#many fics planned

[katastrophic-n3vulaa]

A collection of my Jason Todd headcanons/AUs

if you're here from a fic, all headcanons/aus/special power shit is in here.

if youre here for any other reason, you know what you're getting into.

That being said, warning for death and rape mentions

Here is a reminder that i have not touched canon, just been told that characterisation is bullshit, and i have attached myself via hyperfixation to jason todd.

When a headcanon is referred to being in all AUs, it means it fits in all of them. Not that they’ll be relevant, or that they have even happened yet.

This is present in all AUs. Jason was trafficked and raped when he was younger. This ties into the Siren AU, and Jason is really good at comforting victims. Mainly through music or song.

This can be adapted into any AU: for the genderbent version of Jason, her name could be Medea or Medéa. From the Greek Μήδεια Mēdeia, possibly meaning someone who is pondering or cunning. It is also the name of a sorceress in Greek mythology that took nobody’s shit.

This is present in all AUs. Fibromyalgia is a disorder characterized by widespread musculoskeletal pain accompanied by fatigue, sleep, memory and mood issues. Jason has chronic pain because he died, or if in Titans, because Trauma™. Sometimes it’s manageable, sometimes its crippling.

This is present in all AUs. When Jason was dead, he was in limbo. With him, was Death the Endless. She was actually very nice, and gave him the ankh, which shrinks down into a small but intricate tattoo on his left forearm, which allows him to shape his soul into anything, and when he does, the tattoo grows, spiralling out. Similar to the all-blades but far more versatile. He has hours until he needs to stop using it to stay alive. Death also talked with him and became an almost aunt or grandmother-like figure, which is true, considering her child is Gotham, and Gotham’s child is Jason.

There was a lady. With wild black hair, reaching her hand out, smiling at him. And a lot of red. And it was so quiet , oppressively quiet, the kind that traps you and drowns you and eats you from the inside out. Moonlight shines through the warehouse window. It reflects off the container, and his eyes glow green. (link)

This is present in all AUs. Gotham is sentient, and is the daughter of Death the Endless, and is Jason’s mother (technically). Jason is intertwined with Gotham, and the shadows show that. Jason has claimed the people of Crime Alley as his, so Gotham helps hide them: they can manipulate the shadows, disappear, and resist death, though not to the extent Jason can.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Eldritch Gotham Shadow AU’, Jason is more eldritch than others. He manipulates the shadows and has a much larger well of power. He is the grandchild of Death the Endless, and here, both Gotham and him actually show the fact that they are eldritch cosmic entities, bound by breaking string into the husk of a city and a man respectively. However, the power is hard to control and is inaccessible most of the time. Major impacts are weird shapes in peripheral vision etc.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Reflection AU’, the damage done to Gotham is reflected onto Jason. If there is a bomb, Jason will have a burn the same percentage of his body that the bomb destroyed of Gotham. When Gotham is heavily damaged, Jason is also extremely injured, but he can delay injuries reflecting onto him with the use of some runes. In some AUs, the reflection isn’t 1:1, and it doesn’t hurt Jason as much, but he is still injured. Being a mirror also grants him the ability to know almost everything happening in Gotham always.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Shifting Inks AU’, Jason, when he was with the All-Caste or when he was dimension walking with magicks, he was tattooed with magic ink. The ink can change forms, but no matter what form the ink takes, it is vibrant and strong. Sometimes the ink takes the form of runes hidden inside art, or hints from Destiny and/or Dream the Endless.

This is present in all AUs. The people of Crime Alley call Jason’s gang the ‘Merry Men,’ after the group that Robin Hood led. This catches on, and now they’re unofficially called the Merry Men. To refer to multiple of them, they’re called Merries, and to refer to one, they’re called a Merry. They are all very close, and mostly consider each other family.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Lazarus Pit Regeneration AU’, coming out of the Lazarus Pit would only heal injuries that are open(not scars, nor malnutrition)/ incapacitates them (makes movement impossible or extremely hard) so Jason is shorter, (maybe 5’5” maybe 5’6”, 5’7” at most - to the 5’4” he was at 15 and the 6’0” he was at 21), and has the build of a gymnast: compact muscle and packs a punch.

This build was inspired by my sister, who is only 5’4” but is an international medalist and can deadlift about three me’s at once. Also, I hate the fact that DC didn’t really have major diversity early, because, come on, be a little creative. Canon Jason is just Bruce but shorter and a little wider.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Soul and Ghosts Sight AU’, Jason can always see ghosts and help them find peace and move on if they want to. He can also see people’s souls, and when he was young, he judged on instinct how safe they were. When he’s young, he’s brutally honest about what he sees and knows, which surprises a lot of people, but he can also get high off of positive emotions because he wasn’t exposed to them often when he was young. The soul reading (as he gets older) changes into seeing the presence of Death the Endless around someone, which – based on the shade - tells him how many people they’ve killed, how many people they know have died, how many people have died as a result of something they’ve done (not purposefully trying to kill), what deaths they blame themselves for, how close they are to dying, and their magic if they have any.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Fire in His Veins AU’, Jason has fire in his veins. It makes him a heat pack. The Bats don’t know this, and when he gets really pissed off, it leaks out of his skin. Jason is involved in the magical community of Gotham. His ‘base power’ is the fire-lava veins thing, but it can be adapted into runes and constructs and shit. Anyways, he helps the magical community, and they all love him.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Nonna Force AU’, the grandmothers, the aunties, the mothers, band together to make Crime Alley healthy. Heavily ties in with the Merry Men being family. All Nonnas are magical, all-powerful, omnipotent beings, and they are never called by their names, only variations of their title.

In any AU marked at the bottom with ‘Siren AU’, Jason has magic channelled through his voice, and he doesn’t sing a lot at all because of it. When he’s comfortable, he will, and some songs with memories attached/plot devices use golden magic to make constructs. He can also hear the songs of people’s souls, as well as those associated with memories. The Siren’s Blessing is something that was passed through Catherine’s maternal line, and when extremely desperate, those with the Blessing can call upon the Oceans, and this summons a few very pissed off Sirens. Because of the connection, Jason is friends with some Atlanteans, and he can also swim fast, breathe underwater, and heal quicker.

He loved singing as a kid, and Crime Alley knew Jason and Jeslyn as the Songbirds- not vigilantes, but if you get a good song, you get lucky. He learnt that singing could also get him in trouble and found out, so he only ever did it with Jeslyn or in private. They can also hear each other sing whenever they are singing, and when they sing the same song and aren’t near each other, golden constructs of them appear with each other, and when another person is sung to that also was Blessed/had a magical anchor, they could also project to them (as well as the Blessed who died, like Catherine), and any person who they have sung to. The Blessing is not designed to be hostile, but, because they have magic, they can cast spells and draw runes, even though it is hard to wield as an offensive power. However, when saying a vow (threatening, promising, being intimidating) their voice layers with others that stand by the vow as well.

In all AUs, Jason also has siblings, the oldest being Antonio, who was 10 years older than him and very dead, having been pulled into gangs by Willis. His closer siblings consist of Jasmine, a sister 4 years older, and then Jeslyn, his fraternal twin who is older than him by a few minutes. Jason is the tiny one of the family, as Jasmine is built a little like Willis and Jes is tall and willowy. Jes also has the Siren’s gift. But when they first got it, they were stuck in amber for like 2 years, and so Jes and Jay are 2 years younger than their birth certificates. In some AUs, Jay’s siblings are dead.

---

ok

if i use these to write oneshots, the AU/s in them will be mentioned at the bottom!

if you wanna use one of my headcanons, please credit me and tell me bc i wanna read it.

[tomurakii]

I like bloodweave. Okay. But I DON'T like the version of them in fanfic where Astarion is a dick and Gale is like. Whining and pleading for him to be emotionally vulnerable (or just. Nice to him) prior to the relationship being established. Because that is just not accurate. Gale needs the player to express interest in him during his weave-teaching scene before he even considers hitting on them properly. Gale is entirely resigned to his fate and needs someone else to pull him away from it. Gale only starts being sweet and romantic and devoted after you accept his love confession and give him hope for the future. Gale says fuck all and then slinks away to cry privately if you break up with him.

