#the few CLAMP things I have I HOARD

[mj-iza-writer]

Be warned: contains body horror.

Whumper was pushed to the floor to bow to Whumpee. He dared not fight the winged beast hovering behind him.

"I warned you", Whumpee looked at him angrily, "you could have just released me, but no, you had to play with the demons. Now they're ticked."

Whumper couldn't hide their fear.

"I-i thought you were making up stories. You know, I never thought you really had an army of demons to do your bidding", Whumper cowered, "please have mercy on me."

"Like you had mercy on me right?", Whumpee sat back on Whumper's couch, "this is quite comfortable, too bad I had to sit on the floor."

Some of the demons growled, including the winged one standing behind him.

"I'm just wondering what took my general so long to get me", Whumpee looked at one of the demons.

"My Queen, there was an old protection placed on this home, it goes back centuries. It took the magician several tries to break it", the general bowed, "please forgive me."

"I thought I felt something", Whumpee sighed.

"How did you get through the protection", the winged beast questioned.

"It must have allowed me in do to my unwanted invitation", Whumpee stood to leave.

"Where are you going?", Whumper fell and grabbed Whumpee's ankles.

The winged beast bent down to force him to let go, but Whumpee stopped him.

"I'm leaving, I have to regain control of my hoard of demons", Whumpee smiled, "don't worry Dracarys will keep you company, until,... well he'll explain."

"Explain what", Whumper looked up at the winged beast, "are you Dracarys?"

"I am. I am their majesties protector, and I'm not happy you stole them from me", Dracarys frowned, "you will suffer the punishment for mistreating them."

Whumper looked fearfully at Whumpee one last time, "please no, I'll do anything."

"You'll die for me, that is the thing I am requesting of you", Whumpee started to walk, "that is the price you will pay."

"Uh, anything else, please", Whumper cried out.

Dracarys happily grabbed Whumper, "their majesty has spoken, they are to be sacrificed by black death."

"Black Death?", Whumper whispered and eyed Whumpee.

Whumpee smiled, "it's much too gross for me to watch. Goodbye Whumper." With that Whumpee faded out and disappeared completely.

Dracarys had two demons hold down Whumper.

My blood is called Black Death. It is pitch black in color, and extremely thick and sticky. Once injested, it can not be brought back up", Dracarys took a knife and cut their arm, "you will feel it begin to eat away at your insides, it's starts in your stomach and eats from the inside out, and normally leaves your head last. You will feel every last horrible moment of this until you die."

"No please, I don't deserve that", Whumper cried, "you can't."

"I'm a demon. I don't have to follow your mortal rules. I also don't really care for you mortals, although I guess I'm protecting a few of them from a sicko like you", Dracarys squeezed his arm to force the blood out, "most human prisoners have said my blood is very sweet, so you should enjoy it, I've even had to force a few to stop."

Whumper fought against the demons holding him, they were too strong. He tried to keep his mouth clamped shut.

Dracarys kicked Whumper in the abdomen, and when Whumper screamed, he forced his arm into Whumper's mouth.

"You acted so tough to their royal highness, but now you cower in fear", Dracarys mocked, "I'm shocked my Master never showed their true power. You think I'm scary. Think about what the Master of a Hoard of Demons is capable of."

The thick substance oozed into Whumper's mouth. It was sweet.

Gulp.

They swallowed accidentally, and then another mouth full went down. There body was ignoring their pleas not to swallow. He had no control.

"That should about do it", Dracarys pulled on Whumper's nose to force him to let go, "it's addictive I know."

Whumper began to shake, he wanted more. He couldn't stop.

"That's the dangers of my blood. It's deadly because of what it does, but my victims always drink willingly after one mouth full", Dracarys smiled, "you are not going to like this next part, you'll be a pile of goop in a few minutes."

Whumper instantly felt bubbles in his stomach. He groaned, remembering what was said... but the blood was so.... stop, you just screwed yourself and you want more.

A burning sensation arose from their throat, they started to cough.... was that blood on their carpet... there blood. Another cough.

"Your body is trying to fight my blood, it's so thick and sticky though. You are going to be coughing up a lot of crap", Dracarys grinned, "this will teach you a lesson. Unfortunately, that lesson is also going to kill you"

Whumper cursed, then coughed up more.... uh, chunks.

Their body felt as though it was tearing apart, the pain had transferred down their legs. It was moving into their shins and ankles.

Whumper gasped, "make it stop."

"I can't, that blood is in you", Dracarys wiped a tear that had formed in Whumper's eyes, "I wonder, how many times did their royal highness ask you to make the pain stop, but you didn't?

Whumper's eyes grew sorrowful, "I'm sorry."

Whumper's legs had begun to bleed, most of their lower body was bloody now. Inner body tissue was starting to poke through the tearing melting skin. Their guts were starting to budge.

They screamed curses at the group of demons watching. Their agony had only gone for maybe a minute, but it felt like eternity.

"Oop we got bone poking through", Dracarys pointed at his knee.

Whumper tried to look down, their neck was starting to be eaten away. They felt their head fall over.

They screamed again, gargling blood. Their voice cut out completely.

"Your vocal cards are gone, you can't talk anymore", Dracarys grinned, "remember you put this on yourself."

Whumper groaned as their body continued to melt into the carpet. They managed to force a glare before completely succumbing to the black death.

Dracarys sighed, "the ending always goes so fast."

They could hear Whumpee's call now, they were calling their hoard back together. They had been gone for quite a while, and it had gotten a little out of control.

"All of you go their highness, I'll finish here", Dracarys commanded.

The demons dispersed, leaving Dracarys with the goopy mess Whumper left.

Dracarys snapped their fingers and created a fireball in their hand. Soon the entire house was on fire. Dracarys smiled at the sight and left to find Whumpee.

"Your highness the deed is done", Dracarys bowed, "what is your next command."

"Catch me", Whumpee had felt their body weakening more now.

Dracarys quickly left forward and caught Whumpee as they fainted.

"This hoard needs to follow me as we return to the castle, their highness needs the magician now", Dracarys hurried into the air, and they cradled Whumpee in their arms.

Whumpee moaned as they were laid in front of the magician.

The magician sighed, "between that protection on the house and what their captor did, they are very weak now. They should have waited to call of you together, that used up what was left of their strength."

"Is there anything you can do for them?", Dracarys looked at Whumpee's body, "my queen seems so weak."

"I can offer a place for them to rest, you will have to keep control over the hoard until they can do it again", the magician looked over Whumpee, "nothing else can be done, they're tired and weak."

"May I stay with them, if they are weak, I'd rather know they are safe in their weakened state", Dracarys frowned, "I don't want to risk losing them, I sat beating at that window for weeks trying to get to them. I can't leave them again."

"You can stay with them", the magician nodded.

"Dracarys", Whumpee whispered.

"Yes your highness", Dracarys bowed.

"Carry me to the window", Whumpee whispered their command.

Dracarys looked at the Magician before picking Whumpee up and taking them to the window.

Whumpee summoned the last of their strength.

"I leave this hoard in the hands of my Dracarys until my strength returns", Whumpee commanded before going limp.

