why does everything always have to revolve around OSKAR FEVRAS?"

"Oh, my sweet Kerri," Oskar whimpers, flinching back from her. "What did I do to you?"

"Save your tears for the Ethereal Plane," she hisses.

Hector considers his words carefully. This situation is hanging on a knife's edge; if he says the wrong thing, this ghost is clearly very capable of hauling Oskar off into the plane of spirits, never to be seen again. And yet... he suspects that this is some twisted, darker version of the soul Oskar wanted to reach, corrupted by its passage to this plane where it is not meant to live.

And some of that soul might still be reachable...

[MONK][PERSUASION] "Ask yourself," he says, still soft, soothing, "will killing this man make you happy? Give you purpose? Or are you better than this?"

The spirit's scowl flickers into an expression of puzzlement. "What are you saying?" she mutters. "You're trying to-- confuse me. It's so hard to think... I don't remember..." She trails off.

Oskar steps hastily into the silence. "Kerry... my sweetmeat..." he wheedles placatingly. "I just need to know that what you did... that it wasn't my fault..."

The girl's expression is growing agitated, fearful. "Why am I here?" she cries. "I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be!"

Narrator: The spirit's aura flickers, changes. She is confused, lost - dragged here unwillingly by a man who refused to let her leave.

Hector shoots Oskar a sudden tight scowl; the disapproval in his expression makes the artist flinch back again and think better of whatever he was going to say next. It's clear to him now that the spirit is trapped here by some bond with Oskar, and until the air is cleared between them, she will not be able to return to a peaceful sleep.

When he is certain Oskar isn't going to interrupt, Hector turns his attention back to the ghost, and speaks with a gentle tone, reaching out towards her with the tips of his fingers. [MONK][PERSUASION] "Oskar does not matter," he says firmly. "You do. Say what you need to say to him, no matter how difficult it is."

The girl's lip curls. Her voice is softer now, but colder too. "Fine. If Oskar wants the truth, he can have it." She turns, snarls in the artist's direction. "We were a FLING, nothing more! My decision had nothing to do with him! I did this because I was so FUCKING sad! All the time!"

Hector's eyes widen as he parses the meaning behind this, but she's still talking. "Oskar finds it easier to imagine a world where women kill themselves over him than one where they have their own bloody problems."

Gods. A chill runs through Hector again, this time mixed with deep grief on the girl's behalf. She killed herself, and Oskar has dragged her back from the grave to reassure him.

"I'm sorry, Kerri," Oskar whispers. "I had no idea..." A pause, then, hastily, hopefully, "But I-- I was truly not to blame?"

The look Hector gives him could melt glass. You selfish prick... he thinks fiercely. Do you not see the misery you've caused?!

The ghost speaks before Hector can. "No. You weren't. So you and your poxy paintings stay away from me. We're done, Oskar. Over. Now let me rest in bloody peace."

-----

She vanishes into the ether, leaving all of them rather shaken.

Lady Jannath is slowly coming back to consciousness on the floor. Normally Hector would go to help her up, but he is still seething over Oskar's behavior and selfishness.

"Gods, what a mess I've made of it all," Oskar says piteously as his wife reaches her feet. "My sweet Fireliia... I've been a rotten fool, haven't I? And yet you never left my side..."

Hector fully expects the lady to give him a chewing out, but she just smiles at him with visible relief. "It will take more than a ghost to scare me away," she says. "Though I wish you'd come to me sooner."

"That's it?" Hector says, baffled. "You're just going to forgive him?"

"I'm no fool," Jannath says, reaching out and taking the artist's hand. "I know Oskar loved another when we met. But when we made our vows, I meant them."

"Throughout my ordeal, I saw how tenderly you cared for me," Oskar says, his voice heavy with emotion - or perhaps with drama. "Even at my worst, you never left my side. Truly, you were the one who saved me. I'm so sorry, my darling."

Perhaps Hector has simply had a long day, or perhaps the string of terrible problems he's had to solve is starting to wear on him, but he finds he is having trouble stomaching this. Complete ignorance of the revelation about the girl and her suffering, the self-righteous falling into Jannath's arms, the brushing aside of Hector's own contribution...

"Jannath deserves more than an apology for what you put her through," he says tightly. And Kerri even more of one. My gods... she killed herself, and all you could think of was your own peace of mind...

