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nicole-timey-wimey-stuff · 6 months

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My Heart Is Yours

Joel Miller x reader (previous) Daryl Dixon x reader

The Walking Dead x The Last Of Us

Daryl Dixon x fem reader

Crossover fic

18+ only please

Warnings - angst, heartbreak, zombies, smut, fluff, Joel being a asshole, Joel being shit at feelings, loss, death, swear words, Daryl is a sweetheart, reader described as female, talk of infidelity, Daryl is a virgin, reader grows to be a badass, my terrible writing, Carl doesn’t die in this, as I can’t do that to him, he deserved better!

Not cannon at all!

This is long!

Words- 5.2K (sorry)

Let me know if I’ve missed anything.

As you walked alone through the forest, somewhere in Georgia or there abouts, you contemplated the last 6 months of your life. How you ran from the man who you thought loved you, how you snuck out while he was sleeping after he’d crushed your heart. Kicking dusty dirt under your shoes you contemplated it all, you remember how calm he'd been, when ripping it from your chest while you broke into shattered glass.

It wasn’t always like this you knew that, not so long ago you had Joel’s full attention. He was stern and grumpy, but he was also sweet and tender with you while you were alone. When the outbreak happened your dad was bit by an attacking walker, he had barricaded himself away from you and begged you to leave him, to go next door and find Joel, his best friend of 15+ years now. Joel also happened to be the man you’d been having a secret “relationship” with if you could call it that, it’s been going on about 4 months now. And even though it had no label, recently things had shifted, it had started to feel like a real relationship, not just hooking up.

When you had run over to Joel’s he and Sarah who was a five years younger than you, but you’d become like a big sister to her over the years, were frantically packing their bags to leave. When he caught hold of your distraught face he knew what had happened and he’d said “Come on sweetheart you can come with us”. He took you with them, protected you and even after Sarah’s death, he kept you close. He’d gotten you to safety a place called the QZ, you’d been given a two bedroom apartment together, they’d presumed you were Joel’s daughter and not his lover. By now Joel was a broken man, he’d barely speak and intimate moments were rough and lacking any emotion. Still you gathered he was grieving, this was temporary and your Joel would reappear at some point, if you were just patient with him.

But it never happened, as the months dragged on things between you got more and more distant, he began sleeping in the other room, coming home drunk he would crash on the spare bed or the sofa. One day you came home ready to confront him, tell him to not push those who still loved and cared for him away, to ask him to make a go of this again. But what you came home too was him animatedly talking to another woman, who appeared to be around his age. He was smiling, laughing, telling a story about something you couldn’t decipher, as all your attention was spent on watching his movements, watching the way his eyes creased with laughter for the first time in a long time. He barely acknowledged your entrance just nodded in your direction, as you quietly padded your way to the bedroom.

You later found out her name was Tess, and they had developed some sort of apparent friendship during their time working with one another. As the coming weeks went by, you noticed lingering looks between the two, subtle touches and knowing looks shared. Until one night he came home in the early hours smelling of her perfume. You’d sat there all night waiting for him, hours ticking by ready to demand to know what was going on.

When he did come home he jumped, startled seeing you sat at the dining table, waiting for him with an expectant look on your face. “Where were you all night?, and don’t lie to me because you stink of her perfume” you sneered.

He sighed “Yeah I was with Tess”.

“Did you fuck her?” You asked, trying to keep your voice stern and unwavering.

He looked at you almost remorseful, his eyes filled with a sadness “Yeah” he affirmed.

A gasp left your chest without meaning to let it slip, tears filled your eyes as you stood nodding. “Ok then” you stated, starting to leave the room. Joel grabbed your wrist trying to get you to look at him, “Darlin’” he tried to explain “Don’t!” You snapped back “Just don’t, what ….. what did I do to deserve this huh? Was I not good enough?” You questioned, tears now freely flowing. His face contorted, pain evident on his features. “No don’t say that sweetheart this is all on me, and I’m so sorry but she gets me, we are the same in age and our pasts are similar, your too young, you had your whole life ahead of you, and I was wrong to get involved with you, it was a mistake” he explained. “Right” your jeered “ A mistake” your heart was broken, you had nothing left now, you’d lost your dad, your best friend and now Joel. “Thats your best excuse huh?” You exclaim “Look I saved your ass, coz let’s face it your next to useless out there, you’d be walker food if you didn’t have me, but you are my responsibility and for your dad I will continue to look out for you, but that’s all I can give you now” he answered.

With that you stormed into your room slamming the door, before falling onto the ground as sobs wrecked through you, while Joel was left stood static in the kitchen. After your tears had all but dried on your face and you had gained some self control, you stood up and grabbed your bag aggressively shoving everything you owned into it.

Once packed you waited until you heard Joel’s soft snores, then you left quietly out of the front door, out of the apartment block and snuck through the walls of the QZ.

_______________________________________

That was two months ago now, you’d learned pretty quick how to protect yourself. You had too, your life now depended on survival skills, there was no one left to watch your back. You’d killed countless walkers by this point, Joel had taught you before to always go for the head. Your walker killing skills had most definitely improved, and when a heard came you quickly climbed a tree, where you’d wait patiently for it to pass.

It was almost dark now, a soft moon glow was casting through the trees. What did they call it ‘blue hour’ the twilight period where the sun had sunk enough that it casted a blue haze. You found a large tree with a vast amount of thick branches higher up, this would be your bunk for the night. You clambered up as high as you could, finding a suitable perch and wrapping a rope around you and the trunk, securing yourself safely in place while you slept. You pulled your tarp out of your bag, using it like a blanket covering yourself from the elements, once you were happy with your position you closed your eyes, letting sleep overcome you.

You awoke to bickering voices, getting louder the closer they came. Looking up you realised the sun was relatively high in the sky, indicating it was at least late morning. Untying yourself slowly and as quietly as you could possibly muster, you gathered up your belongings and peered over the edge of the branch. You saw two men approaching, one with short curly hair, scruffy beard and a sherif hat perched on his head. The other had shaggy brown hair that just passed his ears, face adorned with stubble. He was shorter than the man with the sherif hat, he had a crossbow attached to his back, and he appeared to be peeved by the sherif dude.

“All I’m saying is if you gave them a chance they may surprise you, just because they were part of the governor’s group, doesn’t make them bad people, just scared people” the one with the hat reasoned.

“That dun mean I gotta be their friend now does it” the archer replied.

Just as the sherif went to reply a small branch you were holding snapped, loud crack echoing through the tree’s. “Shit!” You gasp quickly grabbing another before you fell to a splattered end. Both men pull out their weapons at an impressive speed pointing them in your general direction, “Come out now! Slowly” the sherif guy shouted. “Umm that may be hard” you meekly replied. “Why!” He demanded. “I’m kinda up the tree” they both looked up, the archer spotting your form and pointing to show the sherif. “I’m only armed with a knife and I’m alone, if you promise not to fire at me I’ll come down” you reply.

“Ok” the sherif replied pointing in gun downwards towards the ground, the archer though kept his crossbow aimed at you, clearly not trusting you. Taking a deep breath you started a slow, calculated decent down the tree, before dropping to the ground and raising your hands in surrender. You let out a squeak as they were on you in an instant, patting you down searching for any weapons, finding the one machete knife you claimed you had, and a pocket knife in your bag.

“Where yer from? And why were yer up the tree?” The archer challenged. They both glared at you expectantly “Uh I’m from Texas, I’ve been travelling by myself for a couple of months now. And I sleep up trees for my own safety, I don’t fancy being mauled to death in my sleep by walkers” you sassed back. The sherif smirked at your answer, “what’s your name?” He asked. “Y/N my names y/n” you reply.

He exchanged a look with the archer who nodded back. “If you want somewhere safe to stay, we have a small community close by. But you have to answer three questions truthfully” he communicated.

You thought for a second, what alternatives did you have really? You were tired, lonely and will be close to starvation if you carry on like this much longer. “Ok, but promise your not serial killers or something” you stammered. He huffed out a laugh, “No not serial killers, but we will however stop at nothing to protect our family” he affirmed. “Ok” you noted.

“Ok then, how many walkers have you killed?” He asks

“Too many to count, over 40 at least” you ponder.

“Ok, how many people have you killed?” He continues.

You look down in shame before answering “One”

“Why?” He responded.

“He tried to …” you trail off tears filling your eyes. “He tried to force himself on me, I fought him, shoved him hard and he fell back, hit his head, I didn’t mean too! I just panicked” you stammer out, getting visibly more upset. To your surprise the archer came over and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Hey it’s ok, no one shud have ta go thru that” he voiced. “I’m Daryl, n’ this is Rick” he introduced them both. You nodded, “Did I pass?” You ask. “Yeah” Rick replied “Follow us”.

__________________🏹___________________

Six months pass in a blur, you followed them back to a prison with huge double iron walls. You settled in quickly making fast friends with Daryl, he opened up to you, told you about his past and his abusive father, about his brother Merle who he’d lost not long before finding you. You’d told him about your Dad and about Joel, eventually in great detail not leaving out any of the things he did to send you running off on your own.

He’d been so angry when you did, it was the dead of night, the prison silent. He pulled you in close on the bottom bunk of your cell, whispering into your hair how you deserved so much better, how special you were, how much of an idiot Joel was for ever letting you go. He placed a kiss to your forehead, and it was in that moment you realised how deeply you’d fallen for the archer. He was your saviour, your heart and the one thing that tethered you to the world now.

One rainy night a storm was raging outside. Everyone was holed up in the safety of the prison, trying to get some sleep as thunder rumbled through the halls. You were snuggled into Daryl’s side, his hand tracing patterns over your back.

“Your my reason now Daryl, my reason for living in this fucked up world. You make everyday worth it” you’d confessed. He’d turned to you in disbelief, where did this come from and how could someone so wonderful, so brave and amazing as you, just profess that to him. Astonished he searched your face, looking for any chance of a lie but he found nothing but sincerity.

So he swallowed any doubts he had, shuffling onto his right side, his eyes still bearing into yours, he traced your jaw so carefully with his thumb, before leaning in and placing his lips on yours. The kiss was so gentle, as if he was worried he would break you. Snaking your arms around him as you pulled him in closer, wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours and deepening the kiss. The hand cupping your jaw finds your hand, entwining your fingers and moving it down beside your head. Daryl moved his body to lay over yours resting on one forearm, his other hand still closed around yours, you open your mouth, tongue swiping over his lips asking for access, which he grants hesitantly caressing his tongue with yours. You let out a small moan starting to roll your hips against his, your spare hand sliding under the front of his shirt and tracing his chest. Daryl heaves in a breath, pulling away from your lips to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’ve not dun this before” he breathes, now hiding his face in your neck, embarrassment creeping in. “What do you mean?” You ask confused. He lifts his head again “I mean this” he gestures between the two of you, “I’ve neva had a relationship, neva been intimate like this, I mean Merle tried when we wer younger, paid sum girl to sleep with me, sum druggies sister, she was older than me, I felt uncomfortable when she tried to touch me nd I dunno I panicked n left. That’s when Merle started callin me Darylina, callin me a pussy, I neva tried again” Daryl confessed, waiting for your reaction, rejection maybe.

But it never came, you just hugged him tighter again “Oh Daryl” you whispered, kissing the side of his head. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can take this a slow as you want.” You continued, stroking the hair from his face. He looked you in the eyes again, fingertips stroking your cheeks. “I love yer” he drawled, eyes filled with emotion “I love you too”.

He kissed you again more passionately than the last, more confident with his actions now, Hands roughly cupping your face as he pulled you into him. Pulling away from your lips he starts peppering open mouthed kisses down your throat, then tugging up the bottom of your shirt. Getting the hint you pull the worn material over your head leaving your top half bare. He pauses then staring at you in awe, before gently stroking a thumb down the side of your breast, then leaning in taking your nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the bud and gently sucking. Leaning back again he mumbles “These are amazin’” massaging both in his palms. You let out a small giggle between moans “Well they are all yours” pausing then reaffirming “I’m all yours Daryl”.

“I’m all yers too sunshine” he replies, muffled by his lips mouthing into your neck. Getting up he takes a step back, pulling his own shirt off over his head and pushing his pants down, causing you to eagerly do the same. As soon as your both bare he crawls back over you, catching your lips with his own once more.

You take his hand and gently guide it down your stomach to your wet folds, nudging him to touch you, and letting out a strangled moan when he obliges gathering your slick and rubbing your clit. It’s clumsy and miscalculated but he’s gentle and patient, and eventually he gets it right causing you to let out pleasured gasps. You stroke down his stomach grasping his hard member, sporadically moving your hand up and down watching his reactions carefully, ready to stop if he looks at all uncomfortable. But when he throws this head back and lets out a low moan, you know your good to carry on.

Wrapping your other arm around his back you pull him into you, guiding his cock to your soaked pussy “I need you” you whimper, raising you hips to rub yourself against him. “Shit” he curses “I dun know how long I’ll last” he admits, cheeks turning pink. “That’s ok baby we have the rest of our lives to practice, and I don’t think I’ll last long either” you reply. Nodding he takes himself in his hand before nudging his tip at your entrance, he places his forehead against yours and pushes in, bottoming out in one slow thrust.

“Fuck you feel soo good” he groans before pulling part way out and slamming forward again, causing you to scream out. Daryl hastily puts his hand over your mouth “Geez woman, be quiet you’ll wake everyone up”. You mumble an apology against his hand as he starts rolling his hips into you again, letting out small gasps in your ear, the hand he’s supporting his weight on lovingly cards through your hair and he nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

His pace picks up and you start feeling that familiar tingling in your core, you move your hand down and frantically start rubbing your clit, after a few more hard thrusts he has you cumming hard, core fluttering around his cock, your head thrown back in pleasure. His pace becomes sloppy, his soft pants turning into whines before he quickly pulls out, stilling with a groan as he paints your stomach with his spend.

He kisses you slow and deep, fingers carefully caressing your side. You smile up at him lovingly as he collapses on the small bed beside you, your both still panting trying to catch your breath. Daryl turns to you “That wer amazin, your amazin” he breathed, you hum “It really was, I love you” “I love you too sunshine”.

__________________🏹___________________

3 years later

………………….

You’d been through so much, the family you’d all created had been through so much. In the space of less than a year, the prison fell thanks to the governor and you were all split up, you made new family members on the road.

Then more than half of you arrived at terminus which lead to an impromptu rescue mission, together with carol you both saved them all, throwing yourself at Daryl after thinking you’d lost him forever. You later found Alexandria as well as hilltop, two communities who welcomed you in, and you all created a life again finally feeling safe.

Until you made an enemy of a man called Negan, he killed Glen and Abraham, then took Daryl as a prisoner. Those weeks were the most miserable of your life, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat and your mind haunted you of all the what if’s. When he arrived back at hilltop pulling you into his arms he asked you the most important and easiest question of your life”

“Marry me” he pleaded, holding your face in his hands, blue eyes filled with tears. His heart at peace for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, yes I’ll marry you Daryl”

He pulled you against his chest, burying his nose into your hair, you were together again and that’s all that mattered, even if war was on the way.

Negan was stopped, his community fell and he was held as a prisoner in Alexandria’s prison, where he still sat to this day. Apparently showing everyone that change can happen, that the killing of humans needed to end. You’d lost people though, friends, family, it was an awful fight and one you hope never to encounter again.

Another peace offering was this notion, one to connect every community together with a bridge. It would make travelling quicker and safer, the building of this bridge was currently underway you, Daryl and Rick were overseeing the project.

Your husband was currently hammering down planks, while you were going over plans with Rick.

“We need more workers Rick, they are working themselves silly, is there any give on the saviours yet?” You asked.

“No carols been working on them, tryin to convince them, but it ain’t working’ yet” Rick sighs.

“But your right, this can’t continue” he vented, before walking off to check on the progress.

Rolling up the plans you theorise that this bridge will never get completed, no one is getting on and the saviours that are here are causing nothing but issues. While you were pondering you hear desperate footsteps charging towards you. One of the younger citizens of hilltop, she looks panicked “There’s a small heard coming this way, I saw them from the watch tower! Aaron’s got a team out there cutting down trees, the coms are down and I don’t know what to do!” She pleaded.

“Ok don’t worry I’ve got it, I’ll take a group out to deal with it” you reply, giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

You throw on your baseball cap to shield you from that blazing sun and jog over to find Michone, “There’s a small heard on the way over and Aaron’s teams out there” you relay. “Ok let’s get going then” she urged. Gathering a group of able fighters you make your way in the direction of the heard.

After joining you guys at the prison Michone had taught you to how to use a Samurai sword, an art you’d skilfully mastered now over years of practice. You’d stollen another one from terminus’s artillery stock years back, and you haven't parted with it since.

Tying a bandana over the bottom half of your face, you breathe in a slow calculated breath calming yourself before running towards the heard, slicing the heads off the walkers with exact precision along side Michone. While the others shoot arrows and stab machete's into their skulls, working together you clear the walkers quickly. Unknowingly being observed by a small group of people from the tree line, once the walkers were all cleared the group emerge making their presence known.

Snapping up your eyes meet those of a young girl, about Carl’s age she looks at you with wide eyes, glancing at your sword. You lower your weapon, and Michone speaks first “Who are you?” She demands “Umm I’m Ellie” the girl replies shakily, a broad man is by her side in a flash, pulling her behind him protectively. It’s then you look up meeting deep brown eyes you recognise instantly “Joel??” You stammer.

“Do I know ya?” Joel asks his tone warning.

You let out comical laugh, of course he doesn’t recognise you, he’d moved on before you even left. Although your hair was shorter now, cut into a long bob to ensure walkers and enemies couldn’t grab it. Your body was more muscular, toned by the years of fighting. And you were less feeble, your demeanour had changed.

This will be fun you thought before removing your baseball cap and your bandana, Joel lets out a low gasp “y/n?”

“Yeah it’s me, how many of you are there? And do you have a community?” You ask voice unwavering.

“Woah, hold on there darlin’ the last time I saw you was nearly four years ago, and you snuck out of our home while I was asleep! And I never heard from you again! I thought you were dead!” Joel exclaimed

“Well sorry to disappoint, now answer the damn question!” You demand.

Joel gawps at you astounded, Michone smirks proudly, she knows who Joel is, she’s your best friend after all. You’d told her everything it’s why you asked her to teach you, so you’d never be weak and defenceless again. “There’s just us four, me and Ellie, and we met Chris and Ellen here on the road a few weeks back” he answers.

The girl named Ellie is watching the exchange, eyes narrowed trying to get a hold on what was going on.

“Right follow us, we have a safe camp close by. There’s food and water, your welcome to both and a safe bed for the night” Michone cuts in, obviously realising the tension rising between Joel and yourself. You nod along with her before hastily walking back towards camp. Joel staggers trying to catch you up, “y/n! Hey stop please” Joel pleads, you blatantly ignore him, still stomping your way to camp like a petulant child. As he goes to grab your wrist a lone walker stumbles out of the trees, taking Joel by surprise. But you instinctively jump in front of him slicing the head in half, allowing it to fall to the floor with a thud. Then once again picking up your pace, one destination in your mind, Daryl.

“Jesus y/n” Joel mumbles, before trying to catch up to you again, “Look can we talk please?” He asks desperation laced in his voice. “You can talk as we walk” you snapped. All you wanted right now was to be in Daryl’s comforting arms, all that tension would wash away.

You'd be able to think straight again.

“Ok I’ll take what I can get, what I did to you wasn’t right I know that, but running off like that? That was beyond reckless, I couldn’t sleep for weeks! I was worried sick, you have no idea how immobilising that was!”

“It’s called guilt Joel” you deadpan

“I’m alive and well, I have a family now one we all created together in Georgia. People who love me and protect me, as I do back for them. So you can leave that guilt behind now because I’m fine” you summarised.

“I can see that…. You’ve changed” Joel sighed.

“Yeah well I needed too, it was you who said and I quote “you are useless out there, without you I’d be walker food” sound about right?” You ask.

“I didn’t mean that sweetheart I was upset in that moment, I always knew you could handle yourself” Joel implored.

This stops you in your tracks, you turn to him anger cursing through you “You were upset?” You laugh out voice like venom.

“You cheated on me Joel, I was just trying to be there for you, I know you’d gone through a lot but I was there for you, and you tossed me aside like I was nothing!” you cried.

“I didn’t” he whispers

“Didn’t what?” You ask

“Cheat on you, I didn’t, I asked Tess to spray me with her perfume she was only a friend, I knew you deserved better, I was dragging you down, I knew you needed to move on, find someone your age, less broken. I wanted you to still have a life! I knew you wouldn’t move on unless you thought somethin’ had happened between me and Tess, I was wrong I regret that night so much darlin’” he explains, tears rolling down his cheeks. He hastily wipes them away with the back of his hand, as Ellie approaches.

“Everything ok Joel?” She asks carefully

“Yeah” Joel replies meekly.

He wraps an arm around her and ruffles her hair, you felt happy for him to get that chance to be a dad again, he was a good dad.

By the time you reached camp your head was in complete turmoil, you were still angry and hurt but now it was for different reasons. How dare he take your choices away from you like that, he didn’t get to decide that you deserved better. But you did find better didn’t you, a man who loves you wholeheartedly. A man who had never once hurt you, who never made you feel like a burden or unwanted.

Your eyes searched for your archer in the sea of people, when they landed on him he was ruffing with the kids, laughing as they chased him. You stood for a minute admiring him as he scooped up Judith, swinging her around before handing her to Carl. He looked up his ocean blue eyes meeting yours, then he’s jogging towards you smile gracing his features. “Heard ther wer sum walkers? You ok?” He asks checking you over “Yeah I’m good, we took care of it” he nods, hands cupping your face before placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “We found some stragglers, brought them back for food and rest, Michone will decide after that if they can stay” you explain “Joel is with them” you confess, he stills then “As in the Joel?” He asks “Yup, the Joel, it’s ok I think. I’ve said my bit, he won’t be here long” you reply.

Daryl looks over towards the newcomers his eyes meet Joel’s, who’s already watching Daryl’s and yours exchange. “Guess I’d betta go introduce myself then huh” Daryl all but growled. You smirk to yourself, you’d never seen this jealous protective side of him before, you gesture for him to go for it, and watch as he walks over.

Reaching his hand out to shake Joel’s, Daryl introduces himself “Hey I’m Daryl y/n’s husband, I’ve herd a lot bout ya” Joel hesitantly shakes his hand “Joel” he replies stoic as ever. “Well I jus wanted to thank ya” Daryl continues small smile on his lips. “Thank me?” Joel asks visibly confused, “Yeah for messin up so badly, for givin me the chance to meet her, and show her how she shud be loved, she’s the best thing I’ve eva had in mah life, and I am thankful every day for her, so yeah thank you” with that Daryl walks off back towards you, leaving Joel watching after you once again, realising how much he had lost when he gave you up.

Pulling you into his side as Daryl walks you to where Rick and the rest of your family is organising the next steps of the project, Michone gives you a side hug and Rick looks up “You ok?” He asks big brother protectiveness coming out, “Yeah I’m good, I have my family” you smile, Carol chimes in with “You sure?” Nodding you think to yourself how lucky you are to have these guys, your hand finds Daryl’s, and your arm loops around Michone. “Yeah I’m really good”

You knew these new emotions would be hard to navigate, but you had those who loved you right here.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #daryl dixon #the last of us #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #tlou

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cherries-jubileee · 7 months

Text

when you're lost in the darkness. . .

pairing : kwon soonyoung x reader

au : the last of us

summary : seoul falls first to the infection, and five years is too long for one man to be alone.

cw : canon-typical violence (for tlou), character death, mentions of infection/viruses, hurt/comfort, also hurt/no comfort, the crushing weight of being alone in the apocalypse, mentions of blood/gore

wc : 8.3k

day zero

year one of the outbreak

soonyoung is slouched over the kitchen counter when you walk out of the bedroom that morning, desperately trying to figure out how to use your new keurig as quietly as possible. it’s far earlier in the morning than you’re used to, having to be wide awake before the sun has fully risen, but the law firm that’s hired you on is well-known and respectable, and you want to make a good impression. this new schedule, you tell yourself, is only temporary, and you’d be able to afford to sleep in just a little more a few months down the line.

“soonyoungie, you should be in bed right now,” you say, finally, after several moments of watching your partner struggle to find the power button to your coffee-maker. soonyoung doesn’t jump or act surprised that you’ve been standing behind him, but you note that he looks only the slightest bit apologetic, “the physician said you needed to be resting as much as possible, i know i’m not the only person who heard that.”

you don’t feel bad when his lips pull into a tired pout – you’ve been desensitized to it at this point – but perhaps your heart aches a little when he plays with the laces of his hoodie and mumbles, “but i wanted to make you coffee for your first day at work.”

soonyoung looks precious like this, in your opinion, and your opinions are very rarely objectively wrong; you don’t know when he rolled out of bed after you got up to shower, but he’s still sleep-warmed and half-asleep, snuggled into a well-worn hoodie you remember gifting him before you had even officially started dating. he’s barefooted, which, on the kitchen tile floors, can’t exactly be pleasant, but he doesn’t seem perturbed by it at all. the only thing ruining your domestic view of your boyfriend has to be the rough, wet cough that comes from him the next time he opens his mouth, quickly shoving his face into his elbow as the coughing fit wracks his body. whatever he meant to say before is lost between the both of you, and you flit around the kitchen restlessly to get him a glass of water.

“i know, it’s miserable,” you tell him, after the coughing has stopped and he’s taken the glass from your hands, “i’m very happy that you wanted to send me off today, but it’s super early, and i know you don’t feel well right now. did you already check your temperature while i was getting ready?”

soonyoung nods, but knowing the look in his eyes, he isn’t pleased with the answer. “still have a fever,” he rasps, and when you raise your hand to press it against his forehead, smoothing his hair from his face, he leans into you without hesitation.

disappointment and worry pull your lips into a frown. “you are still a little warm.” it’s not new information, but you don’t like admitting it. already, it’s been a week since soonyoung was exiled from the company building until he got better, and only three days since he’d developed that nasty cough. his symptoms weren’t dire, you were well aware of that, but that didn’t make you worry any less over his well being. soonyoung is still pallid, his face uncharacteristically puffy and tender – you remember that the doctor had brushed it off, claiming it was nothing more than lymph node inflammation from some kind of virus; he’d sent soonyoung home with anti-inflammatories, and instructions to remain rested and hydrated. this was the first day you would be gone at work full-time, and you were already fretting over how soonyoung would fair being left by himself. “go back to bed, and call me when you wake up.”

soonyoung hums. “alright, take care.”

“and if you start to feel worse, just tell me and i’ll come straight home.”

“okay.”

“and make sure to eat something. your appetite probably isn’t what it usually is, but you should still try and eat.”

“got it.”

“if you want, i can have something delivered –”

“babe.” soonyoung’s groan is slightly muffled by his hoodie, his hands coming up to your arms to pull you back, “do you even want this job? you’re gonna be late.”

checking your phone, you curse when you realise he’s right. if you wanted to make it to the firm before you were officially late, you would have to leave now. “alright, alright, i’m going. i love you. and i’m serious about you calling me if you need anything, okay?”

you don’t wait for an answer, even though soonyoung is still nodding as you lean up and press a kiss to the side of his head, pull back and, upon further consideration, kiss his cheek again for good measure. soonyoung sees you out as far as the door, leaning from the threshold and waving at you as you hurry down the hallway. you turn to him for the last time as you reach the elevator, blowing him another flurry of air kisses until the elevator dings, and the door opens. he watches you disappear from view, slowly closing the door in front of him.

the trip back to bed, now that the house is empty, feels infinitely longer than it should have. he can still hear the television murmuring quietly from when you turned it on; you like to absently listen to the news while you get ready in the mornings. admittedly, there aren’t many days where you are gone, and soonyoung is home alone. most days, you were both gone until late into the afternoon – soonyoung, at practice and in the studio, and you, at school. the most recent turn of events had been your graduation from law school, which gave you an uncanny few weeks off while you were still interviewing for a job.

you’d called it boring, mainly. ‘it was a lot of sitting around and doing nothing,’ you’d told him one night, eating dinner together at the coffee table, ‘mostly, it was a lot of waiting.’

it isn’t the same, but soonyoung wonders if this is what you felt like every day when he left for work, leaving you home alone for long hours at a time.

the sun is high in the sky when soonyoung is awake enough to think critically again. waking up early enough to send you off while he was sick as a dog wasn’t his smartest idea, but going right back to sleep makes him feel slightly more human than before. he’s not entirely sure what time it is – and he doesn’t check, seeing as his phone is on his nightstand, which is all the way across the bed from where he’s laying.

he doesn’t dwell on it, crawling into your side of the bed and wrapping the blankets around him tightly. you’re probably going to kill him when you find out he slept here, him and all of his germs, but he knows it’ll be worth it, the scent of your shampoo still lingering on the soft coolness of your silk pillowcase. the television acts as some sort of glorified white noise machine, lulling him to sleep before soonyoung even has a chance to set an alarm for later in the day. truthfully, he wouldn’t need it; he wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long, long time.

soonyoung knows he should probably listen to what you told him earlier and eat something, and yet he stays in bed, staring blankly at the television as it moves through sports headlines. his eyes are still partially glued shut, and his throat feels dry. he almost swears that he can feel your charger cable plastered to his back, but makes no move to pull it out from under him.

he thinks about eating again, and the thought only serves to make him more nauseous – maybe, if he tried, he could get away with nibbling on some crackers without feeling like his stomach might explode.

one could only hope.

soonyoung’s lament doesn’t last long, promptly interrupted as his phone vibrates against his nightstand. soonyoung weighs his two options: one, it’s from the company, in which case he very much could have ignored it and he moved for nothing; two, it’s from you, and if he doesn’t pick up the call in the next fifteen seconds you’re going to be on the phone with paramedics before soonyoung has the chance to call you back. he doesn’t take the time to deliberate over which one would be worse, because he’s squirming into a sitting position and reaching for his phone before he can decide.

luckily, it’s just you. soonyoung only thinks it’s a little strange that you’re calling him at – he checks the clock on his phone – 1:38 pm on your very first day at work.