Like he isn't chasing after people lmao. He isn't dropping to his knees and crying about anything much less this dickhead he met a week ago. He is overwhelmingly passive about literally everything personal to him up to and including his own death (provided there are no casualties/there is a good reason) until after the player expresses that they care about him. Astarion is not doing that in any of these fics.

Like Gale is friendly and a dork and doesn't wanna get murdered but he fully has a suicide plan. He thought the artefacts would help him survive but he didn't believe he'd ever truly live again. If Gale confessed and Astarion said/did like one (1) mean thing afterward Gale's romance is closed off forever. He's wandering into the forest to cry. He's killing himself immediately. His fragile ego and self worth can't take it. You have to understand that when we joke about him being pathetic it's not bc he's like. Sopping wet and chasing people down and begging for a scrap of attention. It's because he craves affection but would literally rather die than ask or even hope for it until someone else forces that hope back into his serotonin-deficient tadpole brain.

[doodlesforfics]

Robin's Egg by Calix aka @arzuera​ is just, such gloriously fun fic to read. I literally want to draw so many scenes from it, like sadlkjfaskd  its just!! so cute!!! aaaaa ;33333

also a lil doodle for locket because my mind is so stuck on it and figuring it out, i mean its just ;) so thoughtful of timbo

[leclerity]

you kiss him first

Charles Leclerc x Former Childhood Friend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you talk about the reasons why you haven't seen each other in ten years... and there may have been some miscommunications all this time. a/n: another angsty one, with another happy ending, as always - thank you for all the support on the fics so far!

The Monaco air is crisp as you step out of the door, leaving the laughter of your parents and family friends behind. You note you forgot how warm Monaco can be, even in the evenings, and Charles Leclerc laughs, reminding you that you’ve been away for too long.

Certainly long enough for childhood friends to become distant acquaintances, at best.

“It’s weird to think we used to play around these streets,” you say. “We were so stupid. It was dangerous!”

“Well, we were kids.” Charles shrugs. “We thought we knew best.”

He leads you away from his parents’—now mother’s—house and after a moment, you recognise the route as your old path up the hills, to the best vantage points the city could offer. You climb with the expertise of someone whose feet have wandered up the trails a million times before, even if it’s been a decade since the last time.

“I always thought we might get hit by a car someday, but I didn’t care,” you say. “And look at you now, driving cars for a living.”

“Means I get hit by more often than an average person. So, you were right.”

“Right. Just like always.”

“Yeah. You were always right, you know.”

Something about the way he says it, looking at the hill beneath his feet instead of you, sends shivers down your spine.

The further outside the city you go, the quieter it gets. Dozens of memories fly past your eyes, all of the same hike, with the same person by your side, only a child, a teenager.

“What was I right about?”

Charles doesn’t look at you, nor does he answer. You keep hiking in silence and you find yourself getting antsy, fidgeting with a loose string hanging off your t-shirt.

When you get to the top, it’s peaceful. It always has been. You see the whole city from here, all of the lights shining brighter as the sun sets in the distance, and you can’t help but wonder – what went wrong?

So you ask.

He laughs, but it’s nervous. When you look at him, his white shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and the khaki shorts look too expensive against the dirty ground. He’s still got the same pretty face, the dimples in his smile, but he’s a far cry from the boy you grew up with.

“I don’t see the point in talking about it now,” he says.

“If not now, when? It’s been ten years already.”

“Never,” he says. “If I can choose.”

You turn to face him, the sights of Monaco be damned. “Why? We were good, Charles. I was supporting you with your karting, you were supporting me with all the hobbies I ever did…”

“We were good,” he agrees, but it’s almost sad. As if there’s no way back. As if whatever happened, it’s irreversible.

“No, you don’t get to just up and decide you’re never going to speak to your best friend again. You just… You don’t get to do that!”

“You’re right,” he says, nodding. “You’re right.”

“So what’s the issue?! I mean, I thought you were going to be by my side at the altar someday!”

Charles shakes his head, chuckling again, but you can see the watery reflection in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you, and for a moment you wonder what was it that you said that was enough to make him cry, and…

“That was the issue,” Charles says, softly. “I’d be by your side.”

You feel yourself frown. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“No. It’s not.” He looks at you and you finally see the tears, the redness of his cheeks, and the emotion he’d been restraining for who knows how long. “I didn’t want to be by your side.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N—”

“No. It’s okay. I get it.”

You move a little further from him, pretending your heart hadn’t just been stabbed, but he scoots right back next to you.

“Y/N, let me finish.” When you don’t say anything, he adds, “I wanted to stand opposite of you. That was the issue.”

“Opposite of—oh.”

The past rewrites itself in your head, all those little moments that ever confused you suddenly being crystal clear. You see all the hints you missed or saw and ignored – the refusals to talk about your crushes, the distancing that began when you got into your first relationship, even though it lasted not even two weeks…

And the absence of contact when your family moved away.

“Charles,” you say. “What are you—I don’t understand—”

“You didn’t see me the way I saw you,” he says, “and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

And—in a moment of unprecedented courage—you look him straight in the eyes. “Who says I didn’t?”

A look flashes over your face that tells you he’s experiencing a rewriting of the same kind you experienced moments ago. The moments when you held his hand for a little too long as a kid, when you cheered him on the track even when you were supposed to be on a date, when you listened to him vent about his brothers. You know these moments – and you hope that now, he can see them for what they were, too.

You put a hand on his cheek. He leans into it immediately, as if coming home.

“You know,” you whisper, “I don’t think there’s a moment of my life I didn’t love you. Even the past ten years… All I could do was miss you.”

“Me, too,” he says. “I hated myself for staying away, but I had to. I thought I had to.”

“If you just asked…”

He laughs, again, and it’s nervous all the same – but his hand is on your knee and he’s leaning in, and the air between you is charged. “Asked what? ‘Hey, Y/N, how’s your day? Also, do you happen to be in love with me, too?’ Is that what I should’ve asked?”

“Yes. And I would’ve said yes.”

He sighs; his eyes drop to your lips. “You’re telling me I wasted ten years because I was afraid?”

“Both of us were.”

“So, now…”

You become acutely aware of the distance between the two of you – all it would take is to lean in, ever so slightly, and the friendship barrier would be crossed. As if it hadn’t been crossed all those years ago, before you even knew what love or friendship were.

You smile. “Now you kiss me.”

“Tempting,” he says. “There’s one problem, though.”

“There is?”

Charles’s smile mirrors yours, wide and delighted. “I’m afraid if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” you say, and you kiss him first.

[tarteggs]

vash and wolfwood argue about ghosts, and absolutely nothing else.

a comic i made for the fic lots of people, lots of sides have been taken by procrastinatingbookworm on ao3! i really enjoyed reading it and liked the imagery a lot, so i thought it would be fun to draw something based on it!! ^^

[strangersteddierthings]

ooo can i suggest prompt six? "Did you lie to me?" hehe

Thanks for sending a prompt, Nonny! It's my daily ficlet for today!

Daily Ficlet 6

Steve's never been a secret before. He's too likeable (or hateable) for that. He's never had to hide a relationship before because what girl wouldn't want to be with him? All his friendships are well known, or were, back when he was in high school. There weren't even secret rivalries!

So, it's an adjustment, keeping this thing with Eddie a secret. But he's trying. Even though all he wants to do is hold his hand every hour of every day he refrains because. Because?

Well, he's not really full on those details. He knows it's partially because Eddie isn't out to anyone in the group except Steve. He's not even out to Robin, and Steve thought for sure they'd figure each other out and bond over it but that hasn't happened yet. Eddie's also said something about keeping it to themselves so they can just be themselves, together, without other people. When Eddie had whispered that it had sounded so sweet and romantic. But that was, like, two months ago and it's.... it's still romantic, but Steve wants to ramble about how beautiful Eddie is to Robin.

Also! This secret keeping is causing Robin to worry! He can't keep secrets from Robin, he never has. He told Robin he thought he might like guys exactly 0.4 seconds after he'd realized it! In fact, he's so bad at secret keeping that he's told her he has a boyfriend. Won't say who, and Robin won't push. All he had to say was his boyfriend wasn't ready to come out and that was that.