"A debt I'll spend a lifetime repaying," Oskar says gravely. Perhaps registering Hector's disdain, he turns to the monk with a wide smile. "As for you, my noble friend," he says brightly. "Our account can be settled far more quickly. Come upstairs to my atelier. I promise you'll leave with something priceless. Immortality!"

------

Hector watches the artist trot out of the room, his wife behind him, and realizes that he is clenching his jaw tightly enough to ache.

"You all right, Hec?" Karlach asks with some concern. "I thought you were going to deck him for a moment there."

"I was considering it," Hector says bitterly. A slight pause. "I was just considering the utter unfairness of the world, that this blistering, selfish, egotistical prick will have a long life together with his beloved, and I--"

He cuts himself off sharply but not quite soon enough; Karlach's head snaps back as if dodging a physical blow. "Yeah," is all she says, quiet, weary, sad. "Yeah, I know."

Hector lets out a heavy breath, reaches out and takes her hand and squeezes it. "Let's go see what prize he thinks is worth our while..." he mutters.

[martianbugsbunny]

Sweetheart Will You Sleep With Me (A Cherik Fic)

*Sliding in wearing a turtleneck and rainbow suspenders* *bc Erik would slay in rainbow suspenders* Yyyyyeahhh this totally started out as a fluffy "hey, wouldn't it be neat if instead of that weird-ass thing with Raven, Erik went to bed with Charles after their chess game?" (but not in that way, don't get too excited lol) BUT it turned into kind of an angsty "if this is our last night in the world as we know it, I don't want to spend a minute of that night without you" so....it's fun! (Plus, it's got some little spoon Erik bc I'm absolutely soft for that hehe) Read on and enjoy!

Charles didn’t say another word about Erik killing Shaw. He wanted to explain; wanted to say “I don’t really care if you kill him, I’m just terrified of where it will lead you,” but he didn’t want to make the tension between them snap and splinter into dozens more sharp words.

So he sat there playing chess for the next two hours as though the world wasn’t going to end tomorrow. Even if they didn’t fail, and it wasn’t the world that was going headfirst into oblivion, Charles was almost certain that his world would be—and he had to ignore that and try to focus on not letting Erik get check to his king.

(Which he did. Erik was better at chess, marginally, than Charles was.)

He wanted to stay up longer. Forever. He didn’t want what might be his last night alive to end. He really didn’t want what might be his last happy moment with Erik to be over.

But he was human, so his eyes began to feel heavy. In their fourth game of the evening, Charles made more than his usual number of stupid mistakes, and he caught Erik scrutinizing him from across the table.

“You’re exhausted, Charles,” he said quietly, taking Charles’ second knight. “You’ll be of no use tomorrow if you’re like this.”

“I’m fine,” Charles said shortly. He resisted the temptation to rub at his eyes and push the tiredness away. “These games—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Erik said, a little more firmly. “I may not be the telepath here, but I can feel the need for sleep rolling off of you anyway. You’re a grown man, so get your ass to bed and stop acting so childish.”

Charles dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I don’t want to—it’s—I can’t—Damnit, Erik, I might lose you tomorrow and I don’t want to waste minutes I could be spending with you now!”

The words had felt like they were going to split his skull if he kept them inside his own mind any longer. Still, Charles bit his tongue and got up to leave the library, certain that he’d said too much; he could’ve lived with that horrible pressure, could’ve kept his fears to himself, and yet he’d gone and spoiled a fine, if stressed, friendship with his fumbling outburst. A few lingering touches and strangely intimate glances were not an invitation to feel the way he did.

Then he felt a strong hand (Erik’s hands were so broad, so strong, so capable of gentleness) on his elbow. “Charles,” he said. It was all he needed to say, really. Charles could hear the marbled emotions pitching about in his tone, and he could name each of them.

Anger. That one haunted Erik more often than anything, and that one Charles would recognize in his voice more clearly than any other. He thought it would probably never quite leave Erik. Grief. He had to admit, he usually heard that one when Erik was thinking about the past, not about an anticipated pain in the future, but it didn’t escape his notice that he and Erik were apparently expecting the same thing. Exasperation. Charles knew that one well, too—but this time it was tempered by….

Fondness. Charles gave it that name because it wasn’t quite love, not yet, not so soon, not with so many walls Erik still had around his heart, but it was something sweet and kind and gentle, something that wanted to hold his hand and never let go, something that Erik held in the deepest parts of himself so the anger and bitterness couldn’t touch it and turn it sour.