“hey, you,” he manages to mumble out, holding the phone to his ear even as he leans back into his mass of pillows, scratching the side of his jaw, “you have good timing. i just woke up.” he hears you laugh from over the phone, but it doesn’t give him the same satisfaction that it usually does.

“hey, young-ah,” you say, and normally, soonyoung would preen at the nickname, despite the fact that you have dozens for him. today, he doesn’t – he isn’t sick enough to not notice the tremble in your voice, or the fact that you sound like you’ve been gasping for air. “how are you? are you still at home?”

“of course.” maybe it sounds worse than it is. soonyoung is prone to dramatics, including the self-inflicted. “been sleeping the day away, mostly.”

“okay.” you sound far away now, like you’ve set your phone on your lap, “listen, something came up earlier, so i’m…i got seungcheol to pick me up, and mingyu is here, too. i’m on my way home right now.” he hears a distant ‘hi, hyung’ coming from the other side of the call, and almost doesn’t have the thought to greet mingyu in return.

soonyoung expects the worst – that maybe your alleged boss had reconsidered your application and hadn’t been able to tell you before you got there; maybe some sort of tragedy had happened to one of the workers, enough to where the entire office had been shut down, employees sent home.

as curious as he is, and god does he want to know every juicy detail, soonyoung instead stretches himself onto his back, half-buried in your pillows, and asks, “are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you say, your voice coming out quicker than he had expected, “i can’t explain it right now, just – turn left right here, cheol – i’ll tell you as soon as i get home, i promise.”

“what are you talking about?”

“soonyoung, i can’t – there’s not enough time to explain it right now.” soonyoung sees the ‘breaking news’ title card scroll across the screen of your tv as you pause, “i’ll tell you everything, i promise. do you remember where i put my old bookbag after i graduated?”

there’s not enough time for soonyoung to process what you’re asking him when he starts reading the scrolling headlines at the bottom of the screen. “i think so…”

“can you take it out for me? i just need somewhere to store the important things before we go.”

from the other side of the line, soonyoung can hear seungcheol talking, just over the sound of traffic around you. “we don’t have that much time. just get soonyoung-ah and come back down…”

“we can’t assume we’re coming back, cheol. he’s still really sick, and if he happens to get worse while we’re gone, i don’t want to be unprepared for it.”

“gone?” soonyoung parrots, feeling utterly confused, “baby, why aren’t you telling me what’s going on? why are we leaving?”

you seem to suddenly realise that your boyfriend is on the other end of the line, sucking in a sharp breath that the receiver only vaguely picks up. “soonyoung, we’re almost there, please, let me explain everything in person–”

“what even is cordyceps?! why is it all over the news, they’re talking about it like it’s the end of the world!”

“baby, i–”

“i know, you’ll tell me when you get home, but if it’s actually important that we leave as soon as possible–”

“cheol, there’s a shortcut up here–”

“–then i can pack everything you need and meet you in the lobby–”

“no!” you seem almost surprised as he is that you raised your voice, “no, soonyoung, please don’t. it’s not – it’s not safe right now, everyone is acting crazy and you’re not at one-hundred percent health. please, please tell me you’ll stay inside until i get home.”

soonyoung has never heard you beg before, and that alone is enough to chill him straight through the bone. he agrees without any more fuss, putting the phone on speaker and leaving it in bed, even as he paces nervously around the room, wrestling out of his clothes and pulling fresh ones out of his closet, trying to dress as quickly as possible. it’s only jeans and a worn, oversized sweatshirt, but it’s better than nothing.

you haven’t stopped speaking, but soonyoung knows you aren’t talking to him. everything you say is a little too far away, a little too vague to make out. he hears other voices – mingyu, seungcheol – and you can only truly be talking to those two now. there’s an occasional softness in your voice, when you sound the most far away, that makes soonyoung think that you’re turning your head to murmur reassurances to mingyu, who has always been a bit of a scaredy-cat. soonyoung imagines that he’ll tease him about it later, when he no longer has a laundry list of questions keeping him from comforting his dongsaeng.

“baby,” soonyoung mumbles, grabbing his phone and cradling it in his hands, “how far out are you?”

“not far at all, young-ah.” you sound so unsure, but soonyoung lets you pretend you’re hiding it well, “just a few blocks, i can see our apartment building–”

the crash doesn’t register with soonyoung until you’re screaming over the phone; the crunch of metal folding like paper and the shattering of glass so fine it sounds like rain; a frenzy of deep, sharp shrieks as soonyoung imagines the car flipping once, twice; your voice is so far away now, but you’re screaming louder than ever, desperation and terror sending you into hysteria as you sob and wail ‘mingyu-ah! mingyu!’ until your voice begins to crack with use. soonyoung is yelling with you, shouting your name, “what happened, what happened?! are you okay? is everyone okay? talk to me! baby, i need you to talk to me!”

soonyoung is helpless to do anything other than listen, your heartbroken cries punctuated only by the scrape and crumble of glass, piercing his heart and nearly sending him into a panicked spiral. soonyoung only thinks to grab his phone at the last second before standing up and bolting to the front door. he’s already been thinking about how much time it would take for him to get downstairs using the stairs and into the street before he’d be able to find you. you’d said on the phone that you could see your apartment building just before you crashed – surely you were close enough to reach on foot.

soonyoung struggles with the laces on his sneakers, and tries not to think about seungcheol’s bmw flipped over onto its roof in the middle of seoul, with his partner hanging upside-down in the front seat.

“soonyoung-ah…”

your voice creaks as you call his name, and soonyoung nearly dives for his phone, clutching it in both hands as he holds it up to his face. if he stares hard enough through the screen, perhaps your likeness would appear in front of him – despite the fact that you despised using video call, and would avoid it like the plague if you could help it.

“you’re okay,” a deep, gentle voice hums from the other end of the line; it’s seungcheol, and soonyoung could almost cry in relief that he’s okay, “you’re okay, i got you. hold on to me so i can get you down.”

“soonyoung-ah…” you’re crying harder now, choking on your tears as something metallic clicks in the background and the shuffling begins, only to end just as quickly as seungcheol’s voice mumbles quiet, undecipherable comfort to you.

soonyoung is quick to open his mouth, desperate to say ‘i’m here, i’m still here, i’ll come down to you. stay there, be safe, i love you.’

“soonyoungie,” you sob again – soonyoung has never heard you cry this much in the near-decade he’s known you, and his heart leaps to his throat, “don’t come - don’t come down here.”

“don’t say that to me.” soonyoung finally finds his voice, though the words are hard to force out, “don’t tell me to do that. jus-just don’t move, okay? soonyoungie will come downstairs and find you and seungcheol-hyung and mingyu-ah, and then we’ll all go together. how’s that sound?”

“no, you can’t.” if soonyoung could see you, he imagines you would be shaking your head at him, “please, i’m begging you. it’s not safe.”

it feels like there’s glass scraping at the inside of soonyoung’s skull – the headache from earlier is coming back, full force. “baby, i don’t understand–”

“i’m telling you not to come downstairs!” you shout, “don’t come down here, soonyoung! don’t come–”

day one-thousand nine-hundred and seventy

the call cuts before you can finish, his phone screen lighting up to show him his background – it’s supposed to be a photo he took with you after seventeen’s first win, except he’s cropped himself out, leaving only your smiling face behind. soonyoung sits in the new silence that blankets your shared apartment. on the street below, chaos erupts, the everyday humdrum of the city shattering as the apocalypse begins in the heart of south korea.

five years, five months, twenty-five days after the outbreak

mold has started growing on the walls of the apartment. it’s the first of many signs that soonyoung will eventually have to pack up and leave – the sooner the better.

this mold isn’t cordyceps, which can’t survive outside of the body for more than an hour, but it’s fungi, and he’s aware of the health risks posed against him should he cohabitate with it for too long. he can’t afford to get sick. there’s no one here to watch his back.

soonyoung misses you more than anything.

he wakes up cold, curled tight into a ball within his sleeping bag. lying on his side, staring into the decrepit, ransacked room, there’s a sliding glass door on the adjacent wall, half-obscured by torn, fluttering curtains. it’s his only exit from the ground floor apartment, so he’d attempted to leave it exactly as he’d seen it before – sitting half-open with one side of the curtains drawn, the rest sitting in a sopping heap on the floor.

he’d spent most of the night watching the door, listening for the tiniest movements, before he eventually let exhaustion drag him into sleep.

for a sunny day in march – and soonyoung at least thinks it’s march – the cold bites like a wild animal. it had rained yesterday, a searing downpour that lasted most of the afternoon, and now a dense, heavy chill sat low on the city. the wind makes it even worse, but soonyoung at least hopes his windbreaker would be enough to keep him from freezing while he scrounged for supplies.

seoul might as well have been a barren wasteland at this point. while the vast majority of the population had escaped the confines of the city during the first hours of the outbreak – soonyoung can imagine many were attempting to reach the coast and escape the country by water – few stragglers still roamed the city streets. even after five years, soonyoung’s never seen anyone closer than fifty meters away, though he wasn’t naive enough to assume there weren’t people who would harm him; with how few people still stubbornly called the city home, supplies were fewer, and soonyoung’s food situation was looking dismal.

it was time to get creative.

normal grocery stores or shopping malls were out of the question – it was suicide, if not for other survivors willing to fight him for whatever scraps they may find, then for the infected. the worst of the hordes drifted out of the city within the first few months of the outbreak, leaving behind an eerie, false silence. the infected, albeit still numerous in the city, became something of an afterthought compared to the risks posed by other human survivors.

produce was a luxury only found in the occasional garden, sometimes growing wild in city parks, and perishable goods were completely out of the question. soonyoung would instead have to rely on looting abandoned homes to look for anything still edible. in previous years, as a man still holding onto the slim hope that help was coming, it would have been soonyoung’s last resort; now, there was nothing left but to assume that he was on his own, and he’d have to act like it. anything not nailed down was free game.

by midday, soonyoung was crossing the han river into dongjak-gu, picking his way through the graveyard of broken cars still stuck on the road. they were likely abandoned in the initial panic to get out of the city – the city’s power grid had stayed on for a week after the outbreak, and every channel on tv was broadcasting the same emergency news, telling citizens to head south, as far south as possible. it’s hard not to wonder how many of them actually made it that far, but it’s an unpleasant thought that soonyoung pushes from his mind as quickly as he can.

he’s is only a third of the way across the bridge when he starts to hear the clicking. it’s not the first time soonyoung has heard it, but it’s one of the only time he’s ever been this close to the source. it was atypical for clickers to congregate in groups outside, where their echolocation was less dynamic.

it meant good things for him, because it meant he’d be able to sneak past them with less trouble that usual. he wasn’t prepared for a fight; soonyoung only carried one weapon with him – a mean-looking hunting knife that he rarely used in self-defense. if it really came down to it, running for his life was really his only option.

soonyoung steps out carefully from behind the row of cars he was huddled behind, and immediately realises he’s made a terrible mistake. at the sound of his canvas sneakers hitting the asphalt, ten heads turn his way, half-muddled eyes training on him through the haze. a quiet, biting ‘fuck!’ leaves his lips, and soonyoung takes his one option without an ounce of hesitation.

he sprints down the remaining length of the bridge like he’s a runner on his final leg, finally putting his foot on the gas after taking it easy through the last turn. the shrieking doesn’t let up behind him – if anything, it grows closer, closer, until it’s nipping at the backs of his heels. soonyoung’s lungs burn and his legs shriek with exertion, but he doesn’t stop. he can’t stop, desperation fuelling his adrenaline that much more, breath coming out in rushed gasps. there’s a pileup at the intersection not one-hundred meters in front of him, if he can just get there, get up and over, maybe he can break their line of sight, disappear in the rubble.

it’s not a good plan, but it’s better than no plan, and it’s all soonyoung has time to come up with before the shrieking behind him is suddenly in his ear, the weight taking him to the ground as the infected clambers over him.

soonyoung has never seen one this close before, never been under one as it fights against his hands restraining it, broken fingernails digging into his arms and rotted, black teeth snapping in his face. he doesn’t know where the rest of its group is, doesn’t hear any cacophonous sounds of his impending doom over the sound of his own heartbeat.

he needed to push it off, needed to reach for his knife and sink it into the decaying bone of its skull, but there was no way he could hold it with one hand. the lack of sustenance wasn’t helping soonyoung’s case – he was weak, no longer the energy-ridden dancer he used to be, and while he still retained what was left of his stamina from the years before the outbreak, it was nothing if he couldn’t defend himself in a pinch.

soonyoung is sure he’s going to die here when the shrieking stops faster than he can process it, a sharp bang echoing through the empty streets. the infected slumps into his hold, and soonyoung’s arms finally fail him. he gasps for air, shivering on the ground; he can’t tell if it’s from the cold or pure adrenaline. there’s blood splattered on his face, and soonyoung can smell the iron in the air, clogging his senses.

the infected has a bullet wound drilling straight through its temple and out the other side, dripping blood all over soonyoung’s windbreaker.

he pushes the body away, rolling it to the side and sitting up, scanning the street for the shooter. with so many cars in the way, it was hard to see anything at all. none of the other infected were coming after him – had they also been taken out? was he being watched right now? it didn’t matter, he was losing daylight, he needed to move if he wanted to eat tonight.

“soonyoung-ah?”

it can’t be who he thinks it is. soonyoung is five years younger in an instant, sitting on the floor of his – your – otherwise empty apartment, feeling the weight of the world settle on his shoulders. he hadn’t wanted it then, but he’d been able to carry it with him, every ounce of that grief and anger, because he knew it would keep him alive.

a pair of worn hiking boots plod into the corner of his vision, and soonyoung looks down the barrel of a shotgun at one choi seungcheol.

five years have passed since soonyoung had last seen him, but seungcheol still looks every bit of the leader that he was before, if not a little rough around the edges. there was no faulting him in that, not with the way the world is now.

“hyung,” soonyoung mumbles, feeling his eyes prickle with tears, and seungcheol’s reaction is near instantaneous, hanging the shotgun off of his shoulder and pulling soonyoung into a rough, blazing hug. soonyoung’s face is tucked tightly into his shoulder, a familiar hand buried into the choppy black hair at the back of his head. soonyoung can still hear his heart pounding in his ears. seungcheol is shaking against him, though quiet. it’s uncanny. soonyoung doesn’t remember ever seeing seungcheol become so emotional before.

soonyoung isn’t doing much better, pressing his face farther into seungcheol’s jacket. his tears are beginning to soak through the material, but cheol doesn’t pull away. he makes no move that proves he even notices, which soonyoung only has the energy to be tangentially grateful for.

“seungcheol?” a woman’s voice echoes through the streets from behind soonyoung – it’s unfamiliar, not one he recognises, “who is that?”

it takes a herculean effort for seungcheol to pull soonyoung away from him, and when he does he pushes him gently to turn around, presenting his find to an older woman with a serious face, who stares at soonyoung critically. briefly, it takes him back to his trainee days, and soonyoung would be a liar if he said he wasn’t almost missing those formidable years; they were, in most ways, awful, but in the very least he hadn’t been alone, hadn’t been made to fend for himself.

“this,” seungcheol starts, pressing a strong hand against his shoulder, “is soonyoung. he’s one of the friends we lost – thought we lost – when everything went to shit.”

soonyoung feels like his head is floating through space, and he tries not to think too hard about seungcheol’s word choice in the latter half of his statement.

the woman doesn’t speak for a long time, simply levelling soonyoung with an expression he can’t quite read. she’s silent for perhaps another thirty seconds – though it could have been several minutes – before she sighs and gestures them both along.

“come on, then,” she grunts, “we’re too far into the city as it is. we might as well head back before it starts to get dark.”

soonyoung learns that the woman’s name is julkyung, and that she’d met seungcheol’s group two and a half months ago during a supply run into the city. she tells him that their group doesn’t live in the city – that a small group of them are holed up outside the city as they gather supplies for the coming winter months. she doesn’t tell him where their real camp is or why they have to come all the way to seoul for what they need, and soonyoung doesn’t ask.

seungcheol smiles, warm and bright and so, so relieved, and pulls soonyoung along, falling quickly in step behind the older woman.

they walk for an hour down the highway, going south out of the city. seungcheol doesn’t let go of soonyoung’s hand the entire time, occasionally turning to look over the younger man, like he’s searching for something wrong.

“what?”

“nothing.”

“are you sure?

seungcheol flashes him a comforting smile, and soonyoung wants so badly to trust it isn’t forced. “i promise, soonyoung-ah. hyung is just happy that you’re okay.”

julkyung leads them to a break in the highway, where the concrete has crumbled with time, scaling down a lopsided bus held up haphazardly by the untouched road. seungcheol is almost unnecessarily careful as soonyoung slides down the roof, but neither of them say anything – soonyoung is more than willing than to let seungcheol have this if it gives any comfort to his brother.

“how long were you in the city?” soonyoung asks, unsure if his hands were clammy or just wet with rain, “after everything…y’know, i rarely saw other survivors, much less…” he doesn’t finish, but seungcheol seems to understand what he’s searching for immediately.

“we left the city,” he says, “a couple days after the quarantine zone went to shit. they’d blocked off all the city exits, but with all the chaos we were able to slip out. went north for a while and, hm…ran into trouble. we doubled back earlier this fall, passed around the city trying to go south. that’s how we met julkyung and the others.”

“and everyone else?” it’s an idiotic question to ask, because soonyoung doesn’t even want to know the answer, “is everyone okay?”

seungcheol’s grimance tells him everything he needs to know.

“no.” somehow, cheol is calm, bringing a hand up to securely thread his fingers through the short hairs at soonyoung’s nape, “but most of us are, and that’s what’s important right now.” julkyung pushes her way through a swathe of undergrowth, seemingly ignoring them. “come on, we’re almost there.”

the path julkyung had taken them down leads into a clearing, one that looks like it could have been for camping in another era. there are tents scattered across the flattest portion of earth, forming a ring around a fire pit in the middle. there are other people – people that notice them before soonyoung has even laid eyes on them. many flock to greet julkyung once they notice their little group at the edge of the perimeter. most of them don’t notice soonyoung at all, not until cheol is gripping his arm and pulling him to the wayside, around the congregation, and to the circle of tents.

it’s early morning, practically still night, as your small group hikes south of seoul, when soonyoung turns to you and asks a question that makes your stomach drop.

he’s calling for someone, perhaps multiple someones, but soonyoung doesn’t have to guess who. when his eyes meet yours – looking upon you for the first time in what could only be a thousand years – soonyoung crumbles under the weight of the world, and falls into your arms without a moment of hesitation

“what happened to them?”

you don’t respond to him immediately, but soonyoung can feel your discomfort radiate off of you. his hand is laced in yours, and even as you squirm and your skin grows clammy despite the cold, he doesn’t allow you to pull away.

“soonyoung, no,” you mumble, pleading, “i sh - i shouldn’t tell you that. i can’t. it’s bad enough that they’re gone already, isn’t it?”

you can’t see him through the ghost grey of the incoming sunrise, the sky just barely illuminating enough for him to make out your silhouette. you can’t see the way soonyoung’s eyes well with tears at the mention of it, biting at his lips to keep from sobbing again. he should have run out of tears by now.

you’re right. it is already bad enough; enough so that the grief has become a sentient monstrosity that lives and thrives within the hollows of his ribs, a perfect cage to house the creature. soonyoung should grieve, should memorialize the dead in his memory and try to find happiness with the loved ones who are still with him.

soonyoung can’t do that.

he can’t.

you can’t see him, but you can hear him, and you falter as soonyoung stifles his tears and murmurs out a quiet, helpless, “please.”

even so, you’re silent. and who could blame you? what could you even say to him that wouldn’t drag his already tattered soul through glass? you could only imagine how much he had gone through, alone, in the last five years – you couldn’t simply add onto that, let him carry the weight of those deaths with him. they were not his to bear, and yet he begged for them.

“shua was already too far gone when seungcheol and i made it back to the dorms,” you say, quietly, softly, nerves edging your voice as you glance through the trees, “he was infected, i think. i never saw him. nobody did, actually, but we heard him. jeonghan wouldn’t let anybody go into his room when we were packing up to leave.” your eyes peer to the front of the group, where soonyoung knows jeonghan is, talking quietly to seungcheol. there’s an emptiness to him that soonyoung hadn’t been able to place last night. he and shua had practically been soulmates – perhaps that effort was only to protect what was left of him.

soonyoung tries not to think about joshua – beautiful, sweet joshua-hyung – rotting away in his room, skull cracking and splintering open as fungi grows from his brain in swooping branches. even in soonyoung’s imagination, they look like antlers.

the joshua-hyung of his imagination tilts his head into a grievous angle, and clicks at him wildly, making to lunge at him. soonyoung quickly burns that joshua from his mind, squeezing his eyes shut until he sees white.

soonyoung is only partially there as you tell him about wonwoo, who had been bitten protecting chan, how the rest of you tried – god, you tried – to take that arm off in time, to save him, how it was just too much for him. he listens as you tell him that seungkwan had gone alone into a pharmacy to retrieve a medication they needed for jihoon, that nobody had known about spores at the time. you talk about how he changed; as jihoon got better, seungkwan grew more and more sick, until it was clear that there was no hope of him coming back from it. seungcheol was the one to do what was necessary – he was the only one who had the resolve for something like that.

(what you don’t tell him is that jeonghan had begged joshua not to give up, had nearly dragged him out the door kicking and screaming, unwilling to accept leaving him behind. you don’t tell him about the first night, the first sleepless night, sitting outside shua’s door and talking to him, keeping him company as he slowly lost himself in the brain fog. you don’t tell him that chan had curled up at wonwoo’s side for the better part of three days, comforting his hyung as wonwoo grew dimmer and dimmer, until one night he fell asleep and never woke up again. you don’t tell him that chan cried himself hoarse, that your little group had buried wonwoo in a park just outside of the city. you don’t tell him that seungkwan went slowly and painfully, that vernon hid the slow-mounting grief and held firm for his friend until the very end. you don’t tell him that you’d woken up to seungkwan begging for ‘hyung, just do it, just do it please–’ and seungcheol’s responding, thick-voiced ‘i know, hyung is here, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, please forgive me–’’ before the silence set in.)

(you don’t talk about mingyu. soonyoung doesn’t ask.)

you walk together, silent, hands loosely intertwined, for hours, until julkyung is stopping the group next to a small stream to rest and eat. soonyoung doesn’t have an appetite – doesn’t think he could stomach eating even if he tried – and yet you sit beside him quietly, busying yourself by peeling an orange. soonyoung doesn’t want it, he wants you to eat it, if not to give you that tiny ray of happiness, watch it spark in your eyes, but he doesn’t reject it when you begin pushing individual segments into his hand, only after peeling all of the clinging, filmy albedo off of the fruit. you know soonyoung hates the white stuff, hadn’t ever eaten his oranges without spending an inane amount of time making sure they were immaculate, before finishing the entire fruit in a matter of moments.

“young-ah,” you whisper into his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss against the fabric of his sweatshirt, “i love you so much, do you know? and i would do anything to keep you safe.”

“i know,” soonyoung says, because he does – it’s the only thing he knows for certain, outside of his group members – yet he still manages to sound just south of unsure, “i’m going to wash my hands off. they’re - i’m gross right now.”

you mumble after him, something soft and comforting that soonyoung knows would have him melting into you like putty, so it’s a good thing he’s already up, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he reaches the edge of the small creek and submerging his hands inside, sighing at the coldness of the water against his skin. it’s the type of cold that will likely chill him to the bone later, when he least expects it, but for now it’s a comfort. soonyoung doesn’t know the next time they’ll come across clean water until they reach this new camp, if at all.

soonyoung scrubs his hands until the skin is red and raw, until not a speck of dirt remains on them. if it weren’t so cold, he would seriously consider washing his hair. as it was, every follicle would freeze before it had time to dry, and that wasn’t even enough to say that they didn’t have time–

soonyoung’s entire world is turned one-hundred-and-eighty degrees when someone grabs his arm, twisting it around to examine it, forcing his entire body to follow. he’s face to face with julkyung again, but the woman isn’t wearing her usual indifferent facade. she looks at soonyoung as if he’s some sort of wild animal, or a dog with rabies she’s been called to put down.

her hand grips the skin just above a ragged bite scar in his arm. it’s an ugly thing, a pseudo-circular mess of indistinct teeth-marks where a runner had taken him off guard months ago. soonyoung hadn’t even noticed it until hours later, when he was semi-safe in a new hideout, shucking off his layers of clothes until he’d found blood on his long-sleeved shirt. the creature had bitten him through three layers, which would be commendable if soonyoung hadn’t panicked about it for three days straight.

he hadn’t known what to do. he still doesn’t know what to do; the bite is easy enough to forget, but just seeing it every so often is enough to give him anxiety, make him question whether or not the infection might still spread if given the chance.

it hadn’t, but julkyung didn’t know that.

“what the fuck is this?!” she snarls at him, gripping his arm tight enough to bruise, “what the fuck is this! you fucking–”

seungcheol is up the moment he hears the conflict, attempting to put his way between soonyoung and julkyung. “woah, hold on, we don’t have any idea what this means–”

“it means you brought a fucking infected back to my camp!” julkyung cries out, shoving seungcheol back, “what if he’d gotten all the way back to the others before we found out, huh? he could have infected any one of us!”

“don’t be ridiculous!” you hiss, grabbing julkyung’s wrist and ripping her away from soonyoung, holding it with much gentler hands as you inspect it, “this bite isn’t fresh, and soonyoung isn’t infected. if he was, we would be seeing side-effects already, but we’re not!”

with the way julkyung’s face twists up into a snarl, soonyoung is expecting the woman to grow fangs and a set of claws. as it is, he tries not to look at her at all, focusing wholly on your outraged expression, and the way your hand cradles his wrist.

“why are you defending him?!” julkyung sounds an eclectic mess of exasperated and angry, and soonyoung’s chest pushes against your back as you step away from her, right into him. it’s an awkward angle, not that soonyoung cares about awkward anymore, and when something cold presses against his chest, it doesn’t take him long to realise it’s because there’s a rifle hanging off of your shoulder. “we were going to take you people home! you could have a community, an actual life outside of scavenging for scraps!”

“we can still have that,” you say, your voice a placating, deceptive calm, “just not with you people. not if soonyoung isn’t coming.”

soonyoung can’t allow you to say something like that. he spent five years surviving by himself, alone out there – it’s a pain he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. he wants to speak up, spin you around and grab you by your shoulders and say that you can’t do that, he won’t allow you to give up a semblance of civilization for him. selfishly, stupidly, he wonders if you’ll go with him if he’s forced to leave, travel with him for however long you both last.

he won’t do that to you. he would never forgive himself if he were the first to go, and then he thinks, again, that it would never happen to begin with, because his friends – his brothers – would never let him walk that road alone.

“so you’re just going to give it up,” julkyung starts slowly, “for him? for a man you haven’t seen in five years?”

you don’t answer; maybe you feel that you don’t need to. it’s obvious enough what you’re going to choose. from the corner of his eye, soonyoung watches jeonghan tuck his own rifle underneath his arm, hiding only slightly behind seungcheol as he racks a bullet in the chamber.

(the night before, you had bundled soonyoung up in your sleeping bag with you, zipping it closed and curling yourself around him, pressing your face into the prominent bone of his shoulder. “i saw you everywhere we went,” you’d murmured, voice thick with tears. in the frosty half-light of pre-dawn morning, soonyoung could only see a faint outline of your figure entwined with his; even so, he knew that he could map your body blindfolded, trace every subtle feature with the skill only found in the depths of reverence. “i prayed every day that we would find you again, that i could hold you like this and be held once again. and i promised that, should i find you again, i would never let you go.” there’s warmth against soonyoung’s cheeks – he digs himself closer to you and sobs into your hair. “i meant what i said, young-ah. i’ll follow you anywhere, wherever you go.”)

“screw this,” soonyoung hears, a harsh, rasping whisper that comes from behind him, just seconds before a rough hand is grabbing the back of his shirt and throwing him to the ground. he attempts to scoot back, hopefully get his feet under him and stand up, do anything to defend himself, except soonyoung finds his body frozen in place as an older man produces a handgun from the inside of his jacket. “we don’t have time for this, let’s just kill him now and–”

the man gets no chance to finish, sooner interrupted by a deafening bang that seems to shake the very foundation of the earth.

initially, soonyoung is convinced that he was shot, expecting the blooming pain that would come with white-hot metal ripping through his flesh, pressing a hand against his chest to feel for blood. it doesn’t come, though it’s twice as jarring when the man topples sideways in front of him, viscous red pouring from a dime-sized hole in his temple. he trembles briefly from his place in the dirt, before eventually going still, staring into soonyoung with eyes blown wide.

your rifle is no longer slung across your shoulder, now held firmly in your hands, still aimed where the man once was. soonyoung waits for the regret, waits for the shock to set in as you realise you just killed another human being, and yet it never comes. you look at the body in a fluctuating degree of interest, but none of your body language conveyed anything more than mild surprise.

chaos erupts quickly around him. julkyung screams, attempts to grab at your shoulder and whirl you around, one hand grappling for the revolver strapped to her leg. she doesn’t get very far, even as you fumble to hastily rack another bullet – another gunshot crackles through the air, and the tender flesh of julkyung’s neck explodes into visceral bits as the shot tears through her arteries. soonyoung doesn’t have to look to know who the culprit is – he can already see jeonghan stalking forward from the corner of his eye, but sees little else as you grab his collar and drag him back.

julkyung’s sluggishly writhing body is the only thing that stands between what’s left of seventeen and what future lies ahead of them. soonyoung grapples for the knife strapped to his leg, knowing it’s a useless weapon in his circumstance, yet preferring to have at least some chance to defend himself should it come to that.

“none of you move,” seungcheol calls, shooing the others back, until eventually the entire group was moving in step, “not until we’re long gone. we don’t want to kill any more of your people, but if you follow us, we will defend ourselves.”

“they’re going to come after us.”

soonyoung thinks he hears someone snarling at them, spitting vile words or threats or something, but you’re taking him by the arm and pulling him deeper into the woods before he can think about it any longer.

it’s the first time someone has spoken up in hours, and soonyoung recognises the voice to be jeonghan’s.