Dracarys laid them into a bed the Magician quickly made for them. They bowed.

"You have my word, I will protect you", Dracarys promised.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

[consolecadet]

How did you cut the pill bottles so neatly? I'd love to recycle the bag of bottles my dad's been hoarding in a similar way (although I'd airbrush or spray paint them since I don't own anything orange)

Ooh, nice! I wonder if they would take alcohol ink well too, if you want them to stay transparent and have a color that would blend well with orange.

(This is in reference to this prescription bottle bead curtain, for people who haven't seen it)

I wish I had pictures of the process! I tried about a million different things (laser cutting, band saw, hand saw, hand cutting with box cutter, etc, all miserable) before a friend made a very simple suggestion that worked great. We used a woodworking clamp to sandwich an exacto knife blade between a few pieces of scrap wood to make a cutting jig (see diagram). The little spacer piece of wood in the center determines the width of the prescription bottle ring. You just (CAREFULLY) stab the bottle down onto the blade and then rotate the bottle until you've cut all the way around.

Good luck and let me know if you try it!

[a-koschyei]

send ♫  for a dynamic playlist ♔. from the hoard : 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔭𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬 ( @daylighter ) , accepting

001 succession, hbo opening credits theme (too relevant idc idc)

002 no angels, bastille: no, i don't want your number / no, i don't wanna give you mine, and / no, i don't wanna meet you nowhere / no, don't want none of your time / no, i don't want no scrub / a scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me / hangin' out the passenger side / of his best friend's ride / trying to holla at me / [...][we're all in our private traps] / [clamped in them and none of us can ever get out] / [sometimes we deliberately step into those traps] / [i was born in mine, i don't mind it anymore]

003 arsonist's lullaby, hozier: when i was a child / i heard voices / some would sing and some would scream / you soon find you have few choices / i learned the voices died with me / when I was a child / i'd sit for hours / staring into open flame / something in it had a power / could barely tear my eyes away / all you have is your fire / and the place you need to reach / don't you ever tame your demons / but always keep 'em on a leash

004 pumped up kick, foster the people: robert's got a quick hand / he'll look around the room / but won't tell you his plan / he's got a rolled cigarette / hanging out his mouth / he's a cowboy kid, yeah / he found a six-shooter gun / in his dad's closet / and with a box of fun things / i don't even know what / but he's coming for you / yeah, he's coming for you

005 me & the devil, soap & skin : early this morning / when you knocked upon my door / and i say, "hello, satan / i believe, it's time to go" / me and the devil / walking side by side / [...] people dawging me around / must be that old evil spirit / drop me down in your ground / you may bury my body / down by the highway side / you may bury my body / down by the highway side / so my old evil spirit / can greyhound bus that ride

006 i come with knives, iamx: the paradox of our minds / too much to believe / too much to deny / you fool me again to quiet my pride / but i’m a human / i come with knives / i never promised you an open heart or charity / i never wanted to abuse your imagination / i come with knives / i come with knives / and agony / to love you

[sydorax-squid]

Leon and Byron

  Leon and Byron, hatched together from a single egg, were inseparable. One was never seen without the other. They were linked in a way that was unlike even the closest of natural-born twins. It was like they shared a soul. Luckily, the brothers got a job together in town, at the local Mortuary. A very clever thing, they had done. The Mortuary was the perfect place for them. They could collect and save as much blood as their Family could ever need. The town was big enough to have a death every few days, at least. They never ran aground with work, but they never faltered to provide, either. 

  It was around midday when Mrs Watts came in to their care. Mr Beanuit told them to pay her extra mind, she was “a pillar of the community” so they best make her look excellent.

  Leon and Byron smiled, as they always did. 

  Unfortunately, in the midst of their work, their little brother Sammy came into the Mortuary. They could hear him in the lobby, making a fool of himself. The brothers both rolled their eyes. Sammy was at that age, after all. The rebellious phase had begun in him, as it did in all children. 

  Mr Beanuit led Sammy and his little friend into the stark white room, filled with glistening gray tables and tools of their delightfully gruesome trade. Leon saw him first, set down the limp once-pink object in his hand while Byron set down his sharp utensils. 

  Sammy delivered to them a message from Mama, along with a list of demands that she no doubt had intended for Samson to gather for the Family. At the bottom of the list was scrawled in dark graphite the words “Lemon-sinted coffin polish” and “Choclets for Sarah”, though the second was smudged off. 

  “You spelled ‘scented’ and ‘chocolates’ wrong,” Leon commented dully as Byron pocketed the list. 

  “Whatever,” Sammy said before turning on his heel and walking out, his little friend with the patchy clothing walking ahead, though she kept her hand firmly in his. 

  Leon and Byron exchanged looks. 

  Sammy was growing up! 

  Byron wondered what sort of children they would have, would they be winged? Or would they be more like the little girl? Normal and boring? It was an interesting thought, to say the least. 

  “I certainly hope they take after her,” Leon commented, picking up where he left off in Mrs Watts. “At least they’ll be handsome.”

  Byron laughed silently, also resuming his work, the long, shining gray scalpel and locking clamps glinted in the stark white overhead light. 

  It was a few hours before Mrs Watts was done. The brothers were efficient in their work, which was a quality that Mr Beanuit admired. That, and the boys always insisted on handling the disposal of wastes. It wasn’t good to flush all that blood down a drain, they said. Bad for the pipes or some such thing. They had a letter from a waste management professional, so Mr Beanuit trusted them with it. 

  Leon and Byron went out to get the items on the list after loading up four barrels into the back of their truck. They kept their supply at the Mortuary, telling Mr Beanuit that the trip to the waste disposal center was a long one that they preferred to take only once a month. They also borrowed a bottle of the lemon-scented coffin polish from Frank’s hoard, giving him a bottle of brandy in exchange. Frank was well-known for his love of fancy booze. 

  They went to Dale’s and Gaylord’s places, which were a bit out of the way but Mama wanted these things, after all. 

  “What do you suppose Mama wants with thirty clear empty bottles and fourteen bags of grass seed?” Leon asked. Byron didn’t know. But Byron wasn’t one for knowing things. He did know how to drive the car, which he did very well. But he wasn’t really interested in knowing things. He let Leon be the knower. 

  Leon, for his part, sat beside his brother, musing and wondering. He stared out the windshield with eyes not his own, felt the breeze on skin he did not wear, listened to the hum of the engine with ears that did not sit on his head. 

  They drove and drove and drove on home, the 30 or so miles to the House On The Hill where their Family had lived for, oh, 200 years now. Give or take a decade, the brothers weren’t sure. They parked out in front of the door, hurrying inside, a barrel under each arm. 

  “Leon, Byron!” Mama exclaimed happily, poking her head out from the study at the sound of the wind billowing into the old house. The triplets came bounding out, running through the open door into the front yard. They barked and howled as they scampered all around the grassy hills, relishing in the freedom and heat of the afternoon sun. 