It gave him all the encouragement he needed. Charles turned back towards Erik and smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “Erik, will you sleep with me tonight?” he asked.

Erik smiled, a kind of unguarded smile Charles had only seen from him once before: during their training exercise earlier that day. (What it did to him to know Erik only lit up like that for him.) “Yes, Charles, I will.” He brought Charles’ hand up to his lips and kissed his knuckles, then let Charles lead him upstairs to his bedroom.

Charles still wanted to stay awake; he wanted to carve the feeling of laying there curled against Erik’s back into his brain so it would never fade away. He wanted to remember every detail: the faint starlight coming in through the window; the soft, rhythmic motion of Erik’s torso expanding with each breath; the way Erik continued to hold onto one of his hands even as he slept.

But Erik’s hair smelled of Charles’ shampoo (besides Raven’s, it was the only kind in the house, and Erik hadn’t raised a fuss about it) and that was both strange and wonderful in its intimacy, and Erik was soft beneath his well-toned muscles, relaxed in sleep. Charles finally closed his eyes, lulled into a fleeting sense of peace by the domesticity of the moment.

[power-chords]

It just fucking hit me that Shklovsky is also at the very root of William Gibson's Pattern Recognition. The excerpted text below from Literature and Cinematography, which HE WROTE IN 1923, reads like getting a bucket of water dumped over your head right now, at this very moment, 100 years later:

To do a proper study on the theory of cinematography, you would have to collect all films, or at least several thousand of them. When classified, these films might yield the mass of material from which you could formulate several absolutely precise laws. We witnessed the arrival of cinematography; its life is the life of our generation; we can trace it step by step. Soon the material will become boundless. It is depressing to think that we already know everything about the need to study contemporary phenomena in the history of art but never do anything about it.

This is not something I can do by myself. This matter is beyond the capabilities of one individual; it requires trained assistants, means and, possibly, experiments.

What makes people cry? What is comical? Under what conditions does the comic become tragic?

It’s hard to understand literature fully; it’s impossible, or nearly impossible, to give it direction. The cinema is still visible; we could create a film science, which could be completely mechanised. In 1917 someone published a carefully researched article which reported that screenwriters, exhausted by work, had concocted a machine that produced plots. Imagine a row of films wound on special spools. One of the reels contains people’s professions, the second one – countries of the world, the third one – various ages, the fourth one – human acts (for example, kissing, climbing a pipe, knocking someone down, jumping into the water, shooting). A person takes hold of the cranks leading to these reels and spins them. Then he peers through a special slot and reads the resulting gibberish.

The machine is rather strange, but apparently it gives American brains the jolt they require. I’m going to write more about this amazing aspect of cinematography: about the tendency not to motivate the connection between the component parts, its scenes.

But in order to do this, we have to go back to the subject of plot in literature. There are several types of literary plot. Almost always, as it seems to me, these types of structure are based on an underlying sensation of disparity, an irony of sorts that is resolved at the end. In its simplest cases, a plot may be defined as an elaborated parallel. And there is an affinity that exists between parallelism in itself and the so-called obraznost [note: the Russian is not quite equivalent to the English ‘imagery’].

For example, if we say of a great man that he is a ‘tower’, that is an image. As a parallelism, the construct would be as follows: just as a tower rises amidst the city, so rises this man amongst the people. That is, an image is like a parallelism with its first part suppressed. This may be elaborated into a plot.

Thus, in the simple types of plot, we encounter a phenomenon similar in its structure to the ‘image’ and the ‘pun.’ There is such a moment in the plot of Macbeth. The witches have predicted that “none of woman born” will kill him. But Macbeth’s adversary was not born, he was “from his mother’s womb / Untimely ripp’d.” Thus the fact of unnatural childbirth – by means of Caesarian section – had so astonished the anonymous creator that he appropriated it and elaborated it into a plot. The word “born” lies at the base of the plot construct. For Macbeth, it means “of woman born”; for the witch, it means “born naturally,” with the emphasis on the very process of childbirth. Thus we find ourselves in a sphere where disparities are created on linguistic grounds.