“they will,” seungcheol says, sounding distant up in the front of the group, “which is why we need to put enough distance between us and them before we set up camp for the night.”

“we should go back to using the watch rotation,” junhui calls from the back, “make sure at least one person is awake to watch for intruders, infected or not.”

“and maybe find somewhere inside to hole up for the night,” vernon mumbles. he’s been quiet, even more so than usual, and soonyoung doesn’t know if it’s because of what transpired earlier, or something that he hadn’t been present for.

there’s a murmur of agreement, and seungcheol quietly starts steering them to what were more populated areas off of the highway. more population means there’s likely to be more infected, but being inside is safer, easier to defend, and will do a better job of blocking out the cold that’s only going to get worse as night falls.

soonyoung thinks he should say something; about the bite, about the implications of his immunity, something, anything. he needs to clear the air, get back on the right track with everybody, as if they’d somehow veered off-course. he opens his mouth, hoping that he would know what to say, and yet nothing comes.

he clamps his mouth shut again. the way his teeth grind together eases the pressure in his skull only minimally, but he doesn’t say anything about it. he’s already put too much pressure on you and the others in the few days he’s been reunited with you.

your hand has migrated from his arm back down to his hand, squeezing intermittently, a reminder of your warmth and your presence right beside him. he squeezes back, if only to feel you squeeze harder.

soonyoung swallows, his throat try and crackling as he searches for the words to say, and without looking, you beat him to it.

“you don’t have to say anything,” you whisper to him, continuing to look ahead, “you need to tell us eventually, soon, but just know that every person in this group will fight for you wholeheartedly. we will never abandon you.”

the ache in his chest doesn’t fade, but soonyoung presses his lips together, and nods. you’ve already proven your loyalty to the group, your devotion to him. wherever you go, wherever you called him to, soonyoung would follow without question.

he would never want for anything but to be by your side.

#seventeen #svt #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung #hoshi svt #the last of us #alternate universe #tlou au #i kinda ate with this #even though it hurt me on a psychospiritual level #i'm not super happy with the ending but it already took me like a month to write so i don't have the energy to change it #oh but i love putting pookie through the ringer #svt hoshi #hoshi x reader

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saintsr · 3 months

Text

“Nothing, you know I’m always very clumsy,” he mentioned with a small smile as he looked down and saw his children quickly release Philza’s grip. “Run, children, it’s already late and even if your teacher is late, you won’t.” The children exchanged a look of doubt and with some resistance they walked away, turning to look at both adults every now and then.

“I’m sorry, sometimes they get that nervous but don’t make them marry

“Miss, how can I not pay attention to them? Look at your hand and your arm looks purple, you wince every time you move it.”

Philza crossed his arms angrily while Missa was surprised that he told her that since no one looked further, he hid it all pretty well or just maybe his defenses fell when he was around the blonde.

“I’m fine and you have to go teach bye bye”

“Missa wait, I know it’s not my place but you no longer look like that person I knew and I know we’re not those young people either but I see you thinner, your dark circles are deeper, it seems like you don’t sleep sometimes you watch everything any noise surprises you but not like before when you tried to know what it was today you just cringe as if you had”

“No, I’m not afraid, I just know, things change, but if you really want to help me, if at some point you don’t see me with the children or they can’t answer you why I didn’t come to leave them, please, take care of them, now.” Don’t just ask if you can take them away and don’t let Bad find out.” After that moment they stared into each other’s eyes, their looks reflected surprise, only the sound of the school bell made them wake up, both of them jumping in their places, to Missa was like a warning, she ran as far as her legs could bear it, in the end she just leaned on the door, she put her injured hand to her mouth and bit it lightly, making it bleed a little more, with a few small screams, tremors. And tears, he got up again to go to the bathroom to look for the first aid kit, his heart leaped with joy. Philza still knew him and with a little courage he managed to say the only thing that mattered to him, maybe only then could he save his children, it was He went to the kitchen grabbing everything he needed to make the food, he turned on music and with that his tears continued to come but it was the onion he was chopping, it was the smoke from the meat he was frying and he forgot to open the windows, it was the chili What he was roasting or the tortillas he was burning, it didn’t matter, it was just something temporary.

Philza was left with a bad taste in her mouth and a feeling of emptiness in her stomach that not even food could fill. She saw the three children sitting alone, leaning on each other, rejecting their friends when they approached to invite them to play. He also saw them counting the coins they were carrying, and taking out an old, wrinkled sheet that they hid for a certain time when someone approached, maybe it was just a surprise for a friend or they were saving for a gift for their parents, it was the safest thing. Or he was just convincing himself that this was normal.

The weekend arrived very quickly, in the Halo-Symphony house it was calm like any other day.

Bad found himself back in his studio looking at old photos from when he and Missa went to school, how he was always next to Philza in each image, how their arms touched, their hands touched or even their silhouettes were coordinated imitating the actions of the opponent, how his images were different, how with him he became reserved, his light was finally his, how in each image it was Bad who stood out and Missa was displaced, finally each time he made his work go away from his hands, he brought Missa to her perfect form, the best pet.

In his hands was also Missa’s old notebook that she used at school, the one she stole, just for fun, you could see drawings of crows in different positions and actions, caricatures of a skeleton cat with a couple of bears, a duck and a shadow, unfinished songs and most importantly her thoughts about Philza, descriptions, a diary about their activities together in and out of school, her emotions towards him along with the most ridiculous their names in hearts, the conjugation of their last names, crossings and stains from pencils, colored pens and erasers that could not be distinguished and at the end a somewhat faded crumpled photo of Philza and Missa. Missa believed that he had lost him but he convinced him that maybe knowing that he felt sadness made him happy was an important part of breaking him further. But now his old one had returned, from a drawer he took out a small notebook that wouldn’t seem interesting if it weren’t for its contents, his little kitty started drawing a little crow again, it was time to make it perfect again. Time.

With a grace he got up from his chair going to the closet, he took a small bottle in his hand, a piece of adhesive tape, along with a set of ropes, his set of keys, with that in hand he went up to the second floor where the rooms were. Of his children locking each one, in any case if they tried to leave they would not be able to open the windows only Missa or he could open them in addition to putting bars on their windows, a security precaution and previously there was a theft of furniture, something unimportant.

#pissa #deathduo #qsmp pissa #q!pissa #reaperduo #MissHalo

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alexanderlightweight · 2 years

Note

It might not be what you were thinking but... what about a sibling (or clary) overstepping either Alec's or Malec's boundaries and Magnus stepping in? Or really anything with Magnus verbally/emotionally defending Alec

No this was great! I wasn’t able to write for a long time so I’m enjoying stretching my muscles; so to say. Thank you anon, this also might not be quite what you wanted but I hope you enjoy!

The trio asking Magnus to steal Alec’s stele goes very differently. This is actually one of my headcanon cause I don’t agree with canons

—

“So you think,” Magnus asks quietly. “That because Alexander is being forced into an arranged marriage, caused by circumstances you three created, that I would be so bitter as to betray him?”

Magnus takes a moment to look at Jace and Izzy, hoping that at least Isabelle will show some shame, or at least common decency. They both look at him stubbornly, firm and set in their own beliefs.

“You are asking me to steal a Clave sanctioned item. A stele only given to the heads of the Institute. The only reason any of you would be able to use it is because Jace is his parabatai and yet you’d still do it? You would still try and get me to help you? Do you know what the Clave would do if they found a warlock had stolen a Commander's stele?” Blank faces greet him and Magnus let out an incredulous laugh. He can’t believe he let his guard down so badly as to get to this point. The shadowhunters in front of him don’t understand or know the consequences and worse, they don’t care.

“Alec isn’t thinking straight. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.” Jace argues back and Isabelle straightens, nodding as they both share a quick look with Clary who gives them a pleased smile.

A chill runs through him as he realizes that if the two in front of him would betray their own brother and parabatai, then they would have no issues sending Magnus to his own death if it benefited them. Alexander could easily be deruned if the Clave found out he had and lost the mortal cup, even if it was only temporary.

Magnus lets his power coil around him and then settles it with a sigh.

“I have helped you not because I care about a single one of you, but because first I was paid, then it was to help the Downworld and lastly, because I wanted to see Alexander again.” He stares at Clary with a distant, almost ancient expression.

“You’re far more like both of your parents than I realized.” He finally says, not acknowledging or perhaps not even noticing Clary’s sharp inhale and stricken expression.

“I will continue to aid you. But only as is strictly necessary, for the safety of the Shadowworld. As far as I’m concerned, whether Alexander gives the cup to the Clave or not, the cup is still safer in his hands until then, than in any of yours.” Magnus shakes out his hands, magic sparking from them as his walls that Alexander has so accidentally climbed, refortify. It is useless to try and endear himself to Alexander by helping his siblings now.

Even if Magnus were to overlook Alexander getting married — which he won’t — it turns out that it still wouldn’t have worked. Jace and Isabelle would have to hold Alexander in the same regard as Alexander holds them, or Magnus’ efforts would be overlooked… just like Alexander’s are. Magnus can’t believe he almost fell into the same cycle that Alexander is still trapped in. He gives a scoff as he looks them over one last time, his heart will no longer soften for any of them.

“Now if you’ll excuse me.” His tone dares them to try and stop him, “I’ll be seeing Alexander about the completion of the wards and his injuries, and then I will be leaving. You may send me a fire message, if you’re desperate. I’ll come when I have time.”

He turns on his heel and walks away, fury smoldering down his spine.

Is he just a tool to every nephilim he meets? Literal children thinking they can compromise Magnus’ morals with their demands and that he will jump to their wishes?

The anger that fuels him is enough to harden his heart against even Alexander, who he’d accidentally let too close too soon.

He snaps his fingers, wanting to know just what exactly he’s walking into when he approaches Alexander’s room.

The last favor he will do Alexander, is telling him of what transpired. It will not be a nice favor, but Magnus is done with being nice.

Alexander isn’t even his lover — will never be his lover now— but the people closest to Alec were willing to use Magnus against Alexander, knowing that they cared for each other.

It’s appalling to a degree that even Magnus didn’t expect a shadowhunter to stoop too.

The wood of the door disappears and he sees Alexander, twirling the stele Magnus was asked to steal and then sighing, putting it aside without drawing a single rune.

The wound on his arm is raw and angry, poison dripping from it instead of blood. Alexander reaches towards it, fingers digging into the cut, but Magnus doesn’t see pain on Alexander's face, he sees heartbreak.

Was it only a few days ago? Magnus wonders if they’d still had a chance then, if they’d ever had a chance. He opens the door without any thought to the consequences.

Alexander looks stunned to see him, the delighted excitement that he shows only to Magnus appears for one bright moment before it’s torn away. Alexander looks at Magnus not in delight, but in such agonized want and pain and self-loathing that it makes Magnus' breath catch and his heart trip.

And then he has to watch as his Alexander becomes Alec. Stone faced and solemn, avoiding Magnus’ eyes and flinching away from his outstretched hand of magic.

Magnus doesn’t let it stop him. He walks, cornering Alexander until he’s sitting on the bed, and then he sits next to him.

Alexander is saying something, but Magnus pays it no mind. Instead he focuses on healing the deep wound and after it’s finished healing, leaving not even a blemish, he wraps the area with a moonspider silk bandage and kisses it, keeping it in place with magic to help soothe the still sore flesh.

“Magnus,” Alexander murmurs, head hanging down and refusing to look at him. “Stop it. Please stop it.” His voice breaks, his attempts to anger Magnus, or whatever he’d tried in the beginning are broken, crumbled under the tenderness of Magnus’ touch.

It’s the hopeless tone of Alexander’s voice that says it all. He wants to be in pain. He wants to be punished. Alexander let himself want and now it’s all being torn away. He’s desperate for someone to blame, especially himself. Alexander wants Magnus to leave and hate him, if only to break that last piece of hope in his chest. But Magnus won’t let him. Magnus won’t let Alexander be a martyr for those who should know better.

Instead, Magnus gently places an arm around Alexander’s tightly drawn shoulders and pulls him closer. Till their side by side and he can afford a steady and warm comfort.

“No Alexander, I don’t think I will.”

#shadowhunters #malec #immortal husbands #fanfiction #writing #my writing #writing wednesdays #writing wednesday #my fic #my ficlets #anon prompt #anon answered #shadowhunters au #my fics #lumine writes #a poison tree

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acrosstimeandspace · 2 years

Text

Puppygeist

in which, the commander learns about greavards

Despite many objections from Professor Laventon, Fae was in the middle of a space-time distortion. They weren’t at their sharpest in the moment, tired from a long day of survey work. But instinct told them to jump into the distortion, and they had very little reason to not follow their instincts at this point in time.

The distortion lit up the night sky above them in an unnatural way, flashing purple, pink, orange in the area around them as they tried to slowly creep forward. The grass brushed against their cheek as they crouched down, eyes flickering between each Pokémon that would pop up with a flash. Luxio, Jolteon, Eevee, Dusclops. All Pokémon they had more than filled up their dex with during the day. And for the most part, they ignored Fae. Another flash lit up the corner of their eye, and they slowly turned their head to see… a candle?

It was strange, a candle with a purple flame. But not like a Litwick, no this candle was so much tinier and just calmly flickering in the wind. Fae glanced at the area around them, spotting the other appearing Pokemon further away from the candle, they began to inch forward.

As they approached, they noted that the candle seemed to be buried in the ground, and how the ground around it wasn’t moved at all despite this. The usual item chucked out of the space-time distortions always created some sort of impact as they landed. But still, perhaps, this was a Pokémon, a Ghost Type?

Just as they were no more than a stone’s throw away, the ground shook and the candle like Pokémon shot out of the ground with a happy yip. It was dog-like in shape, big floppy ears draping down it’s side and fur covering it’s eyes as the Pokémon began to glance around. A Greavard, a Pokémon native to the Paldea region.

They inched forward out of the grass, slowly, and spoke softly, “Hi there, buddy. You got thrown here too?”

The little puppygeist let out a tiny whine before hopping on over to them, throwing his head on top of their knees. They gently let their free hand run through his fur, as their occupied one put back Atlantis, and shifted their hand over to reach for a free pokeball.

“Where am I?” Greavard asked.

“A far place from home, I’m afraid.”

“Can I stay with you? Can you help me back?”

Fae bit their lip. It was so hard to take Pokémon away from these distortions, knowing full well that if they were to be released into the wild they’d be permanently stuck in Hisui. It was why they usually stuck to looting the items they spotted.

“If you stay here, this distortion will end and take you back where you belong.”

“But I’m so lonely! And you give good head rubs.”

“People in this time don’t care for Pokémon all too much now.”

“But you do, so they can’t be that bad!”

They shifted to be kneeling now, Greavard completely on their lap as they fed him all the attention he could ask for. “You have to be careful about your life force taking, then. And we’ll find a way back home, together.”

“Yes, together! I like that much better, my new friend!”

Fae couldn’t help the smile that spread across their lips. “Yes, together. So, just boop your nose here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Greavard wasn’t a Pokémon that Fae ever took to survey work, if they were honest. The happy-go-lucky nature of the puppygeist left a lot of vulnerability, and it struck a fear in their heart that was probably similar to that of a parent over their child.

So they sat outside their temporary house now, watching the Pokémon bound to and fro in the area close by, never straying much from the front door. Anytime a stranger or Galaxy Team member would pass by, the puppy was quickly bounding back to his trainer’s side. It seemed the weariness went both ways.

There was only a few exceptions, and one happened to approach alongside a former ally.

“Good day, Fae. I’m glad to see you taking a day off finally.” Cyllene announced as she approached, nodding to Greavard, who’s tail wagged with a happy intensity. “Mac seems to be in good spirits.”

Mac the Greavard, as he was now formally named by Professor Laventon, yipped in response a happy yes. He was more than familiar with Captain Cyllene for the hours he spent snuggled up with Abra in her office, with treats and belly rubs galore. However, his attitude turned sour as he looked over Commander Kamado, tail no longer wagging.

Kamado responded with equally concealed hostility, straightening like a rod as he looked over the Greavard. He let out only one nod of acknowledgement to the Pokémon, but apparently that was enough affection for Mac to be happy with, as his tail started to wag again.

“He’s quite spirited to be out here.” Was the Commander’s first words about the Pokémon.

“He stays away from people, besides me and the other Survey Corps members.” Fae replied sharply.

“So I see.”

Fae bit back a rude retort in favor of attempting to scoop Mac up onto their lap, which failed spectacularly as he slowly approached the Commander. Just two tiny steps as he awaited for the Commander to respond. He was trying to see if the man was a friend.

Kamado froze for a beat, before kneeling down to meet Mac better. He sat as one would when sitting at a kotatsu, on his knees, as the Greavard approached him further. Fae stood up, leaning forward to try and pull Mac away from the Commander again, but the dog-like Pokémon simply trotted up to him and plopped himself down onto Kamado’s lap, as he had done with Fae.

Both Mac’s trainer and Cyllene stood in silence, mouths agape, as they watched their ever-weary of Pokémon Commander happily pet Mac, a Pokémon. Kamado hummed in satisfaction as Mac’s tail wagged at a concerning speed.

“He’s very eager for attention, I’m surprised he hasn’t asked for more from the people of Jubilife Village.” Kamado broke the silence with his stern voice.

“I…well, he’s as weary of them as they are of him. It’s scary, I mean, to be away from home with no familiar faces, and know the ones around you don’t trust you.”

Kamado stared at Fae, who bit their lip. Perhaps that was what Mac was feeling, and perhaps that was also…

“Well, I am glad that the Galaxy Team is working to bridge such misunderstandings, and work for a better future. For people and Pokémon alike.”

Fae’s lip twitched at that, a small quirk upwards. Kamado gently scooped Mac up before placing him back on solid ground.

“It’s good for you to take days like this off. Get good rest.” Kamado nodded seriously as he rose up, Cyllene following him back to HQ.

But, surprisingly, Mac chose to follow the two, yipping happily about his new friend. Kamado only stared at the dog, and then Fae with his brows drawn together.

“Well,” Fae explained, stifling a chuckle, “The thing about Greavards is that, once they get just a little bit of affection, they become immediately attached to that person.”

“Ah.”

#pla!fae #self insert #self insert writing #pokemon #pokemon self insert

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shaelashaela · 10 months

Text

Side Story: The Bath

[cw] physical intimacy, mortality [reading time] 8½ mins.

Side stories are scenes that I wanted to write, but they don’t fit into the narrative of the main stories. They don’t advance any particular plot, but provide some more depth to the world and characters.

“Ma che bell’!”

Rayna stepped into the living room of our suite, awestruck by everything around her. The room was decked in wood and brass, with warm lighting and cozy linens. Hand-painted scenes of nature and wildlife hung on the walls, clad in over-ornate frames. It was more like a small apartment than a hotel room, complete with couches and a kitchenette.

I closed the door quietly behind us and watched as she ran straight for the giant bed and flopped down on it. The whole thing bounced, and she giggled. I smiled to myself. The room had the effect I desired.

“I can’t believe it, Sylvie!” she said excitedly. “This place is huge. I can’t wait to actually sleep without elbowing each other.”

I dropped our overnight bag on the nearby dresser and sat down beside her. “I thought it would be nice to have an actual rest after all we’ve been through. A little irresponsible splurging now and then doesn’t hurt.”

Her eyes formed into joyful crescents. “Yeah, I guess spending your money isn’t so bad after all. I don’t want to make a habit of it, though.”

I smiled and ran my fingers through her hair. I still didn’t understand why she was so hesitant to let me pay for things. Pride, maybe? Humans could be just as bad as elves in that regard. I made sure not to say anything this time. I didn’t want another bracelet incident.

Her expression darkened a bit. “I don’t understand. If you could live like this, why would you stay in my cramped little loft?”

I laughed. “Well, I can’t live like this. Not if I want my savings to last, anyway.”

She sat up so she could untie her boots and kick them off. “You know what I mean. You used to live in a pretty nice place with real rooms and a fireplace. A frickin’ fireplace! I’d love one of those.”

“Are you saying you want me to move out?”

She flopped back down beside me, jostling the bed. “No, you dolt. You can stay with me as long as you want. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

I grinned and caressed her face lightly with my fingertips. She playfully chomped her teeth at the air when they got close, bringing a goofy smile to my lips.

“To be honest, it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing,” I replied. “I really wanted to move out of my apartment after… you know. It was just easy to throw things in storage and come live with you. I thought it would be temporary, but now I can’t really imagine being anywhere but with you and the shop. I love you, I love books. It all works out.”

“Aha! You just want me for my old, dusty tomes.”

I gave her a wry smirk. “Why can’t you just accept that I love you? No strings attached. I don’t care about where we live or who pays for it.”

She sat up and frowned, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Sorry if I keep making a big deal about it… it’s complicated.”

“Tell me about it, then?”

“Nah, let’s not ruin the mood.”

She dodged me again, both physically and metaphorically, as she jumped up from the bed to inspect the adjacent room. I folded my hands on my lap and waited patiently.

Rayna suddenly turned back to face me and made an overly dramatic enunciation of each word while she pointed into the other room. “The. Bathtub. Is. Ginormous.”

I grinned back at her. “Then go take a bath!”

“Oh, I will,” she confirmed and disappeared into the bathroom. “Hold my calls!”

Well, at least she was happier than I’d seen her in a while. I busied myself by unpacking our clothes while flowing water echoed off the walls in the adjacent room. After a few minutes, I heard Rayna slip into the bath with a few brief complaints about it being a little too hot. She let out an audible sigh that reverberated off the tiles, and I imagined she finally relaxed. It warmed my heart to know such a simple thing could bring her joy.

I kicked off my shoes and settled on the bed with one of my books. I tried my best to focus on a technical treatise on crystal refraction, but my mind was still mushy from the ordeal in the Wintervale. It made it difficult to focus for more than a few sentences. No, I couldn’t blame the adventure in the fey realms this time. Something nagged at the back of my brain and wouldn’t let me think about anything else.

I sighed and threw the book down on the bed.

Sneaking quietly into the bathroom, I tiptoed over Rayna’s discarded clothing. She laid back in the tub with water up to her shoulders, eyes closed, and a smile on her lips. Giant poofs of soapy bubbles obscured everything but her face. True to her word, the bathtub was in fact quite large and made of red and white marble with brass fittings, truly a tub fit for royalty.

My eyes fell upon the spider red scars that cross her neck and chest, and through the bubbles I could just barely see the jagged scar that cut across her right bicep. Both were my fault. No matter what, though, she refused to let me accept the blame for them. I sighed.

The shroud of foam covering her skin ignited my imagination, but I forced myself to focus. I needed to talk to her before I let my feelings run rampant again. I took a seat on the edge of the tub but didn’t say anything. Not because I was trying to be creepy, but I just couldn’t figure out how to open the conversation.

She must’ve heard my defeated exhalation. She opened her eyes and smiled. “What’s on your mind, Shaela-Shaela?”

“I… I wanted to talk about something. It’s, uh… difficult for me, though.”

“Take your time. As you can see, I’m a captive audience at the moment.”

Her attempt at humour was cute, but unfortunately, it did little to calm my nerves. I took a breath and opened my mouth, and then did so three or four more times. Rayna, bless her heart, just waited patiently for me to fumble through it.

I finally squeezed out one word. “Sunday.”

Rayna narrowed her eyes, trying to puzzle out what I meant. Then realization raised her eyebrows, and she pursed her lips. “Right, Sunday… you mean what happened that night?”

I nodded mutely.

Now it was her turn to figure out how to start, and her brow furrowed with deep thought. “You left me a note. That was sweet of you, but you shouldn’t have apologized. It was my fault.”

My shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to argue about whose fault it was. Maybe I don’t owe you an apology, but I do feel I owe you an explanation.”

“Okay,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt. “I’ll just be honest: I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never felt about anyone like I do about you, and I still don’t understand what that means for me… ah, physically, if you understand me.”

She leaned forward and placed her hand on my arm, scattering bubbles all over my sleeve. “I know. You don’t have the words, maybe, but you’ve tried your best to explain it before. I love you, but I don’t want to love you in a way that hurts you or that you’re not ready for.”

I uttered a shaking laugh, so nervous that I couldn’t even look at her. I wasn’t used to talking about these things. At least Rayna had somehow understood at least a small part of what I had trouble describing. I don’t think I could ever boil it down to words. Sometimes, I really wanted to express myself physically, give her everything. Other times, the very thought of it repulsed me.

She leaned back against the tub again. “And, again, I’m really sorry for hurting you. You’re not like anyone I’ve been with before, and I don’t understand the boundaries yet. I just hope I didn’t screw things up too bad.”

I smiled to myself and met her eyes with mine for the first time since I sat down. That was one of the things I appreciated about her. When things got a little messed up, she was great at keeping things grounded. When I lost myself in my emotions, she was my guiding light.

“No… you didn’t,” I replied quietly. “I want to share myself with you. I really do. All I can say is I’m going to mess things up, too. We’re both kind of lost, aren’t we?”

She gave me one of her wide, gorgeous smiles. “Well, at least we found each other.”

I nodded and ran my hand through the bubbles and the water. It felt pleasantly warm. “I’m a little jealous of your bath.”

“Yeah, it’s doing wonders for my sore muscles,” she said and stretched her arms over her head for emphasis. “You’re welcome to join me.”

She waggled her eyebrows at me, a goofy expression that let me know she was just joking.

Another nervous giggle escaped my mouth, and I turned away so she couldn’t see me blush. And yet, I wasn’t really all that nervous. At least not the afraid kind of nervous… more like excitement? Anticipation? It was hard to describe. We wouldn’t get another chance to enjoy a bath like this anytime soon, though, so it’d be a shame to waste the opportunity.

I stood up and pulled my blouse over my head, which took some effort with limited mobility in one arm. I probably looked silly, tugging at it one-handed. Then I slipped my skirt off. Rayna watched and shifted uneasily, completely uncertain of my intention. Then the undergarments came off, and she covered her face. I caught a glimpse of her beet-red cheeks, though. Despite us living in a small space together for a short while, we’d never seen each other fully naked. I grinned. I loved turning the tables on her every once in a while. Pulling my long hair up into a bun, I dipped one foot into the warm water.

Rayna steadied herself with the sides of the tub as the water sloshed back and forth. “Wait, Sylvie! I don’t think there’s actually enough room—!”

I dropped into the bath with her, and water spilled over the sides of the tub, spreading bubbles all over the floor and our clothes. In the same motion, I fell into her arms, and Rayna giggled. I slid into place so that my back was up against her chest, and she placed a few small kisses on the side of my neck.

“There’s enough room,” I stated proudly.

“You little imp,” she whispered and nuzzled me behind the ear.

I turned my head and leaned back so our eyes could meet. I loved looking into her gorgeous brown eyes. After a few breaths, I pressed my lips to hers and closed my eyes. It felt good just to focus on the soft touch of her mouth and on the little movements of our lips. The heat of the water and our bodies relaxed me in a way that washed away my fears from earlier.

She kept her hands on my waist, making sure not to wander. I wanted her to, though. It was an odd and sudden feeling as lascivious thoughts went through my mind. Even a fey Queen couldn’t evoke the way Rayna brought love into my heart. I touched my fingers lightly to her arm under the water while our kiss deepened, and I followed her forearm down to her wrist and then to her hand, placing my own over hers. I urged her hand lower with a slight nudge.

Rayna pulled away from our kiss, and I opened my eyes to see hers filled with concern.

“Sylvie, what’re you doing?” she asked.

My mouth turned upward into a little smile. “Trusting you to be gentle. Go slow.”

he swallowed, and her eyes darted around like she was trying to process what I said. “Okay, okay… but if you want me to stop, just say so. No shoving this time, capeesh?”

I nodded. “I promise I’ll say something.”

Rayna’s smile returned even wider, and she closed her eyes so she could kiss me again. I returned the gesture eagerly, mimicking the hungry motions of her mouth from a few nights ago. It felt weird and exhilarating.

I turned my body towards her and let her fingers wander…

We lay together in the darkness, snuggled under the covers of the massive bed. The feeling of being clean and dressed in fresh pyjamas was one of those minor pleasures in life that I cherished. I laid my head on Rayna’s chest and just listened to her heartbeat. My skin still felt warm, partly from the bath, partly from my girlfriend’s body, and partly from the afterglow of an exquisite orgasm. I don’t know how, but it felt entirely different from when I did it on my own. Unfortunately, it also made me profoundly sleepy, and I felt a little bad about not reciprocating. Rayna reassured me she was fine with our first time just being a little treat for me.

She hummed a lulling tune, and it reverberated through her chest and into my ear. I smiled as a bit of her magic washed over me and soothed me. I don’t think she even knew she was casting a spell, it was just something that came naturally to her. A stray thought entered my brain: she would be an amazing mother.

I shifted a little and kissed the underside of her chin. “Not sleepy?”

She brushed her hand against my cheek. “Mmm… just thinking.”

“About?”

“The future, I suppose. Have you ever wondered what it would be like… you know… years from now?”—she chuckled—“God, I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think there was a future for us. As I’m sure you’ve realized by now, flings aren’t really my thing.”

“Yeah, it just… scares me a little. You’re the first person who’s made me think about it seriously. Maybe because…”

I was fairly certain of what worried her. “Because I’ll outlive you? Is that what you’re worried about?”

She squirmed. I could tell she was uncomfortable with the conversation, but she answered anyway. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay. I think about that too sometimes. But also I remember James.”

“Pardon?”

I laughed. “Sorry. James’ wife Dael—she was an elf, remember? I told you about it.”

“Oh, oh… right.”

“They must’ve seen some way to make it work. And then… despite whatever plans they made, Dael passed away first. I think what I’m trying to say is, maybe try not to worry about what might be, because it’ll probably be different than what you imagine. Just enjoy today and take it one step at a time.”

She didn’t respond right away. What I said was probably not as comforting as I thought it was.

“Sorry, was that too morbid?” I asked.

She kissed my forehead. “Maybe you’ve thought about this even more than I have.”

“Overthinking is a speciality of mine.”