He's out to the Party, too. Mostly as an accidental outing he didn't back down from even when Will offered him an out with his quick thinking. Jonathan knows, too. That was an on-purpose telling after Will came out to Steve when they were finally alone, and Steve learned Jonathan knew about Will.

Anyway. Steve's never been a secret before. He doesn't want to continue being one. He just wants Eddie's permission to tell Robin. He'll be fine with waiting even if Eddie says he's not ready for Robin to know, of course, but he just. He wants Robin to know who the amazing person he rants about is.

So, imagine his surprise when, halfway down the stairs to the basement at Eddie and Wayne's new house to talk to Eddie about telling Robin, he hears his name.

"-because it's Steve Harrington, y'know?" Gareth's voice floats up the stairs to Steve and he freezes. Is Gareth a goddman psychic!? How did he know Steve was here?

"That's your reasoning? Because it's Steve?" Eddie asks, and oh. They don't know he's here. They're talking about him. Steve should make himself known. He shouldn't just stand here and listen. But. Well, if Eddie's finally telling his friends about them, he kinda wants to hear it. Want to hear Eddie spill the secret so they can quit being so secretive.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who's always saying people don't change. Did you lie to me? To us? Has Steve changed?" That's Jeff's voice, and his questions make Steve gut twist. But Eddie's not Nancy. He's not- they aren't bullshit. Eddie knows that. He'll defend Steve. He'll tell them the truth. There's silence, though. Eddie doesn't defend him.

"What's with the silence?" Frankie asks, when Eddie's been quiet too long. Funny, Steve wanted to ask the same thing.

"I'm trying to not snap at you all," Eddie says, and he sounds angry. "I get that you guys might still be hesitant or whatever, but you don't get to come here and throw accusations when you haven't even tried to be friends with him! This is why I don't invite him to come hang out with us! 'Cause you can be a bunch of dicks sometimes!"

Steve feels a warmth bloom inside him. He knew Eddie would defend him, he did. It's just hard to believe sometimes, and he's not going to make that Eddie's problem. But hearing it. Hearing that Eddie does defend him even when he doesn't know Steve's around to hear it. Fuck, it makes him want to kiss Eddie so bad.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Jeff says, "you're right. We are being dicks, and pretty standoffish with Steve. We aren't giving him a fair chance."

"You're not!" Eddie agrees aggressively. "Even if he wasn't my b- my friend, he's still the reason I'm even fucking alive. So, respect that at least."

Steve stands at the midpoint of the stairs until the conversation turns to a different topic before he tiptoes back to the top of the steps to turn around and thunder down the stairs loudly, giving everyone in the basement a warning to his arrival.

He'll tell a lie, that he was driving around because he was bored and thought to stop and see what Eddie was up to, and get invited to stay and hang out. Eddie's friends are more open with him than they usually are and Steve doesn't waste the opportunity to try and really engage with them, get to know them.

He can be a secret just a little longer, he supposes, when he looks away from Jeff and catches Eddie staring at him with the same adoration he sees on Eddie's face when they're alone. And judging by the almost slip up earlier, Eddie might be getting closer to not being a secret, too.

[kingofanemptyworld]

hey you know what would be fun? a fic where the Royal Guard follows through with their plans to make Ichigo the new Soul King and Grimmjow promptly loses his shit because what the actual fuck Ichigo has already given these people literally everything, twice, and this is how they repay him? recruits Nel and Harribel and Urahara and Yoruichi (after Nel sits on him for a while because Jesus Christ Grimmjow you can’t storm Soul Society by yourself no matter how much you’ve powered up) and it’s the Ryoka Invasion all over again except with pissed off arrancar instead. I just think it would be neat

[myokk]

Eloise and Lorra🥹🥹

@lorrainmorgan

[uss-genderprise]

blorbo became infinitely blorboier

[edda-grenade]

sketches for illustrations for a matter of love

aka the moment where solas drops an even worse bombshell on saar than he does in canon trespasser

[plutolovesyou]

loser!ellie who's so drunk on your smell and taste she cums untouched just from eating you out ♡

[kjwaikiki]

HOTD fic idea:

The whole Rhaesaria thing definitely took me by surprise but I very much like the idea of them. My fic idea is that Rhaenyra and Mysaria got together much earlier in the series. In fact she was there for each of the boy’s births and loves them as if they were her own children.

I just want Mysaria to be right there with Rhaenyra all throughout her time in King’s Landing. I want Mysaria to give Rhaenyra the support that none of the men in her life could due to absence, grief, or the malicious rumors swirling around.

I want Mysaria comforting Jacaerys when he hears the rumors about him and his siblings being bastards. I want Mysaria planning the downfall of Crispy after the seeing how he trains the boys, HER boys. I want Mysaria to threaten Alicent after she made Rhaenyra walk to her chambers after giving birth (maybe she threatened Daeron and that is why Alicent sent him to Oldtown. Maybe she killed him and that is why we never see him).

I want Mysaria to love Rhaenyra so much and I want that love to be returned. Rhaenyra May love Harwin and Daemon and even Laenor (as a cherished friend), but none of those men have ever been able to support and defend her the way she needs. I want Mysaria to be the one who holds Rhaenyra and tells her what she needs to hear, whether that is that everything will be alright or that she needs to be a dragon and protect the children.

Rhaenyra may still marry Daemon but I want Mysaria to still very much be a part of that relationship even if it is just Rhaenyra refusing to let Mysaria go and her and Daemon very begrudgingly getting along for the sake of the children and Rhaenyra.

I just want Rhaenyra and Mysaria to live their best life with their hoard of kids as they subtly scheme and plot against the Greens. I want all the love, all the devotions, and I want to see the unhinged lengths they will go for each other and their kids.

[djarinova]

sfw alphabet

levi ackerman x gn!reader

content - slightly modern au for a couple of the questions, brief mentions of his canon upbringing (not explored) words - 4k

A—‘A’ IS FOR AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?)

At the beginning of your relationship, or any moment before your relationship has started, Levi is not affectionate at all. He tends to keep his distance, only ever offering you a helping hand, or in very rare instances a gentle tap on your shoulder. But once the two of you start dating things are a little different. He keeps most of his affection behind closed doors, always wanting to keep those moments solely between the two of you. But he is definitely more affectionate than people will expect, he loves to hold you in his arms when the two of you are cuddling. Tracing his fingers across your skin is one of his favourite ways to touch you, he loves it because it's so easy for him to do while the two of you are sitting together, he does it so absentmindedly that sometimes he doesn't even realise. And it's the cutest thing ever.

B—‘B’ IS FOR BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestie?)

He's a very good friend, he's trustworthy and kind to those he values, but it's hard to get past his tough exterior and into his inner circle as he's very selective on those he befriends, and even those people he likes have a hard time getting to know him at first. It will take a long time for him to open up to you, even if you've known him and been friends for a while, but once you've gained his trust and respect you’ll find that his friendship will become one of the most sturdy and reliable you've ever had.

C—‘C’ IS FOR CUDDLES (how do they like to cuddle?)

He loves to both be held by you, and hold you. There's something about having you locked between his arms that grants him a sense of peace that he cannot get anywhere else. He loves being able to have his arms gripping your body. And even better when you bury your head in his chest, he loves knowing that you can feel his heart beating, and that you're feeling the warmth from his body. When you lock your legs between his, and wrap your arms around his torso it makes him feel like the safest, luckiest man in the world.

D—‘D’ IS FOR DOMESTIC (settling down? how will they be helping out around?)

He never thought he'd get close to settling down with anyone, he never had marriage or relationships on his mind, and he was perfectly content with that. But when he met you, and got to know you, his views began to change. He started to realise that he needed to be with you, for as long as he could manage. He's very good at small, domestic things. He loves helping you cook, even if his preferred meals are on the easy and simple side, and he's very good at keeping things clean and tidy.

E—‘E’ IS FOR ENDING (how would breakups work out?)