Parallel intrigues in a film are possible only on one condition: that they be connected by common characters. Actually, film uses both “mystery” and “parallel” extensively, but it uses them in its own way. Mystery is used in the cinema mainly for plot transpositions, the phenomenon whereby a work’s events are rendered not in sequence, but in some other order. Usually what motivates the transposition is a story. In film, plot displacement triumphs. First, we usually get several somewhat incomprehensible scenes, which are explained only later in the form of a story narrated by one of the characters. Note, however, that in the case of motivation by a story, it is not the story of an event, as in a novel, but a plot transposition in its purest form (i.e., it’s as if you snipped a piece of film off the beginning and put it at the end).

In that regard film is undoubtedly much stronger. It is much weaker, however, in the area of allusion, which in literature sustains one’s interest in the resolution of mystery. Film does not allow ambivalence.

…One curious trait of cinematography is its complete disregard of motivations. By ‘motivations’ I mean the common, ‘quotidian’ explanation of a plot structure. Film has almost no use for motivations. Maybe this is simplistic, but it seems to me that in film nothing is told; everything is shown. We don’t require detailed explanations of the exceptionally fortuitous turn of events that made possible someone’s rescue. The facts speak for themselves. We see a film and hardly ever ask ourselves, “how, in what way?" An ordinary contemporary stunt film consists of a number of engaging scenes which are connected with each other solely by the unity of the characters.

Nor is any psychological motivation supplied. One part of a film is indispensable, because in it the cameraman shows a view of a city from above; in the next part, a trained monkey performs; the third part of the same film contains a ballet performance, and so on. And we watch all of it with interest.

What is a film plot? An artful selection of scenes, a successful chronological transposition and good juxtapositions. The film script has turned both toward popular comedy, with its stock characters, and toward the adventure novel, with its highly developed use of ‘delaying elements’, with its wide range of casualties, drownings, desert islands and other tricks… Since ‘delaying elements’, with slight variations, can go on forever, the only way to end the screenplay is to have a wedding.

[beneathashadytree]

Hiiii! It's been a while I really missed your writing and hope you're doing well! May I request a Levi x reader where the reader is Erwin's sister? It takes place during No Regrets after Farlan and Isabel died and the reader holds a grudge against him for trying to kill Erwin. But as time goes on she sees how Levi actually is and as a person and later on falls for him. You can go about this however you want! Thank you!! :]]

REBEL REBEL - LEVI ACKERMAN X READER

Warnings : a few curse words, mentions of death, reader uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : fluff, enemies to lovers!!

Word count : 4.0K words (I’m not even sorry)

Additional notes : Holy shit, I got so carried away while writing this??? Thank you so much for requesting! It feels so good to be back, and especially good to get back to writing for this incredible man 💗 I absolutely ADORED this idea, so I really ran with it as you can see😭 I’m sorry it took me so long to get to it, but I’ve got finals these weeks, and I didn’t want this to come out sloppy. Really hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it!!

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

Seeing him made her sick. Watching him cross the halls and slam the door shut behind him had her scowling at the wood, and she wondered, fury boiling within her, why someone as vile as him still lingered in their headquarters. If he was going to overstay his welcome, then she was going to despise him from the sidelines as much as she wished.

Though, apparently, she wasn’t nearly as discreet enough about her hatred as she thought she was, seeing as Erwin sighed exasperatedly at her.

“You could at least try being a little more subtle with your glaring.”

“And he could’ve not planned to assassinate you right in front of my bloody eyes, and yet here we are,” she snapped back, brushing his comment off as they walked down the hallway with him.

Her older brother quirked his eyebrow, “I thought we’ve agreed to put that behind us?”

“You have, I most certainly haven’t,” she snorted, walking into the commander’s office and setting down the heavy stack of papers they’d been carrying, “It’s not like I caught him stealing food from the cellars; he was plotting murder right underneath our noses.”

As he settled down behind his desk, the look in Erwin’s eyes had her stilling in place as he asked, “And you thought his attempts would’ve been anything but futile?”

She stiffened, her shoulders tensing, “Perhaps I did,” a cross look made its way onto her brother’s face, but before he could interrupt, she went on, “But that’s not just the problem. I’m appalled that you thought traitorous scum like him wouldn’t be a threat to us and our safety anymore.”

“You’re reading far too into this—“

“And you’re underestimating him far too much,” she spoke with finality, indicating that she wasn’t welcome to listening to anything he had to say, “His skills are only a testimony to how capable he is of stabbing us in the back once again. And I won’t be having that.”