Rayna let out a more relaxed laugh that reassured me. She hugged me tight, but at that point we were both done with heavy conversations for the night. Slowly, quietly, sleep crept into the room and overtook us both, and I slipped away into the most peaceful rest of the last few weeks.

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cosmiclove-heavenstruck · 3 years

Text

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –”

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

“Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

“Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

#Harry Potter #Harry James Potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #fluff #oneshot #my writing #angst #slow burn

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born.

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him.

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it.

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive.

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n.

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied.

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?”

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered.

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better.

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable.

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving.

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness.

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James.

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned.

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked.

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.”

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless.

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister.

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter.

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room.

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.”

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort.

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser.

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

1K notes · View notes

fangirlshrewt97 · 2 years

Text

Tale As Old As Time ... (Part 10)

Alright folks, strap in, today’s is a bit of a rollercoaster for poor Bhairava. But don’t worry nothing bad happens. It’s also a longer chapter than the previous ones.

Let me just add the wonderful additions people have created. Here is a doujin manga style comic from @sally-for-sally, where she predicted how today’s chapter would go. Find it here. And @bromance-minus-the-b created another lovely moodboard which can be found here.

Full work Ao3 Link.

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

///

Bhairava stirred to the sound of crowing roosters, yawning and blinking away tears as he opened his eyes. He stretched from his curled up position, reaching to the headboard as he arched his back, groaning at the pull in his muscles as he let himself fall back in bed.

He banged his ankle against his anklet, wincing at the sting of pain. He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his grin into his pillow as he thought of the previous night. When he closed his eyes he could still taste the soft skin against his lips. He couldn’t believe he had done that. He couldn’t believe the King had allowed him that.

The King… Bhairava jumped up to sit on his knees. The King was leaving today!

Bhairava rushed to his bedroom doors, throwing them open and running as far down the corridor as possible. If he leaned forward enough, he could just make out the entrance gate, but nothing else. Still, he waited, shivering as the cool rays of the sun brushed against his bare arms.

There! Bhairava could barely see as a group of five riders rode out, a familiar figure in all black leading them. His heart beat hard against his chest. He stayed there till they were out of view, and the guards closed the gate.

He walked back to the room, running a hand through his hair. He fell back in bed on his back, staring up at the canopy ceiling.

He covered his face with his hands. They hadn’t even done anything. But Bhairava had replayed the night of the Shivaratri many times in his head. If nothing else, clearly the King would not…object to his…affections?

“I do not think all the treasures in the world would equal your cost Kala Bhairava.”

Bhairava felt out of his depth, he had no idea what he was doing and there was a good possibility he was going to make a fool of himself. At the same time, he felt like he could fly, because the King’s touch, the King’s gaze, they lit him up from the inside.

Nandhini had asked him if he had ever had anyone besides the Princess. He wasn’t sure how much of the Princess he had had. He knew he loved her, and if in another world they had been given a chance, he knew he would have been happy and done everything in his power to keep her happy.

And his other tumbles, they had been just that. Single nights of temporary pleasure that he either regretted or forgot about soon enough. But the King…

It scared him, how much he was already feeling for the King, how much he cared.

He wondered how much he could trust his feelings because when all said and done he was still a prisoner. He didn’t talk to anyone else in the palace but the ones King had sent his way. He only ever left when under Tapan’s supervision. He didn’t want to doubt Tapan. Or Nandhini. He doubted they would actually hide some nefarious thing from him. But his freedom was also very limited.

And yet, there would be moments, like what the King had said last night. Or the way he had…the King had knelt before Bhairava. Put Bhairava’s foot upon his own thigh. And Bhairava, maybe he was a fool, but he couldn’t help but feel that all meant something more. To the King too.

And now he was meeting the King’s family. He had mentioned brothers. That meant multiple.

Would they be like the King? Would they have the same hard exterior? Would they be gruff or nicer? Not that the King wasn’t nice or generous.

Bhairava sat up.

He should get up if he wanted to be ready by the time Tapan came to escort him. He had been thankful to learn the man would accompany them at breakfast. Yes it would be odd a guard ate with the royal family but at least Bhairava would have a familiar face nearby for support if the brothers asked him any questions.

Would Bhairava even know how to answer them?

As he sorted through the wardrobe for something to wear his fingers hit the box with the earrings where his old earrings sat buried at the bottom. A pang of guilt hit him.

He had only been here a month, but already he was forgetting home. Had Princess Mithravinda gotten married? Shouldn’t he have cared more? Was their love not as genuine as he thought? Was he betraying his home by starting to find comfort here? Or by developing feelings for a King?

Bhairava shook his head, a wave of nausea suddenly twisting at his gut. He had a breakfast to get prepared for.

///

“Will you stop! You are making me nervous with all that fidgeting!” Tapan hissed at Bhairava who looked away guiltily as he tugged at his kurta for the nth time.

“That is because you won’t tell me anything! A little warning would be appreciated.” Bhairava hissed back, glaring mildly at his friend.

Tapan snorted. “Bhairava garu believe me, as much as you think forewarning you to the King’s brothers will help, I know it will not. Mostly because they are…them.”

“Very helpful.” Bhairava muttered, scowling when Tapan jolted his shoulder and winked at him.

Bhairava instead studied the hallways they were walking. It was an entirely new wing of the palace, and it felt…cozier. Less like a palace meant to demonstrate the power and wealth of the rulers, and more a home to live in. The colors were warmer and there were a lot of nooks to sit and relax or talk with friends. There were also a lot more windows and open hallways, letting the light flood in. There was still a sense of loneliness that permeated the air though.

“Here we go.” Tapan said, obnoxiously cheerful, as the pair reached a large door. Bhairava dug his fingernails in to keep from swallowing his tongue. Dread and anxiety mixed in his gut, further lowering his appetite.

From the doorway he spied two figures who looked to be arguing in whispers. They had the same sort of build, but where one was in a light blue kurta with hair neatly styled to sit flat, the other wore a bright green kurta that hurt Bhairava’s eyes a little. He also had longer hair than even Bhairava, falling past his shoulders, and had it tied half up. Tapan tugged him inside.

There was only a few feet between them when Tapan cleared his throat causing the two brothers to look their way.

Bhairava froze, mouth dropping to the floor as he wondered if maybe he had hit his head on the bathroom floor that morning.

The brothers…their faces were identical. To each other. And to the King. The same straight nose, the same broad forehead, the same curved jaw and the same onyx eyes.

Well.

Not the same.

Neither sent the thrill down his spine the way the King’s eyes did.

He became aware that while he had been inspecting them, the brothers had stood up and were looking at him with the same curious glance.

Tapan started to snicker at his side, and when Bhairava turned to him with a betrayed look, he started laughing so hard tears collected at the corner of his eye.

“Traitor!” Bhairava growled, causing the man to laugh louder. He startled when someone cleared their throat in front of him, only to be met with one of the brothers. The one with the neat hair. It really was startling how similar but how different the brothers looked.

The brother looked sheepish. Bhairava could not imagine that expression on the King’s face. “Forgive me…”

“Bhairava.” Bhairava responded automatically.

“Right. Bhairava garu. I suppose no one thought to mention that we were…ah…triplets.” he finished lamely.

Bhairava’s mouth was still hanging open. “Trip…lets…” he repeated dumbly.

Then it hit him like a lightning bolt. “It was you! You were the one at the temple! I wasn’t crazy!”

That statement may as well have been a rock thrown through a glass window. Tapan stopped laughing, hiccuping into his next breath. And both brothers froze where they stood, the one closer to him still having his wide smile, but his black eyes were filled with panic.

He laughed nervously. “Bhairava garu, I don’t know what you mean…”

Bhairava shook his head. “No, at the temple, during Shivaratri. You were the one who gave the speech….dressed as the King…why did you give the speech?”

“I think you are mistaken-”

“Don’t.” Bhairava said, more harshly than he intended. But he knew what he saw. Those onyx eyes had not belonged to the King. They had belonged to the man standing in front of him. The one with the softer eyes.

“Bhaira-”

“Lava stop.” the other brother piped up. “Annayya let him meet us. I think that means we can tell him the truth.”

“But Kusa…” Lava replied nervously.

Kusa came forward to stand beside his brother. They really were identical. Except the eyes. All their eyes held very different things inside them. And the way they carried themselves.

Tapan had been right, even if he had told Bhairava, there was no way he would have known what to expect.

Kusa ran an assessing eye over him before shrugging. “So you are the one Nandhini has been raving about. I was expecting something else. I guess you have nice eyes?”

Lava elbowed Kusa as Bhairava frowned. “Excuse me?”

Lava laughed nervously again. “Nothing Bhairava garu, my brother just sometimes speaks without filtering.”

Bhairava smiled with a lot of teeth that had Lava swallowing and Kusa rearing up behind him. “Yuvaraja with all due respect. I find those types of people are the most honest. I would like to hear his thoughts.”

Kusa gave him the smarmiest smirk he had seen in a long time. His fingers itched with the urge to throw a punch. “Well from the way Nandhini was going on and on about how…pretty your eyes were and your hair and how you looked in all the jewellery, I guess I expected…someone with less muscles.”

Bhairava clenched his jaw, reminding himself that this was the King’s brother and he could not punch him. “Apologies for disappointing.”

Tapan cleared his throat. “Right, I am hungry. Yuvarajas, if we may?”

Lava shot Tapan a grateful look past a glaring Bhairava and pushed Kusa back towards the table, shoving him into his seat. The seat at the head of the table remained empty. Tapan sat opposite of Kusa while Bhairava sat in front of Lava.

“So…Bhairava garu. Tell us about yourself!” Lava said, eagerness returning. Bhairava stared at him. This man felt like the personification of a newborn puppy. How was he related to the King?

“Um. What do you want to know?” Bhairava inquired as he reached for a cup of water.

“Have you fucked our brother yet?” Kusa asked as he tore at a naan.

Bhairava choked, coughing as the water burned going down the wrong pipe. Tapan hit his back while Lava punched at Kusa’s arm, glaring at him. It was the most ineffective glare Bhairava had ever seen.

Kusa for his part scowled and focused on his plate.

“Again, apologies for Kusa. What he meant to say was-”

“I meant what I said, just cause you don’t like it, OW!”

Lava had pinched Kusa and both brothers were now staring each other down.

Tapan grabbed a guava from the fruit bowl and threw it at Kusa, hitting him right above his ear.

“Tapan!” Kusa growled.

Tapan merely raised an eyebrow as he drank his water. “Stop being a dick. Bhairava garu is a nice person, and a good man. Whatever you think you are doing is not working. And I doubt Maharaj would be happy to find out about your interrogation.”

“And how would he find out?” Kusa challenged as he looked back at Bhairava.

Bhairava rose up, biting back the growl at the implication he would tattle, sitting as straight as he could as he met Kusa’s look. “I am perfectly capable to standing up for myself.”

“Then we should be fine.” Kusa retorted.

Lava’s head thumped against the table. “This is a disaster.”

Bhairava agreed.

Luckily the servants chose that moment to come in with the food, serving them all before retreating back. They ate breakfast quietly, Lava trying his best to talk with Bhairava who answered him politely but exactly. Tapan interjected every once in a while with additions about Bhairava or their trips around town. Kusa mostly kept silent, still glaring at Bhairava.

Near the end of dinner, Kusa finally spoke again. “So, Bhairava. What exactly are you doing here?”

Lava knocked against Kusa’s shoulders but nodded. “It is a fair question Bhairava garu.”

“Your brother hasn’t told you?” Bhairava asked in surprise.

Both brothers exchanged looks. “Annayya is…not the most talkative.”

An unpleasant sensation curled around his stomach. Could he really have been imagining things? Why would the King not talk about him to his brothers? But then, why would he? Bhairava was just …fuck. He didn’t know. Why would the King talk about some guy to his family?

He shrugged, keeping the turbulent storm building in his chest off his face. “Maharaj-”

“KUSA!” A voice roared from the door the servants had entered through. Kusa cursed and stood up, but didn’t get far before a woman entered the dining hall, wielding a large kitchen knife.

“Arunama…” Kusa said as he turned on his heel, throwing her his most charming smile. “My day was looking so gloomy, but after seeing your face it is like all the flowers are in bloom.”

The woman was short, shorter than Nandhini, with a severe face of wrinkles. But she held her back straight and her aura was of one used to giving orders. Arunama…the cook? What was with the familiarity the royal family had with their servants and vice versa? It was dizzying, both how casual the King had been with giving Nandhini a spare Laddu, or this woman looking ready to hit a Prince. Tapan had called the King’s brother a dick! What the hell…

“How many times do I have to tell you you are not allowed in my kitchen!” she barked out.

Kusa winced as Lava buried his face in his hands. Tapan was staring intensely at the table, but only when Bhairava took in his trembling shoulders did he realize it was to prevent himself from laughing.

“I haven’t been in the kitchen since last week!” Kusa protested.

“I found another dead rat. Next to a bowl of payasam.” Arunama said.

Kusa sniffed, “Sounds like you should clean your kitchen more often.”

Lava’s jaw dropped and even Tapan looked at Kusa like he was crazy.

Arunama threw her knife, making Kusa yelp and duck. The knife flew past where he had been standing to embed itself on the floor. Bhairava was impressed. That was a good throw. “Arunama!”

“I don’t care if you are the brother of the King, next time you step foot in my kitchen I am chopping it off and feeding it to you, do you hear me? I have a palace to feed, I cannot be running around after you as you create noxious concoctions. And then don’t clean up after yourself!”

“Arunama, I am trying to learn to cook!” Kusa whines.

“Do it elsewhere!” the woman shouted before whirling around to face the trio at the table. As one they all sat up as straight as possible. They did not make eye contact with her or each other. “You, new one.”

Bhairava stiffened before he lifted his gaze. “Uh, yes?”

“Are you the soldier Maharaj has been squirreling food away to?”

Bhairava swallowed. Nodded.

“Do you have a problem with my food?”

Bhairava shook his head violently. “No madam, it is delicious, the best I’ve ever had.”

The woman, Arunama, squinted at him. “Are you lying to me?”

“No madam.”

“Then why did I get three days of meals untouched back to my kitchen?”

Bhairava winced. “Forgive me madam…I uh…I wasn’t sure whether I could trust it?”

“What? you thought I would allow someone to poison my food?”

“No, uh, no madam that isn’t…” Bhairava shut up when she pointed the knife at him. “Kusa, stay right where you are.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Kusa had indeed tried to escape while the woman was distracted. Was he really that stupid?

“Aruna-”

“Shut up.” She barked, still looking at Bhairava. “You. What’s your name?”

“Bhairava madam.”

“Listen here then, Bhairava garu,” and Bhairava shivered, he hadn’t known how much derision could be injected into that title, “you send something back to my kitchen untouched I will feed you your own tongue. Are we clear?”

Bhairava …did not squeak. Outright. But close. He nodded his head so hard his neck hurt.

The woman harrumphed. “And it’s Arunama, none of this ‘madam’ nonsense.”

“You,” Arunama said as she spun on her heel and stalked towards Kusa who looked ready to bolt. “You are coming with me.”

She reached up, nearly going on her tiptoes and grabbed Kusa’s ear, pulling him with her as she returned through the entry she had used. Kusa talked the whole way, switching between apologizing and complimenting the woman who ignored him entirely.

The trio watched in silence.

“She won’t …actually kill him will she?” Lava asked at last.

Tapan shrugged. “Unlikely, Arunama only prepares the best food, and I doubt Kusa would taste nice, Yuvaraja.”

Lava glared at him while Tapan giggled.

Lava sighed and shook his head. He looked at Bhairava. “Apologies Bhairava garu. I assure you this was not how I had expected our first meeting to go. I hope you will agree to meet with us a second time? If we haven’t scared you away completely?”

Bhairava smiled at that and bowed his head. “Not at all Yuvaraja. It has been an…interesting first meeting.”

Lava gave him a weak smile and rose from his place, telling them to finish their food in peace. He would go ensure his brother was not suffering. Too greatly.

Bhairava watched as Lava left the room. Next to him, Tapan continued to happily stuff his face.

Bhairava hit his shoulder. Tapan whined with a full mouth. He finished swallowing his mouthful. “What?”

“How can you still eat?”

Tapan looked at him like he was crazy. “Because I have exclusive access to food made by Arunama’s hand. I am not passing that up. The food at the guard’s mess is good and all but it is not this.”

Bhairava sighed and let him eat, carefully cleaning his plate too.

“So, what did you think of the princes?”

Where to begin? They were…It was hard to believe they were related to the King. Lava, so soft and worried all the time, such a contrast to the confidence and power the King exuded. And Kusa, obnoxious and crass where the King was reserved and well-mannered. Both of them clearly shared a deep bond, and also clearly respected the King. Bhairava suddenly desperately wished the King was there, that he could see how the man was with his brothers.

He wished he stood on solid ground.

“Is it always so…”

“Chaotic?”

Bhairava nodded.

“Pretty much.” Tapan confirmed.

Bhairava sighed. “They are…unlike what I expected.”

That at least they shared with their brother.

///

It was late, and Bhairava could not sleep. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets, powerful enough to knock a person over. He slid one of the daggers the King had given him in out of the scabbard. He sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard. He tossed it in the air, watching it spin twice before it fell, and he caught it by the handle. He tossed it again, hypnotized by the way the silver flashed against the dim light of the lamps he had left alight. He kept repeating the toss, moving faster. He felt his breath pick up.

Sliding out of bed with the dagger still in hand, Bhairava went to stand at the foot of the bed so he would have a decent floor space. He tossed the blade in the air again, higher. He did it again, tossing it a little away from him so he had to step forward to catch it. He sped up his movements, tossing in more twirls and complicated twists as he spun around with the blade. He added the other blade to his exercises.

He stopped when his chest was heaving, and in spite of the chill from the thunderstorm outside he had drops of sweat on his brow. Wiping them away, he moved to another starting position. He put away one of the blades. This time he moved slightly slower, using only his left hand. When he finished, he felt the triumphant smile on his face match the warmth in his chest. It had been so long since he had had a chance to practice with weapons. His arms were starting to feel the burn after nearly a month without use.

A month. It had been a month since he had volunteered to stay behind so Princess Mithravinda could be returned home. Twenty days since he had had that first dinner with the King. Just a few since he had met Tapan and Nandhini, gotten to know more about the King. Just three days since he had met Lava and Kusa. It felt like a lifetime.

He hadn’t tried to invite himself to another breakfast with the brothers just yet, instead asking Tapan to show him more of the city. The King was due tomorrow morning. Bhairava’s heart pounded. He could still recall the taste of that soft skin against his lips. The press of those hands against his jaw. His scalp still tingled from phantom fingers every night.

Regulating his breathing as he came down from the rush of exercising, Bhairava went to the giant mirror, looking at his reflection. In so many ways he looked the same. His hair had grown a centimeter or two, he had lost a little muscle from not keeping up with his rigorous physical training. His bindi was still his favorite crescent shape, and he was still able to hold his head high at the pride of being one of King Vikram’s best soldiers. But in many others, it felt like a stranger.

The golden rings hanging from his ears had a diamond he could never have afforded. The ruby pendant was a grounding force against his ribcage. The simple golden circles of his armlets emphasized the size of his biceps but also made them more …feminine. As did the rings on his index and middle fingers, simple metallic bands that clicked against the pommel of the dagger. He wore a sleeveless cotton top and black cotton pyjamas, both more luxurious than any he had had in Udaigarh. And his feet…those golden anklets that were becoming more and more familiar each day. He sank down, sitting cross-legged, with his knees practically touching the mirror. He ran a finger across the golden bands, the smooth touch of the ruby contrasting the coolness of the surrounding metal.

He looked at his face. He had grown softer in general from weeks spent eating and walking with no training. He had a little more fat around his tummy, and even his face had grown rounder. The kajal around his eyes were faded, but he ran a finger over them anyways. All because of one man.

He also stood taller, lighter. Like there had been some burden he hadn’t realized he had been carrying that he didn’t have to carry here. There was a carelessness he didn’t recognize, from being allowed to just live, not worrying about anything.

He brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them as he buried his face into the space between them. The stone floor was cold, and he was barefoot. But the coldness running through his body was different. He was alone.

His parents were dead, his uncle had his own life to care for, the Princess would likely be married by now, or getting ready to be. The King would find a replacement easily enough. Where did he fit in? He missed home, but did anyone there miss him? Was there anything that he had been so crucial for?

And here he was, again a stranger in a land that was slowly but surely becoming more familiar. There were so many secrets, so much that seemed to be one thing, but turned out to be another.

King Raavana.

Goosebumps raced down his arms as he thought of those onyx eyes. Every time he was next to the King, or talking to him, or just in the same room, his senses pricked up. Was the King dangerous? Undeniably. Was he capable of hurting Bhairava? Easily. Was he devastatingly handsome and unbearably kind? Bhairava bit his lip as he curled into himself.

“I do not think all the treasures in the world would equal your cost, Kala Bhairava.”

Bhairava whined into his knees. What did that man want with him?

Just then he heard a scuffle. The storm was still raging outside.

Then. Again. The undeniable sound of footsteps. At this hour? It was well past midnight.

Bhairava grabbed the dagger he had dropped next to him, crouching low as he moved to the door. The footsteps were getting closer.

He went to stand next to the door, pressing himself to the wall as he tightened his grip on the blade.

The doorknob turned slowly, and Bhairava cursed himself for getting complacent and not locking it.

A large figure entered the room, the door slowly swinging shut behind him. The figure was wearing a jet black cloak, and paused at the sight of Bhairava’s empty bed.

Bhairava moved, reflexes still fast, so that he was pressed against the figure’s back, right hand holding a knife to the figure’s throat as he grabbed at the intruder’s right hand with his left, pinning them both between them.

The figure froze.

“Who are you?” Bhairava hissed.

Bhairava did not expect the stranger’s speed, as the man kicked one leg back sending Bhairava’s knee buckling. The stranger grabbed his right hand with his left, spinning around and slamming them both against the wall beside the door. Bhairava felt all his breath escape him, but he still fought against the hold. The arm he had pinned now pinned him back, fingers curving into his hip and digging in. The grip tightened until he cried out, nearly dropping the dagger.

The altercation was over in a minute. At some point, the stranger’s hood had fallen back.

A flash of lighting lit up the room, and Bhairava gasped.

He found himself staring into familiar onyx eyes.

“Maharaj!”

///

The last bit was obviously because @burningsheepcrown dropped this on me.

///

Feedback is appreciated.

Tagging (Please please work, Tumblr I beg you): @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @junebugyeahhh @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fangirl-from-discord @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @m3gs1mps4a @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @ssabriel @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff @veteran-fanperson @ohfuckoffpls

#rrr #jai lava kusa #jai kumar #jai x bhairava #jairava #bhairava #kala bhairava #magadheera #my fic #my writing #taoat

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felassan · 4 years

Text

Dragon Age development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

Some really tasty factoids here.

Cut for length.

Dragon Age: Origins

The continent of Thedas was at one point going to be named Pelledia, a name initially floated by James Ohlen

“Qunari” was a temporary name that ended up unintentionally sticking, much like “Thedas”

Mary Kirby wrote the Landsmeet. To this day, nobody understands how it works, except possibly her. If she’s “really really drunk” she can explain how it works. There’s as many words in it as Sten’s entire conversations put together

Concept art for Thedosian art - as in in-world art - draws heavily on Renaissance-era portraiture, the Art Nouveau movement, religious styles and media like stained glass, and favorite pieces from the golden age of illustrations in the early 20th century

Andrastianism in-world (art-wise) is depicted in wildly different methods depending on who in-world made the art in question. “One religion, 3 different lenses”. There’s the Chantry take, the Orlesian take and the Fereldan take; each with its own different interpretations, different mediums and different stories

The stained glass images were drawn by Nick Thornborrow for DAI, to decorate religious spaces in that game “and beyond”

irl Viking art influenced Ferelden

Greek and Italian art influenced Orlais

The book also had other insights into and anecdotes from the development of DAO, but I’ve transcribed them recently as they’re essentially the stories DG has recently been relating on the awesome Summerfall Studios DAO playthrough Twitch streams. (On those streams he provides dev commentary while Liam Esler plays through DA. The ones with DG are currently once every two weeks. Check them out! Here’s a calendar where you can check when the next one is) Instead of repeating myself I’ll just provide the link to the first transcript. From there you can navigate to the subsequent parts. Note these streams are ongoing. At this point I will also point you to a related post which is cliff notes of the Dragon Age chapter in Jason Schreier’s book Blood Sweat and Pixels.

Dragon Age II

DAO had the longest development period in BioWare history. In contrast DA2 had the shortest

Initially DA2 was going to be an expansion to DAO. A few months in EA said “Yeah, expansions like these don’t sell very well, so let’s make it a sequel.” So it suddenly became DA2 and they had to make it even bigger, although they still only had 1.5 years of time in which to do this

Production of DA2 officially lasted only 9 months, and at the time the team was still supporting live content for DAO! They finished development that January after the design team crunched all the way through the holiday period that year. Then it went to cert 9 times

The limited time they had is why the story takes place mostly in and around 1 city, and over 7 years (so it was temporal, rather than over physical distance, because a more expansive world would have taken more irl time to make)

They had no time to review even the main plot. Mike Laidlaw pitched the idea of 3 stories taking place at different points in the PC’s life, tied together by Varric’s recollections of events. DG rolled with this and made 1 presentation on the idea. This presentation was then approved and off they went

As they were writing DG realized that there was going to be no oversight and that everything was going to be a ‘first draft’. “Because nobody had time.” He sat down with the writers and said “Look, here’s the conditions we’re working under. A lot of what we’re putting out is gonna be raw. We’re not going to get the editing we need. We’re not going to get the kind of iteration we need. So I’m going to trust you all to do your best work.”

Looking back, DG has mixed feelings on DA2. “A lot of corners were cut. The public perception was that it was smaller than DAO. That’s a sin on its own.”

Despite this he thinks DA2 has some of the best writing in the series, especially character-wise. The DA2 chars are his favorite

The pace with which production progressed may in some ways have helped. “When we do a lot of revision, we often file away [as in buff off] some of the good writing as well. Somehow DA2′s whirlwind process resulted in some really good writing”

The pace meant chars landed on the writers in various stages of completion. For example Isabela was fairly defined due to appearing in DAO. In contrast Varric at the start was just that single piece of widely-shown concept art

Varric was conceived as a storyteller not a fighter. His skills are talking and bullshitting. Hence the question became, so what does this guy do in combat? The direction was to make him as different as possible to Oghren, so not a warrior. He couldn’t be a dual-wielding rogue in order to differentiate him from Bela. But you can’t really picture this guy with a bow. “For a dwarf, it would probably be a crossbow. We didn’t have crossbows, or we only had crossbows for the darkspawn. And they were part of the models. We didn’t have a separate crossbow that was equip-able by the chars. They had to like, crop one off a darkspawn and remodel it. And that became Bianca” (quote: Mary Kirby)

“Dwarven mages are exceedingly rare.” [???]

If DAO was a classic fantasy painting, DA2 was a screenshot from a Kurosawa film or a northern Renaissance painting. (Here Matt Rhodes was commenting on art style)

John Epler: “In any one of our games, there’s a 95% chance that if you turn the camera away from what it’s looking at, you’ll see all kinds of janky stuff. The moment we know the camera is no longer facing someone, we no longer care what happens to them. We will teleport people around. We will jump people around. We will literally have someone walk off screen and then we will shift them 1000 meters down, because we’re fixing some bug.” John also talked about this camera stuff in a recent charity Twitch stream for Gamers For Groceries. There’s a writeup of that stream here

Designing Kirkwall pushed concept artists to the limits of visual storytelling, because it has a long history that they wanted to be present. It was once the hub of Tevinter’s slave empire, so it needed to look brutal and harsh, but it also then needed to feel reclaimed, evolved, and with elements of contemporary Free Marches culture

The initial plan was for DA titles to be distinguished by subtitles not numbers, so that each experience could stand on its own rather than feel like a sequel or continuation. (My note: New PCs in each entry make sense then when you consider this and other factoids we know like how DA is the story of the world not of any one PC). Later, DA2′s name was made DA2 in a bid to more clearly connect the game to its predecessor. For DAI they returned to the original naming convention. (My note: so I’d reckon they’d be continuing the subtitle naming convention for DA4)

DA2 was initially code-named “Nug Storm”, strictly internally

The Cancelled DA2 Expansion - Exalted March

This was a precursor to DAI

It was meant to bridge the gap between DA2 and DAI

It focused on the fallout from Kirkwall’s explosion, with Cory serving as the villain

Meredith’s red lyrium statue was basically going to infest Kirkwall and it would end up [with what would end up] the red templars taking over Kirkwall and essentially being Cory’s army

To stop him Hawke would have recruited various factions, including Bela’s Felicisima Armada and the Qunari at Estwatch, forcing Hawke to split loyalties and risk relationships in the process

It was meant to bring DA2′s story to an end and end in Varric’s death. DG was very happy with this because all of DA2 is Varric’s tale. The expansion was supposed to start at the moment Cassandra’s interrogation of him ended in the present. “And we finished off the story with Varric having this heroic death.” It tied things up and would have broken many fan hearts, something BioWare writers notoriously enjoy. But between a transition to the new Frostbite engine and the scope of DAI, the decision was made to cancel EM, work any hard-to-lose concepts into DAI, and in the process save Varric’s life. DG has talked about the Varric dying thing before

Concept art for EM explored new areas previously not depicted in the DA universe, with costumes that reflected next steps for familiar chars. Varric was going to war, what would he have worn? With Anders, if he survived DA2, the plan was to present a redeemed Warden

A char that vaguely resembled Sera in DAI was first concepted for EM. This fact was mentioned near this concept art (see the female elf) and this concept art of Bethany with the blond bob

The writers sketched out plans to end it with Hawke having the option to marry their LI. This included alternate ceremonies for party members like Bethany and Sebastian if the player opted not to wed. There was even a wedding dress made for Hawke. This asset made it into DAI (Sera and Cullen’s weddings in Trespasser). The dress can also be seen in DAI during an ambient NPC wedding after completing a chain of war table missions

The destruction of a Chantry was explored in concept art as it might have happened in EM. This idea ended up carrying over to the beginning of DAI. (My note: Lol, the idea that DA2 could have had 2 Chantries being destroyed in it 😆)

World of Thedas

Sheryl Chee and Mary Kirby started with “a disgusting little dish called fluffy mackerel pudding”. In the middle of DAO’s busy dev period one of them (they can’t remember who) found a recipe online for this, scanned in from a 70s cookbook. “I don’t understand why it was fluffy. Why would you want fluffy mackerel pudding?” MK says. “We loved it so much we included it in a DAO codex.”