  “We brought the blood, Mama,” Leon informed her, hefting the barrels in his arms. Mama glided gracefully to the refrigerator-pantry, opening the heavy door for them. The brothers dropped off their payload with heavy thunks, disturbing their sleeping father. He did not rise from his coffin, though he was certainly going to have a word with them when the sun went down. 

  “My two little worker bees,” Mama cooed lovingly, kissing first Byron then Leon on the head. She always did that, even though she knew only one kiss was ever felt between them. The brothers went out and got the cases of bottles and grass seed, staying together despite the different locations their goods were meant to find. Leon left the glass bottles on the long pepper-wood table before following Byron out to the shed to deposit the bags of seed. 

  Edie was out in the shed, which surprised them. She seemed flustered, as though they had caught her in the act of some terribly embarrassing failure. 

  “Hi, Edie,” Leon said, Byron tilting his head. “What’re you doing out in the shed?”

  “Nothing,” Edie said quickly, grabbing a bag and something small and brown from the floor. She rushed past them, fleeing, her slender legs bounding across the uneven terrain without effort. The brothers shrugged. She was approaching the age of rebellion as well. Perhaps she was keeping a blood pet? That wouldn’t surprise them, the boys themselves had one when they were younger. It seemed to be a phase, at least in their branch of the Family. 

  With everything delivered, the brothers went back inside the brightly-lit house. 

  “Boys,” Mama said, stopping them. “Have you seen Samson?”

  “Earlier,” Leon said. “When he gave us your message. Does Dad want this polish now or later?”

  “Put it in the cabinet, under the sink,” Mama said, watching as Byron went to fulfill her request. Leon fidgeted, feeling incomplete without his brother beside him. He felt as though he wasn’t where he was, in front of Mama. He felt as though he was both by Mama, but his body was by the sink, putting coffin polish by disinfectant spray. He couldn’t see Mama, standing right before him. He couldn’t hear her breathing, feel her touch. Leon wondered where Byron was. 

  “Darling, are you alright?” Mama asked, touching Leon’s face. Leon knew she had touched him, he saw it. He watched her moving from behind, her thick brown hair tumbled down her back to the floor, swaying and flowing with every tiny movement she made. Byron felt his brother’s panic. He stopped staring and ran the short distance back to Leon’s side. With a gasping breath, Leon sighed as Byron returned, his sight and touch and hearing were back.

  “Leon, Byron, how far apart can you too be?” Mama asked them. The brother’s hands interlocked reflexively. “Is it getting worse?”

  “It’s not a problem, Mama,” Leon told her. “It’s how we are.”

  “It’s not safe. What if you two get separated? You need to know how to cope when apart.”

  Byron’s brow furrowed, wordlessly arguing that they’d never be apart. 

  “You can’t predict the future, Byron. You must learn to exist apart. I’m not asking for you to live separate forever, I’m only asking you take the precautions in the event of something terrible. What if you were to fall ill, Byron? What would Leon do then?”

  The brothers looked down at Byron’s feet. As much as they hated it, Mama had a point. She was so very wise, their mother. And they hated that she was right.

  “We’ll work on it later, after Uncle Tim and Aunt Hilda leave.”

  “Okay, darlings,” Mama said, smiling warmly. She gave them both a kiss again, despite it only being felt once. “Go rouse Sarah, tell her to find Samson. He’s too far away from me, can’t hear my call.”

  “Sure, Mama,” the boys acknowledged, walking together up the stairs to Sarah’s bedroom. They felt a growing unease in their stomachs, an anxiety about the future and their places in it. Two bodies, two minds, one voice and one set of senses shared between them. 

END.

[completeoveranalysis]

Thought you'd appreciate this: a great, tiny small business opened up near me and they sell all kinds of rare and second hand anime merch, and I cleaned them out of their clamp. My haul: a magic knight rayearth poster, the first volume of clamp school paranormal investigators, the tsubasa/holic double feature, and a deck of rg veda themed playing cards. I am, SO hype

Incredible!

Honestly that's the dream scenario and I'm so happy you managed to get your hands on all those nice finds! The sacred CLAMP treasures!

[wonderwomanfantasy]

belly of the beast

good lord anon you're going to kill me

bakugou x Dragon! Reader

warnings: breading kink, mommy kink, choking, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk

word count: 1,000 (about)

summary: breeding kink pwp

“Katsuki, please help,” you moaned, your face buried in your pillows, your ass up swaying in the air tempting him. He blinked and tried hard not to look at your dripping wet cunt, but his eyes keep drifting back. His cock throbbed in his shorts. If he was in his right mind he would have yelled at you for surprising him like this, but something clearly was up, and he had to help you.

“How?” he gulped.

“Breed me please Katsuki I need it,” you cried. You looked over your shoulder at him, eyes wide and glossy silently begging him.

Bakugou knew that your quirk was weird and affected you in weird ways. Even though Dragons weren’t real creatures, you still shared a lot of their characteristics. You ran hot, you loved and hoarded shinney things, and patches of scales littered your body. You’d joked around that you even went into heat like an animal, only it seemed like you weren’t joking.

Bakugou let himself look at your sex. Wettnes dripped down your plump thighs your pretty pussy throbbing with need. He took a step forward and unbuckled his belt.

“Dumbass, were you waiting for just anyone to walk in on you like this?” he growled, shoving his pants down and climbing onto the bed with you. All of his words were in one ear out the other. Katsuki was coming to fuck you, stuff you full of his cum, breed you. Bakugou climbed on top of you and rolled you over knocking you on your back. You fell back willingly, your legs spread wide open. Bakugou smacked your pussy, reveling in the way you mewled and the wet sound that resulted.

“You want me to breed you? What makes you think you’ve earned that brat?” he growled grabbing both of your thighs and hiking your legs up, pressing your knees to your chest. He was trying desperately to keep control of this situation so you couldn’t tell how turned on he was just from seeing you naked. Your eyes went wide with panic.

“No- Katsuki please please I need it I need your cock,” you cried out you reached out and tried to grab at him, but Katsuki easily dodged your grasp.

“I know you want it- but what have you done to earn it?” he asked. You looked so broken he almost felt bad for teasing you like this. Almost.

“I’ll do anything Katsu baby please please I need it, I’ll be such a good mommy just please fill me up,” you begged. Something short-circuited in his brain. It was one thing for you to ask him to fuck you, it was another thing to ask for him to give you a family. You were both in your late 20s and had been married for a short while now would be the perfect time to have kids.

He kissed you cutting off your string of rambling pleading. Your body responded to his instantly. You kissed him back and threw your arms around his neck holding his body as close to your ass you could. Bakugou moaned as you shifted your hips grinding against his cock making him grunt.

“Please,” you moaned one last time as Katsuki broke away and kissed your neck. Fuck. he wanted to tease you some more but you were so damn irresistible. Bakugou palmed his cock a few times before pushing inside of you.

You moaned loudly and clamped down around his cock so tight that he couldn’t move. Your pussy was always so warm and ready to take him but this was an entirely new experience.

“Relax baby I can’t fucking move,” he snapped. You reached behind yourself and gripped the bedpost so hard the wood cracked.