She walked out without giving Erwin so much a chance to get a word in, and he slumped back against his chair. It was exhausting how similar Levi and his sister acted; both so stubborn and willful. Perhaps their similarities were exactly what made her despise the other man so much—whatever reason it was, he couldn’t afford to entertain her doubts and concerns. He’d found a new, shiny blade, and he’d be damned if he let him go.

***

The first time they’d been forced to interact directly with each other was nothing short of disastrous, though anyone could’ve foreseen that.

Levi, as nonplussed as ever, had been forced to relay his status report to her instead of Erwin, something she both detested and preferred. On one hand, she couldn’t stand staring at his uninterested face for a full ten minutes, droning on as he read from a paper, and on the other hand she’d rather have him bore her to death than have him interact with her brother whom he’d almost slaughtered.

With him standing in front of her, however, her annoyance seemed to be winning over, a perpetual look of disgust in her eyes as she regarded him. The ebony-haired man paused in his tracks, his eyes flicking back to her.

“Well?” she snapped, very pointedly looking at the blades to her left, “I don’t have all day.”

“No, though you seem to be quite satisfied with spending it wishing you could skewer me with that sword,” he replied, a barely amused look on his face.

“Mutinous,” she hissed, rage filling her chest at his daring response, “You’ve got some nerve—!”

“Doing my shitty job?” he scoffed, leering at her, “I’ve only done what was asked of me.”

She was positively seething now as she gripped the edge of her desk, “You know that’s not what I meant, scum.”

“An insult loses its meaning when you’ve been hearing it your entire life,” he slowly said, watching as her face morphed into a slightly stunned expression, before setting his papers down, “If seeing my face spoils your meals that much, have it your way then, officer.”

And though he hadn’t been particularly rude, his enunciation of the last word—her title—showed just how little care he had for positions. She could only sit back, papers now in hand, but mind racing at the last reply he’d given her.

***

For the entirety of the following months, Levi’s status reports were relayed to her and only her. She didn’t trust him to be locked in a room with Erwin, and much to her frustrated confusion, it didn’t seem like Levi himself cared much whom he was serving under. She only saw a flash of light in those grey eyes whenever he’d been drenched in blood and his boots settled on a titan’s mangled body after he’d dealt with them—and in all honesty, his viciousness when it came to dealing with the terrors was rather alarming.

She voiced her thoughts to her brother one cold winter night, and the only advice he offered her was that she take it up to the man himself. Put off by the sudden secrecy, it only made her more pissed off as she knocked on his door.

Following his drawl of permission, she folded her arms in front of her chest and stood in front of his desk, behind which Levi sat nursing a cup of tea and yet another pile of paperwork.

“Anything you need, officer?” his politeness was nothing but a front, and she knew that damn well.

Rearranging her annoyed thoughts, she said, “You’re wasting too much gas.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, looking a bit like her brother often did, and that further pissed her off, so she went on, “Your recklessness outside of the walls is ridiculous. And don’t give me any bullshit excuses as to why you’re so violent, because I know damn well you could take down a fifteen-meter class in one strike.”

“Now, how much did it kill you to admit that?” Levi sounded awfully provocative when he replied, and she could barely believe her eyes when she took notice of the quirk of his lips in what seemed to be self-satisfaction.

“Don’t get cheeky with me,” she bit back, her patience wearing thin, “You tried to murder my brother—the commander might I add, you’ve been wasteful of our limited resources, and you talk back like you haven’t got an ounce of respect for your superiors,” with every accusation she flung at him, she took a step closer, until her thunderous expression was towering on top of him, still looking unabashedly nonchalant in his chair, “And you’ve got the nerve to prance around headquarters like it’s your god-given right.”

Cold eyes remained trained on her, and he gave no sign that he was going to talk. Her chest heaving with fury and the effort of lashing out, she stood still in her place for a few seconds, trying to rein her emotions back in.

“Have you said everything you have to say to me?”

“No. I forgot to add that your handwriting’s god-awful too.”

Now that she finally got a proper look at him, she could tell he was far from amused. His rather intimidating expression sent a chill down her spine, something she would rather die than admit.

“I swore my life to serve the commander,” he started, eyes sharp and almost cutting as they looked up at her, “By dedicating my heart and soul to his cause, I dedicate them to him by extension. The question of my loyalty is non-negotiable.”