I can see this going one of two ways to be honest. It's either going to be a quick, slightly silly breakup—the two of you have a disagreement, and Levi gets scared or worried about the confrontation, choosing to leave instead of sitting and talking it out with you (this is one of those breakups that doesn't last long, you find him after a few hours and force him to talk to you. You know he still loves you, but he hasn't got a lot of experience with the tougher parts of a relationship, and he has a very avoidant personality.) Or, on the sadder side, the two of you will have a really long, drawn out breakup. One of those breakups where you slowly drift apart, refusing to acknowledge the issues you need to work on, just snapping at each other or straight up ignoring each other to the point where you're barely talking for days at a time. 

F—‘F’ IS FOR FIANCÉE (how do they feel about commitment?)

Levi isn't afraid of commitment, I think that once he's in a relationship with you he finds the idea of marriage/a life with you incredibly appealing, and it’s something that he will strive for. He probably won't be open about this, especially to people that aren't you—in fact I think he comes off to other people as a very anti-marriage, anti-commitment type of guy—but once he finds someone that truly understands him, that makes him feel loved and cared for and happy, he’ll want to do everything in his power to keep them as close to him as he can, for as long as he can.

G—‘G’ IS FOR GENTLE (how gentle are they?)

He is extremely gentle, he's constantly aware of you and your comfort, it will always be a priority for him to make you as comfortable as he possibly can. Although his strength is something that is hard to match, his hands are always so soft when he holds you, his grip is never rough or tight, he always traces your skin with the utmost gentleness. I think he's so scared of hurting you, of coming on too strong, or damaging you, that it takes a lot of work to bring him around to the fact that you aren't as delicate as you look, and that you won't break if he holds you just a little bit harder. A lot of that fear stems from his childhood, he's seen what uncaring men can do to people that they deem lesser than themselves, and he never ever wants to treat you like that.

H—‘H’ IS FOR HUGS (do they like hugs?)

Not really, I think Levi is extremely, extremely selective about who he gives hugs to. He doesn't like people in his space like that, he doesn't need their breath that close to his face, he's perfectly content with a handshake, or a verbal show of appreciation. The only people he'd ever consider allowing to hug him are you, and Erwin probably. Sometimes Hange, but they can get a tad over excited when it happens, so it's a very rare occasion.

I—‘I’ IS FOR I LOVE YOU (how long does it take them to say the ‘l word?’)

A long time. I think this is because he would be so unsure whether the feelings he had were truly love that he'd spend ages agonising over every detail, trying to decipher his own feelings. He hasn't had many healthy experiences of love in his life, not even from his family, so there's very few experiences that he can draw from. He wants to make sure that the words are true when he says them, because he knows he cares for you deeply, and he would never want to lie or deceive you, even accidentally.

J—‘J’ IS FOR JEALOUSY (how do they get jealous?)

Levi is a jealous and possessive person—and he doesn't care how it sounds, if you're dating him then you're his, there's no way around that—but he is also very calm in the way he shows it. If someone is talking to you and they're leaning a little bit too close Levi will just stare at them, he'll watch with his eyes narrowed, looking for any indication or flicker on the person's features that they're a threat to you—if he ever thought you were uncomfortable or in danger he would be at the person talking to you and pinning them to the floor like his life depended on it—but if it just looked like they were annoying you then Levi would leave you to it, until he decided too much time had past and he wanted you back for himself. And if you're standing right next to Levi and someone is continually flirting with you as if he's completely invisible, putting their hands on you or asking you if you've got a boyfriend, making you laugh or offering to buy you a drink, then Levi's reaction is a little different. He hates the idea that some guy could even dare to think he'd have a chance at taking you away, his insecurities would eat away at his confidence all night, even though you had shown absolutely no interest in the person flirting with you. Levi would probably be extra quiet for the rest of the day, he wouldn't appear any different to those looking from the outside, but you would be able to tell that something was wrong. Waiting until the two of you are alone would be the best way to confront his cold attitude, he’d be characteristically standoffish towards you, initially refusing to admit what has him so upset. It would take a while to get him to open up about the problem, he wouldn't want to admit that the root cause of his attitude was his jealousy, or that he hated feeling like you deserved better than him. I think he would need lots of reassurance that he is deserving of you, and that those random people flirting with you, or making fun of your relationship, mean nothing. 

K—‘K’ IS FOR KISSES (what's their kissing schedule?)

He is big on good morning and goodnight kisses, he swears that he always sleeps better when the last thing he does before sleeping is kiss you. And he definitely loves kissing you as a form of greeting when the two of you are in private, he loves to hold you by the waist and press a gentle kiss to your lips, always following this by a soft whisper of “hello”. But other than the routine kisses I think that he sometimes forgets to kiss you, he forgets that kisses are something that he can give you at any time of the day, and that they don't have to be for a special reason—kissing you just because is something you’ll have to remind him is okay.

L—‘L’ IS FOR LITTLE ONES (how are they around kids?)

He is great around kids, but he doesn't get the opportunity to be around them very often. For some reason kids—especially toddlers—really like him. It could be to do with his calm, slightly relaxing demeanour, or the fact that the way he speaks is always on the quieter side, never raising his voice. He never disrespects children, and he finds it utterly repulsive that anyone on this earth would ever purposely treat children horribly. He refuses to be a bad influence on children, and when he is around them he never wants to have any sort of negative impact on their lives. He wants them to have as great a life as they can, and so he does his best to answer any questions they have—even if they are on the sillier side. It makes your heart soar when you walk into a room and see him sitting on the floor, surrounded by a circle of children all hanging onto his every word. For some reason children just trust him, and he never understands it, but he always welcomes it, even if it does distract him from whatever dinner party/ meeting/ trip that he is meant to be focusing on.

M—‘M’ IS FOR MORNINGS (how will your mornings go?)

You will very rarely wake up and find Levi still in bed next to you. He wakes up early almost everyday, and he likes to start his days with a quick, cold shower. Sometimes he will workout in the mornings, and he will shower post workout, but he will always have some kind of healthy drink when he wakes, whether it be a smoothie type thing, fresh juice, or even something as simple as a green tea. He will always make you a cup of whatever he makes himself, and he also likes to pour you a cool glass of water with lemon as well—he drinks his before his shower. But on the rare instance you manage to get him to stay in bed with you the two of you like to read together, or, more accurately, Levi props himself up with pillows and reads his book aloud to you, while you snuggle close to his chest, and run your fingernails along his thighs. 

N—‘N’ IS FOR NIGHTS (how will your nights go?)

Nights with Levi are easy, and simple. He is at his most calm during the evening. I think that once he’s back home, able to shed his clothes from the day and see you safe and happy, he gives himself permission to relax. He always takes some time on his own when he comes home, usually ranging within 30-90 minutes, he adores your company and he loves just being with you, but he needs time to recharge at his own pace, with no one bothering or talking to him. He does a variety of things during this time—reading, bathing, resting his eyes (you would call this meditating, but Levi is adamant that it is not). Often he also does mundane, easy chores such as folding laundry or sweeping up. He finds the routine and simplicity of these things enjoyable, and they're able to ground him back to reality when he’s very overwhelmed or stressed. The two of you love to cook together in the evenings, whether one of you sits and observes, making sure the other is following the recipe correctly, or both of you tackling the dish together, it doesn't matter, as long as you are both in the kitchen. The time together is the most important part. Levi also loves to listen to music at night, he usually puts something on around the time the two of you are making dinner, and it typically stays on all night, right up until bedtime, unless you decide to watch something together. On the days when he feels the most happy, he loves to grab your hand and gently sway with you to the music—his equivalent of dancing.

O—‘O’ IS FOR OPEN (when will they tell you about themself?)

It takes a long time for Levi to open up to you, especially about his childhood, and more widely, any moment before he met Erwin. It's hard to tell when Levi is willing to talk about his past, because he will never bring it up first, he waits for you to ask, but the problem with that is that you never want to pry, or seem like you're trying to push him towards being open, so it doesn't always line up easily. As time goes on he will find it easier to tell you things, but he will never want it to be a full blown conversation, he won't want to have the attention on him for that amount of time, he'd rather tell you a couple things really quickly, and then have you sit in silence while thinking about them. Which isn't the most sustainable form of opening up, but with time he will be able to properly, actually, talk to you about his past without feeling like he's being too vulnerable and wanting to run away.