“I’m going to cum,” you whispered. Jesus christ he just pushed in this whole heat thing must be serious shit if you were that sensitive. At least that took some of the pressure off of him, your pussy was so wet and tight he also felt like he would cum any second. You did your best to relax but your throbbing walls still clamped around him, but he’d have to make do.

“Don’t hold back baby, cum on my cock and I’ll fill you up,” he ordered slowly pulling back and thrusting back inside of you as hard and deep as he could.

“Fuck Katsuki Katsuki-” you cried out the wood splintering in your fists. He’d be scared if he wasn’t so turned on. He let go of your thighs and gripped your throat with both hands choking you. Your legs fell around his waist holding him close limiting his movement and ensuring he’d cum inside of you and fill you with his seed.

A thin line of droll trailed down your chin your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he rammed in and of you. He felt you cum around his cock, your walls throbbing around him trying to milk his cock.

“Yeah, that’s it baby, cum. Cum for me, yeah you dirty slut cumming just like that,” he snarled. You let out a strangled moan as if you agreed with him.

Despite his initial reservations, Katsuki quickly fell into a groove and knew he could last as long as you needed him to. You ended up cumming three more times on his dick before he felt even close to his release.

He had you on your hands and knees, face down ass up just like how he’d found you. He had a fist full of your hair and yanked on it every couple of minutes just to hear you scream. A bead of sweat fell down Bakugou’s forehead popping in a small explosion from exertion.

“You still want my cum bitch?” he grunted

“Yes! Fuck yes Katsuki please Please!!” you shouted bucking your hips back pushing your ass flush against his pelvis. He smacked your ass as a warning.

“Then fucking take it you slut.” Bakugou couldn’t help but moan when he came. It felt good to unload inside of you instead of pulling out and letting his cum paint your skin.

For the first time since he’d been home, you settled down although you snapped at him when he tried to pull out so the two of you ended up cuddling with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Do you want to explain what the fuck that was?” Katsuki asked and you smiled at him, embarrassed.

“My heat,”

“Why haven’t you ever gone into heat before?”

“It only happens when I have a mate,” you explained.

“And now that you’re nice and bred will it happen again?”

“Only if I don’t get pregnant from this,” oh boy. Well, it was a good thing Bakugou was a family man.

[luimagines]

Cheesy Pick-Up Lines

Masterlist

Can’t get more self explanatory than this folks.

For Wind’s scenario, the reader is the same age.

Very cheesy lines up ahead. Viewer discretion is advised.

Time

“Do you believe in love at first sight- or I need to walk by again?” You raise an eyebrow at Time with a smirk and a cocky pose with a hand on your hip.

He looks down at you and fails to stop his own smirk in time.

However Time does not answer you.

You bite you tongue, a little frustrated at the lack of reaction and try with a different one. “You know if sexy was a crime, you’d be found guilty as charged.”

You wink this time for good measure.

Time snorts and shakes his head. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“...Trying to get you to blush.” You admit with a shy grin and a shrug.

“You’re going to have to do more than that.” His smirk grows.

“You could be a little cooperative.” You mutter and pout.

“Your lines need a little more work.” He begins to make his way toward you. “But there’s a golden rule to this that you should learn if you want a place to start.”

“Hey! What do you-” You stop short and gulp slightly as Time gets into your personal space. “...know...?”

Time takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and tilts your head up. It’s a gentle touch that catches you off guard and makes you feel smaller than you usually do when you’re next to him. He stares right into your eyes and your forced to do the same.

“Here’s the thing.” He begins and you swear his voice drops an octave. “I don’t consider myself a religious man... But when I first laid my eyes on you I knew that you were the answers to my prayers.”

Time lets you go and begins to walk away as if that never happened. “Delivery is key.”

You look after him, heart pounding, a little breathless and feeling the heat of his breath on your face still. Or maybe the heat is your blush.

Oh it’s on now.

Twilight

“Excuse me, Sir Twilight.” You wave to your friend and smile easily when he gives you his attention. “I am in need of a map.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“I-... Come on man, you don’t have to rain on my parade.” You pout slightly and refuse to give in when he chuckles at your theatrics.

“Oh, my apologies. What do you need a map for?” He smiles and places his hands on his hips.

“It appears I’ve gotten lost.” You hold your head up high and step closer to him.

“How? I’m right here. How are you lost?”

“I’ve gotten lost in your eyes.” You wink and faint on him slightly. “They’re just like the ocean! I’d gladly swim in them all day!”

Twilight pushes you off gently and flicks your forehead.

“Ow.”

“You’ll live. You’ve got thick skin.” He grins. “It’s not as thick as my shirt however. It’s made out of something not found just anywhere.”

“Oh yeah?” You rub the spot gently. “What’s it made of then country boy? Goat hair?”

“Oh you know... It’s boyfriend material.” He says with a shrug and spins around to walk away. 

“Oh haha...” You smirk and walk a little faster to catch up to him. “Of course it is. Before you go, do you mind holding this for me?”

You stick your clenched hand out next to Twilight and he holds his own hand out without any thought to it. “Sure what is it?”

You don’t answer and instead place your hand down in his, unfurl your fingers and lace them with his. “Thanks, it was getting heavy.”

He snorts but continues to hold it for the rest of the walk.

Wild

“Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you I smile!” You jump on Wild’s back and hug him from behind, a laugh on your breath and a grin on your face.

Wild laughs as well and grabs your arms, spinning around for a moment before letting you fall. “That was cheesy.”

“It was supposed to be.” You wink.

“Do you even have a camera?” Wild rolls his eyes.

“That has nothing to do with what I said.” You pout slightly and put your hands on your hips. “But I know you do. You’re really good at using it to.”

“Not that good.”

“Wild you have natural talent, a gift if you will, at taking photos.” You nudge him with your arm and mockingly bow. 

“I’m wouldn’t consider myself a photographer.”

“But incredibly good at taking them in the moment.”

“I suppose so.” Wild shrugs and tosses a cocky smile in your direction. ”I mean, I can definitely picture us together.”

You bite you lip in an attempt to hide your growing grin. “Do you have any raisins?”

“Nope.”

“How about dates?”

“None of those either.”

“Want to go on one with me?”

Wild pauses mid-step and blinks for a moment before turning to you. “Oh, you’re good.”

Sky

“What is it that you do for fun back in your home world?” Sky asks as your both walking through the forest for the day. 

Grin and tilt your head in his direction. “I’m studying to become a historian. I’m especially interested in finding a date.” You send him a wink. 

He scoffs but smiles good naturedly. “Of course. Naturally.”

“You?”

“I like the ride my loftwing through the sky and see the view. I wish I could show you guys but...”

“Maybe when we get there.” You nudge his shoulder and point up to the clouds above you. “Hopefully the skies look better there than here.”

“It’s absolutely is.” He looks up as well and you look over to him.

You lean in a little and snap, a large smile on your face. “I think I figured it out!”

“What?”

“No wonder the sky is grey- all the color is in your eyes.”

Sky bites his lip and puts his hand to his face to hide his growing smile and blush as he laughs. “Stop.”

“Did the sun just come out or did you smile at me?”

“Oh my god!”