Levi folded his hands in front of him, his eyes never wavering for a second as he went on, “I owe no one loyalty but him. As much as I dislike the fact, he’s saved my life, and I owe him much for that. You haven’t done shit to earn my admiration, nor are you my direct superior. I can respect you as an officer, but I do not respond to your calls. Don’t ask more of me than my duties.”

Indignation rose inside her, and she opened her mouth to curse him out, but his sharp voice interrupted her.

“As for how I use my ODM gear, that is none of your business,” cruelty hardened his expression, “I personally recompense the regiment out of my own salary, because I will not be compromising on how I deal with titans. Those pieces of shit deserve to rot in their own filth and blood, for taking what little I had.”

They sharply inhaled, realization dawning on them. The two that had been with him. Isabel and Farlan. It had slipped her mind how brutally they’d been been slaughtered, and how he’d seen the horrific scene with his own eyes.

Levi seemed to notice her epiphany, and the corner of his lips quirked up bitterly, leaning forward as he said, “I am a child of the underground. If I strut,” he spoke the last word with disdain, “Then it’s because I’ve earned my damn place here now. And if my handwriting’s shit, then it’s because I was forced to learn to write here within the span of two weeks, without any complaint.”

The woman stood there, quite frankly stunned. She’d never heard him talk so much, nor had she ever heard such vitriol directed towards her. Blame her hot-headedness, and curse her self-righteousness that had her lashing out at a man whom she knew next to nothing about. His mere existence in front of her eluded her now, and she didn’t know what to do with that.

Levi looked away, his eyes turning dispassionate once again, as though she’d merely imagined the entire interaction, and he began to turn back to his files without so much as a glance back, his last words brimming with emotions she couldn’t pin down, completely contradicting the empty gaze in his eyes.

“Do not mistake my silence for complacency, officer.”

***

Weeks of minimal interactions had passed, without any indication of remembering their previous encounter. It still hung heavy in her heart, however often she tried to force herself to forget about the knot of what felt suspiciously like guilt that resided in her stomach every time he walked past her. Far too proud to apologize, she could only let the opportunities to resolve things slip by. After all, things were relatively back to normal—if that had been normal.

Levi only managed to pleasantly surprise her with the arrival of spring.

She’d been on headquarters duty, making sure that they’d been restocked with enough materials with the new shipments of ODM gears and blades. Though it wasn’t her job to check on the quality, she found it rather rewarding to know she’d gone the extra mile. With a self-satisfied smile on her face as he walked back to her quarters, she found a huff of annoyance coming from the direction of room before hers.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she walked in to find Levi sitting with his legs crossed, significant frustration etched onto his face as he sat fiddling with a needle and thread on a chair in the middle of the room—the room which, she was quite certain, had never been this clean.

Admiring the spotless window panes, she asked, “Whose turn was it this year?”

“No one’s,” he replied, not even bothering to look up from the tattered cloth in his hand, and a surprised look made its way onto her face.

“So you volunteered to help out?”

“No. It was filthy, and it bothered me.”

Odd. His words and vexed expression only further confirmed that he’d done it because he must’ve heard them bickering in the hallways the night before over whose turn it was to clean the largest room in headquarters. Perhaps it was the feeling of standing in a sunny, clean room that smelled nice, but the atmosphere had her in a much better mood than she’d anticipated.

Only then did she notice what he’d been doing when she’d walked in.

“Is that your cravat?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her as she saw him fumble with another loose thread.

“Supposed to be,” he grumbled, “Some brat accidentally shredded it during training. Don’t even know how it got there.”

With a snort, she walked up to him, leaning in close, a small noise of appreciation escaping them, “You’re actually pretty good at this.”

“Had to,” he mumbled to himself, a dark shadow crossing his face, and for a moment she wondered what he meant—until she remembered his upbringing; the very same upbringing she’d indirectly shamed.

And before she knew it, she was offering her help, “Here, you could try cross-stitching,” she pointed out, leaning even closer over him, “It’ll look better.”

“Fancy shit doesn’t matter, practicality does,” Levi scoffed, though it didn’t sound particularly unkind to her, and she watched as his deft fingers followed the thread carefully. His actions were surprisingly graceful, and the flex of his hand muscles was rather fascinating.

A little entraced, their close proximity hadn’t quite registered in her mind—at least, until she was so close to him that a soft, clean smell invaded her senses. A small part of her egged her on, enticing her to lean in closer and revel in his oddly comforting scent.