This led them to create more food for Thedas, full recipes included, like a Fereldan turnip and barley stew from MK and SC’s Starkhaven fish and egg pie. The fish pie became Sebastian’s favorite. “To me it made sense for it to be fish pie because a lot of the Free Marches are on the coast”, SC says, “It was something that was popular in medieval times, so I thought, let’s make a fish pie! I looked at medieval recipes and I concocted a fish pie which I fed to my partner, and he was like ‘This is not terrible’”

For WoT the whole studio was asked to contribute family recipes which might have a place in Thedas. SC adapted these to fit in one Thedosian culture or another, including a beloved banana bread that localization producer Melanie Fleming would regularly bake to keep the DA team motivated. “Melanie’s banana bread got us through Inquisition”

DAI

It says part of DAI takes place in or near the border with Nevarra [???]

This game was aimed to be bigger than DA2 and even DAO in every conceivable way

The first hour had to do a lot of heavy lifting, tying together the events of DAO and DA2 while introducing a new PC, new followers etc in the aftermath of the big attack. DG rewrote it 7 times then Lukas Kristjanson did 2 more passes

DG: “Our problem is always that our endings are so important, but we leave them to last, when we have no time. I kept pushing on DAI: ‘Can we work on the ending now? Can we work on the ending now? Can we do it early on?’ Because I knew exactly what it was going to be. But despite the fact that it kept getting scheduled, whenever the schedule started falling behind, it kept getting pushed back... so, of course, it got left til last again.”

“The reveal of the story’s real antagonist, Solas, a follower until the end, when he betrayed the player”. “Solas’ story remains a main thread in Inquisition’s long-awaited follow-up” [these aren’t DG quotes, just bits of general text]

Over the course of development they had 8 full-time writers and 4 editors working on it. Other writers joined later to help wrangle what ended up being close to 1 million words of dialogue and unspoken text. While many teams moved to a more open concept style of work for DAI, the writers remained tucked away in their own room, a choice DG says was necessary, given how much they talked. All the talking had a purpose ofc as if someone hit a bump or wall in their writing they would open the problem up to the room

As writing on a project like DAI progresses, the writers grow punchier and weirder things make it into the game. This is especially the case towards the end of a project (they get tired, burned out)

Banter and codexes require less ‘buy-in’ (DG has talked about this concept a few times on the Twitch streams) from other designers. DG liked to leave banter for last as a reward because it was fun. Banter begins as lists of topics for 2 followers to discuss. These may progress over time or be one off exchanges. One banter script can balloon to well over 10k words. “The banter was always huge because we were always like, laughing, and really at that point, our fields of fucks were rather barren, so we would just do whatever”

The bog unicorn happened pretty much by accident. It was designed by Matt Rhodes and was one of his fav things to design. They needed horse variations and he had already designed an undead variant which was a bog mummy [bog body]. irl these are preserved in a much different way to traditional mummies. When someone dies in a bog their skin turns black and raisin-like. The examples we know of tend to have bright red hair for whatever reason. It’s a very striking look and MR wanted to do a horse version of this as he thought it’d be neat. 5 mins before the review meeting for it he had a big ‘Aha!’ moment, quickly looked up a rusty old Viking sword, and photoshopped it through its skull like that was how it died. “And I was like, ‘I just made a unicorn. Alright, in it goes!’” It got approved. “So we built the thing. It fit. It told a little story”

With the irl Inquisition longsword, one of the objects they tested its cleaving ability on was a plush version of Leliana’s nug Schmooples

The concept art team explored a wide variety of visuals for the Inquisitor’s signature mark. It needed to look powerful and raw but couldn’t look like a horrific wound. In some cases, as cool as the idea looked on paper, they just weren’t technically feasible, especially as they had to be able to fit on any number of different bodies

Bug report: “Endlessly spawning mounts! At one point during development, Inquisitors could summon a new horse every time they whistled, allowing them to amass a near infinite number of eager steeds that faithfully followed them across Thedas. “You could go charging across levels and they’d all gallop behind you,” Jen Cheverie says, “It was beautiful.” Trotting into town became an epic horse siege as a tidal wave of mounts enveloped the streets. Jen called it her Army of Ponies”

The giants came from DA Week, an internal period when devs can pursue different individual creative projects that in some way benefit DA. They also had a board game from one of these that they were going to put in but they didn’t have time. It’s referenced though. It was dwarven chess

Josie’s outfit is made of gold silk and patterned velvet, with leather at her waist. She carries “an ornate ledger” and she has “an ornamented collar sitting around her neck, finished by a brilliant red ruby, like a drop of Antivan wine in a sunbeam”

Iron Bull’s armor is leather. His loose pantaloons and leather boots give him agility to charge

On DAI in particular, concept artists took special care to make sure costumes would be realistic, at least in a practical ‘this obeys the laws of physics and textiles’ sense. “While on Inquisition, we thought about cosplay from a concept art perspective. Given how incredible a lot of [cosplays] are, I now am not worried about them. In fact in some cases in the future I want to throw them curveballs like, ‘All right, you clever bastards. Let’s see if you can do this!’”

2 geese that nested on the office building and had chicks were named Ganders and Arishonk (it wasn’t known who was the mom or the dad). Other possible names were Carver Honke, Bethany Honke, Urdnot Pecks, Quackwall, Cassandra Pentagoose, the Iron Bill, Shepbird, Garroose, Admiral Quackett, Scout Honking, HChick-47 and Darth Malgoose

Bug report: “The surprising adventures of Ser Noodles!” DAI was the first time the series had a mount feature, meaning this had a lot of bugs. A lot of the teams’ favorite bugs were to do with the mounts. There was a period of time where the Inquisitor’s horse seemed to lose all bone and muscle in its legs. They had a week or so where all quadruped legs were broken. It was a bit noticeable in things like nugs and other small beasties but the horse was insanely obvious. “The first time we summoned the horse [for this] and started running around, the entire QA exploration room just exploded with laughter.” Its legs flapped around like cooked fettucine, leading testers to lovingly nickname it Ser Noodles. At galloping speeds the legs almost looked like helicopter blades, especially when footage was set to classic pieces such as Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries

For DAI the artists were asked questions like “What would Morrigan wear to a formal ball? Can Cassandra pull off a jaunty hat?”

On DAI storyboarding became the norm. John Epler: “Cinematic design for the longest time was the Wild West. It was ‘here’s a bunch of content, now do it however you want’, which resulted in some successes and some failures.” Storyboarding gave designers a consistent visual blueprint based on ideas from designers, writers and concept artists

Quote from a storyboard by Nick Thornborrow (the Inquisitor going into the party at the end of basegame sequence): “Until Corypheus revealed himself they could not see the single hand behind the chaos. A magister and a darkspawn combined. The ultimate evil. So evil. Eviler than puppy-killers and egg farts combined.”

A general note on concept art:

In the early stages of any project, before the concept artists are aware of any writing, they like to just draw what they think cool story moments could be. It’s not unusual for the team to then be inspired by these and fold them into the game as the project progresses

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

3K notes · View notes

lacheri · 3 years

Text

when you can’t sleep at night // wake me (sequel)

pairing: captain!Levi x cadet!fem bodied reader

content: angst, canonverse, mentions and talks of death/portrayals of death, depictions of violence, blood, overall dark themes, unestablished relationship, fingering, mutual loss of virginities, overstimulation, takes place sometime before the 57th expedition (didn't follow an exact timeline), there is a lot of talks about dying in this, levi asks a lot of intrusive questions, minors DNI.

summary: levi finds he holds an affection to a certain cadet of his. you find that maybe the comfort of your captain can quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind, even if just for one night.

wc: 10.7k

The clouds were so fluffy, so white and pure as you longingly watched them swirl above you. Your entire body was numb, back flat against the dirt with all your limbs stretched out. Your brain felt fuzzy, and for a fleeting moment you were flying in the clouds. You could feel the water vapor skim past your fingertips, the air whooshing against you as you soared. You looked down at the earth beneath your form, all the trees and even the walls looked so tiny from this height. This peaceful daydream was pulled from you with a start, your chest heaving with coughs.

“I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice call out, your line of vision intruded by the hazy form of a person leering over you. “I didn’t mean to hit you like that!”

“‘S okay,” you choked out, the numbness fading into aches all over your body. “I’ve gotten you good a couple of times too, Eren.”

“You know what, on second thought,” Eren’s lips spread into a smirk as he extended a hand down. “Consider this payback for beating my ass all those times in the Training Corps.”

“Good on you for finally landing a hit,” you chuckled, wincing as he hauled you to your feet. “Only took you three years.”

You rocked on your ankles, steadying yourself quickly before your legs gave out on you. Eren had gotten you good, roundhouse kicking you in your chest to lay you out on your ass. His training sessions had begun to pay off, used to the reverse happening when the two of you sparred. Mikasa would look on intently, a small smile on her lips when you’d punch Eren’s smug face with a sharp hook. You and 104th cadets were a friendly, strong group, bonded over the horrors of the titans, especially after what happened in Trost.

“What are you brats doing out here?”

Your heads whipped in the direction of the strong voice, meeting the steely hard set eyes of Levi, your captain and soon to be squad leader. His arms were crossed, and you gulped upon taking notice of how his biceps strained under the grey linen of his button up. You quickly flickered your focus back to his eyes before he caught you eyeing him up.

“Just sparring,” Eren hadn’t released the grip on your hand, nor had he noticed he was still holding onto your palm as he addressed the superior. “Prepping for the mission tomorrow.”

Levi frowned, “And who told you it was okay to do so when I gave you cadets instruction to clean the headquarters from top to bottom?”

You pulled your hand from Eren’s as you responded, “Sorry, Captain Levi. We’ll get on it right away.”

Levi only let out a displeased ‘tch’ as he turned on his heels, walking away without further commentary. Eren shot you an eye roll, and you held back a snicker as the pair of you followed shortly after the ravenette. Maybe the two of you had snuck away to leave the rest of your comrades to attack the former Survey Corps headquarters with dusters and cleaning rags, not wanting to participate in your weekly assigned duties. Eren had been adamant in the cobwebbed hallway on the second floor that he had to practice his hand to hand combat, just in case your squads ran into some problems on tomorrow’s mission. You had eagerly agreed, wanting to be as far away from the unsettled dust that assaulted your nostrils, itching at your allergies.

As the three of you entered the building, Levi abruptly turned to the two of you trailing behind him, you and Eren jumping in fright, “Eren, go to the dining hall, you’re going to wipe down underneath all the tables. As for you, brat, you get the honor of cleaning my room.”

Eren shot you a sympathetic look discreetly, nodding to your captain as he hightailed it to the hall.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, alone now with the captain. He studied you for a brief moment, gesturing with his head for you to follow him. Your feet moved before your mind could will you, and the soft thuds of your footsteps across the wooden planks of the floor was all that was heard. You snuck glances at the man before you, taking notice that his undercut was slightly grown in, his longer hair uncharacteristically out of place. Levi looked disheveled in a way, his tan leather jacket creased.

You opened your mouth to make a comment, but decided against it in the end. You were going to offer your assistance, to help freshen up his fade and to do his laundry, but figured Levi was a grown man who could take care of himself. You had a soft spot for the man, humanity’s strongest soldier. You knew a title like that came with a weight you could not fathom, especially after the horrors you had seen at Trost when the titans broke through the walls. You could remember everything so clearly, almost as if it was happening right now. You had nearly died that day.

Your older age amongst your fellow cadets was not one of gain you found out. After learning about the tragedy of Wall Maria, the wall closest to your village, it inspired you to join the Survey Corps in order to help the world. Humanity was dying, almost completely obliterated. Distant family members had died in Shiganshina that day, and the reality of the titans weighed heavily on you. How could you sit idly by as the world you knew was being destroyed before your very eyes? What would’ve happened had that attack been on your small village instead of the Shiganshina district? How would you have protected your own?

So with those thoughts in mind, you joined the training corps. Your parents had disagreed with broken hearts, knowing the likely fate of your choices. Your mother had insisted that you were of ripe marrying age, and that they had no other children to carry your family name. They begged and pleaded for you to settle down and find a husband, to help humanity in a different way by bearing children. You knew this was just a fantasy, and you knew it would be entirely possible that if you were to follow their wishes, the family you would create would be devoured and destroyed. This was the only way you could help, no matter your age or being in your reproductive prime. You needed to slaughter the titans, one by one until none remained. You kissed your beloved family goodbye the day you left for training, and you frequently sent them letters to let them know you were well and alive. One day, they all were returned back to you as you sat in the barracks, and one of the captains informed you that your village was destroyed, your parents and friends from home all dead.

You thought of them as you sliced through a five meter titan’s nape in Trost, your first kill. The citizens of the district ran stampeding in retreat, and caught up in the heat of it all, you had failed to account for the seven meter barreling behind you. When it’s burning fingers wrapped around your body, you sobbed, preparing to meet your family in the afterlife, whatever that would look like. You could feel the hot spats of drool hit your cheeks as the titan opened its mouth, bearing teeth and a cruel grin, and then suddenly, you were flying, caught in the arms of a savior. You stared in disbelief at the cut off fingers on the graveled stone of the street, to only be brought out of this state as Mikasa held you close and questioned if you were alright.

After the dust settled and the casualties were counted, you could feel a fire blazing deep within you. You never wanted to be vulnerable like that ever again, you wanted to be strong like Mikasa. Then, you met Captain Levi. You didn’t know much about him, but his reputation spoke volumes. You wanted the strength of the Ackermans whom you so deeply admired. You begged Commander Erwin to be assigned to Levi’s squad, and your wish was granted. You had been in the top rankings of your class, and you had a solo kill under your belt, aside from the near fatal clutch of another titan. Most of all, you had survived, a bigger feat than most of your comrades.

“Oi, you done daydreaming?” Levi’s cool voice brought you out of your train of thoughts as you arrived outside a wooden door, presumably his temporary living space.

“Sorry, just thinking,” you mumbled as he opened the door.

“Didn’t think you were capable of that. All the supplies are in the box on my desk, I want this room spotless, I don’t care how long it takes,” your captain grumbled as he made strides to his desk in the center of the room.

The room was fairly large, a double bed pressed against the left wall and the dark wooden desk was littered in paperwork. Half filled bookshelves lined the right wall, some mismatched couches and chairs filled the empty space. Honestly, the space was nearly perfect, even the bed was made. You knew better than to point this out to your superior though, so you had simply nodded and began to sort through the various cleaning supplies.

The scratch of Levi’s pen filled the hour long silence as you worked, dusting every surface and wiping it down with disinfectant spray and an old rag. After sweeping thoroughly, you flickered your eyes to the single window in the entire room, surprised completely as the sun had nearly set. The two of you were probably going to miss dinner, you realized as Levi poked his head up from the pile of papers he was concentrated on, a clear look of distaste on his features.

“This is what you call clean?” he spat, running a hand through his bangs. “Mop the floors, cadet.”

You sighed, feeling the subtle growl of hunger in the pit of your stomach. The mop laid in the left corner by the bedroom door, where you had found the broom. You swapped the two, picking up a bucket on the floor. You filled the wooden container with disinfectant, not seeing any polish in the box Levi had provided. He only rolled his eyes at seeing this, but said nothing. At least the floor would be clean.

Levi had lit a few lamps around the room to provide lighting as the sun dipped lower in the sky, swallowing the room in darkness. The floor was sparkling as you finished the last spot, a feeling of satisfaction filling your chest.

“Better?” you interrupted his concentration. He gazed around the room silently, face blank.

“Much,” Levi finally spoke. “That’ll be all, cadet.”

You smiled, setting the cleaning supplies back to their original locations, “Do you want me to bring you anything? I’m going down to grab dinner.”

Levi’s eyes widened at the question, not expecting your offer, “Some tea would be fine. Don’t fuck it up either, brat.”

You nodded as he dismissed you, and you treaded down the stairwell from the second floor to the kitchens. Some of the other cadets littered the dining hall as you passed, seeing some of your comrades laughing at a table, but you paid them no mind. In the kitchen there was hardly any leftover food from the dinner, scraps of potatoes sat in a large bowl on one of the counterspaces. You sighed, scarfing down whatever was available while you set a rusted kettle to a flame. The water was boiled within minutes, and you poured it over tea leaves in two teacups. You cleaned up your mess, and made your way back to Levi’s room.

You knocked twice on the door, hearing his grunt to signal you to enter. Levi was still positioned in his chair at his desk, head in his hands as he scanned over his documents. You placed his cup down silently, ready to leave the man to his work.

“Why are you here, cadet?” your captain called out as you went to open the door.

You turned your head to look at him, his eyes never leaving the words of his papers, “What do you mean, captain?”

“The Survey Corps,” he clarified, finally making eye contact. “Why?”

“To save humanity, sir?” you didn’t mean to speak as if you were questioning him, but your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He scoffed, setting his paperwork aside, “Humanity, huh? You’re a bit too old to be in the graduating class you’re currently in. Why join now?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m confused,” your body was facing his entirely now. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” he more so mumbled to himself. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be pregnant with your first born, with a husband. Instead, you’re here, trying to fight titans.”

“With all due respect, Captain,” your voice was laced with controlled anger. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Aren’t you scared?” Levi continued, ignoring your question. “You could’ve picked the easy way.”

“It would’ve been in vain. My village was wiped out shortly after Wall Maria fell.”

He hummed, his hands coming down to rest on the wooden notches of his desk, papers forgotten, “You were in the top ranks. You could’ve joined the military police.”

“And hear how my comrades died instead of helping them?” you gawked.

“It’s a lot better than watching.”

You shut your mouth then, lips pressing tightly together. You didn’t understand why your captain was questioning you like this.

“I see the way you are with them,” his tone softened, not looking you in the eyes as he spoke. “How you all are.”

“Just because I’m friendly doesn’t mean I’ll forget the purpose of the scouts,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. “I have my own ass to account for.”

Levi pushed off his chair suddenly, scraping the just mopped floor and jolting up to his legs, “You have no idea what it’s like out there. Your friends are going to die, cadet. There’ll be nothing you can do to save them. Are you prepared for that? Collecting their bodies, or whatever’s left of them to take home to their families?”

Your mouth went dry, jaw slacking, “Captain, I know what loss feels like. My family is dead, some of my so called ‘friends’ died in Trost. I know what I signed up for.”

He scoffed, circling around his desk to stand a few feet away from you, “Haven’t you seen enough?”

“Are you trying to get me to quit the Survey Corps?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes. You don’t belong here,” his tone was rough as he spat at you. “Go find a husband. Get the fuck out of the military.”

“I don’t want to,” your anger simmered as you stared down at your boots. “I don’t have a home to go back to. I can’t leave. I know the other cadets aren’t my friends. I’m just trying to make the best out of my life before I die. I know I’m going to die. What’s so wrong about trying to find comfort in others?”

“You are a fool,” he seethed, teeth clenched. “You want to die?”

You shook your head, not bothering to keep the conversation going, “I’m going to bed, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow for the mission.”

“I didn’t dismiss you, cadet,” Levi towered over you now as your hand wrapped around the doorknob.

You brought your fist up to your chest in a salute as you began to exit, “With absolutely no disrespect, I’m exhausted. Have a good night, Captain.”

You pushed the door shut in front of you as you stood in the hallway. You knew you would be getting an ear full from Levi in the morning, but honestly, the conversation was beginning to stir up feelings you’d rather not address. Intrusive thoughts filled your mind as you made your way to the first floor where your temporary bedroom resided.

You couldn’t answer Levi’s question because in a way, in a very selfish train of thought, you didn’t want to be a part of the titan’s world anymore, whether that meant death or something else. How easy it would be for you to greedily pack your things and leave the military and take refuge in some random village to live out the rest of your days, however long they would be. Or to just simply become fodder for the titans in your quest to rid the world of their reign.

Your uniform was folded on your bedside table, a cotton shirt and shorts on your body as you sat on your bed over the covers. You could hear the soft snores of Christa as she slumbered peacefully in the bed across the room, and you gazed over her body under her covers. You knew the people you trained with, fought with, grew fond of, were not your friends. How could they be? It’d only make things harder in the end. Like Levi had said, you might be the one collecting their deceased bodies after a battle. How could you ever grow close to someone that you knew their days were numbered?

The 104th cadets were your comrades, not your makeshift family. You had to remind yourself of that every time Sasha would ask for your leftovers, batting her big eyes at you. When Eren would spar with you, telling you how strong you were and commending you on how far you had come since the first day of the Training Corps. How Mikasa literally saved your life, and how you had admired her ever since. Armin’s unmatched potential and growth. Jean’s relentless taunting, giving you the nickname of gram because of your age. Connie, well frankly, just being Connie. Reiner and Bertholdt’s strong will and passion. Annie’s unwavering willpower and prowess. All the other cadets who you’d gotten to know so well, you had to constantly imagine their corpses as they smiled at you and tried to get to know you. So, you stayed back, opting to be alone at any opportunity, so their deaths would be easier to swallow when the time came.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to try and rid yourself of your thoughts. It was of no use, and with a sigh you pushed yourself out of your bed. You deemed it would be yet again another sleepless night, and you realized sadly you had left your tea cup in Levi’s office completely untouched. You didn’t bother to entertain the thought of going back to retrieve it, instead you slinked through your bedroom door and out of the headquarters.

The night air was chilly, and you felt regret for not grabbing your jacket on your way out. The moon was gone, a completely black night, and you could see the stars crystal clear. The sky was your favorite sight, especially on nights like this.

You found a nice patch of soft grass, and laid on your back to gaze up at the sky. This was always your comfort, even as a child, to go outside and watch the sky, day or night. Your mother would warn you that your eyes would fall out of your head if you stared too long at the sun, at the moon. You didn’t care, because in those moments you felt so free. Free of the walls that caged you inside, of the world around you. You were the clouds, the stars, the wind as it rolled past. Maybe you were never meant to be human, you mused. You were meant to be nature, never to experience the trials and tribulations of sentinel living. You were supposed to be free, all knowing and ignorant at the same time, existing without the weight of consciousness.

“Thought you were going to bed, cadet?”

You were startled by the boom of a familiar voice behind you, collecting yourself and clearing your throat, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Levi’s head bobbed into your field of vision, “Thought too hard today?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling guilty as you caught the action afterwards and hoped your captain wouldn’t find it as a disrespect, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Why are you out here of all places, without a jacket?” out of the corner of your eye you watched as Levi brought himself down to sit next to you.

“I like watching the sky,” you put simply, trying not to make eye contact. “Makes me feel better.”

“About dying?” he said, and you knew that he wouldn’t let your previous conversation go. You decided to humor him, if only to get these thoughts out of your mind.

“Yes.”

“Like what?” he almost sounded uninterested, but from his line of questioning you knew he was anything but.

“I don’t want to die,” you admitted, digging your fingernails into the grass by your waist. “I don’t want to watch anyone die. I never wanted to join the military. I felt like I had no choice.”

“We always have a choice,” he leaned his back to see whatever had your attention draw above you.

“Either fight the titans or get eaten alive when they attack the walls?” you snorted. “What a hard decision to make.”

“Why’d you join the Survey Corps?” he asked once again.

“I didn’t want my family’s death to be in vain. I had cousins, aunts and uncles in Shiganshina.”

“What about your death?”

“I hope it’ll mean something,” you breathed, feeling your chest get tight. “I hope this all will mean something.”

Levi looked at you then, a glimmer of something you couldn’t identify in his eyes, “You sound like Erwin when you talk like that.”

You made eye contact, a small smile on your lips, “The Commander’s an amazing man. I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Levi scoffed, “Take it as you will.”

“What else could I do? I’m trying so hard to make a difference, to make life easier for others so they don’t have to suffer this fate. Isn’t that why we all joined the Survey Corps?” you continued your train of thought. “Maybe we all have a death wish. Fuck, I know I have one. It all just fucking hurts, Captain. I can’t help but think of others all the time, of all the loss and the grief they've gone through, what I’ve been through. At what will keep happening until all the titans are gone for good.”

“Why the sky?” he changed the subject, seemingly bored of your repetitive narrative.

“Because there’s no titans up there,” you joked without humor. “There’s no walls, no boundaries, no rules. It’s never ending. Where are the stars? How does day and night occur? Where does the moon go when the sun’s out? It amazes me, that’s all. Makes me think of how big the world is, of what’s out there besides this.”

“You think too much for a brainless brat,” Levi grumbled, laying on his back and joining you.

“I know,” you chuckled, turning your body to face him. “Wish I could turn off all my thoughts, it would probably make life a whole lot more livable.”

He hummed, eyes drawn in to your face, “I understand. What you said earlier, too, about finding comfort in others.”

“What do you mean?” you propped your head on your hand and you positioned your elbow to support you.

“I guess I never thought about it before tonight,” he blinked, expression unreadable. “Life as a soldier isn’t a comforting one. I guess that’s what I was trying to tell you about.”

You read between the lines of his words, recognizing it as his form of an apology, “I know. But it’s still the life I chose. At least I’m trying to make a difference, we all are.”

“Y’know, I’ve been paying attention to you for some time now. I didn’t understand when Erwin came to me and told me you had asked to be put on my squad. I took a look in your file, and I saw you after the attack on Trost, and I still didn’t understand,” Levi spoke slowly. “I don’t think I get you at all, even now.”

“I don’t think I understand myself,” you laughed dryly, returning your attention to the sky.

“You should get some sleep, cadet,” he advised softly, pushing himself off the ground. “And for fuck’s sake do it soon, I won’t be taking care of your ass if you get a cold.”

Levi stalked off before you could utter a response. You sighed, and decided his words were wise enough to follow. A few moments after your captain had left you, you followed his pathway back to the entrance of the former headquarters. You entered, making a hasty retreat back to your room where Christa was still knocked out cold.

Under your covers, you replayed your conversations with Levi. You still couldn’t figure out why he had questioned you like he had, why he even cared in the first place. Maybe it was his own gnawing curiosity, trying to understand why some random twenty-something year old girl insisted on being in his squad like you had. Maybe, you thought egotistically, you had your own reputation. You inwardly snorted, probably not.

Images of your captain under the moonlight played beneath your eyelids as you finally managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

The mission had gone horribly wrong. At least for you, to be honest you had no idea where the rest of your comrades were as you raced on your horse, desperately searching the sky for flares. You hadn’t seen a single one in a while now, at least ten minutes, and your heart was thudding hard as thoughts that the entire fleet of soldiers you had joined had been decimated. You were completely alone, the walls distant behind you. All you knew is that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t turn around or else you’d really be lost.

The 104th had stayed behind at the former headquarters, this having been a smaller expedition to clear out some titans before the planned 57th expedition in a few weeks. Levi, Oluo, Petra, and Gunther, as well as a few other squads accompanying you, were in a near perfect formation when an abnormal titan had broken through, killing a few unnamed soldiers at your side that you had never met before today.

In the far left distance, you could see a large forest full of trees. Your jaw slacked open, relief running through your veins when you caught sight of some men on horses heading that direction. Green flares shot up high in the sky, and you pulled the reins of your mare to follow. Your plan was brought to a screeching halt though, as you heard the thunderous footsteps shake your horse, and your body. You threw a glance behind your shoulder, a ten meter titan running straight towards you. You reached to your side quickly, shooting a red flare above you to warn any close by comrades.

The titan was gaining speed, about a dozen yards now behind you. You really wanted to avoid confrontation was much as possible, but as those yards closed between you and the titan, you growled and prepared yourself. You gave your horse a soft pat on her neck, and heaved yourself to stand on the saddle. You gaged your surroundings, seeing complete flat plains all around you, not an ideal situation for fighting at all.

Your odm gear shot you straight to the titan’s legs, a plan instilled in your head on the best way to take it down. It was fairly thin and muscular, but you decided it was just a plain titan as it dumbly stared at you with its wicked grin. Your dual blades locked in your hands now, you swung behind the titan and sliced through its ankles. The ten meter fell swiftly, giving you the perfect opportunity to land on its nape and kill it. It stilled completely beneath you after your swift cuts, and you ran as fast as your body willed you to rejoin your mare.

You placed your fingers to your lips, whistling as loud as you could. Your horse, at least 100 feet away, perked its ears and turned at a rapid speed straight back to you. She neighed as she reached your form, and you hauled yourself back on her saddle, kicking your legs for her to break into a full gallop to where the green flares still lingered in the air.

You didn’t bother to signal another flare in the air, seeing no other flares around you. As you neared closer to the forest, you felt incredibly relieved at the sight of your squad, now able to make out their faces. Petra waved her hands high in the air, about 20 feet away now. You saw Oluo, Gunther, and Levi, unharmed, as you got closer, bringing your horse down to a slightly slower gait, seeing no titans around.

“Are you okay?” Petra shouted at you once you reached the group. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay!” you spoke as fast as you could. “The other cadets I was with were killed by an abnormal, I got split up from them.”

“What was that red flare?” Oluo questioned, worry riddled in his eyes.

“It’s fine, I killed it,” you breathed shakily. “Where are the others?”

“Retreating back to the walls,” Levi answered, voice hard and commanding. “We’re out of blades, and there've been too many casualties. The others have the deceased’s bodies.”

You and your squad nodded, and with no further delay, you broke your horses into a full sprint back to the walls. The sun hung low in the sky, sunset merely a few hours away. Now in a formation in the clear open plains, you noticed out of the corner of your eye some movement.

“Abnormal titan to the right!” you screamed, turning your head to watch the titan’s arms flail, running in an irregular pattern.