Hyrule

“Hyrule, I have a question that I think only you can answer.” You say and wrap your arm around his shoulders.

This takes him by surprise and he’s quick to offer his assistance. “What is it?”

“You’re pretty good with magic right?”

“I know a few spells, sure, but if it’s about magic as a whole? You might better off with Legend.” Hyrule shrugs and offers an apologetic smile.

“But my question is about your magic.” You stress and poke his chest. “You see, before I get to where I’m going, let me ask you this. Are you a magician?”

“...I’d consider myself more a mage?” He tilts his head.

“Ok, prefect, explain this to me then, if you’d be so kind.” You can’t help but grin wildly. “Why is it then, that I’m looking at you, you make everyone else disappear?”

“I...I don’t know.’ Hyrule blushes all the way down to his neck and scratches it bashfully. He takes a minute to compose himself before grinning and tossing you a shy side eye. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“Believe me, you’re the sweet one. You’re giving me a toothache over here!”

Hyrule shoves you away then and clamps his hands over his face but from what he doesn’t cover, you can see the wide grin from behind his hands.

Mission accomplished.

Legend

“You take that back Fancy Pants!” Legend shouted. “Or I’ll toss right into the heart of Death Mountain!”

“You couldn’t.” Warrior rolled his eyes. “Not without your oh- so- powerful bracelets and rings and hoard of items.”

“If I could change the alphabet, I’d put F and U together!”

Warrior snorted and walked away. “Just admit that you lost and leave it at that. There’s no need to embarrass yourself further.”

“You-!” 

You sighed and walked up to where Legend was left fuming. “Great come back.”

“Shut up!”

“I wouldn’t take what he says to heart.” You shrug and smile at him. “I think he just gets a kick out of your reactions.”

“That brainless, boorish-”

“You want to know something?” You cut him off before he could go on a cursing spree for the next hour.

“Sure.” He spits. “Hit me with it. What do I care.” 

“If I could change of the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” You grin widely and wait for his reaction.

But you don’t get one.

Instead he stares at you unamused with his arms crossed and face flat. “Ok, I think I get what he means now.”

“What?” You raise and eyebrow and scoff. “Is that not good enough for you? Ok. How about this one then? You have so many items. Any chance that you have an extra heart? Mine’s been stolen!”

You complete the sentence with throwing yourself onto his side, hand on your forehead and looking up at him with the most blissful expression you can manage.

He snorts a little, forgetting his previous sour attitude and shoves you off.

“That’s low hanging fruit.” 

“Geeze tough crowd.” You brush yourself off and grin at him. “Despite that, I have to say, even though we’re not socks, I think we’d make a great pair!”

“You’re impossible.” He smiles a little easier and begins to walk away.

Well, he might have missed your point but at least he was feeling better.

Four

You sigh and run your hand through your hair. It’s wet and sticking to your face as you get out of the lake.

Four is there on the other side and you find yourself grinning.

Despite the way everything seems to be sticking to you, you jog to where he is and stop in front of him. “Here I am! What are your other two wishes?”

He snorts and glances in your direction. He stills suddenly and no so subtlety looks you up and down.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s a good thing I brought my library card.” He says in response.

“You have your what now?”

“Because I am totally checking you out.”

You blink and laugh. Because yes, you are soaking wet and all your clothes are sticking to your figure. 

“Huh.” You roll your eyes and sit next to him in the sun to dry off faster. “This spot open?”

“Go right on ahead.”

“I think I have something wrong with my eyes.” You grin.

“Wait, really?” He spin in his spot to look into them as if that’ll make or break the problem. “What’s the problem?”

“I just can’t seem to take them off of you.” 

Four goes red immediately and shoves you away with one hand on his face and other on yours. “Ok, you win.”

Warrior

“So aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” You slide up to where Warrior was sitting and lean on his shoulder, waiting for his reaction to your line.

He turns his head to look at you and you show him your cheesiest smile and he rolls his eyes.

“Wow...I’ve never heard that one before.” He snorts, letting it slide.

It clicks then that, that could have gone really bad considering it’s Warrior and he’s probably dealt with all kinds of harassments. But you count your lucky stars that he appears to be humoring you and isn’t offended at least.

“Alright, tough guy, what’s your best one?” You challenge and sit next to him.

“Really?”

“Yes. Prove me wrong. Go on. Do it.”

Warrior looks down at the ground for a second and looks back at you with that trade marked smirk, you associate him with. “Are you sure you can fire one back though? I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Why on earth would I be tired? It’s the middle of the day.”

“You were running through my mind all night. So, you must be tired. ” He says casually and looks away.

The blush is instantaneous on your face and you have to cough and look away from his stupid-charming face. That one... has a lot of implications..... depending on the audience..

A moment of silence passes and he laughs a little quietly under his breath. “That’s it? That’s all it took?”

“No.” You squeak and look at him head on.

Your blush still hasn’t gone away.

“I just...”

Warrior continues smirking. He’s enjoying this. “Cat got your tongue?”

You huff and look at the supplies in front of you. “It’s hardly my fault.”

“Sure it is.”

“You’re so beautiful that you made me forget my pick up line.”

Warrior stills and coughs in a similar manner that you did only seconds ago.

Now you’re both blushing messes.

Wind

“Hey Wind!” You call and run up to his side. “I just figured something out!”

“What is it?” Wind stops mid step and waits for you to reach his side.

You’re a little out of breath from running the distance but you grin wildly at him. “If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

He snorts and shoves you away slightly, continuing to walk along the trail behind the others. You can hear some of the older ones chuckles but you’re determined.

“I think out of everyone, you’re the cute one here, actually.” Wind smiles in your direction and it throws you off of your rhythm for a moment.

Enough so that you actually trip and fall on the trail, pain shooting from your knee.

“Woah, hey, are you ok?” Wind jogs back to you and helps you up.

You hiss and look at the damage. As far as scrapes go, it’s not that bad, but you are bleeding a little.

“Do you have a bandage?” You blink up at Wind. “I just scraped my knee falling for you.”

He blinked a bit, stunned and confused before a lightbulb seems to go in his head and he blushes brightly. He chuckles and places a hand be the back of his neck. Wind then gets down to his knees next to you and brushes the dirt from your knee. He’s very cute when he’s bashful, you think.

“Let me see what I have in my pack.” He says with a bright grin.

It’s not like the others are watching this all go down or anything.... 

They don’t say anything though, less they ruin the tenderness of budding crushes.

[writertitan]

Grandfather Clock (III)

pairing: levi x f!reader

word count: 7068 (oops)

themes:  adult f!reader, arranged marriage, multi-part fic, levi is a stubborn asshole at first, no love at first sight here folks

a/n: the final part!! enjoy!!!

Read Part 1 Here

Read Part 2 Here

On the 20th day of Levi’s engagement to you, he found himself tense, frowning, and sitting across a less than pleased Erwin, right in the commander’s office. 

Erwin sat at his desk, deep discontent written all over his face, with his arms folded tightly across his broad chest. 