P—‘P’ IS FOR PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?)

He’s extremely patient with you, but I think that also comes from the fact that he’s expecting you to be the same with him too, and of course you are, but his inexperience with romantic relationships makes him constantly worried during the beginning of your relationship that he’s not doing enough, or he’s doing too much, or he’s doing it wrong. So your patience with him during those stages is probably what would make or break your relationship. And if you’re also inexperienced, or you’re nervous to do things with him, he’d always be happy to wait, and to take things as slow as you need to, all he’d ask is that you communicate what you need from him, because he hates having to guess.

Q—‘Q’ IS FOR QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?)

At the beginning of your relationship he is terrible at remembering things about you, he’s trying his best to get to know you—although if you’ve started dating then it’s likely you’ve been friends for a while before this, so he is familiar with some things about you—but he’s more focused on navigating the changes that come when entering a new relationship. But as he gets more comfortable with you, as he learns and develops as a boyfriend, he’d start to be able to recall the small, silly things that you’ve said to him in passing—the sort of things you say as a joke, or your favourite way to load a dishwasher. As for the bigger stuff, he writes it down. He doesn't want to forget the important stuff, so he makes notes of it—it started with things like your parents names, their birthdays, how many siblings you have, but it worked it’s way towards your favourite ways to be kissed by him, the best way he can show you love, and most recently, the different engagement ring types you've said to him are your favourite.

R—‘R’ IS FOR REMEMBER (what is his favourite moment in your relationship?)

The first time that he put his arm around your waist in public. He doesn't know why, but that moment makes his heart flutter every time he thinks about it. It was only a couple of weeks after you'd started officially dating, the two of you were out with some friends—Erwin, Hange, Petra, and numerous members of Miche’s squad. Levi hadn’t planned on making any sort of big announcement about your relationship, but Hange had taken it upon themselves to make sure everyone knew. Your face had heated up from all the attention, but Levi saw the smile you were trying to hide, and he felt his own face redden too, although all he reacted with was a scoff and a roll of his eyes. It was an hour or so later, the two of you were talking quietly with Erwin, when a large, rather loud, group entered the room you were all in. Levi had felt you tense, and without thinking he wrapped his arm around your waist. He saw Erwin raise his eyebrows, but luckily the blonde said nothing of the affection Levi was giving you. He excused himself, leaving you and Levi alone, and as Levi turned to you, he was about to remove his arm when he saw the smile on your face—this time you were not trying to hide it at all. You placed your hand on top of Levi’s, forcing him to keep his arm in place, and Levi remembers how happy it had made him, knowing that he had helped you to feel safe, and he was surprised to find that he wasn't embarrassed by the pda—although, he was relieved that Hange hadn't gotten a glimpse of it, he dreaded to think of the whistles and yelling that would have taken place had they seen it.

S—‘S’ IS FOR SECURITY (how protective are they of you?)

Extremely protective. Every time the two of you are out together his eyes are peeled for any sort of danger or uncomfortable situation that could occur, he steers you clear of large groups of men, drunk people shouting and any other thing that could make you feel unsafe. He also has a hard time letting others take you away from him, even when he knows you'll be completely fine—if the two of you are hanging out with friends and one of them tries to steal you away from Levi so you can have gossip time/a private catch up, Levi is always hesitant, even though he will still be able to see you. 

T—‘T’ IS FOR TRY (how much effort do they put into dates? special occasions?)

He tries his best, especially on special occasions, but it takes a lot of practice for him to be good at planning dates. That sort of thing usually just slips his mind, he forgets that you might want to go out with him to eat dinner/watch a movie/attend a show etc. But he's a little better with special occasions, although they usually have a slightly negative effect on him—he’ll be so worried and stressed about making sure he has the perfect gift and the perfect plan for you that he gets so tense you have to remind him that it's okay if things aren't perfect, as long as the two of you are together then whatever you do will be amazing. He's just so worried about letting you down, or losing you:(

U—‘U’ IS FOR UGLY (what's a bad habit of theirs?)

He's really picky about his organisation. Even if you are a clean person, and generally keep your space tidy, he will always have something to say about it. He is quite rigid when it comes to this, and it can make him quite hard to live with at first since he will refuse to budge from the way he wants to do things. 

V—‘V’ IS FOR VANITY (how insecure are they?)

He's not insecure with his looks—he's never really given them much thought, and he's never needed too. As long as he looks neat and respectable it doesn't matter to him whether other people consider him attractive. But I do think he’s insecure within your relationship, he's probably so scared during the first few months that he's going to screw up, or lose you in some way and make you hate him, that he's over careful, extra quiet, and refuses to disagree with you—to the point where he’s almost miserable because he’s bottling too much stuff up. He's so insecure of his boyfriend abilities, he thinks his lack of experience is going to cause major issues.

W—‘W’ IS FOR WHOLE (would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes and no. I don't think Levi needs a romantic relationship in order to feel complete. I think he's perfectly content by himself. But once you've penetrated his inner circle, once you've lived with him, shown him the darkest parts of yourself, and not ran from his darkest parts, I think he wouldn't want to be apart from you. He wouldn't want to have his walls broken down for nothing. He wouldn’t want to lose the part of him that you helped nurture and develop.

X—‘X’ IS FOR XTRA (a random headcanon about them?)

Levi loves art. He has sketchbooks filled with small pencil drawings of you, your house, your pets, and silly things like the telephone, cutlery and desk chairs. He doesn't care if anyone thinks he's good or not (although, he is amazing), he just finds it really relaxing, and he likes to be able to have a hobby that doesn't involve screens or anything electronic. He most often works in pencil, but he likes to experiment with pen, and very occasionally he will use acrylic paints when he wants to paint a big scene like a garden, flowers, or anything landscape related. 

Y—‘Y’ IS FOR YUCK (what are some things they dislike?)

Levi dislikes the modernisation of communication—he loves having a landline and being able to just pick up the phone and call someone, but he knows most people won’t answer a call out of the blue (and this is not to say he hates texting, he actually find it quite useful, but there's just something about speaking over the phone that he finds comforting.) He dislikes how many different social medias you’re expected to have just to be able to keep up to date with people—he has a whatsapp account, an instagram that he only uses to like your photos and occasionally scroll through the recommended for you page (his account is empty, you had to change his profile picture yourself because he refused to do it), and a facebook account that has gone unused since it was created because he forgot the password and he doesn't care enough to reset it. He dislikes people invading his personal space, whether they are his friends or complete strangers. He dislikes people shouting to their friends in the street, and he hates going clubbing (too many people, too close together, too loud). He also dislikes overly sweet food, he can barely eat one bite if it's too sugary.

Z—‘Z’ IS FOR ZZZ (some of their sleeping habits?)

He's both a night owl and a morning person, since he doesn't need a lot of sleep to be able to function. He usually gets 5-6 hours each night, but he will always sleep in with you when you ask. He doesn't wear pyjamas, he usually just wears a pair of loose boxers and some light shorts, although in the winter sometimes he chooses trousers over shorts. He never wears a t-shirt to bed. He loves to have a cup of tea before bed, usually about an hour before he sleeps, and he likes to read before sleeping. He likes to sleep under a light/medium tog duvet, as he's usually cold when he gets in bed, but he warms up pretty fast and he'd prefer to be cool in bed than too hot. He hates noise when he's trying to sleep, but he doesn't mind light.

[illusionsofdreaming]

birds without feet;

Notes: I return to the blog with this monster of a ficlet. This was actually written for @nin-deer who very graciously allowed me to share it on the blog as well. A small imagine that grew out of control haha... enjoy~ Ft: Beacrox

It was but a subtle shift of air that caused him to abandon his project. In an instant, he whipped around, knife in hand, its sharp blade poised just above the intruder's jugular, ready to cut deep with the slightest pressure.

Despite the threat of a blade at your neck, your smile was relaxed as you lifted the roll of parchment in your hand. “Delivery!”