“Holy fuck,” Gunther’s eyes widened in horror, shooting a black flare into the sky. “That’s got to be a 15 meter!”

“Don’t engage!” Levi barked, eyes trained straight ahead at the walls. “Keep an eye on it!”

“Sir!” the four of you quipped.

It seemed the abnormal titan had other plans as it caught sight of the five of you, its pace changing with intentions.

“It’s heading straight towards us!” Petra called out, flickering her eyes between the running titan and your captain. “Orders, Captain?”

Levi kept silent, much to your horrors. It was only a few yards away now, speed not slowing. Levi’s attention was completely ahead, the walls almost in full view. You were so close, not close enough though and the abnormal titan’s legs moved faster.

“Captain Levi!” Oluo shouted, eyebrows shot into his hairline.

The titan was less than three yards away when Levi finally spoke, “Petra, Oluo, make it fast!”

You shot off your horse before Levi’s lips opened, his commands unheard by you. Your odm ropes attached right into the titan’s ankles, just like how you had done before. There’s a reason they called it an abnormal titan though you discovered as its fingers closed around the wiring of your gear, yanking the ropes out of its skin and hauling your body up.

You squirmed, mashing your buttons desperately to get your hooks out of its fist as you were brought to the titan’s mouth. It was an ugly son of a bitch, teeth on full display in its evil smile. You couldn’t believe how badly you had fucked up again, the titan’s other hand gaining momentum as it lifted to wrap its disgusting meaty fingers around you. You watched as the fingers were sliced off before they could reach you, and suddenly you were free falling as the hand holding your odm ropes fell from its arm. You redirected yourself back to its ankles, back to your original plan of taking out the nerves to allow the titan to fall, your nerves entirely shot, your adrenaline in full control.

Levi had both his swords drawn as he met you at the back of the 15 meter’s legs, “Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed? You should’ve let the others handle it!”

“I thought I had it, Captain!” you curtly shouted, cutting through the tendons and getting sprayed with steaming blood. The titan did not falter though, but thankfully you and Levi had created a useful diversion as Petra, and Oluo took out the titan’s nape. You and your group shot back to your horses as the titan fell from its height, dead on impact.

The opening of the gate of Wall Rose was a fucking blessing, and your squad couldn’t have ran through it any faster. You heard the roaring of the gate as it closed behind you, and you were choking on shallow breaths as you slowed your mare’s gait.

None of you spoke a single word as you returned to the former headquarters, exhausted after the adrenaline of your mission wore off. You returned your horses to the stables, where feed and water awaited them. Your squad practically ran off, and you were confused until you saw the pissed off look of your superior aimed directly at you. Gulping down spit, you turned on your heel, ready to take off.

Levi’s arm shot out around your bicep, harshly tugging you to stop your escape, “Are you a fucking idiot, cadet? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I thought I could take out the titan by its ankles!” you defended quickly, gritting your teeth as his fingers dug into your clothed arm. “It’s how I took out the other titan I killed, Captain!”

“You better learn quickly that all titans are not the same! Or did you not learn that in training?” Levi growled out between clenched teeth.

“I thought I could take it out,” you grumbled, ripping your arm out of his grip.

“You betrayed my orders. You listen to me and my commands, cadet,” he spat out, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes burning holes into yours. “Remember your place.”

You pivoted yourself away from your captain, trotting ahead to head inside the headquarters, voice laced with malice as you grumbled, “I’ll do as I see fit.”

This would be the second time Levi hadn’t dismissed you before leaving him behind, you realized as you arrived at the communal bathroom. You sighed heavily, leaning back against the closed door, completely alone. Thankfully, it was very late in the evening, and if your comrades weren’t in bed already, they would be heading to sleep soon. You were so relieved to get some much needed alone time, especially now that you had such a terrible day.

You changed out of your blood soaked uniform, not bothering to fold it as you laid the clothes on the floor. Stark naked, you began to fill the bathtub basin with running water, a very rare luxury due to the previous care when the headquarters was up and running. With the porcelain half filled, the water steaming, you sunk your aching body into the scalding bath. The water turned a deep pink as you scrubbed your skin with a rag that had been resting over the rim. You untied your hair and dipped your head back, threading your fingers through your knots after generously coating the strands with soap. You drained the dirty water, refilling it back up now that most of the dirt and blood had been washed away. The tub held a pastel pink hue now, but you felt much cleaner and you sunk back in the tub, stretching out as much as you could.

You didn’t dare close your eyes for too long, picturing the events of today. You didn’t try to reflect on the lives that had been lost on today’s mission, the strangers you never had the pleasure, or perhaps displeasure, of getting to know. It made it easier in a sense to forget, to keep pushing forward. Still, the gore and the cruelty of what being a part of the scouts was truly about haunted the corners of your mind as you absentmindedly rubbed soap along your limbs. Maybe you were trying to wash away these memories, too.

Half an hour later, you decided it was time to dry off and get into comfortable clothing as the water cooled and your skin had pruned. You unplugged the drain, standing and reaching for a towel. Wrapping the fabric around your chest, you stepped out of the tub, feet leaving wet prints on the floor as you treaded to your bedroom, soiled clothes in hand.

An oversized white long sleeve hung off your frame, accompanied by your favorite cotton shorts as you sat on your bed, completely alone. Christa had briefly mentioned before your mission this morning that she’d be spending the night with Ymir, to which you were inwardly grateful for the promise of solidarity. As you sat hunched over, you found yourself longing for the comforting presence of someone, anyone, to distract you from the images that plagued your mind, no matter how hard you tried to push them away.

You jerked with a start as you pictured the angry face of your captain, feeling immense guilt pool in your gut. You had never spoken so much with Levi before yesterday, realizing the weight of your words and actions, reckless and undermining his authority. Maybe you owed him an apology, for if nothing else to at least calm your mind enough for sleep.

You didn’t remember the walk when you had arrived outside the captain’s door, or could recall if you had knocked before it swung open, revealing Levi’s surprised expression.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, nervously tugging at your sleeves as you avoided eye contact. “I’ve been disrespectful, Captain, and I’m sorry.”

“Cadet,” his teeth clenched tightly. “Do you understand what time it is?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whimpered, legs ready for a moment's notice of a retreat. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave—“

Levi’s hand shot out to circle your wrist, and you finally looked up into his charcoal eyes, “Don’t, come in.”

You couldn’t protest as you guided you into his room, shutting the door behind you after you passed the entry. Levi was dressed casually, beige cotton shirt hanging off his torso, plain grey pants on his lower half. The bags under his eyes told you he had also not been able to fall asleep. He led you to sit on his neatly made bed, towering over you with his arms tightly crossed.

“I was on my way to check on you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”

“You didn’t knock,” Levi clarified, looking anywhere but at you. “I was already at the door. You’d seen a lot today. I don’t need my soldiers having breakdowns after every mission.”

He was worried about you, your breath halted in your throat.

“Oh,” you dumbly said.

“Seems like you did me a favor by coming here,” he mused, sighing as he ran a hand through his bangs. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“Thinking, again, about everything,” you crossed your thighs, body language signally how uncomfortable you were upon talking about these feelings.

“Your brain is going to cause you more grief if you don’t stop,” Levi’s spare hand grasped your chin gently, bringing your head up so you could look him in the eyes. “Why do you insist on being alone with these thoughts?”

“Captain, weren’t you just saying it’s a bad idea to have friends?” you could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest at his gesture, unsure of his intentions.

“Weren't you just talking about finding comfort in others?” Levi leaned down, you felt his breath against your lips as he spoke. “I’ve been paying attention to you for awhile, cadet.”

“You looked in my file, you told me already,” you whispered, unsure that if you spoke at full volume your voice wouldn’t quiver.

“No, I’ve been watching you. You’re not exactly quiet when you sneak out at night, y’know. I’ve seen you,” he hesitated briefly before continuing. “I’ve watched you cry all alone, how you try to distance yourself from the others. I was testing you yesterday, brat. I think I understand now, though.”

Your captain crouched down to meet you at eye level, fingertips never straying from your chin, and you felt your lip quiver as he rasped, “I understand, because I get it. You’ve always felt alone, haven't you?”

You nodded, scared to voice the truth, he continued, “I’m not going to explain myself to you, and if I hear a single word spoken about any of our conversations, I will personally sign your extermination paperwork. You’re different, you’re not like the others. You know what grief is, what pain and loss feels like. Your mission, your goals, it keeps driving you forward. Who couldn’t notice that?”

Levi scoffed, and you managed out a tiny, “Captain Levi.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you telling me this?” you could feel the harsh prick of tears try to escape your eyes, blinking furiously to not allow them to fall.

“Because,” he brushed back your hair behind your ear with his spare hand. “We’re exactly the same, and I can’t allow you to continue living like this, knowing where you’ll end up. Are you a virgin, cadet?”

“Yes,” you stuttered, thoroughly embarrassed.

“I am too,” Levi confessed, his eyes baring his soul. “I’m in my thirties, and I’ve never taken a woman to bed. All because of my mission.”

“My parents raised me to save myself for marriage,” your lips hung open. “But, they’re dead now, and I’ll probably never be married.”

“Cadet?” Levi’s hand came up from your chin to rest his palm against your cheek. “You talk about choices, you told me about how you never followed the path set for you. Why don’t you allow yourself some peace, some comfort? If not for yourself, for others, for your fellow comrades?”

“Are you asking to fuck me, sir?” your body felt heavy, uncomfortably numb but you couldn’t will yourself to move an inch, your mind was frazzled.

“I’m asking for permission to comfort you, both of us. I’m tired of being alone, aren’t you?” his face had fallen completely, and you were in awe of how open and raw Levi was.

You didn’t answer him, instead pushing his hands off of your face to capture his cheeks in your own hands, forcing your lips together. Fuck the world, fuck the titans, fuck every single thing that dared to bother you and your existence. You were tired, tired of denying yourself pleasures and comfort and basic human interaction. Who cared if you all died? Would it be for naught that you had never gotten to know your comrades? What would be the point in dying for your military if you didn’t have a motivation, a passion driving you? You were so fucking lonely, and Levi was too as he crashed his lips against yours, wrapping his long arms around your back to hold you closer.

You felt the older ravenette pull away for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred and muscular chest. You ran your fingers over his middle slowly, taking in every dip and every flex of his body. Levi was beautiful, and you felt honored that you were here in this moment, with a man who had heard more of your thoughts and feelings than any person before. He stopped your hands as they came to his pecks, pushing your arms high to remove your own shirt.

Your nipples hardened meeting the cold air, exposed now in the dim candle light. You didn’t dare cover yourself, nor did Levi let you get the chance. His hands were all over your chest within an instant, caressing and groping as his lips met yours once again. You hadn’t bothered to tell Levi that he was your first kiss, the first man to see you naked, the first man who had shown genuine interest in you and your body. Maybe you’d tell him later, but for now, you just wanted to quell the thoughts swarming your mind.

You stood quickly, maneuvering your lips to the side of his exposed neck. Your kisses were sweet, innocent and pure as Levi began to pull your shorts off, your panties accompanying the fabric. You kicked out of them as Levi grabbed the back of your head, groaning as he slammed your mouths together once more in an open kiss.

Your hands were everywhere on his skin, trying desperately to remember every single detail, knowing that this would most likely be a one time thing. You knew the risks of becoming entangled in a romantic relationship in the military, more so the scouts. Levi or you, or anyone, could die at any moment. This only motivated you further in your desire, ripping down his pants, mildly surprised to see your captain not wearing any underpants.

Levi breathily mumbled as he grasped your waist and led you flat on your back atop his bed, “I thought you were dead today.”

“I’m not, and neither are you,” you hushed his spoken thoughts with another passionate kiss. He tasted minty from his tea, smelled of woodsy musk from his obvious earlier shower, his touch so soft as he grazed your body up and down.

You felt his knees between your legs as he loomed over you, pushing apart your thighs at the force. His right hand stroked your cheek as his tongue prodded past your willing lips, swollen from his attention. His left hand ventured south, resting upon the curve of your hip, digging his fingers to feel the supple flesh.

“You’re quite beautiful, y’know,” he mirrored your earlier ministrations, placing sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “One of the reasons I was so fascinated by you, I couldn’t understand how you weren’t married.”

“Maybe in another life,” you simply put, attention drawn to how sinful his lips felt against your flushed skin. He sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, and a whimper left your lips at the contact. You could feel your center slicken, cold air consuming all of your exposed skin. Levi’s hand dared closer and closer to your desire, and you made out the distinguished poke of his manhood against your lower stomach.

When his fingertips nudged against your folds, Levi let out a groan of pleasure, “You’re so wet, cadet. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Captain, I need this,” you begged, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him flush against you. “Please, distract me, make me forget.”

Levi felt no need to answer your pleads, instead allowing his fingers to familiarize himself with your most intimate of parts. His eyes stayed trained on yours, taking in every expression you made, one catching his focus immediately as his pointer finger circled the top of your folds. It felt like a button, and you started moaning desperately as he continued his circling.

“Feels good?” your captain asked, insecurity in the back of his mind.

“Yes,” you took your right hand away from Levi’s neck, grabbing his wrist that was in between your legs, dipping his fingers to your dripping entrance. “Need you here.”

He plunged his pointer and middle fingers in, and your velveteen walls clenched around him. You had pleasured yourself many times just like this, but the heightened pleasure of someone else’s knuckles deep inside you was incredible. No one had ever touched you like this before, looked at you so lovingly and so lustfully. His fingers scissored inside you, and you knew your patience would soon snap.

When Levi’s fingers curled upwards, you thought you were going to pass out. Your eyes screwed shut as loud mewls left your lips, Levi’s free hand covering your mouth. Your hips bucked upwards in his touch, hips rolling fast as your clit caught the fat of his palm. You could feel the familiar bubble of your climax, threatening to spill over as you arched your back.

Levi pulled his fingers from your weeping cunt then, so agonizingly slowly, “No, cadet. Not yet.”

You whined, pressure settling down in your abdomen as Levi took his soaking hand to his hard cock. You couldn’t believe that you hadn’t paid attention to his girth before, he was gorgeous. All the hard work and all the violence had sculpted your captain as if he were a statue. His length stood at full attention, pressed against his belly, his balls hanging in the free space between his thick thighs. You moaned at the sight of Levi stroking himself, seeing the glisten of your arousal coat him. He let out a strangled groan, before letting himself go, falling unceremoniously to capture your lips once again.

“You ready?” Levi asked permission, his kiss so sweet and tender, and you realized then the weight of all of this. You were about to lose your virginities to each other, he would forever hold a mark on you.

You smiled, so full of adoration, there wasn’t anyone else you’d rather be with right now as you spoke, “Yes, sir.”

Levi gripped the base of his dick, bumping the engorged head against your sensitive clit and through your folds as he coated himself more in your essence. You both knew this was going to hurt you, and had either of you not been in such a hurry, you’d take the time to mutually pleasure each other until your bodies were truly ready for this intimate act. There were no coherent thoughts in this moment, only pure passion and animalistic desire.

His tip sunk in, and you felt like you were going to be split in half. Your hands shot up to his arms, nails leaving half crescents on his biceps, your ankles hooking together on his ass as you tensed up at the pain.

“Relax,” he kissed your jaw with a groan. “Gonna’ take care of you.”

You nodded, focusing on his words instead of the pain. Your pelvic floor relaxed, and Levi was able to push himself deeper into your cavern.

“There’s no blood?” Levi questioned you curiously as he glanced down to where your bodies met, not moving even a centimeter to allow you to adjust.

The pain was quickly fading as you mumbled, “Probably broke my hymen on a goddamn horse.”

You both let out a breathy laugh, and Levi’s right hand came to stroke your cheek, pushing back your hair out of your face, “I’ll have to kill that horse then.”

You were rattling your brain for a witty response to your captain when Levi shifted, stroking his length backwards as your walls fluttered around him. Your face was no longer scrunched in pain, your eyebrows unfurrowed and your mouth hung open, feeling nothing but pleasure as his left hand shot to your pulsing pussy, thumbing your clit with the lightest of touches.

“Captain,” you stuttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Feels good.”

“Yeah,” he pushed his forehead to yours, his own eyes closing as he pushed his cock back into your depths, so slowly.

You placed a gentle kiss to his lips for a brief moment, neck craning off the pillow under your head. You felt a cramp as he kissed you back, so gently and so softly. You moved your mouth to his jaw, peppering kisses along any exposed skin you reach.

His right hand stayed positioned to your face, his grey colored orbs opened, focusing on your face. You looked up then, and felt your heart hammering in your chest. Levi was so handsome, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes softened without the weight of reality crashing down on him.

“I’m glad it’s you,” your arms were still wrapped around his neck as you rubbed soft circles along the ridge of his undercut. His hips held such a passionate, steady rhythm as he continued plunging into you.

Levi didn’t respond, his hand angling your face to his again. Although unspoken, you could see in his face that he appreciated your words, his thrusts faster in pace now. You couldn’t stop the moans from exiting your throat, volume increasing as his thumb worked you with more pressure. He swallowed your noises with his lips, not even kissing, the two of you just breathing into one another’s mouth.

Suddenly the distance wasn’t close enough, Levi’s hand left the curve of your cheek to wrap his arm around the middle of your back, forcing your body completely against his sweating one. His lips began to work against yours, sloppy and messy as you kissed the man back with the same fever.

Levi’s pace was solid, deep and without error. Your hips tried desperately to meet his thrusts, his wrist in between your centers blocking you from doing so. Your captain didn’t even so much as warn you to stop, his thumb rolling faster against your now swollen clit, that same heat in your stomach rebuilding rapidly. The two of you were so lost in each other, your arms leaving his neck to wrap around his shoulders and forcing his head down to your neck where he lapped and peppered kisses to conceal his own moans. You did the same, lips attached to the curve where his muscular shoulder met his neck.

His touch was unrelenting, but you felt the unmistakable shutter as he plunged right to your cervix, goosebumps rising on his skin under your fingertips. You let out a muffled moan, your nails clawing at his back, your legs somehow tighter around his backside.

Levi’s thumb rubbed harder, so much faster now than his thrusts. Your pussy was fluttering rapidly now, clenching and unclenching around his girth, you were so close. You had a feeling your captain was as well, his pace increasing even faster.

“I’m cumming,” you pulled away from his shoulder to warn Levi, sucking the sensitive area of his neck.

Levi moaned in pleasure, bucking his hips hard into you, and this was what sent you over the edge. Levi couldn’t move even if he wanted to as your cunt gripped him so tightly, contracting so hard around his length. You could hear a string of curses and ‘ah’s from his lips as your hips bucked wildly into his hand, rubbing your clit along his stilled thumb. You’d had plenty of self given orgasms before, but feeling completely filled as your walls fluttered around something was a pleasure you knew you’d be seeking again.

Your teeth were sunk into his neck, and Levi was finally able to continue his strokes as your orgasm slowed, your body limping. His thumb started once more, and you were whimpering at the overstimulation, your contractions not even done. He was pounding into you now, growling into your neck, you could feel the sharp clench of his jaw dig into your shoulder. It didn’t take you more than a minute to build up another orgasm, and as the new waves of pleasure slammed into you, Levi was pulling out.

You came around nothing as Levi rutted into your stomach, feeling the smear of hot cum rub against your middles. He was bucking desperately, moaning and whimpering. The sounds he made paired with the nonstop movement of his thumb only heightened your pleasure, your left hand coming to caress the back of his head.

He removed his touch from you, taking his dripping hand to your waist as his thrusts against your stomach slowed. It crawled under your back to meet his other arm, and he placed sensual, slow kisses to your neck. You did the same, thanking him non verbally. His head lifted, eyes half lidded as he placed his lips to yours, locking them in a saccharine embrace. He pulled away after a few moments, sliding off of your sticky body and out of the bed. Your arms fell to your sides, and he slipped his pants on, avoiding the area of his lower stomach where his cum was drying quickly. He rushed to his dresser, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping himself down quickly, returning back to your body to clean your middle as well.

“You’ll probably need to shower,” Levi broke the silence as he pulled the rag away, his empty hand roaming the curve of your side.

“Probably,” you mumbled in bliss, enjoying his light touch. “I’ll get up in just a minute.”

“You could stay,” Levi offered awkwardly, halting his movements.

“It’s okay, I think I want to be alone,” you smiled, your brain foggy. “Also don’t need rumors to start up if anyone sees me leaving your room in the morning.”

Levi only hummed as you pulled your naked body to a full stand, reaching for your discarded clothes. You pulled your long sleeve over your head first, the edges brushing against the tops of your thighs, stepping into your panties and shorts quickly. The silence was almost overwhelming, neither of you sure of what exactly to say.

“Captain Levi,” you finally spoke, ready to depart. “Thank you.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling your body to his with no real force, kissing you passionately. You kissed him back hungrily, and had you been more experienced, you would’ve felt the flicker of sparks deep within your stomach, a signal of unconscious feelings sprouting within you.

You pulled away from him, a smile playing at your lips as he spoke raspily, “You know where to go if you don’t want to be alone.”

You threaded your fingers through his open palm, bringing his knuckles to your lips as you placed a soft peck to the back of his hand, “I will, Captain. Goodnight.”

The heat of the sun beat harshly on your back, your body in a full ache as you dodged a punch from Eren. You went to lift your leg into a kick, a yelp leaving your lips at the feeling that you were going to rip in half, and quickly shifted your hips to plan a new attack. Thankfully, your fake out worked, seeing Eren prepare himself for your leg, not for your first to go flying into his gut.

With a loud groan of pain, Eren laid flat on his back in the dirt. Your chests heaved, sweat dripping down your skin, and you extended your palm to the younger boy. You had won this spar, and Eren huffed as he smacked his hand away playfully.

“I had you last time! I can’t believe I lost again!” he complained, eyebrows furrowed as he screwed his eyes shut in a fit.

You laughed then, crossing your arms over your chest, “You got lucky, Jaeger.”

Around the two of you, all the cadets were still in their own sparring matches. Even in your weary state, you had been the first match finished, and you feel a swell of pride. You were getting stronger, more fit to survive the harsh reality of this world.

“Cadets,” Captain Levi made himself known then, stepping forward from the row of squad leaders, unbeknownst to you and Eren he had been watching with a trained eye the entire fight.

“Captain!” you saluted, Eren lazily following along silently.

Levi’s eyes lingered over you for a minute, before shifting his attention to Eren before scoffing, “Pathetic, Jaeger. You need to work on your form.”

You tried desperately to hide a smirk, eyes lit up in amusement as Eren frowned deeply, sighing, trying not to lash out on your superior. Levi continued, “Cadet, good job.”

“Thank you, Captain,” you smiled brightly, now trying to conceal the oncoming heat of your blush flaming up your neck, licking the tips of your ears.

“However, never let your guard down after you think you’ve won.”

The sound of your skull cracking into the ground beneath you sent your vision in a dizzy frenzy. Levi hovered over you, and you could make out the lingering feeling of his boot hitting your stomach, causing you to lay flat on your back. The sun was high in the sky today, not a single cloud in view or whisk of wind felt.

“Ow,” you heaved, bringing yourself into a seated position, hunched over. “What was that for?”

“You can’t always predict what a titan’s next move is going to be,” Levi cooly explained, crouching down to meet your eye level. “This is how you fucked up, both times, with an abnormal. You have to pay attention. You can’t let yourself get caught up in a victory. Understood, brat?”

You nodded, feeling your ears grow hot as multiple sets of eyes watched on in curiosity, “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll see you in my office after dinner for your punishment,” his eyes twinkled, a hint of a smirk on the corner of his lips. “Cockiness is not befitting for a brat like you.”

You groaned, biting your tongue to hold back words you knew would come across as disrespectful. You didn’t see what you did to deserve a punishment, but you huffed as Levi strolled away, yelling at Eren about something. Probably about his smirk when he watched you fall on your ass.

Turns out your punishment was anything but, instead a much rougher fucking left your body nearly in shambles. This became a routine, instead of traveling outside to stare at the stars and lose yourself in your thoughts, Levi’s body became your comfort, your relief. He felt the same, pouring his loneliness into your willing body as he claimed you night after night, week after week.

He’d tell you sometimes in the afterglow of your orgasms that this was strengthening the squad, this was for the betterment of the scouts. Because what better way was there to build trust? You’d listen half heartedly, knowing this was all an excuse to rationalize why you continued seeking each other’s comfort.

Levi was soon fiercely protective of you, and you unconsciously him. This was reinforced after the 57th expedition failed horribly, the faces of your deceased squad members haunting your dreams every night. Levi would hold you as you sobbed through the nightmares. It hurt, so fucking much. Levi would whisper to you that you just had to keep moving forward. You would nod your head and listen. Your captain knew best, and you were finding it harder every passing day to pretend that he didn’t.

You didn’t try to make sense of your relationship, just letting it exist. Some days you’d push him away, others you’d pull the ravenette closer to your body. Caught between wanting to leave the man you’d realized you’d fallen in love with, or go into hiding away from the military with Levi and marry the son of a bitch. You liked to think he felt the same, his words few, but his acts spoke volumes of his feelings.

And when you laid limp on the battlefield, titan corpses steaming around you, your breaths shallow as your tired body began to prepare to shut down, you smiled. Everything all at once came flooding to you as you stared up at the sky, completely alone.

You blinked at the clouds, painted so pretty in pinks and oranges at the setting sun. You could hear your name being screamed somewhere in the distance, the voice vaguely familiar. You felt relief wash over you as the large open wound on your stomach gushed an unbelievable amount of blood. Full of shock, your adrenaline keeping your pain at bay, you thought humorously that you had no idea you had that much blood running through your body.

Raven hair and charcoal eyes entered your hazy vision, and you kept that smile on your face. Your fingers reached up, reaching Levi’s soaking cheek, not being able to tell if it was because of blood, or tears. You smoothed your thumb under his eye, and you were being lifted. You couldn’t hear his words, only the dullness of sound as the world continued to slow around you.

You stared at the clouds, completely at peace. You had conquered your biggest fear, growing close to another, just to lose them. Images of Levi flashes before your eyes, his stoic expression, his commanding leadership, his sensual caresses, his passionate kisses as he poured all of his feelings out for you. You loved him, you realized. You were so happy that you got to experience this in this lifetime.

The colors of the sky blurred together, and you could feel the wind whisk around you as Levi shot off on his odm gear. You were finally flying in the clouds.

#tw: blood #tw: death #tw: talk of death #tw: dying #tw: violence #tw: angst #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x y/n #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi #levi ackerman #tw: dark themes

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

Text

Santa Daddy | Jean Kirstein x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Daddy kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, mutual pining, friends to lovers (or, rather, idiots to lovers), lots of holiday fluff

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift to @whats-her-quirk 🎄💕 June, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend; I was truly lucky and privileged to get you as my Elf for Secret Santa! I hope this fluffy (and dirty) little fic with our best boi Jean brings you some holiday cheer!

There were only a few things in the world that made you happier than watching Jean Kirstein smile. Like most of your friends, you’d met him through work, but there was always something so special, almost magical, about seeing his darling smile and hearing his boisterous laugh. And you rarely passed up on a chance to see delight spread across his handsome face, which is why you couldn’t say no when he asked you to join him on a get-a-away with your friends for the holidays.

The inquiry came after you mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays due to a winter storm blowing in. It would be the second season in a row that the weather kept you from visiting home.

You could still hear his voice in your head, “alone? For Christmas?”

He’d then insisted you join him and his friends at Sasha’s family cabin. It was tradition for them, a gathering of misfits finding communion together out in the wilderness for a few days before the new year. You had taken trips with your friends before to amusement parks, festivals, even to the beach at Armin’s request, but something about being invited to an intimate setting to celebrate holiday traditions had you anxious.

So, there you were, swaddled in blankets, listening to Eren bicker with Mikasa while Sasha and Connie bustled in the kitchen to make eggnog and treats. Armin had declined to join, citing that he’d seen too many horror movies about young adults alone in cabins to feel comfortable making the trip.

And, true to form, Jean was running late. He was always late, his mind constantly moving a mile a minute unless he consigned himself to much needed rest and relaxation. Though, this time, you felt a little lonely while waiting for him on the couch, like there was a small part of you missing as you watched the snow fall outside.

“So, none of you guys go home for the holidays?” You looked over toward the modest, plastic tree that Sasha had thrown down from her attic to bring a little holiday cheer to the living room, a few poorly wrapped presents and bags nestled under the branches.

“Well,” Eren cleared his throat, “we are orphans.” He pulled at Mikasa’s scarf for emphasis.

“Oh fuck, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t worry about, he just always brings it up to get sympathy gifts.” Mikasa sighed, jerking the red cloth from his hands and scowling. Eren only laughed, brushing a stray hair from his face that had come loose from the bun at his nape.

You sunk a little deeper into the cushions, eyes glancing out the window in hopes you’d see headlights flash in the driveway.

“Do you think Jean’s okay? He should’ve been here a while ago and the storm is getting closer.”

“Jean, Jean, Jean,” Sasha trotted into the room, balancing a mountain of sweet-smelling cookies on a plate, “you’re always worried about him.”

“Someone should be, guy’s an idiot.” Eren chimed in, green eyes shining from the low flames rolling in the fireplace. He and Mikasa were sitting in the floor, a game of checkers spread out before them, with more stolen pieces resting near the cunning Ackerman’s side of the board.

Eren wasn’t wrong, but over the years you’d known your group of friends, you’d noticed just how much the man in question had grown. In his early twenties, Jean had been quite the bumbling fool, having literally met you by bumping into your shoulder while leaving work, only to look at you and mumble “god you’re beautiful,” before issuing a quick apology as he rubbed at his neck sheepishly. You’d never mentioned the moment again, though your stomach still churned with a slight thrill every time you thought about it.

But over the years he’d managed to turn that puerility into something much more charming. He was more refined, almost infuriatingly suave, easily gaining attention from anyone and everyone. And though you sometimes hated to admit it, he’d captured your thoughts as well.

You kept your budding crush on Jean Kirstein close to your chest, not admitting it to any of your close friends. You always figured he was out of your league, seeing that he had a new, more beautiful girlfriend just about every other month. But, despite your simmering feelings, you still allowed yourself to get closer and closer to him over the years—some might say he’s your best friend, but you might call him your most treasured vexation.