Levi knew the scolding was coming and cursed himself in his head for being so careless. He hadn’t really meant too much by it. Mike had just been asking him how things were going as they walked down the hall together and the words had just tumbled out. Levi didn’t like talking about his personal life in general, mostly because he had hardly had one prior to getting engaged, but now he was extra wary. 

“Not much to tell. Just thankful she agreed not to have an actual wedding and to prolong it as long as possible.” 

That was all he’d said and he’d said it with a tone of finality that Mike understood well. It was the tone that warned not to push it any farther. 

It was just Levi’s luck that Erwin had rounded the corner as the words left him. The commander had bristled as he processed what Levi had said and then blurted out that he needed to see the shorter man immediately, in his office. 

Levi had never seen Mike hurry off so quickly before. 

And now here he was, tense and waiting for Erwin to lash out at him. 

The words came moments later, but Levi didn’t get yelled at, which made him feel worse. Erwin was quiet, stern, and very open with his disappointment. 

“Is it true? You really asked that of her?” 

“Yes,” Levi sighed, running a hand over his tired face. “I did.” 

“You didn’t even consult me about it. Levi, I hope you know I’m trying to grant you as much freedom as I can in this situation, but this was out of line. I’m sorry, but you don’t have that kind of say.” 

Erwin’s words made Levi wince a little, but he tried to keep a stoic face. He could see that the commander was waiting for him to say something, but Levi didn’t quite know what to say. 

He thought of you for a moment, and thought about how confused he’d been lately, and then looked at Erwin with a hint of a frown. 

“You’ve hardly given us any freedom,” he blurted out, and then cursed himself yet again. He’d used the word “us” instead of “me” and he knew that Erwin would catch wind of that. 

He did, and he even seemed to soften up a bit, raising a brow curiously. 

And then Erwin used you as ammunition. 

“You’ve stripped away any semblance of choice left for her by making her agree to your terms. She has even less freedom than you. Is that what you wanted?” Erwin asked, but the question was more rhetorical than anything. 

Levi’s frown grew deeper. His mind went back to you, how broken you’d looked when he’d said he didn’t want a wedding day, and how he wanted to wait as long as possible to actually be married. And then his mind took him to that day you were feeling unwell, and how that same broken expression appeared when he’d gotten upset with you. 

His chest grew heavy when he realized he had helped in breaking you. 

And even worse, he hadn’t gone back to visit you after that day, when you had fainted. It had spurred too many mixed emotions in him and he had wanted the space to clear his head. And you had confirmed you were still unwell in your most recent letter to him from yesterday. 

But maybe you were lying. Maybe Levi had broken you so much that you wanted to start keeping your distance from him. 

That’s what he wanted, right? 

Is that what you wanted?

Erwin’s unanswered question echoed in his mind. 

If that was what he’d wanted, why did he feel this way, so horrible, after being called out by Erwin? 

“I just don’t know what to do,” Levi finally said, unable to meet Erwin’s gaze. 

Erwin hummed and sat back in his chair, arms now unfolded as he looked at Levi. The conversation had gone way beyond Levi’s little mistake. As much as he wanted to help his friend, there was a reason Erwin had been wandering the halls. He had, in fact, been searching for Levi. And he had, in fact, been wanting to discuss the topic of you. It had been mere coincidence that Erwin had caught Levi’s confession. 

“Talk to her,” Erwin said, eyes on Levi, who was still looking anywhere but at him. “And I’d suggest going today. There was a reason I’ve been looking for you.” 

At that, Levi flickered his eyes to Erwin, a hint of curiosity in them. And, dare Erwin say, even a little bit of worry hid behind the silver. 

“Well, spit it out,” Levi said, already making to stand up. “What happened? Is something wrong?” 

Erwin also stood up, slowly and deliberately, and didn’t know how to answer that. 

“There’s been some...civil unrest recently. Some of the working class citizens have been getting riled up because of some recent unfortunate events with the upper class,” Erwin explained, watching carefully for Levi’s reaction. “Some of my intel has told me there’s talk of a few riots being planned.” 

“What kind of ‘unfortunate events’ are you talking about?” Levi pressed, arms at his side with hands clenched into fists. This didn’t sound good. 

“Seems like your fiancee’s father has been in some bad business deals that affected a lot of his workforce. And he’s got quite the workforce, if you remember,” Erwin murmured, looking a little thoughtful as he tried to gage Levi’s reaction. “I was looking for you to tell you that I’d like for you to go and check on things. I’m not sure how extreme the situation is.” 

Levi was already halfway out of the office and didn’t bother to answer. He was, without a doubt, upset. 

Upset that Erwin didn’t let him know about this immediately. 

Upset that it would take a while to get to you. 

And, curiously, he was upset that he was upset. What the hell was going on with him? 

-

In your parlor room, you were curled up on the sofa and reading your favorite book. It took all your willpower to try not to think about how, just a few days ago, Levi had touched those very same pages. 

He’d kept his distance since then, though you had certainly had some part in that by sending him a note to say you were still sick. It wasn’t true at all and you’d felt almost back to normal the next day, but you couldn’t really face Levi yet. Despite forgiving him and allowing yourself to have a little bit of hope that things would turn out okay for the two of you, it was obvious that Levi was still on the fence with you, and had a very specific opinion about who you were despite not getting to know you. 

You were using this time away from him to think of ways to show him that you weren’t that way at all, and that his impression of you was, truthfully, completely off the mark. 

As the grandfather clock sounded off at noon, it brought you back to reality. You set your book down, not that you’d actually been reading much of it, and sighed when your stomach grumbled. Definitely lunchtime. 

You stood up and stretched, about to walk to the kitchen and bother Chef Erlo when you realized something seemed...off. 

The clock struck noon for a final time and you realized that that was the only sound you could really hear from all over the house. Silence engulfed you when the grandfather clock stopped, and you peered out into the hallway, baffled when you saw absolutely nobody in sight. 

Feeling like you couldn’t break the silence, you stayed quiet as a mouse as you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to hear the usual bustle of noise there for lunch. Maybe that’s where everyone was. It was lunchtime, after all. Had you forgotten it was somebody’s birthday? Sometimes you’d sneak the staff into the servant’s quarters for a bit of a break and have a little birthday celebration during lunch, but you were sure nobody’s big day was today.

But you didn’t make it to the kitchen. As you got closer to the foyer, you could hear the commotion outside, interrupting the eerie silence in your home. Instead of going to check on things, curiosity got the best of you and you ended up peering out the window to see what was going on. A little gasp left your lips when you saw what was outside. 

Hoards of people were at the gates of your home, screaming and shouting profanities as they tried to make their way inside. Your heart sped up at the sight, absolutely terrified at the pure hatred they all wore on their faces. You couldn’t really make out what they were all saying, but you heard the profanities, and you heard your father’s name enough times to know that this was personal. 

The guards situated outside at the gate were pushing back as much as they could, and you even see that some of the Garrison soldiers had come to help out, but the crowd seemed to be growing bigger and bigger by the second. At any moment, it would bubble over and spill past the gates of your home. 

Right to you. 

Once again, after a lifetime of avoiding your father and his business to try and escape it, you were being dragged right into the middle of it instead. 