His eyes quickly scanned the kitchen, noting the shifted curtains he pieced together your point of entrance. Only when you wiggled the paper impatiently did he finally drop the knife and swiped the parchment from your hand, ignoring your huff of laughter as he scanned over its contents.

“It’s nice to see you too Beacrox. How have you been?” 

Your attempts at casual banter were ignored, but the moment you began reaching for the food on the table, his gaze snapped to yours, promising pain should you attempt further.

You were wise enough to heed his warning as you stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “Sheesh, you’re not going to make any friends if you keep acting this way.”

Crumpling the piece of paper, he threw it into the fireplace as you clicked your tongue in mock annoyance.

Had he cared for your opinion, he might’ve been annoyed, alas it was easy to dismiss as he threw a pouch in your direction, the clink of gold muted as you caught it from the air. He watched as you tossed the bag a few times before pocketing it.

You must have caught the confusion on his face as you glanced up with a grin. “I know you won’t cheat me of my payment.”

Though it was the truth—Molan’s motto was always to repay what’s due—such blatant admission of trust from someone working in the dark underbelly of society puzzled him, and without meaning to, he’d let his displeasure slip through. “It could’ve been filled with rocks.”

You blinked, head tilted as if you’re considering the possibility, then you laughed. “Then I suppose I’ll be a few pretty rocks richer.”

He scowled and returned to his work, grabbing his knife to hide the flush of annoyance he felt by your flippant answer. You knew such responses would annoy him, and he refused to give you the satisfaction of being correct.

One does not survive long in the underworld with their morals and innocence intact. Your deliberate pushing of buttons was another tactic to wheedle information from your targets, and he wasn't inclined on revealing anything. You already know far too much as is.

“Leave,” he ordered, his limited patience well and truly spent. 

“Always a pleasure talking to you, Bea~”

He threw the knife in his hand, but by the time he turned around, you were already gone. The only evidence of your visit was the lingering echoes of your laughter and a missing tart from the plate of desserts he'd prepared earlier.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

As you kept the package just out of his reach, he couldn’t help but think: for a grown person jaded by the underworld, you sure liked acting like a child at times.

“You just thought of something rude didn’t you?”

His gaze snapped to yours. “You forget who you’re dealing with.” he warned coldly. The Molan household might have fallen from grace but just because he had traded his daggers for kitchen knives, they were no less lethal in his hands. Was it confidence or foolishness that made you dare to test his patience?

The silence in the kitchens was deafening as your eyes met across the counter. 

“I haven’t,” You said finally, “not once.” Your smile was wry and lacked its usual cheer but the heaviness in your tone bore the weight of many secrets, of someone who knew far more than what they’re letting on. He’s faced with an uncanny sense of unbelonging and emptiness that seemed eerily familiar. 

But with a blink of an eye, the mask that had slipped had righted itself. “I have a change of mind,” You sat on the edge of the counter island, tension and somber mood shaken off, replaced with an all too sunny smile. “I’d like another form of payment for the information I’m selling.”

He felt anger lick up his throat as his fist clenched above the table. “That was not part of our deal.”

“An amendment to the agreement then, if you will-”

“I refuse.”

Your peals of laughter filled the room, “You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I refuse.” He repeated sternly. Knowing your personality, it would be an amendment that would greatly irritate or inconvenience him. 

“I’d like you to cook a dish for me.” You continued, ignoring his words. 

There was a sharp snap as the corner of the table cracked under his hand as incredulity stole over his face. 

To begin with, payment for your services had never been cheap, each bag of gold was worth more than several months’ worth of food. If all you wanted was a decent meal, then you’ve already been charging enough to dine at any of Roan kingdom’s finest restaurants.

“It’s not a dish that can be found on any menu in the kingdom.” You tutted as if you knew the thoughts that were going through his head. “It’s not something that can be bought with gold.” 

You’re pulling his leg. “And why do you think I’d care to create a dish no one’s heard of?” Beacrox asked through gritted teeth.

“I know you don’t.” You laughed, lips slanted with a smile. “It’s something I’ve tasted a long time ago but have no idea how it’s made. I’ll describe what I remember and if you believe it’s impossible to recreate or not worth the hassle,” you shrugged in an exaggerated display of nonchalance, “then I’ll take the usual payment like nothing’s changed. It’s a good deal for you right?”

Nothing about this deal made sense. You’re essentially offering your services for free while he’d benefit regardless of whether he succeeds in recreating the dish or not. His expression was stiff as he crossed his arms.

You set the package down on the table gently and slid a piece of folded paper next to it. “Take your time to think about it.” You offered as you pulled your hood up. You left the kitchens as quietly as you’d arrived, leaving him to brood in the silence left behind.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

“Here.” he sets the completed project on the table with the reluctance of a person who would rather be anywhere else but in the kitchens at that very moment. He folded his arms, pinning his hands to his chest, resisting the urge to snatch the plate and throw it in the trash, calling off the deal.

Beacrox had no expectations of being able to recreate a dish he had never heard of. Yet, from the moment he set the plate down, you stiffened in place, your pleasant smile melting away, replaced by shock.

“Well?”, You flinched as he prompted impatiently. You pulled the dish closer, your smile weak and crooked. 

“I was just a bit surprised that’s all..” your voice trailed off.

He filed your reactions away in the back of his mind.

Your grip was uncertain but eventually you picked a piece from the plate and placed it in your mouth.

You froze in place, and he immediately slid a cup of water and bowl over. 

But you surprised him when you kept it in and swallowed. “It…” He watched as your face straightened slowly, all visible emotions ironed away into one of careful neutrality. 

“..tastes nothing like it.” 

When vague subjective descriptions on a slim piece of paper were all that he had to work with, he’d expected this outcome. The bag of gold he had prepared in advance was tossed onto the table as he reached to retrieve the dish, only to be deterred when sharp pain sprang across the back of his hand. The surprise he felt from the fact he’d failed to catch your movements was swiftly replaced by irritation when he realised you’d slapped him. 

His eyes narrowed, “What are you-“

“I’m taking it.” you said and to his utter confusion, went on to shove another bite in your mouth.

“You just said-“

“I know what I said.” you huffed, “I never said the dish had to taste right did I? It’s a good first try-“ His eyebrows lifted as you suddenly lost the ability to maintain eye contact with him. “Anyways, I’ll be the judge of what’s accepted and I say this passes.”

You've always been an eccentric character, but just when he thought you couldn't faze him further, you managed to render him speechless yet again. Till now, he’s yet to figure out your intention behind your request, if taste was not a priority then what use was creating the dish you’re looking for? 

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“But I haven’t-“

“Out.”

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

Of all the informants in the kingdom, none possessed skills that could surpass yours. It was why, despite the many headaches you induced, Beacrox had chosen to suffer your pestering for so long.

Not one of his sources has ever confirmed how you acquire your information or seen you in action. Yet the intelligence you provide, which has, at many times, sounded unbelievable, had been proven to be true time and time again. 

Perhaps the strangest thing of all was that, despite the ease with which you uncover others' secrets, the same couldn’t be said vice versa. Little to no information could be found regarding your background, whatever was found was obviously doctored, being far too mundane for someone of your skills. You were either incredibly thorough at covering your tracks or an experienced fraudster, and Beacrox was inclined on believing the latter.  

Your unpredictable behaviour made it hard to judge whether you’re an ally or foe, so it was only natural that he’d sought for leverage to hold against you in case there’ll be a day you’d decide to betray them and sell their secrets to their enemies. 

That was the only reason he would consider playing along with your games.

Though he knew not the significance of these dishes to you, he had hoped they would provide some insight on your background or places you’ve been to where other sources have failed to narrow down. 

But of course even the meals you’d request would be harder if not just as difficult to trace as well.

It was only a matter of time before you caught onto his intentions, after all, he’d never kept his investigations a secret. Yet instead of pulling back like he’d expected, you had become bolder in your requests, eyes sparkling with mischief as if you understood the frustration he was going through and still remain one infuriating step ahead of him at all times. 

He’d considered the possibility that you could be pulling his leg, but there was something about the nostalgia in your eyes as you taste each dish that made Beacrox believe in their authenticity. 