But that wouldn’t do. With self-restraint she never thought she’d need, she pulled away without so much as another word. If not out of embarrassment, then out of common sense. She shouldn’t let her thoughts venture into dangerous territory—especially not ones concerning a man as infuriating as him. No; it was best to walk away, and so she did.

***

Her efforts to stay away were futile, because the moments they shared seemed to only increase in number the more adamant she was to ignore him.

On their way back from their latest expedition, the heartbroken visages of people losing their loved ones haunted them from every direction—them, the survivors. The ones who lucked out.

A little taken aback by the glares directed towards them, she could never get used to this routine procession. In her daze, she failed to noticed the child that bumped into her horse, and she gasped a little in alarm at his tiny wail.

“I’m sorry—“

But before she could carry on with her weak apology, a sigh came from behind her, and she saw Levi steering to a stop and hopping off his horse, making his way over to the kid. Momentarily stunned, she watched as he went down on one knee, a tired, almost-imperceptible smile on his lips.

“Be more careful next time,” he admonished the child, though his eyes were gentle as he wrapped a handkerchief around their scratched arm, “You might hurt yourself badly.”

“Sorry,” the kid sniffled, only to have the older man ruffle his hair, a melancholic look flashing in his eyes before he got up and pulled his horse along the rest of the way.

Perhaps he was gentler than his rough edges made him seem. And perhaps that only became more apparent that very same day, after she’d had another nightmare that kept her awake deep into the night. She’d gotten up for a drink; something to keep her distracted from the horrific scenes that replayed in their mind, and had stumbled blearily into the kitchen to find him already standing there, boiling some water in the kettle. As soon as she entered, he looked up.

“Can’t sleep?”

She furrowed her eyebrows a little at that, “No better than you can. Came here for a drink.”

“Even the cheap alcohol’s out. Tea’s all we got,” he spoke as he began making another mug next to his own, unprompted.

After he’d poured and stirred, she graciously took the steaming mug from him, taking a whiff of the incredibly soothing aroma.

“What’s this?” she asked, feeling curious, before taking a sip that had her humming in satisfaction, “That tastes incredible. I’ve never had anything like it before.”

Levi’s eyes flickered with what could only be described as smugness, clearly taking pride in his fine taste in beverages as she settled down on the small kitchen table and he took a seat right across from her, “Chamomile tea. Doesn’t taste bitter.”

Though few words were exchanged after that, a certain warmth pooled in her belly and made her eyelids feel heavier. She didn’t quite know whether it was because of the soothing tea or the oddy serene company of the man who’d brewed it, but she’d soon enough found herself being tugged into a deep slumber. Hunched over the table with the mug in her hands, she wasn’t conscious to hear him sigh helplessly to himself.

“Dummy.”

And perhaps Erwin himself had walked past the burning kitchen lamps and saw two figures slumped at opposite angles on the table, and found himself smiling despite himself, before retreating back to his room.

***

Every time they’d ventured past the walls, Levi would linger behind without fail. She’d come up with some sort of excuse or the other, but she always made sure to stay back and quietly observe. There hadn’t been a single time when he hadn’t reverently carried a dead body back to the carriage when they’d been short on hands, no matter how mutilated his late colleague was. He was quiet about it, never fussed too much—not even when blood seeped into his skin and clung to his clothes.

In a way, it seemed like he respected death, and greeted it like an old friend, without ever offering himself up. That came hand-in-hand with how much he valued life, and how precious it seemed to him. He wasn’t quite as good at hiding how he felt as he thought he was. Or maybe she just prided herself in being able to read the expressions flitting on his face. She had a faint inkling as to why that might be the case, but she squashed the heat in her chest down with every time it returned.

***

The weeks bled into months and morphed into years, which slowly gave way to more moments between them. Time sped by, and disaster struck and left the scouting regiment in shambles for what felt like the umpteenth time. And somehow, miraculously, they’d both seen it through; they’d both managed to outlive their comrades and find themselves in each other’s company more often than not.

Still, whatever it is that was brewing, neither of them dared to comment on it. It felt far too fragile; the circumstances seemed far too sensitive to broach the topic. It was too risky, and they had far too much to lose—solace, company, peace of mind; to ruin things would bring that normalcy and comfort all tumbling down.

“Did you wait for me too long?” she asked, a little breathless after she’d been forced to scale down the side of the headquarters’ building to avoid prying eyes and security.