Another hour or so went by, your time spent nibbling at cookies and reminiscing with everyone about another year passed.

Then the door finally opened, cold air gusting into the small living room as Jean stomped his damp boots on the entry mat.

“Have you guys opened presents yet?”

You glanced over the back of the couch, heart tugging in your chest as you noticed snow dusted in his long hair and a sizeable red and white polka dot package in his hands.

“No because Christmas is tomorrow, or did you forget that too?” Connie said it with crumbs in his mouth, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

Jean laughed, running a hand through his hair before wrapping the gift in his arms like it was something valuable.

“I know, I know, and sorry I’m late, had something important to go get.” He smiled, bright and cheery, hazel eyes bouncing between his friends and the carefully guarded box, “I ask because…uh, this needs to be opened kind of soon.”

“Is it perishable?” Sasha perked up, already ready to go make room in the fridge if something delectable was waiting as a gift.

“I mean…you could say that? It may or may not be alive.” He was laughing, that kind of infectious laughter that had everyone in the room grinning whether they wanted to or not.

Jean didn’t set the present down to even take off his shoes, instead tracking snow in with him and plopping onto the couch with flurries still on shoulders. He nudged your knee with his, pushing the present toward you. You pressed your lips together, hands getting sweaty as you pieced the puzzle together.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah,” his grin was pulling at his cheeks, eyes so sincere and happy and it almost startled you, “it’s for you.”

The top of the box moved, the green bow popping on top of the polka dots.

You moved the gift into your lap, pulling off the top to find perky ears and green eyes peering up at you—a kitten, grey and striped, with long, white whiskers and a pink bow around its neck greeted you with muted curiosity. You just stared at it for a moment, and it stared back, like you were both wondering just how it got into your lap.

“I just,” Jean was getting nervous, carding his fingers through his hair again as he waited for your reaction, “I wanted to make sure you’d never spend another holiday alone, you know?”

You carefully picked up the little cat, watching how it stretched and yawned as you pulled it from the carefully lain blanket inside its temporary home.

You smiled, pulling the warm little bundle to your chest.

“Um, Jean, this cat has six toes on her paws,” you said, pressing your thumb gently against one of the extra appendages in question.

“Six toes?!” Sasha was jumping up from her seat, bounding over to kneel in front of you and pluck one of the kitten’s paws into her fingers. The cat quickly pulled its paw back, little black toe beans curling to its chest.

“Yeah, it’s what drew me to her. She’s extra special…” you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, a little musing of “just like you,” but any hushed murmur was overshadowed by the ohs and ahs of your friends gathering around to look at the adorable little creature.

The kitten had been lulled to sleep by the car ride from the shelter to the cabin, content to just curl up in your arms as inquisitive fingers prodded at her little kitten mittens and the silky, white tufts in her ears. Even Mikasa was enraptured by the tiny animal, taking the time to retie the little pink ribbon around her neck to make a bigger, prettier bow.

You noticed how your friends were whispering, cheeky grins pressed against eager ears as they looked between you, the precious kitten, and Jean on the couch. You were starting to feel like you were missing something, or maybe that you were at the end of a joke you hadn’t caught on to yet.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Jean after the fuss died down, everyone returning to their seats and back to their previous fixations.

You’d mentioned perhaps wanting a cat a few weeks ago; it was just a silly, off-hand comment you made over coffee about how you’d once read that people with cats live longer because they pick up on the nine-lives of their feline partner. You didn’t believe it to be true, but you’d mused about the idea of having a cute kitten of your own to snuggle up with on lonely nights.

“I know it’s sudden and a lot of responsibility, so if you don’t want her—”

“No,” you cut Jean off, bundling the kitten a little closer in your arms, your heart singing as you felt her start to purr, “no, I want her, she’s perfect.”

Jean finally started to get settled himself, standing up and shrugging off his jacket. He was in a tight turtleneck, coal black threads stretched to their limit across his broad chest and shoulders, hugging his trim waist. You were careful not to stare for too long as he stretched his arms above his head to shake off the weariness of his drive through the snow.

He always looked like he stepped out of a fashion catalogue, fresh and so put together that sometimes you were tempted to snap his photo when he wasn’t looking; he just looked that good all the time. He loved to wear designer clothes and keep up with the latest menswear trends, and tonight was no different, that beautiful black turtleneck (that was covered in grey fur) undoubtedly belonging to a designer whose name you probably couldn’t pronounce.

“What are you gonna name her?”

He sat a little closer this time on the couch, a brawny arm outstretched behind you as he leaned over to scratch at the kitten’s chin.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, gazing down at the serene, sleepy face in your arms, “I’ll have to get to know her first.”

“Well, I’ve been calling her Frankie.”

“Frankie?” You smiled through your confusion, the name sounding oddly right.

“She was pretty wild in the car and kept meowing when Frank Sinatra was on the radio.”

“I see,” you laid the kitten down into your lap, sweeping your fingers through her fur and watching as she curled up into a tighter little circle, “well, I’ll consider it.”

You felt warm, heavy fingers brush against the back of your neck, Jean absentmindedly painting figure eights into your prickling skin. Heat flushed to your face as you realized just how close your bodies had become—his thigh was pressed against your own, dark jeans tight and hot, the scruff of his cheeks brushing against your own as he toyed with the sleeping cat’s tail.

There were voices all around you, the muffled sounds of your friends relaxing together falling almost on deaf ears. Your whole world felt like it just revolved around this couch, like nothing else mattered beyond the simple touches to your skin and the drowsy kitten beneath your hands. He never wanted you to spend another holiday alone, you replayed his words, the sweet sentiment finally settling into your spirit.

_______________

You could tell everyone was starting to get a bit sleepy, a few hours spent drinking spiked eggnog and chasing the new kitten around with a feather toy having left you especially exhausted. Your head was a little swimmy as you bid everyone goodnight, the grey tabby cat following closely on your heels to your bedroom where Jean had already brought in a litter box and a bed for her to sleep in. Jean, underneath all the designer bravado and smiles, was perhaps the most thoughtful person you knew.

But despite the heaviness in your head, you couldn’t seem to sleep. You tossed and turned in the bed, occasionally picking up your phone to scroll through it or just watch the time tick by. You had a lot of thoughts mulling around in your mind, most of them revolving around the man sleeping just right across the hall.

Never in a million years did you expect Jean to walk in with a beautiful, perfect kitten as a gift. The little thing was back to sleeping again, this time curled around one of your feet, each exhale a little purr against your toes.

You’d carried the weight of this crush around for too many years. You rubbed your palms against your eyes, sighing as you came to terms with your feelings for Jean for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pining was starting to take its toll, too, what with the sleeping giant so close yet so far away.

And you still felt like you were missing something.

Throughout the night, your friends had seemingly been playing coy, teasing Jean about getting you such a big, sentimental gift. Maybe they had all caught wind of your suppressed feelings and were poking at Jean for even daring to indulge you. Now you were just getting frustrated with your thoughts, sighing as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep.

But then you heard a little sound, the soft buzz of your phone against the wood of the night stand.

Jean: You awake?

Your heart skipped a little in your chest as you saw his name flash upon your screen. You texted him nearly every day, yet he never failed to send a little jolt of adrenaline down your spine.

You: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

Jean: Me either. Cabin is too fucking cold.

You: I have a kitty asleep on my feet, definitely helps beat the chill.

Jean: A warm kitty sounds nice right now.

Only a few seconds passed before the next message appeared.

Jean: Wanna come keep me company?

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment, your mind not even thinking about the words in front of you. Instead, you were picturing Jean in his bed, hair tussled with his own phone in his hand as he texted you, light spilling over his bare chest in the dark. You wondered what he was thinking—maybe he just wanted you to bring the cat over to see him for a bit, or maybe his mind was wandering in the same place yours was, which was picturing him naked beneath his sheets.

You set the phone down, momentarily starting to panic.

You hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Jean might be asking you to come get in his fucking bed with him. Thank god you took a leisurely shower earlier—and you still smelled good, you checked.

You stood up from the bed, watching the kitten stretch and quickly fall back asleep on top of the blankets. You bent down to slip on your pajama pants, but then found yourself debating if you should just leave the flimsy material behind.

If this was what you were hoping it was, walking in without pants would send the “I got the hint, I’m here to fuck,” message loud and clear.

But if this was just “hey pal come keep me company, I’m bored,” walking into his room in nothing but a shirt and panties could be quite awkward.

You decided to hedge your bets, stuffing your pajama bottoms back into your bag as that lingering liquid courage from the eggnog set in. If worse came to worse, you could always say you forgot to pack them.

You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure the cat didn’t follow.

Then, it was literally just a few steps to Jean’s room. Conveniently, his door was cracked. Did he get up and leave it open for you? Did he always sleep with his door cracked? Or had he planned all along to ask you to come over?

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. Those inessential thoughts needed to be quieted.

The door creaked as you slid past it, the old hinges signaling your arrival and making Jean’s attention whip towards you. His phone was still in his hand, like was watching your messages and too-eagerly anticipating your reply.

“Hey,” you whispered into the darkness, wincing as the door kept groaning as you pushed it shut behind you. You leaned against it for a moment, too nervous to just waltz up to his bed and fall in. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to break the silence.

“Aren’t you cold?” He whispered back, shifting in the bed.

His figure was illuminated by the pale, grey light from window, the snow clouds still keeping the moon suppressed in the sky. Like you’d imagined, he was shirtless, all those hard-earned muscles on display from where he was propped up on his elbows, sheets low against his waist.

“I thought you were cold, Mr. No Shirt.”

“You’re not wearing pants.”

“I’m not wearing pants,” you parroted back.

You watched the smile spread across his face, that darling, infuriatingly pretty smile that made you a little too happy in this moment.

He pulled his sheets back in invitation, revealing that he, too, was not wearing pants, only clad in blue boxer briefs that were sinfully tight around his upper thighs, etchings of Calvin Klein pressed against his lower stomach.

His hands were on you before you even settled onto the mattress, warm and greedy and pulling you flush against his body. All those worried thoughts you had before vanished under his touch, the message you had been missing suddenly loud and clear: you weren’t the only one hiding your feelings. All those veiled emotions came alive beneath wandering hands, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his found the flesh of your thighs.

“Was this what you were thinking about when you invited me here?”

You breathed in the smell of his warm skin as you settled against him, notes of his cologne still lingering against his body.

“This is what I think about all the time,” he confessed, nudging his thigh between your legs.

You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your mouth as the muscles of his thigh pressed against your aching core.

“Me too,” you were pulling his face down to yours, thumbs against his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

A satisfied sound rang from both of your throats, lips melding and slanting against one another hungrily.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His words were lost within the kiss, being swallowed down as you kept drinking him in.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You echoed back, gasping as his hands slid underneath your shirt and began to wander across your belly, reaching up toward your ribcage.

You both knew the answer to that: you were idiots, too scared to admit feelings even though they were clearly on display for everyone around you. But now the question didn’t matter, all the answers you wanted about to be shared between your anxious bodies with starved kisses and touches.

You shamelessly pressed yourself a little harder against his thigh, sighing as your pussy found relief against his leg. He groaned at your action, moving his thigh back and forth a little bit to see how you would react. When you whimpered, your own thighs squeezing around his, he smirked, repeating the motion of sweeping his thick, sturdy thigh back and forth between your legs.

“You like that?” His head was tilting down, teeth nipping at your jaw and down your neck as your head fell back against the pillow.

“Y-yes, feels so good.”

His hands were still traveling, wandering across your heated skin like he wanted to map your curves into his memory. He groaned against your throat when he discovered you’d also forgotten to wear anything under your t-shirt, his thumbs lazily brushing the undersides of your breasts.

You felt like you were burning beneath his sheets, like he was painting fire against your skin with every touch. His large hands engulfed your breasts, carefully kneading and rolling your soft flesh in his palms. He was eager to kiss you again, to slip his tongue past your parted lips and get addicted to your taste.

Jean pinched and pulled at your hardening nipples, greedily taking your little mewls into his mouth. He touched you like he already knew you, pulling at your body like you were the perfect little sex doll on strings for him to play with; rocking you on his thigh, tugging at your nipples, tongue dancing in your mouth, his hair tickling your cheeks, his cock hard and hot against his stomach.

Your panties were getting more and more wet by the second, the soaked material sinking into your folds as you rubbed yourself against the downy hairs and rounded, solid muscle of his upper thigh. His boxer briefs were bunching closer to his hips, pre-cum already staining against the fabric where his cock was imprinted into the threads. You slipped your hand down his impressive chest, fingers dipping into the elastic of his briefs.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling back to suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against the head of his cock, “fuck you’re so hot riding my thigh like that, so fucking wet.”

“You did say you wanted a warm kitty.”

Your words had him pinching harder at your nipples, making you gasp as he chuckled.

“Mhm I can’t wait to play with your kitty, make you mine,” he punctuated his sentence by bouncing his leg up, sending electric pulses of pleasure racing over your nerves.

You responded by pulling his cock from its confines, wrapping your fingers around it and tugging at the silken skin. God he was thick, barely fitting in your palm as you moved your wrist up and down. You suddenly felt so small against him, realizing that he was dwarfing you just by lying next to you in the bed. His long, thick fingers could spread across the entirety of your chest, the thigh sliding against your pussy was enormous, but it felt like it belonged there; you could get used to riding him like this.

You both fell into a frenzied, delirious rhythm, your bodies bucking and panting as you found bliss against each other.

His hands slid down your body, leaving your tender breasts and searching for a new home. He found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked you back and forth against his thigh himself, using the strength in his forearms to have your pussy pressed down against him in the most perfect way to have you seeing stars and whining his name.

“Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum just from riding me?”

“Fuck, yeah, yes, please, make me cum like this.”

Your hand had gone slack against his cock, your mind almost unable to concentrate under the waves of pleasure building and coiling inside you.

It felt too good to have his rapacious hands on your hips, grip mean and tight as he basically fucked you against his thigh. You wanted to scream, your other hand clawing at the back of his neck for stability.

“Baby,” he breathed, peppering a few kisses along your cheek, “could…could you call me daddy when you cum?”

There was a hesitancy in his voice, like he was ashamed to ask such a thing.

Your lower belly clenched, heat racing across all your nerve endings like he’d just poured sin straight out of his mouth.

You nodded your head for him, uncontrollable moans and gasps getting in the way of your own words. The thought of calling him daddy, that sent something wicked down to your pussy, had your fingers squeezing and tugging at his cock again and your eyes falling shut.

It felt like your sanity was breaking, like reality was splintering and this wasn’t real—you were dreaming again, weren’t you? But then you felt his cock twitch in your hand, felt your swollen clit brush against your panties and his thigh, and you were thrusted back into the actuality of your situation. You were with Jean, he was groaning in your ear, and you were about to cum all over him.

“D—da…,” you were choking, so overwhelmed with a final cresting of bliss that you almost felt like sobbing.

But he just clutched you more tightly, pressed you harder against him, whispering your name in encouragement to let yourself go for him.

Then, you lost all of your sensibilities, euphoria washing over your body as you snapped and came undone with a little whine of, “daddy,” against his lips. You slowed the rocking of your hips, your heart beating out of your chest, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you rode out the last remnants of your orgasm.

“Holy fucking shit that’s so hot, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, one of his hands smoothing against your cheek.

“Wha—,” you smiled, shaking your head as you caught your breath, “what are you doing with a daddy kink, Jean?”

He mimicked your smile, hands moving to slide your ruined panties down your legs and removed the rest of your clothing as he repositioned your bodies. You let him move you around like a ragdoll, so delirious in your afterglow that you barely even registered how he was hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

“Do you not like calling me daddy?” There was a seriousness laced into his tone that told you he’d drop it if it made you uncomfortable.

“I like it,” you fisted one of your hands in his hair, bringing his lips to yours for a slow, messy kiss, “just didn’t expect it.”

“I’m full of surprises, baby.”

You felt the head of his cock nudge between your wet folds, his hands back on your hips where they belonged. Your head fell back against the pillow as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls and making your toes go almost numb from the pleasure. You felt like you were splitting apart, like a fissure was forming down the middle of your body, stemming from where he was spearing into you.

With your legs on his broad shoulders, he was pushing you into the mattress, his hands urging your hips to relax and let him sink into your warm heat.

“Ohhhh fuckkkk daddy,” you couldn’t help but to whine, all your senses suddenly overwhelmed again. You were drowning in him, falling deeper and deeper into the throes of heaven with every inch of his fat cock slipping inside of you.

“God you’re so tight,” he presses his forehead to yours, keen eyes watching how your lips were falling apart and your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, “that’s right, daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

It felt like all your history with him was being wiped away, like this moment wasn’t about two friends fulfilling all their years of mutual pining, but instead about a new relationship blooming between two bodies full of lust and desire. This was about Jean fucking you senseless, about him taking control and finally having what’s belonged to him for longer than he probably even realized. You wanted to lose yourself to him, lose yourself to his appetite and just let him devour you.

All the air left your lungs when bottomed out inside of you, your walls clenching and sucking him in. He stayed still for a moment, nearly lost himself at the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his cock out of you slowly before pressing in again, your cunt greedily sucking him back in.

“I always have been,” you teased, one hand lost in his hair while the other slid down the expanse of his back. You bucked your hips in his hands, coaxing him to keep moving.

“Oh fuck. Good girl.”

His praise made you feel drunk, liquid heat rushing to your ears and between your legs.

He began to snap his hips, repeatedly burying his cock into your depths, the angle of your body making him hit that fleshy patch inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being so stuffed, your walls burning from the intrusion but that coil inside your belly tightening again, hotter and more intense than before.

“Mhmmm, such a good girl, I promise,” you pressed your lips to his in reassurance, letting your breathy moans fall into his mouth as he started to get a little rougher. His pace was steady, solid, a hard motion of his cock thrusting in and out of you, each push and pull full of purpose and passion. Every plunge was making your lower stomach spasm, making pleasure burst across your body so forcefully that you felt that urge to cry again.

“Wanted to fuck you for so long,” his face was tucked underneath your chin, mouth trailing across your throat between his words. A particularly hard suck against your neck had your back arching, breasts flattening against his chest and your nails clinging to him.

Jean sat back on his knees, big hands smoothing down your thighs as he looked to where your bodies were conjoined, watching how your pussy enveloped his cock with every thrust of his hips, sweet skin encasing all of his length. He looked enraptured by the sight, groaning and hissing every time he pressed inside of you.

Then his eyes were flashing up to your face, softening as he took note of your blissed-out state, your face flushed and your lip between your teeth.

“So pretty,” he mused, a palm ghosting up to your chest to toy with one of your tits as he found a new rhythm.

You were ensnared by the scene before you as well, eyes wide with delight as you admired the man before you. Jean felt unhinged, electric between your legs, like he’d finally let go and was pouring all his clandestine secrets into your willing body. His chestnut hair was swept over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and across his body rolling, rounded and thick like he was marble come to life. And his face was smooth, pretty, concentrated, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body.

Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

“Daddy,” you called out to him, having to bite back a grin as you observed how quickly you earned his attention, “you feel s-so good,” your hand was traveling down your chest, trailing over his fingers on your breast before snaking down to your clit, “p-please let me cum again.”

You had an inkling that he would take over for you.

His thick, long fingers hovered over your own, carefully aiding in swirling over your aching clit. You hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly.

Jean’s other hand slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, legs tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted. His thumb was almost impatient on your clit, now circling so quickly that your body was shaking, lower stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly like you were lost in a reckless tide.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last with you squeezing me like that, baby.”

Your mouth watered at the thought of him finding that ultimate pleasure inside of you. Your ears became tuned to the chorus of resonances between your legs, the sweet, wet sounds of skin against skin, of slick at the base of a fat cock, of Jean grunting your name like a lost prayer.

The final chord of your sanity was threatening to snap, you could feel it again, like he was pulling the strings of your body too tightly and you were going to splinter and break with just the right swipe of his thumb.

“I-inside,” you mewled, unable to keep your eyes open any longer as your thighs began to quake, “daddy—oh fuck, fuck—cum inside me, please,”

God you were so fucking close to falling off the edge, and he could feel it, using his grip to bring you even harder and faster down onto your cock to get you careening and falling again.

Your push into oblivion came when you heard him pleading, almost whining, above you, sweat dripping down his skin as his syllables flowed together, “please, please, please, fuck, cum for daddy, cum for me, please.”

You could both feel it, how you creamed around his cock, pussy sucking him in so deliciously tight that it caused him to lose all control. His fingers dug a little too deep, his cock throbbing and pumping deep inside of you with his release. It was like the world went quiet, like a blanket of snow fell onto your bodies and hushed your sounds and cooled your skin. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, like he was meant to be there. Your body relaxed, feeling like you were sinking into the mattress and he was the only thing keeping you from being lost.

When he finally pulled his spent cock from inside you, he wasn’t gone long. His hands were back on you again, pulling you in for simple, affectionate kisses and rubbing tenderly at the places he’d perhaps explored too roughly.

“Jean…” you cut yourself off with a yawn, fatigued limbs winding into his own.

His thigh found its home between your legs again, both of you groaning with a mixture of lust and disgust as you felt his cum drip into a mess between your thighs.

“Whatever it is can wait until morning, we need to sleep.”

“Oh fuck, it’s Christmas.”

He nuzzled your cheek, lips searching for yours.

“Mhmm, Merry Christmas, baby.”

You laughed, laying your head against his chest.

_______________

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but it felt like you spent a small eternity in Jean’s bed before your eyes opened again. When you awoke, he was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the kitten in his arms. She was ready to play, striped tail swishing as he dangled a toy mouse just out of her reach.

“What time is it?” You stretched, suddenly all too aware that you were still very naked beneath the sheets.

“It’s only eight, everyone else is still asleep aside from Mikasa who actually went for a run in the fucking snow.”

Jean smiled, hair tucked behind his ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized just how madly in love with him you were. You always aimed to make him smile, to hear him laugh, but to see him gazing at you in the morning sun with pure adoration shining in his hazel eyes had you practically melting into the bed.

“I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, turning the kitten loose to run across the bed.

“You said a lot of things last night, daddy,” you teased, watching his cheeks turn a pretty pink at the mention of that name.

“I meant about you never spending another holiday alone. Because, you know, I’d like to…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was genuinely nervous.

You sat up, running a hand down his arm before kissing at his shoulder, momentarily getting lost in the smell and feel of him.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

No one was surprised that the two of you, and the kitten, spent every single holiday together thereafter, mostly naked, and always smiling.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #aot jean #aot jean kirstein #snk jean #snk jean kirstein #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot #jean aot #jean kirstein fanfic

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though! Word Count: 15,088

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks, Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible.

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #shinobu x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #kny oneshots #kny x reader

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1-800-gaygentsofshield · 3 years

Text

five more minutes | n.r.

summary: Soulmates cursed to never be together, each life always longing for a love that they've never met..or so they think.

warnings: temporary character deaths, reincarnation?, violence, self-sacrifice, angst with a happy ending, implied sexual content, language

based off of Billie Eilish's cover of "the end of the fucking world" originally produced by Rob Dickinson

one life is based on the film “underwater” by William Eubank

word count: 8,344

---- = separate life

/ = a skip in time, same life

Your chest is heaving as you pry open the door to the last safe house in the city, everything turning to hell ever since the “End of the World” started happening. Smoldering flakes of ash were falling from the sky and the bombs were getting set off every few minutes, absolute mayhem engulfing the world around you. This safe house was located on the city's outskirts, technically not disaster-proof but far away enough to be human-proof from the rest of the world.

You belong to one of the major power families that run your district, your father and mother getting killed earlier this morning because of it. The y/l/n's have always been feuding with the other families in control, everyone always hungry for power and willing to do anything to let their family have it.

Stepping inside the house, your boots creak on the wood, the door slowly closing behind you. Your gun feels heavy on your waist as you cautiously take a few steps forward, listening for any signs that someone else might be in the safe house with you.

You hear another creek of the floorboards and in one swift motion, you pull out your gun, keeping your finger resting on the trigger. You move quietly to the kitchen where the noise came from, arm raised and aimed forward. Almost simultaneously, both of you sidestep and see each other, the corners of your lips twitching up as you see Natalia in all her glory. "Y/n." Natasha greets curtly and you nod your head, both of you aiming guns at one another. "Natalia." You say in the same tone before the ground shakes, rattling the house. "Running away like always?" Nat taunts and your eyes quickly scan over her features, taking in the disheveled and tired look on her face.

"You were here first." You comment and she rolls her eyes, adjusting the grip on her gun. "I'm gonna have to kill you now, huh?" She says and you quirk an eyebrow, still on edge as you watch her body language. "Do you really want to kill me? Or does your family just want to?" You ask and her eyebrows furrow, you not wanting to deal with this stupid family feud while the world is ending around you. When the redhead doesn't answer, you shake your head, a breathy laugh escaping your lips as you look at Natalia. "What happened to us, Nat? We used to be so close." You say and Nat sighs, glancing down at her gun before making eye contact with you. "Family happened Y/n. Families got greedy for power and we got dragged into it. A Romanova couldn't be associated with a y/l/n, could it?" She says and you purse your lips together, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you make a decision.

"I don't want to spend my last few moments on earth fighting you, Talia." You say as you slowly lower your gun, Natasha's shoulders relaxing slightly at the action. "What are you saying, Y/n?" Nat asks and you look at your childhood best friend with a certain desperation in your eyes. "I'm asking you to put our family feuds aside, just this once." You pause briefly before speaking. "I don't want to be alone when the world ends." You say softly and Nat contemplates your offer, only taking a few moments to make up her mind. Natalia nods her head and slowly puts the gun down, giving you a soft "okay" as she looks at you. You nod your head and echo her statement, whispering a soft "okay." before holstering your gun.

You’re sitting on the front porch as you watch the world around you fall apart, sipping on some old beer you found in the fridge. The soft opening of the front door causes your head to turn, seeing Natalia step onto the porch with a cigarette in hand.

You’ve been listening to the radio for the past hour, hearing the news cover the chaos as you sit there with the wind blowing in your face.

Natalia doesn't say anything as slowly moves to sit down beside you, wordlessly offering you a hit of her cigarette. You shake your head and hold up your beer in a similar fashion, Nat shaking her head as well. The rustling of the grass and the crackling radio are the only things heard as you both look forward, Nat placing the cigarette between her lips and you taking a swig of your beer.

Tentatively, you place your head on Natalia's shoulder, trying to see how the other woman would react. You feel Nat tense up at your action and you internally panic, thinking that you stepped over a line. Sure, you could've done that when you both were little..but now you're all grown up, times have changed. You're about to pull away when Nat wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her as she relaxes. There are no words exchanged as you lean into her side, Nat taking one last drag of her cigarette before tossing it on the ground. Crushing the nub with her boot, she makes sure it's exterminated, not wanting to start a fire (not like it matters though). You both sit there in a comfortable silence afterward, the radio droning on and on about how horrible the world is.

After a while, you decide to break the silence, still keeping your head on Nat's shoulder. "I love you, Talia." You say softly, feeling the warmth radiating off of the other woman. "What did you say?" She asks and your head turns slightly to look at her, trying to read her expression. "I love you, Talia." You repeat, lowering your head back down to her shoulder once you've made eye contact. "Always have, always will." You finish and wait for Natalia's response, wanting to see if she pulls away or not. Nat is quiet for a second before you feel her arm tightening around your waist, her head turning to kiss your temple softly. "I love you too, Y/n." She whispers, closing her eyes as she leaves her lips there. "I'm sorry that we drifted apart." Nat mumbles against your skin and you place your hand on her knee, rubbing your thumb in a small circle. "I'm sorry too." You say, planes flying overhead. "I've never hated you, you know. I just didn't want to disappoint my parents." Nat says and you nod your head, looking up at her and smiling softly. "I know Nat. I know." You say, bringing your hand up and gently brushing your fingertips along her jawline. Natalia leans into the touch and looks down at you, watching the way you look at her with such care that she hasn't seen in a while.

Your fingertips move down and you run your thumb over Nat's bottom lip, glancing into her eyes one more time before leaning up. You kiss Natalia delicately as she kisses back, eyes fluttering closed as her free hand cups your jaw.

Are you kissing her because it's the end of the world, or are you kissing her because you've been in love with your best friend ever since you were five? Either way, you're kissing her and my god her lips are soft.

You both pull away gently as you look at each other, sadness and regret in both of your eyes. Besides you, the radio continues to. crackle out the news.

...nuclear warhead..five minutes..seek shelter immediately..

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart rate speeds up, panic filling your chest as Natalia simply reaches over and shuts the radio off. “Shh hey, it’s gonna be okay.” Nat whispers as she pulls you closer to her chest. “I don’t want to die Talia.” You whisper as you cling onto the redhead, head burying into her neck and arms wrapping around her torso. “Five more minutes.” Nat repeats the phrase on the radio and you nod your head, taking in her scent. “Five more minutes.” You echo her as she hugs you tighter, both of you knowing that there isn’t enough time to escape. You’ve spent your whole lives avoiding and hating each other, so why continue doing it now.

“I wish we had more time.” You whisper and she nods her head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Maybe in another life.” She whispers and you can only nod, sighing softly before leaning in to kiss her again.

And for those five minutes, Natalia just holds you, placing gentle kisses on your crown and repeating how much she loves you over and over again. “I’ll find you in the next life, and if not in that then in the next one after.” Nat promises and you nod your head, knowing your five minutes are about to be up. “I love you Talia.” You whisper as you close your eyes, holding onto her as tight as you possibly can. “I love you too, Y/n.” Nat whispers before resting her head on top of yours, closing her eyes as the warhead hits and a bright light surrounds the two of you.