He glanced at a small box hidden by the side, within held a small but steadily growing pile of recipes of unknown origins. Not for the first time, Beacrox found himself questioning if all these peaceful days have turned him soft after all.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

A familiar, unwelcome figure was sitting in his fresh crate of produce.

A quick scan around the area confirmed that you were alone and he walked over to assess your state. A splatter trail led up to the crate you sat on and his brows furrowed in distaste. The darkness made it difficult to immediately see any obvious signs of injuries and when you made no reaction to his presence, he kicked the crate below you.

“Ow.” you stirred, complaining with a soft laugh. 

Conscious. 

“Why are you here?”

Your unannounced visit broke one of many unspoken rules governing their kind. As people maintaining a delicate facade, unexpected visits were not merely discouraged but deemed perilous. No one would fault him should he choose to silence you then and there - such was the severity of your faux pas - yet he stood, only mildly irritated, at the disruption you’ve brought to a peaceful night.

It took a moment longer than he liked before you gathered enough strength to speak. “Sorry,” you apologised and for once, actually sounding it. “I just need a little rest. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Your laboured breathing and unfocused gaze suggested otherwise and he folded his arms as the dreadful feeling of his plans for an early night slipped through his fingers like fine sand. 

“How bad is it?” 

Impatiently he waited for you to process his words, your sluggishness a strange contrast to your usually sharp wit and quick retorts. 

“It’s been treated.” 

The smell of blood was sharp and acrid, he would have to clean the stains soon if he wished to avoid its scent lingering in the area. “I will not ask again.” He warned.

You were exhausted, it could be seen from your posture and expression. Though he understood the instinct to hide one’s weakness, from the moment you chose to rest here it wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ the truth comes out but a matter of ‘when’ and Beacrox would preferred if it happened sooner rather than later.

Just as he was contemplating the benefits of leaving you to your fate, your lips loosened. “Stab wound on the left, missed vitals. I’ve been tended to but some of the stitches might have opened up.”

That would explain the bloody trail you left. He should count his blessings that it didn’t sound too bothersome, assuming you hadn't foolishly downplayed the severity of your injuries. Your arms came up defensively as he began moving towards you, eyes widening with surprise, “Wait-“

His arms slipped under and around and with barely a grunt of effort, he lifted you up. The sudden motion drew a muffled groan from you and he allowed you a brief moment to collect yourself before he began moving. From this position, he could acutely feel the heat radiating from your skin and the tremors that wracked your body. 

Your confusion and trepidation were clear and it was with some hesitation before you decided to open your mouth-

“Save your breath.” He advised and you obediently swallowed your words.

He moved you into the storage shed behind the kitchen. Though dark, he navigated through the small space easily, setting you on the surface of several boxes, he stepped back to note that you’ve lost consciousness. The walk hadn’t been far but you must have exhausted your reserves traveling here.

From the darkness he brought out a small knife and paused, looking at your face, sweat slicked yet slack from tension, having found an escape from the worries troubling you - however temporary. He recognised that this moment might be a rare opportunity to unveil the secrets you hide, yet as quick as the notion flitted through his mind, it was dismissed just as quickly. With methodical precision, he cut open the side of your shirt where red had stained through.

The wound was as you’d described, if not a bit irritated and swollen. Basic first aid had been applied, though the messy stitch work left much to be desired, it did its job in holding your injury closed. A few stitches had come loose and will need to be reworked but nothing that he’s not capable of handling even with his limited medical knowledge.

As his gaze roamed to your face checking, yes, you were still unconscious, he left and returned moments later with a candle, clean water, cloth and a clean shirt. 

A dusty shed and mere candlelight were far from an ideal setting to perform any kind of wound care, but he doubted you’d care at this point. Pristine, white gloves snapped on, he made short work of cleaning, restitching and bandaging your wound. 

He was about to tilt a bottle of potion into your lips when you mumbled. He paused, waiting to see if you were regaining consciousness. You mumbled again and he frowned. It took him few moments before he realised two things: you weren’t waking up anytime soon and the words you’re mumbling, weren’t in a language from Roan or even any of the neighbouring kingdoms. 

As a master assassin, he had learned many languages, so the fact that you spoke one that he couldn’t place piqued his interest. He watched your lips, intent on studying and memorising the unique intonations and pitch, however, it seems your instincts finally kicked in, and though still unconscious, you’d stopped mumbling. 

Even out cold, you’d find a way to be bothersome. There was nothing more he could do, he left the folded, clean shirt he brought along by your side and with one final glance at your still form, he closed the doors behind him and locked it.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

He returned the next morning to a broken lock and an empty shed. In place of where you’re supposed to be was instead a piece of paper and a bag of coins. 

“Thanks for last night. Sorry about your spuds, I’ve replaced them for you :)”

A glance to the side confirmed the presence of a fresh crate of potatoes and a slip of paper containing the description of a dish never heard of before in the kingdom.

And for the first time ever, a name to go alongside the unfamiliar dish.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

You never mentioned what happened that night and he didn’t pry. Still, something seemed to have shifted between the two of you.

He no longer chases you away the moment you appear, while you've learned to place yourself to avoiding getting in the way of his cooking. He pretends not to notice when you arrive with injuries and you feign surprise at finding mysterious salves appearing nearby. 

“Aw, did you miss my company?” you teased when you caught his gaze assessing you after dropping by from one of your longer absences.

Beacrox made no attempt to conceal the dry scowl on his face. “Like one misses a rat infestation.”

“Charming~” you beamed.

Some things, still don’t change no matter what. 

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

In the end, it was the one question he couldn’t figure out. 

“Why me?”

The dishes you've shared are simple, you could've hired any other chef, given the same descriptions and they would’ve achieved similar results. But you chose to badger him, an unknown chef working for a humble count's family instead.

You paused in your devouring of yet another strange dish, blinking as if surprised that he would be the first to initiate conversation.

“Why Bea! You should have more confidence in yourself, you’re one of the best chefs in Roan!”

It was as obvious a deflection as he ever saw. His fingers tightened around his arms and he took a slow breath. So you’re going to be stubborn. Well, two can play that game. He tried another angle. 

The words tasted foreign on his tongue, but they were something that turned over and over in his mind since that night. He’d probably horribly butchered the pronunciation but it seemed the meaning was successfully relayed from the way your eyes widened and your pupils shook with recognition. 

The utensil held in your hand clattered to the table and Beacrox kept his eyes trained on you, taking in your paling face. When it didn't seem like you would offer an explanation, he continued.

“It’s what you kept repeating that night.“

A myriad of emotions crossed your face: shock, confusion, fear, and finally, resignation. 

In the silence, you slowly repeated those same words. Sharp, crisp and wholly foreign. 

"“Home,” your voice was soft, but it was the loudest thing in the kitchen. “‘I want to go home.’” you swallowed thickly, a wavering smile on your face. “that’s probably what I said.”

There was a lot to unpack from that revelation. 

He was suddenly reminded of how you’d react to the dishes each time, savouring each one, scouring the plates clean despite the differences in tastes. You ate not to fulfil the hunger of the body but to satisfy a craving of the mind. After receiving the recipe with a foreign name, it had confirmed one suspicion of his, that wherever these dishes came from, whether it was a place or a person that you're reminiscing about, they're likely no longer accessible.

You're reliving memories through dishes you barely remember. Chasing ghosts in your memories in search of some semblance of normalcy. 

Trust was a limited and rare currency in the underworld, hoarded jealously and coveted by many. You’d handed him the leash he’d sought since he agreed to your little game yet he felt gutted by the weight of the revelation, his shoulders burdened.

“Why me?” He repeated softly.

You watched him. “I don’t know.” Your voice sounded small and so tired. “I thought maybe, if it’s anyone, you’d probably understand.”

What does the concept of home and person mean when they no longer exist? Who are they but displaced people playing roles too big or small to hold their histories? Bearing memories of a place and person, but unable to find an equivalent?

It was a mistake. He shouldn’t have asked.

“But I wasn’t lying you know?” you added suddenly and he looked up in confusion, the smile you wore was weaker than usual but it was genuine. 