Levi shook his head, the night breeze toying with the raven strands of his hair, as he tugged her horse along to her, his own faithful steed obediently waiting in his other hand.

“Let’s go somewhere where there’s less noisy brats around,” he sounded a little grumpy, and she chuckled lowly at that.

“Erwin’s still dealing with Hange’s shenanigans, even at this time,” she shook her head, a fond look making its way on her face as she nudged her horse into a steady trot across the fields and into the safe sector of the wild.

“They’ve got a few screws loose. I don’t know why Erwin entertains them,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

She could see the reflection of the moonlight as he glanced back at her, and for a moment she almost forgot what she had to say.

“The same reason he entertains you,” she gave him a half-smile, “Because you’re his friends and the people he trusts the most.”

He looks slightly put out by her words, “Don’t compare me to shitty glasses. At least I’ve got my damn sanity intact,” he paused before he eyed her carefully, “Besides, you’re his sister. Don’t exclude yourself just because you’re feeling extra shitty tonight.”

Her grip on her reins tightened, “How…”

He didn’t respond, but he spared her a glance that seemed uncommonly soft in the moonlight. Maybe it was that, but her stomach flipped for some reason. And for some reason, Levi himself looked away from her, instead watching the terrain slowly bleed into a cliff.

“Look down.”

She slyly grinned, “Trying to get rid of your superior, Ackerman?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve tried with this family,” he gave her a dry look, “Not that it would work. Just look down.”

His words made her realize just how long it had been and how far they’ve come, and how they still somehow haven’t moved from where they stood. Daring to listen to him, she looked at where the cliff dropped, and nearly gasped in surprise. A beautiful babbling brook twined between the tree trunks, and fauna she had nearly forgotten existed sat by the banks, half-hidden by the overgrown grass and mossy trees.

“Levi, this is breathtaking,” she inhaled sharply, eyes wide and taking the view in with so much wonder that the man almost winced at the bright look on her face.

He jumped off expertly, patting his beloved horse before taking a seat at the edge and waiting for her to follow suit. And so she did, still a little dazed and sitting down much closer than they ever had, knees knocking into each other and shoulders nestled against the other.

“Anything feels small when you look at this,” his voice was quiet the next time he spoke, and she stilled at his words, “Shit happens, but then it’s all part of something bigger. Or at least, it might be.”

With his windswept hair, gentle gaze outwards, and his regal features, for a moment she almost stopped breathing. He’d well and truly gone out of his way to make her feel better. He’d picked up on her doubts and frustrations, the ones that she’d never voice out loud for fear of seeming ridiculous, and he’d sought to comfort her in the way he knew best. Clumsy as it was, it certainly was part of him—the Levi she’d grown to know, the Levi she’d caught glimpses of when he’d thought no one else was watching, the Levi she—

Her heart sputtered and her stomach dropped. The feeling only intensified when she returned to her senses and saw that he’d been regarding her intently with a certain look in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher. It had her face flushing reflexively, and try as she might, she couldn’t will herself to go back to normal. At least, not when the man looked at her like that.

Maria, Rose, and Sina help her, he was handsome.

The admission to herself only sent her heart into a frenzy. It grew worse when his calloused hand tentatively reached out and settled atop of hers, and she prayed he couldn’t feel how clammy they’d gotten. It was ridiculous, honestly, how this proximity made her feel. And it was even more ridiculous how badly her chest constricted as she curled her fingers around his.

The question he quietly asked was one that struck her heart, rendering her speechless for a good minute as he very slowly leaned in.

“Can I be selfish?”

Grey eyes were anything but cold as they flickered to her lips, and the sheer vulnerability of his stance had her nearly keeling over. With their hands entwined, she could feel his own racing pulse too. The moment felt so sacred, she whispered her next words in hopes of not shattering it.

“I’d probably kill you if you won’t be.”

Inch by inch, she began to close the distance between them, his warm breath on her skin a little ticklish as he chuckled. Gods, if she could hear that rare sound every day, she’d never complain again.

“Can’t have you being the one with murderous tendencies this time,” he breathed out, before soft lips met eager ones, and for a moment—just a very short, brief moment that lasted less than fifteen seconds but felt so infinite—it felt like in a world that had long given up on them, they were the only two people in the world.

And even if they really weren’t, they’d hold it in their grasp and shield its eyes for a few more minutes of blissful borrowed time.

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