----

"Car crash, 24 year old female, 35 year old male, falling in and out of consciousness." The radio dispatch lists off the information as the ambulance arrives at the scene, Natasha immediately jumping out of the back along with Steve. "I've got the girl, get the other car." Natasha orders and Steve nods his head, both paramedics heading separate ways. Natasha's eyes scan the scene as she sees a red car completely flipped upside down, running her way over there as she sees a bloody hand reaching out. "Please..help.." Nat hears a soft whimper as she drops down onto her knees, looking inside the car to try and assess the damage. Nat barely reacts as she sees you trapped by your seatbelt, trying to calm your breathing as blood pools on the roof of the car. "Hi my name is Natasha, I'm a paramedic and I'm here to help you." Nat introduces herself and you try and look at her, hands shaking as you grip at your cut. "Can you tell me what your name is darling?" She continues as she immediately gets to work, the car door already being ripped off in the crash. "I-I'm Y/n. Y/l/n..Y/f/n (your full name)." You say shakily, Natasha looking at your injuries. "Okay, Y/n. I'm gonna get you out of here, I just need you to keep on talking. Can you do that for me?" She asks and you nod your head, starting to talk about whatever comes to mind. "I- uhm I was born in (your home state or country), moved away from my mom and dad as soon as I could." You laugh softly at the statement before you wince, feeling Natasha put pressure on your wound. "Fuck." You hiss out and Nat whispers a soft "Sorry" before continuing. She shouldn't need to apologize, she was doing her job after all, but she had an odd desire to comfort you even when you were kinda bleeding out"It's okay.." You say before continuing, your vision focusing and unfocusing. "Uhm..I have a dog and my brother is gonna graduate in a few weeks. And I'm so fucking proud of him, I never told him how proud of him I was but I'm so fucking proud of him." You ramble and you don't notice Nat's eyes widen, seeing that if she moves you you'll bleed out within a minute. "An-And I've never found love, just fucking douchebags that I wasted my life on and now I'm gonna die without finding my person and I don't wanna die Nat..I don't wanna die." You choke out as you close your eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over already as a wave of deja vu washes over Natasha. "Hey okay look at me, look at me Y/n." Nat says as she gently cups your cheek, watching as your eyes slowly open. "Keep your eyes on me, okay? You've gotta stay conscious. You think you can do that for me?" She asks and you lean into her touch, mumbling something incomprehensible. "Can you repeat that for me, baby?" Nat asks and your head lolls down a bit, feeling lightheaded as Natasha tries to keep you awake. "Mmhm..should be easy..you're very pretty." You mumble out and Nat smiles softly, ready to get you out of the car. "Okay, my partner and I are going to move you but I want you to keep your eyes on me, don't look anywhere else." She says as Steve comes over to the two of you, already taking care of the male in the other car. "Severe lacerations to her torso and blunt force trauma to her temple. Seatbelt's keeping her in place." Nat gives Steve a brief rundown and he nods his head, lowering the stretcher onto the ground as Nat secures your neck in place. "Just to be safe." She says and you hum softly, their words muffled as they move in slow motion. "Okay we're going to move you on one..two..three.." Almost as if they were in synch, Steve and Nat get you out of the vehicle, Steve getting you secured onto the stretcher while Nat tries to keep you from bleeding out. "Start talking Y/n, I need to hear you talking." Natasha says as your blood soaks through the gauze, pooling under her gloved hands. Incomprehensible mumbles fall past your lips as you try and stay conscious, your entire body feeling numb to the pain. A soft whimper of discomfort is the last thing that you say before you fall quiet, Nat looking at you concerned. "Come on baby you

need to keep on talking." Natasha encourages you gently before nodding at Steve, both of them working quickly to get you into the ambulance. "Tell my parents that I love them..and tell my shithead of a boyfriend to go to hell." You manage to get out and Nat laughs softly, helping Steve lift the stretcher into the ambulance. "Who else do you want me to tell?" She asks once she hops into the back of the ambulance with you, Steve shutting the doors and telling the driver to step on it. "Tell my brother that I'm proud of him..and tell the other driver that I don't blame him.." You start to list as the lights start to get too bright, causing you to squint to try and look at Natasha. You swallow dryly as you can feel the life draining out of you, causing you to hold your hand up to the redheaded paramedic. "Nat, can you do something for me?" You ask weakly and she nods her head, Steve taking over putting pressure on your wound. "Yeah, what is it darling?" Nat asks softly as she changes out her gloves, swapping them for a new pair before leaning down to look at you. "Can you- Can you take my ring?" You ask and confusion floods her face, Nat looking down at the simple band on your pointer finger. "I dont-" She starts but you shake your head, wincing at the pain that it caused you. "Please..I- It might just be the blood loss talking but I feel like I've met you..probably in another life or something like that." You say and wait for her reaction, seeing her stare at you for a few beats. "I know, it's crazy but-" You start but she shakes her head, grabbing onto your hand and squeezing it lightly. "No I get it. You aren't crazy." She says softly and you smile meekly at that, slowly taking off your ring and putting it in her hand. "Then keep it." You whisper and she nods her head, looking at the ring in her gloved hand. "Okay." She says and you smile, finally feeling whole for once in your life despite all the blood you've lost. The fight finally leaves your body as your eyes close, your hand falling limp against the stretcher.

"Shit she's coding." Steve hisses out and Nat's head snaps upwards, shoving the ring into her pocket as she jumps into action. Steve immediately starts compressions as Nat works on your breathing, securing the mask on your face as she pumps the bag. Steve barks out orders over the radio as Nat stands by your head, eyebrows furrowed as she watches you.

"Come on Y/n stay with me, just five more minutes to the hospital." Nat says under her breath as the ambulance races through traffic.

"Hold on for five more minutes." She continues as Steve does his compressions, trying to manually restart your heart.

"Please..just five more minutes." Nat whispers under her breath as another PMD puts a defibrillator on your chest, trying to check for a shockable pulse.

After a trail of CPR, advanced airway, and cardiotonic drugs, Steve finally makes the call.

"Call it." He says to Natasha and she shakes her head, not giving up that hope that you could still be resuscitated. "She's gone." Steve states and Nat shakes her head once again, looking at your still form. "No Steve we can't-" "Tasha she's gone. You have to call it." He says sternly and it shuts Nat up, sighing as she looks at her watch. "Time of death, 9:52 pm." She says as the other PMD covers up your body with a sheet, only a few minutes later the ambulance pulling up into the hospital.

Nat sits in the back of the open ambulance as she watches the hospital staff go by, Steve coming to sit by her. "You alright?" He asks and Nat nods her head, blinking back tears as she looks at your ring. "Yeah..Yeah I'm fine." She says before closing her hand, turning her head to look at Steve. "But she was right, I really feel like I've met her before." Nat says and Steve nods his head, putting a reassuring hand on her back. "Maybe in another life."

----

"The drill is working smoothly sir." You report to the Capitan over the intercoms, the screens showing an all-clear in front of you. "Thank you, sailor." His voice crackles over the coms and you nod your head, pressing back the button to send a reply. "Of course, sir." You say before standing up straight, checking the pressure regulation and structural integrity one last time.

It's a must to make sure everything is working smoothly down here, after all, one mistake and the entire drill could be crushed seven miles below the surface of the ocean. "Hey, sailor." Natasha's arms wrap around your waist as she hugs you from behind, moving your ponytail aside to kiss the back of your neck. "Hi baby." You say as you lean back into her touch, eyes closing as you feel Nat's lips on your neck. "Capitan gave you the all-clear?" She asks and you nod your heads, humming at the warmth of your girlfriend's embrace.

It's lonely working on a research/drilling facility seven miles down and being isolated for months at a time, but with Natasha here, it makes things a tad bit easier.

You turn in her arms before cupping the sides of her neck, kissing the redhead softly. "Free for the rest of the day." You say and Nat smiles into the kiss, pulling you closer to her by your hips. When you both pull away, she brushes her lips over yours gently. "You wanna.?" Natasha's sentence trails off with a grin and you smile at her, your fingers hooking onto her dog tags and pulling her closer. "Mm..dirty Tasha." You laugh as you tease the kiss, kissing her softly only a few times. "I don't hear you complaining." Nat grins and you only roll your eyes, glancing at the clock before looking back at your girlfriend. "Then what are you waiting for?" You ask and Nat squeezes your waist, pulling back to grab your hand and lead you to the sleeping quarters.

You pull on your Navy-issued shirt as Nat laces up her boots, both of your faces flush from fucking for the past hour. "You messed up my hair." You say to Nat as you try and fix it in the mirror, seeing your slightly swollen lips and hickeys on your neck. "You wanted me to pull it." Nat shrugs and you purse your lips together, tugging your hair back into a semi-neat ponytail. "Yeah but not that hard." You mumble and Nat comes up behind you, both of you locking eyes in the mirror. "What did you say again? Oh Nat fuck me harder..mm tug my hair, oh!" Nat mimics your moans and you shove her lightly, trying to hide the smile on your face as you act mock offended. "I do not sound like that." You say and Natasha only smiles, fixing her belt and tucking her shirt into her pants. "Whatever you say, darling." She hums before kissing your cheek, pulling out your dog tags from under your shirt. You're about to pull her in for a proper kiss when the alarms suddenly go off in the base, a loud AI announcing the warning.

Warning sructural integrity compromised, immediate evacuation advised.

"Fuck." "Shit." Both of you curse under your breath as you swing the door to the barracks open, seeing the rest of the crew rush past you. "Come on we've got to get to the escape pods." Natasha says as she grabs onto your hand, running through the crowd as loud crunches and bangs echo throughout the drill.

"They're closing off this part of the drill!" Someone yells and it makes your heart race even faster in your chest, knowing as soon as someone closes that safety hatch you're all dead.

Nat and you push through people in the crowd, water starting to pool at your feet. It's only a matter of time before this section of the drill immediately collapses, making people literally trample over one another to try and get to safety.

"Come on, come on!" Clint calls as he stands by the safety hatch, watching the people behind you get sucked up in the pressure vacuum. "Close the door! Close it!" Steve yells at Clint as he watches the base collapse, you and Nat jumping over fallen debris and dodging electrical wires. "Go, just go!" Nat pushes you in front of her as you both sprint towards the hatch, Clint pressing the button to slowly close it. Your heart is racing a million miles per minute as you see the exit in sight, Natasha pushing you forward to get through first. There's barely enough space for you to fit through, grabbing Natasha's arm and pulling her in just in the nick of time.

The heavy metal door closes just in time, the rest of the drill getting torn out into the marina trench. Your chest is heaving as you hold on to Natasha, immediately scrambling up to check on your girlfriend. You cup her face as you watch her laugh up at you, hair soaked and face a bit cut but still alive. Your worry quickly changes into anger as you shove Nat in the arm, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't you ever do that again you fucking bastard!" You seethe, taking a few deep breathes before engulfing Natasha in a hug. "Fuck..I thought I'd lost you." You mumble as you feel Nat's arms wrap around you, not caring about Steve or Clint standing to the side. "What? I'm always going to put you first Y/n." Nat says softly before you pull back, now straddling Nat's lap. "Just don't do that self-sacrificing shit on me, okay? That was terrifying." You say and she nods her head, wiping away some of the wet hair that stuck to your face.

Clint clears his throat and you both look at him, you slowly getting up and helping Natasha up as well. "So, what do we do next?" He asks and everyone looks at each other, Steve speaking up first. "Let's find a way out of this death trap."

Clint paces as you all sit in the escape pod bay, you trying to get the only remaining one working.

"Are you done yet?" He asks for the third time in five minutes and you sigh, looking at him from over your shoulder with an annoyed glare.

"I'm a Navy engineer, not a wizard, stop rushing me." You say before turning back to the pod, trying to salvage what is left of the broken device.

When the four of you arrived at the escape pods, all of them have been deployed except one, you immediately jumping in and trying to fix it. It's been about ten minutes and your hope is dwindling by the second, finally dropping your makeshift tools and running a hand over your face. "Hey it's okay, we'll find another way out." Nat says softly as she crouches down next to you, rubbing your back in a small circles as she sees how distraught you are.

"Let's make our way over to the control base, see if we can make contact with the surface." Steve breaks the silence and you all turn to face him, everyone nodding their head as you and Tasha stand up.

You all meet up with Wanda, Tony, and Vison in the control base, all three of them having unsuccessful attempts to contact the surface. While the rest of the team is discussing the next plan of action, you're by the computer reviewing the readings on the ocean floor, finding the exact time when the drill collapsed. You know it wasn't your fault, you checked all the stats earlier and the base was perfectly fine, so what set it off? Eyes bouncing along the screen, you see that the ocean censors picked up a quake exactly fifteen seconds before the base started collapsing, an odd sensation filling your chest as you realize that no one could have prevented it.

"Y/n, did you hear us?" Steve asks and your head snaps towards the group, Nat looking over at you with a concerned look in her eyes. "Pardon?" You ask and Steve explains Tony's plan, saying that they could use the pressurized suits to try and walk to the next drilling facility to use the escape pods there. "But the nearest facility is more than few a miles from here, and besides, we have no clue what we'll find on the ocean's floor." You say and Tony nods his head, sighing as he sees the map.

These suits haven't gone more than a few yards from the base, specifically being made for drill repairs and short expeditions to fix the service towers.

"Well it's the only option that we have, other than that we can just stay here and wait for the drill to collapse ontop of us." Tony says and you contemplate it for a moment, glancing over at Nat before nodding. "Okay, what other choice do we have?'

You’re all suiting up when you see that Natasha’s helmet is sitting on one of the benches, the redhead herself slipping on her suit not too far away. Walking over to the helmet, you decide that there’s no harm in checking it out, reasoning that you should be more safe than sorry in a situation like this. Your heart almost stops when you see a small crack in the glass, knowing that once she goes underwater she’s as good as dead when the pressure hits. Taking a quick glance around you, you slowly exchange Nat’s helmet for yours, taking the damaged one in your hand and heading back to where you were suiting up. It’s better me than anyone else, especially Nat. You think to yourself as you move to put the rest of your suit on, Tony calling you for help before you could do so.

Once you arrive back at the bench, you’re relieved that the helmet is still there, knowing that yours is the damaged one. “Hey baby, you ready?” Tasha asks as she walks over to you, suit still bunched up around her waist. “Mm.” You hum as you step towards her, hugging her tightly and putting your face into her shoulder. Nat is a bit taken aback but she melts into your grasp anyways, wrapping her arms around your midsection and pulling you close.

“I love you Tasha.” You whisper softly as you close your eyes, knowing that you’ll be dead as soon as you hit the water. “I love you too Y/n.” Nat says before pulling back, looking into your eyes with a bit of concern. “Why are you acting this way darling? We’re gonna make it out of this together, I promise.” Natasha says and you only nod your head, giving her a bittersweet smile as you lean up and kiss her.

“I know...I just love you a lot Nat. Wanted to let you know that before we set off.” You hum and she nods her head, kissing your lips briefly before pulling you in for another hug. Her head is tucked into your shoulder and she rocks the two of you gently, kissing your temple once you both pull away. “Let’s get out of here.” She smiles and you nod your head, pulling the helmet on and securing it tightly.

Your breaths are shaky as Tony lowers all of you down into the water, preparing yourself for the pain you’re about to experience. Nat sees how tense you are and mistakes it for just plain old nerves, not knowing that you just gave yourself a death wish by swapping helmets with her. “It’s gonna be okay malysh.” Nat reassures you as she grabs your hand, you shooting her a smile as you make eye contact. “I know..I know..” You whisper under your breath, the water now over your heads as Tony lowers you deeper. “Get ready everyone, the pressure is going to hit hard.” Clint says and to the left of you, you see Steve’s helmet crack, your eyes widening as you spot it.

“Steve, what did you do?” You ask and he only looks at you, a gentle smile on his face as he sees you and Natasha. “Couldn’t let you leave her alone.” He smiles and you shake your head, frantically ordering Tony to not open the door. “Take care of her for me, okay kid?” Steve says and it’s too late, the door already opening and the pressure flooding in. “Steve no!” You yell as you see his helmet crack inwards, barley a second to register what happened before his suit implodes from the inside out.

“No Steve! No! Fuck!” You’re sobbing as everyone else processes what just happened, Tony frantically asking what just happened. “He switched our helmets! That idiot!” You say as Natasha just stands there in pure shock, Clint being the next one to speak up. “You knew your helmet was defective and you didn’t tell anyone?!” He questions and you shake your head. “I switched my helmet for Natasha’s! It was supposed to be me! Not Steve! He must’ve grabbed it when I got distracted, god damn it!” You’re angry, angry at Steve, angry at the helmet, angry at the earthquake, and most of all you’re angry at yourself. You should’ve noticed it. You should have made sure it was still the damaged one. “You should have just let me had it Y/n.” Nat says and you shake your head, glaring at your girlfriend.

“It’s better me than you Nat. You’re not dying, not if I can help it.” You say before everyone falls silent, everyone stunned at your outburst and Steve’s death. After a while Tony clears his throat and steps around you, looking into the depths of the mariana trench. “We’ll have time to mourn later, right now we need to make sure that we’ll live enough to.”

"Tony's dead..Wanda's dead, Vision..Steve..fuck they're all dead." Clint gasps out as he holds onto Natasha, the remaining three of you getting separated when a monster ambushed you. "Clint calm down, I need you to calm down." Nat says as she holds onto her best friend, darkness swirling around them. She forces herself to stay calm as she guides Clint through some deep breathes, refraining from asking about you until his pulse rate goes back down to normal.

You all saw their helmets crack and their blood muddle up the water, these monsters picking everyone off one by one. “Where’s Y/n?” Natasha asks once Clint can finally regulate his breathing, his grip loosening on her suit. “I..I don’t know. We got separated after that thing attacked us." He says and Nat is about to ask another question when she hears your static-y scream ring over the coms, her blood running cold as she sees your suit's lights frantically moving in the distance. "Haul ass Clint, come on." Nat doesn't waste any time as she tries to run through the water, dragging Clint along as she hears your screams through the coms. "Y/n! Y/n where are you?" Natasha calls out as your lights flicker off, head immediately turning 90 degrees when she sees your helmet lights come back on.

You're stabbing this merman-shark-eel hybrid in the face when Nat and Clint finally reach you, it's blood making the water murky as you kick it off. "Oh thank god you're alright." Nat breathes out once she sees you standing there, that relief only lasting for a moment as another thing latches onto both Clint and your legs. Its momentum is quick enough to knock both of you off your feet, unfortunately causing you to drop your knife in the process. Both you and Clint grit out curse words under your breath as you fight with the mysterious monster, Natasha loading up a flare gun to try and help. When she shoots the gun, it temporarily lights up the atmosphere around you, blood running cold as you see the monster that grabbed you.

Its teeth are sharp and dripping with blood, its slimy black claws slowly pulling you and Clint closer to its mouth. As it drags you along the ocean floor, you grab onto a jagged rock, quickly trying to swing at the arm. "Mother fucker." You curse as you hit the arm, it's sharp nails digging even more into your leg as a reflex. With all your might, you continue to swing at the hand, desperately wanting this to be over already. “Let. go. of. me.” You grunt out, watching the skin and muscle get hacked away. The monster screeches and pulls its arm back, now trying to drag in Clint double time since one of its meal got away. “Clint! Hold on!” You yell as you grab onto the man’s hand, trying to find any traction as you look at Clint. Nat is immediately behind you in an instant, grabbing onto your waist to hold the both of you back. Clint is screaming at this point, his leg getting torn by the nails clawing at his skin.

“Don’t let me go, please!” Clint says as you three get pulled closer to the monsters mouth, you desperately trying to tug him away. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Your teeth are clenched as you feel yourself starting to loose your grip, Nat’s boots slipping on the ocean floor. “Don’t let go.” Clint begs and you nod your head, leaning forward even more to try and keep hold. “We’re gonna get out of this, I promise..” You say but there’s no time for him to respond, the monster roughly pulling him out of your grip and dragging him into the depths of the deep blue sea.

The last thing you hear is Clint’s painful screams that come through the coms, Nat grabbing onto you to keep you from falling over the edge. The both of you are quiet as you stare into the unknown, heart pounding as you realize that you’re the only ones left. “Clint.” Natasha whispers softly and you hold onto her, both of you trying to process how quick that was. “I’m sorry Tasha. I’m so sorry.” You whisper and she swallows thickly, taking one last look into the darkness before making eye contact with you. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” She says before composing herself, straightening her posture and checking her compass. “Come on, we got set off course.” Nat grabs your hand before she turns, keeping her gaze straight ahead as she pulls you both away from the ledge.

“They didn’t train us for this in the Navy.” Nat mumbles as you both trudge along the ocean floor, about half of the way towards the other drill facility. “Yeah, sea monsters and flesh eating eels weren’t exactly on the handbook.” You say before checking your compass, making sure you’re still on course. “Nope.” Nat sighs and shakes her head, glancing over at you with a soft smile.

“Hey..I love you.” She blurts out and your chest floods with warmth, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at her. “I love you, Tasha.” You say and she smiles back, both of you stepping a bit closer to one another. “When we get to the surface, would you..hypothetically..marry me?” Natasha asks and you raise an eyebrow, finding it amusing how Nat trying to play it cool.

“You know..because I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. No scratch that, I couldn’t live in a world without you in it. You’re my soulmate..my person y/n, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you..hypothetically of course.” Nat finishes with an awkward laugh and you can only grin, reaching out to hold her hand gently. “Hypothetically..” You start and she laughs breathily. “If you asked me to marry you, I would say yes.” You say and she nods her head, a smile present in your words.

“Do you wanna ask?” You question and she shakes her head, making a little pff sound. “No I don’t want to ask.” She says and you nod your head, looking down at the map. “We’re almost there, just a few more miles-” “Will you marry me?” Nat breathes out in a rush and you laugh, looking back at the redhead who has a nervous smile on her face. “Mm yes.” You grin and Nat’s face lights up. “Yes?” She repeats, voice a bit high as she stares at you. “Yes you idiot.” You giggle as you tug her closer, squeezing her hand gently. “You better hug me when we get out of these suits.” You tease and she nods her head, looking at you with love in her eyes. “I’m gonna do you one better, I’m gonna marry you.”

Your breathing is shaky as you slightly lag behind Natasha, the air in your suit getting harder to breathe for the last few yards. “Are you okay darling?” Nat asks as she turns to look at you, you nodding your head as you wave a hand infront of your face. “I’m okay, just tired.” You say with a tired smile, Natasha nodding her head as she grabs your arm. “Come on you turtle, we’re almost there.” She teases and you can only laugh softly, continuing onward.

You’re struggling to take in breaths when a robotic voice rings through your ears, a small warning flashing in the corner of your helmet.

Caution, five minutes of air remaining. Oxygen pod damaged.

Fuck. You knew your luck would run out eventually, especially when you’re this close to escaping. “We’re only a few hundred yards from the facility, shouldn’t be too long before you get that hug.” Natasha smiles and you don’t respond, instead letting go of her arm and letting yourself fall behind a bit. “Y/n?” Nat asks as she faces you, seeing you stand there with a small smile on your face.

“Keep on going Nat, I’m right behind you.” You say softly, not wanting to worry your girlfriend as she’s so close to escaping. “No come on you dummy, let’s go.” She says but you shake your head, seeing the clock count down on the corner of the helmet. “I’m right behind you love.” You whisper, willing your voice not to break as Nat’s brows furrow. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asks and her eyes widen once she sees it, the little screen on your arm flashing an oxygen warning. “You’ve gotta go Tasha.” You say and she shakes her head, gently holding your shoulders as her mind starts to race.

“What happened?” She asks and you point to the pack on your back. “The oxygen pod got damaged back when the monster dragged Clint and I across the floor, guess I didn’t notice it until now.” You say and Nat swallows thickly, checking her map before looking back at you. “If we’re quick enough we can make it, we just need to move-” She starts to say but you stop her gently, holding onto her biceps. “I’m not gonna make it, you know that Nat.” You whisper but she shakes her head holding onto you tighter. “No. No, you have to make it Y/n. Please.” She shakily says and you put your hands on the side of her helmet, holding the glass gently.

“We don’t have enough time Tasha.” You whisper and tears are forming in her eyes, the redhead trying to blink them away as she looks at you. “Please..you have to make it..” She begs, voice small as she sees the timer count down. “I need you to make it, I can’t do this without you..” Nat whispers and you only wish you could hug her one last time. “You don’t need me Tasha. But you’ve got to get going, you need to get to the survive for both of us.” You say and Natasha shakes her head, tears now fully falling. “I’m not just going to leave you here.” She says as her hands shake, trying to think of a way to get you to survive. “You have to.” You whisper before Nat pulls you in for a hug, the suits not stopping her from showing how much she loves you. “I love you Y/n.” She whispers and you hold her closer, closing your eyes as you hear the timer count down.

“I love you, Tasha.” You say softly, Nat holding you there for a few more moments before pulling away. “Keep my dog tags love, so I’ll always be with you.” She says as she pulls back from you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you look up at the redhead. “What?” You question right before the ai voice rings out once again, the warning light suddenly clicking off.

Oxygen pod fixed, air supply replenished.

“Natasha.” You whisper out her name as you see your old oxygen pod drop to the sea floor, realizing that Nat just switched out the rest of her oxygen into your suit. With no pod in her suit, Natasha’s oxygen levels immediately drop, warning signs flashing bright red in her helmet. “I’m sorry darling.” Nat says as she looks at you, starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of air. “No..no no no no no.” You breathe out as Nat collapses into your arms, quickly moving her so she’s leaning onto your body. “Okay..okay come on. We can do this.” You mumble to yourself as you start to trudge your way towards the drilling facility. If there's one thing that they taught you in the Navy, that's to never give up, even when you're within an inch of your life you never stop fighting.

Once the murky lights of the drilling facility finally come into view, you almost jump for joy, Nat's head hung low as you drag her along. Your body aches and you think your leg might be broken, but that doesn't stop the relief coursing through your veins, opening the door and stumbling into the pressurized walkway. The entrance closes behind you before the water gets drained from the room, your legs collapsing from the lack of support the ocean gave you.

You gently place Nat on the ground before collapsing onto your knees, taking off your helmet and gasping down the fresh air. You cough a bit as you try and regain your breath, unzipping your suit so it bunches at your waist. Your coughs soon turn into laughs as you realize you've made it, quickly turning to Natasha to celebrate. "Nat, we did it. Holy shit..we fucking did it." You smile as you gently shake her shoulder, expecting her to take off her helmet by now.

"Nat..? Nat darling..we did it." You say softly, your smile fading as you take Nat's helmet off. "Oh my god, no." Your heart stops as you see Nat's pale cheeks and blue-tinted lips, shaky hands cupping her face as you ask the AI for her vitals.

No vitals found.

"Tasha..No please." You say before quickly moving to unzip her suit, fingertips touching her ice-cold skin. You start chest compressions as you desperately try to revive your love, the tears building up more and more with each round. "You made a promise, Nat." Your teeth are clenched as you finish another set of 30 compressions, bending down to give your fiancee two rescue breaths. "You said we're going to get out of this together. You promised me." You're barely keeping it together as you start another round, hot tears threatening to spill.

"You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, well you can't do that if you leave me." Your chest is heaving as your compressions get sloppy. "So god damn it please Nat. Please. Please don't leave me." A sob rips from your throat as your movements finally falter, your arms collapsing from underneath you. Your entire body is wracked with sobs as you cling onto Natasha's shirt, crying into her chest as you hold her lifeless body.

You beg for Nat to come back like a broken record, chest heaving as you finally let all of your emotions breakthrough. You scream and you cry until your throat is raw, guilt gripping at your chest as you think all of your fallen crew members.

Your head rests on Natasha's stomach until your heart-wrenching sobs mellow down into silent cries, this small emotional break letting you spot something sticking out from your fiancee's helmet.

Sniffling a bit as you sit up, you take Nat's helmets into your hands, gingerly pulling out a piece of paper wedged into one of the corners. With shaky fingers, you hold it up into the light, breath catching in your throat when you see it. It's a picture of you and Nat after running one of the Navy obstacle courses, a wide smile on both of your faces as your working uniforms are caked in mud. A quivering smile tugs on your lips before you sob again, placing your head in your hands as your shoulders shake.

You’re still a mess as you fully get out of your suit, hands shaking with exhaustion as you put a makeshift splint on your leg. You easily find the escape pods and sigh in relief when you see that they’re all working, entering the commands to get to the surface.

As you stand in front of the pod, you decide to bring Natasha with you, refusing to leave the love of your life at the bottom of the ocean. The tears come rushing again as you pull Nat into the escape pod with you, pressing the button to close the hatch and to finally get the two of you out of here. “I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” You whisper as your arms tighten around Nat’s torso, slipping her dog tags over your head before you kiss her temple. Your eyes are screwed shut the entire time you travel to the surface, sniffling softly as hot tears silently run down your cheeks.

When you break the surface, you aren’t excited or relieved, you just feel numb, the cold air hitting your face once you open the pod. It’s like everything around you is shaded grey, your eyes dull and dead as the paramedics reach you. The entire time you’re looking at Natasha, seeing the first responders check for her pulse. As they pull your stretchers away from each other, there’s only one question on your mind: what’s the point of living in this world if Natasha isn’t in it?

————

The sunlight softly illuminates the Avengers compound in the early hours of the morning, two bodies warmly pressed up against each other under the protection of a fluffy duvet.

A phone alarm goes off but it doesn’t break the peaceful atmosphere in the bedroom, one of the bed’s occupants slowly turning over to shut off the device.

“Y/n, baby, wake up my love.” Natasha hums as she kisses you, her soft pink lips planting a few gentle kisses on your neck and cheek. Your only response is a hum as you turn in Natasha’s arms and bury your face into her neck, wrapping your arms around her torso and pulling yourself closer. “Come on darling.” Nat laughs as she runs her hand through your hair, voice a bit rough from just waking up. “Too early.” You mumble and Nat sighs, a sleepy smile still on her face as she holds you. “Steve will kill us if we’re late to training.” She says but you shake your head, gently kissing the warm skin of her neck.

“You’re the Black Widow, you could kick his ass ten times over if you wanted to.” You reason and Nat nods her head. “You do have a point malysh.” She says and you hum. “Five more minutes.” You mumble and Nat nods her head, wrapping her arms around you before pulling you closer. “Okay, five more minutes.” She whispers before kissing your cheek, her fingers running up and down your spine.

#natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel mcu #mcu natasha romanoff #mcu #au

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