“You are one of the best chefs in all of Roan.” You declared in that same, familiar confidence which you use to share all those impossible, far-fetched sounding intel that always, turns out to be fact. 

For some inexplicable reason, it was that simple statement that dispersed the tempest building within.

Beacrox sighed, ran his hand through his hair, and exhaled through his nose.

And perhaps, there was a small, exasperated chuckle.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

“Bea please marry me.”

It wasn't often, but on rare occasions, he would nail the taste of a dish right.

He didn’t bother with a response but moved to refill your plate nonetheless.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

“Thank you.”

He paused while wiping the dishes. “For what?”

“Just,” Your gaze dropped to the plate before you as your fork tapped lightly against the edge. “Thank you for the food.”

Beacrox watched as you returned to eating, mind filled with memories of all the dishes he's made, of greatswords and bladed edges, and thought of what home and belonging is. 

We’re not so different. The idea of it wasn't as horrifying as he had thought. Once, perhaps he would’ve been unnerved by the sentimentality. There are still so many things that remain a secret when it comes to you, and yet, as you close your eyes to savor each bite, he feels as if he knows you better than most.

You ate in comfortable silence. He rolled his shoulders and allowed the tension in them to drop off. 

This might not be ‘home’ but for now, this moment was as good a resting place as any for people like them.

“You’re welcome.” he said softly. 

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━ 

BONUS:

Once again, it begins with a ridiculous request from you.

“Bea please, you have to prepare this for Choi Han. I’ll even sell you my kidneys, I really need to know his reaction.” 

What value would owning your kidneys have? That you’d blatantly suggest such things to an assassin like himself was laughable, stranger still was his playing the fool and following along anyways.

He didn't question how you knew about their mansion's new guest, though your sudden interest in the visitor when you’ve shown no such interest in past guests was worthy of note. Even he had unconsciously tensed when the young master had introduced him. Something about the newcomer didn’t seem right. They were strong, but their potential was untapped and raw, like an uncontrollable beast on the verge of lashing out at any moment.

The glimmer of something in your eyes further confirmed his suspicions. You knew something about this stranger though you refused to reveal more, only promising that he’s not a threat to him or Ron. 

He frowned at the pot of red he’s stirring, the pungent smell wafting through the room. Footsteps from the doorway had him looking up, but the person that crossed the threshold was not the person he’d expected. 

The young master stepped in with a cautious look in his eyes. 

“I thought I smelled..” brown eyes narrowed at the pot he held. “What’s that?”

Beacrox glanced down at the strange dish he was asked to prepare, wondering why of all people that could’ve come, it would be Cale Henituse. 

“A dish a friend taught me to make.” Then for some reason unbeknownst to him, he offered. “Would the young master like to try?”

Cale hesitated, but eventually slid himself onto a seat, choosing the one farthest away from him. At least the young master seemed sober. Beacrox felt no fondness for the young master he served, even if it was true that he had begun to change recently, raising even the interest of Ron. 

Spooning a small portion, he set the dish and utensils down before Cale, ignoring the young man’s flinch as he gauged Cale’s strange expressions. 

The young master stared at the dish as if it would leap up and attack him, his strange wariness reminded Beacrox of your reaction when he first presented that first unfamiliar dish to you. 

“.. there’s no way..” Cale muttered to himself as he poked and prodded until finally, he tried a bite. 

“What.. the hell?”

Beacrox had never seen the young master's eyes bug out like that, and he decided it was quite an entertaining sight, even if the dish’s original target wasn’t meant for the redhead. Still he stifled an irritated sigh as a thought crossed his mind when the young master exclaimed.

“How the hell did you learn to make kimchi?!”

“What the hell did you make me do this time _______?”

Notes: I've had lots of thoughts while writing this imagine turned fic. Nin-deer gave me a simple prompt of "cooking" and I went and turned it into lore- OTL even I don't understand the intricate workings of my brain. I've had to cut out some chapters details as it was growing out of hand so I hope everything's links together properly. I've reached that stage where I've reread a piece of writing so many times, nothing makes sense anymore. I've deliberately left the dishes 'cooked' vague so you're free to imagine whatever cuisine you'd like that Beacrox helped butcher 👍🏼

[bokettochild]

What is your favorite obscure piece of legend lore?

There is so much freaking lore about Legend in the mangas! and the old games! I know the mangas aren't cannon and stuff, but I think non-cannon is the peak of obscure, so I'll just go off!

The violet eyes thing is very precious to me, but that's a headcannon, so let's just... yeah

I think it would be his connection to Fi. There are very few heroes who actually hear the voice of the Master Sword, and many never do. In most of the stories we actually see the hero striving to be worthy of the blade! Sky fights so hard to be enough, to prove himself, if not to Fi than most certainly to Impa and himself. Warriors' journey features his own struggles with the blade, his hubris and folly. While I haven't played the game, the Twilight Princess manga does show Twilight undergoing a similar struggle of achieving the worthiness of holding the Master Sword, even finding it too heavy to lift at times when his heart is not in the right place or his pride is getting in the way.

But Legend never faces that. Granted, his stories are all so much simpler than that of the others, at least, as far as game play is concerned, and the manga creators didn't really go too nuts with his personal journey like they did with Twilight, but still! Legend finds the Master Sword in decay and ruin, and she speaks to him. She's not strong, she's not harsh, she's nothing like she is in any other game ever (except TOTK sort of) and she looks at this little kid who wanders across her and says "yes, that one".

The kid who has nothing to gain from saving the world. The kid who's already lost everything there is to lose. The kid who is repeatedly giving of himself and what little he has to help others in his journey, even though in the long run it means nothing. She looks at him and when he draws her blade she welcomes him

Legend is one of the only heroes to not only have Fi's full approval before he ever wields her, but is also the hero who just....has so much connection with Fi. Their fates have been intertwined for nearly as long as he's lived. She's the only comfort he's consistently had at his side.

I love that he never had to fight to be enough. Legend has so many struggles; being a good enough hero, especially when he never set out to be one, isn't something he needed to face. Legend is a pure-hearted person (which is even pointed out by others and displayed many times in the manga) and was already worthy. His rabbit soul tells us he's probably fighting his own fears and worries, anxieties and terrors, all through his adventure. To have Fi's security and strength to lean on, to compliment his own, rather than cold indifference, disapproval or expectation, was something he needed.

I also love the fact that Legend went out of his way to ask Farore to go and get Fi for him when he went out on his other adventures. he didn't know he needed her, but when he did, he asked for her so he could be at his best. Legend is most complete with the Master Sword beside him. He's not fully himself without a sword (hence why every adventure after ALTTP almost always features him searching out a blade first thing) especially without HIS sword.

Fi is Sky's sword. The Sword that he completed. First forged her, but left her unfinished. Sky perfected her. But Legend took her at her weakest and strengthened her again. Sky may be her Master, but I like to think Legend is her boy. They've been together for so long. He's been without people for so much of his adventures, and knowing she can speak, that she has a soul, I image he speaks to her when he's lonely. We see him speak to her in LU, fondly calling her "old girl" with a sort of familiarity that's singular to him. He probably shared everything with her; his fears, his hopes, his insecurities. She's Sky's sword, but she's Legend's friend.

I've joked about it before, once even put it in a fic, but Fi is the only being Legend has consistently had in his life. The only one whose never left him, no matter what happens or where he goes. She's his guide, his help, his strength and assurance and the one thing he knows will never fail him.

Honestly, if you haven't noticed that Legend smiles more at the sword than at any one of the heroes, you're missing out. And it's such a beautiful smile too!

There's warmth, familiarity, recognition- so much in that smile.

Fi is important to Legend, and I like to think he's important to her too.

Anyways, this is all to say that I love how Legend is one of the only ones to hear the blade speak, and how it implies that he and she are connected in a way that Wild, that Flora, that so many heroes and princesses before and after have striven to be, and I think it's beautiful that it comes naturally to him. Legend deserves to have had at least one thing easy!

[thescrapwitch]

I need help figuring out which one of my multi-chapter fic ideas to start planning/writing. Please help me choose!

Thank you!