You had to run. The anger outside was something that was almost tangible; you could feel it weighing heavily in the air even from where you stood inside your home. No doubt that someone would try to hurt you just in the belief that it would hurt your father to know they’d gotten to you. 

For a brief moment, Levi flashed through your mind, and you sincerely regretted lying to him about still feeling unwell when his face popped to the front of your head. Maybe he would have helped you. Maybe not. The anger you could feel from the crowd outside was unfortunately similar to the anger Levi had bestowed upon you just a few days ago. 

As you backed away from the window, you thought of all the different places you could go to hide. So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t register the footsteps sneaking up behind you and gasped when a hand clamped against your mouth to keep you quiet. 

Before you could try and scream, a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Shh, it’s only me. Let’s go.” 

You whirled around, tears of relief springing to your eyes as you hugged Greta tightly. 

“Greta,” you breathed out shakily, pulling away to look at her with wide eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“Let’s not talk here, come on,” she whispered, tugging you towards the servant’s quarters, where you knew the wine cellar was situated. As soon as the door was closed and locked behind the two of you, Greta practically dragged you down the stairs. It was cooler down there and you shivered involuntarily. 

There was dim candlelight at the end of the steps that lit up a narrow hallway, one that led towards a heavy wooden door. Chef Erlo was there holding a candelabra with one hand, a silver key in the other. 

Your tears of relief spilled over at the sight of him. 

“Erlo,” you whimpered, moving to hug him as well. He was just as quick about it as Greta was, gently stepping away from you with a small and sympathetic smile. 

“We’ll get you out of here safely, miss,” he promised you. 

A pang of fear hit you and you looked between Erlo and Greta, hand at your chest as you thought of the worst. 

“And everyone else? Is everyone okay?” you asked them.

From above, you heard glass shattering and heavy thumps. Your heart pounded so hard against your chest that you worried your ribs would crack from the force. The fear you felt in that moment was unparalleled, unmatched by any other situation in your life. You’d never been this scared in your entire life. 

“Everyone is safe. Except for you,” Greta said, and she nodded for Erlo to open the door. He unlocked it and hurried you both inside, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw Erlo wasn’t following. 

“I’m going to lock the door behind me and slip the key under the crack. That should buy you some time,” he said to Greta, avoiding your gaze. 

“What are you talking about? You’re coming with us, it’s not safe here! Something’s happening outside, people are angry and I don’t know why,” you rambled, tearing up again. Greta reached over to squeeze your hand, but everything about it was rushed, too hurried to really be a comfort to you. 

Erlo flashed you another small smile, and then gave you a wink, his crow’s feet prominent as he finally flashed his goofy smile. 

“I’ll be fine, miss. Don’t worry about me. It’s not me they’re after,” he assured you, but it didn’t make you feel any better. 

Chef Erlo was like the father you’d never had. It was impossible to allow him to do this, but Greta held you back as he shut the door and locked it once again, with the key slipping underneath moments later. 

Greta let go of you to swipe it off the ground, and then began to push you forward, nearly in the dark save for cracks of light at the door opposite the room. 

The faint smell of wine permeated the air and you found yourself wishing for a glass to calm your nerves. Greta led you to the door in just a few moments flat, using the same key to unlock it and hurry through with you in tow. 

It was the bulkhead entrance to the wine cellar, where the merchants would come deliver or take some wine. Part of your father’s business. It was where a lot of things were delivered. On the few steps there beneath the wooden doors, there was a maid’s dress and some worn shoes. One look at Greta told you that the new outfit was for you, so you wasted no time in nearly tearing off your dress and kicking off your shoes to put on the much simpler garments and better blend in outside without striking too much attention to yourself. Your current outfit would have been a dead giveaway to your status. 

Greta lifted one of the doors up just enough to peer out cautiously as you changed, making sure it was safe to leave. Once she was sure it was, she nodded to you and lifted the door up quietly, keeping it lifted for you to hop up the short steps and out into the spring afternoon. 

It was cloudy outside, threatening to rain. As if on cue, a crack of thunder sounded and you felt it was remarkably similar to a cliche in your favorite novel; it always rained whenever your favorite character was feeling upset. 

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Greta gripped you by the elbow and tugged you away from the house in a pace that was rushed but not too much that it looked suspicious. Now that you were wearing new clothes, you looked like everyone else outside. There was no real need to rush and risk getting caught. 

Nobody paid the two of you any mind. The real focus was on your house that was currently getting ransacked. 

The sight made your heart sink to your stomach, but your tears had already dried. 

It was true that these people were destroying the only home you’d ever known. It was true that in that moment, you were sure you’d never go back to it. But you just couldn’t find it in you to cry about this. Your tears were reserved for your staff and worrying about their wellbeing. 

Whatever your father had done, it probably deserved this level of outrage. 

Although you were filled to the brim with fear and adrenaline, above all, you felt a peculiar sense of freedom as more and more people pushed their way past the gates of your home to run inside. 

Greta gave you a moment to watch the scene before steering you away with promises to explain everything as soon as she got you to safety. 

The only time tears actually did threaten your eyes again was when Captain Levi’s face pushed its way into your mind once more. 

Maybe you would never see him again. And maybe he’d like that. 

-

Levi was all too familiar with feeling dread settle in his stomach and harden like a rock. He’d experienced it all his life, countless times as he watched comrades die, often such a big part of his nightmares and the reason for his insomnia. 

He didn’t expect to feel that rock in his stomach as he approached your home. Rather, what was left of it. 

But he felt it settle in his stomach, a dread so heavy that he almost had to hunch over, and he looked on in horror as people continued to run in and out of your home. Many people were running out with valuables in their arms. Others were running inside just to destroy everything in sight. 

He was far too late, by the look of things. 

His eyes darted around, a futile attempt to locate you, but of course he didn’t see you anywhere. 

Soldiers and guards were doing what they could, and Levi could see reinforcements marching in, but it was too late. 

It was too late. 

Levi hopped off his horse and pushed past people and soldiers alike as he ran into your home, taking in the sight of broken glass and ruined furniture and banged up walls. 

It was disgusting. 

He went to your room first and only found it ravaged and empty with no signs of life. 

Levi knew he was being crazy. Of course he wasn’t going to just find you there. In fact, the thought of seeing you in the middle of all this would have actually been worse. But not knowing where you were had his stomach in knots. 

As a last resort, he checked the parlor room, where you’d shared an afternoon that had left Levi questioning himself and questioning you. Mostly himself. 

He got there as the grandfather clock chimed at the top of the hour. It was just as ravaged as your room, but curiously enough, he noticed your favorite novel on the ground by where the side table used to be. 

He picked it up and clutched it tightly, and then made a promise. 

He would find you and he would get your book back to you. It was the only possession you had left in the world, he realized, looking around. 

He’d find you. 

He wouldn’t rest until he’d found you. 

-

A cup of tea warmed your hands as silence filled the room of Greta’s mother’s kitchen. 

The two women stared at you with so much sympathy, and so much worry, that it made you feel loved and yet also a little small at the same time. 

Greta had just finished explaining everything to you. 

Your father had been atrocious, and had taken advantage of his employees. He was in protective custody because he’d anticipated this riot to happen. Nobody knew where your mother was. It was a miracle that Greta and Erlo had managed to help you and everyone else out before you’d gotten hurt. Or killed. 

And now you didn’t know what would happen next. 

Your spirits, already low, dimmed even more at the thought of Chef Erlo. You desperately hoped he was okay, and hopefully he was. After all, he’d been correct: nobody was trying to hurt him. Only you and your family. 

“Are you sure everybody made it out safely?” you whispered to Greta, who immediately nodded. 

“Everyone’s been aware of some of the...tensions around town,” she explained. “We all had an exit plan in the works, just didn’t realize we’d have to implement it so soon.” 

You flashed a brief and sad smile, nodding once as you took a sip of your tea. 

“Thank you for getting everyone out safely first. It means the world to me.” 

In your mind, you were just as responsible for your father’s sins as he was. To think you didn’t even have a clue of what was going on. It was embarrassing. 

As if reading your mind, Greta’s mother, May, reached forward to squeeze your arm reassuringly. 

“It’s not your fault, darling,” she murmured. “It wasn’t your place to know.” 

You sighed softly and kept your eyes on your tea, frowning to yourself. It was true that you had basically been forced to be cooped up in the house, and now you were thinking there was a clear reason behind it now. You hardly had much say in your day to day schedule, especially after getting engaged to Captain Levi. Still, it didn’t feel good to be so in the dark. 

And the thought of Captain Levi sent your heart aflutter. Did he know? Had he been aware of this the whole time? Was this part of the reason for your arrangement? 

Slowly, you picked up your gaze from your tea to settle on Greta, biting the inside of your cheek before asking the question you were dreading to ask. 

“What happens now?” 

She didn’t look too sure either as she pondered your question, finally settling for shrugging her shoulders. 

“I don’t know, miss,” she answered honestly. “I hate to say it, but it depends on your father. He and your mother will start looking for you once they realize you’re missing.” 

The thought made you nauseous. Despite such a horrible outcome of your day, that peculiar feeling of freedom had been what kept you going. There was some sort of thrill attached to it. 

You realized it was achingly similar to the hope you felt for your arrangement for Levi. The chance of things looking up, turning around. 

All this hope and nothing to show for it. 

Now you were hopeless. 

-

News had gotten to Erwin quickly. Levi saw the commander ride in with other squad leaders as he helped beat down and arrest some of the rowdier citizens at your home. He hated to be there and wanted to go off and find you more than anything, but someone there had to have seen you, or seen what happened to you. 

So far, nobody seemed to remember seeing you. In fact, some people had sworn to him that the house had been empty of people the entire time. Not a soul in the home at all. 

When Erwin stepped past the gates, Levi had never wanted to pummel him so badly. Instead, he shoved a badly beaten merchant towards his commander with a growl, eyes nearly feral as he found the calm blue ones that he hated more than anything at the moment. 

“You said there was civil unrest. You didn’t say there was an entire fucking mob,” he snapped. 

Erwin remained calm, casually stepping over the merchant to get closer to Levi. 

“Seems I was deceived,” he admitted, looking around. “Her father kept me in the dark. I had no idea about any of this. But I suppose you’ll be pleased to hear that I’m calling off the deal. We can’t tarnish the Scouts’ reputation even more by doing business with this family.” 

Levi’s body went cold at the news. 

Just a couple of weeks ago, he would have felt nothing but pure relief. Now, he felt nothing but pure dread. 

“What about…?” 

Levi couldn’t even say your name. It caught at the back of his throat and he struggled to breathe. He tried his best to remain as stoic as always, but Erwin knew him so well, and could see the concern at the edges of Levi’s gaze. 

“There’s not much protection we can offer her, being her father’s daughter. She’s under his control,” Erwin reminded him. “Do you know where she is? I heard she’s declared missing.” 

Levi nodded once to confirm, his worry amplifying at Erwin’s words. 

He couldn’t protect you. Not while you were still affiliated with your father. 

“People are saying that nobody was in the house,” Levi said, giving the commander a rundown of events. “I did a quick search, didn’t find any of the staff. No one was around.” 

Erwin hummed a little, hands behind his back as he took in the sight of the damaged house in front of him. 

“No surprise there. Our man of the hour is already in protective custody, having predicted this well before anyone else, and his wife was visiting with a friend, and now they’re all in protective custody as well. It’s just your ex-fiancee that we’re having trouble locating. Perhaps she’s with her staff.” 

How stupid of him. Levi hadn’t really thought of that possibility yet. He’d been so focused on finding you, assuming the worst, that he hadn't taken the time to really think it through enough to realize that you were missing along with the staff. 

Erwin was already five steps ahead of them. 

“Some of the scouts are off to find the staff members that don’t live here in-house. One of them is bound to know where she is.” 

Levi couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that left him, but he still felt useless if he wasn’t doing more to help. Without another word to Erwin, he marched off to do another quick search around the entire perimeter. 

Some medics had come onto the scene as well and he was surprised to see a couple of them towards the back of the house, dragging someone out of the cellar. Levi had admittedly not really looked down there, knowing all there was, was food storage and wine cellar that someone had told him was all cleared out by now. 

A familiar old man was getting dragged out and treated. He was badly beaten, bruised from head to toe, and his breathing was raspy and uneven. 

Levi knew him to be a staff member and his heart skipped a beat. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was kneeling beside the old man, shaking him to get his attention despite the angry protests of a medic. 

The old man opened his eyes and grimaced, but his face grew soft at the sight of Levi. 

“Captain Levi,” he greeted him in a hoarse voice. “You’re a little late, don’t you think?” 

“Where is she?” Levi asked, voice soft. “Do you know?” 

“I know,” the man confirmed, nodding slowly as his eyes closed. “Greta...Greta took her. She’s...with Greta’s mother. But don’t know where...she lives.” 

Greta. Levi knew that name. It was the name of one of the maids. You looked to be friends with her. 

“Thank you,” he said, very sincere, before standing back up. More determined than ever, he made a beeline for his horse, a plan of action already formulating in his mind. He could make do with the information given to him. It was all he needed. 

He was going to find you. 

-

The sun hung low in the sky as May and Greta made up Greta’s old bed for you. 

You had insisted on sleeping anywhere else, even the floor, but Greta had already set her mind on sharing a bed with her mother. 

“I shared a bed with one of the other maids all the time, whenever we felt like it,” she told you. “I actually like it. It’s nice having another person there with you.” 

You still felt a little guilty but stayed silent, and opted instead to watch the sun lower through the window of Greta’s childhood bedroom after being shooed off. 

Greta and her mother chattered amongst themselves and you didn’t have the heart to join in just yet. You felt so drained after the day’s events that you couldn’t muster up the energy they had. 

What kept you so anxious was also the thought of having to stay under your father’s thumb. 

It was maddening to know that after everything, he still had your life in his hands. To be a highborn lady was to be in shackles. 

A plan was starting to formulate in your mind, one where you could fake your death and run away and find work as a maid or maybe even a governess. Greta could help and confirm that you’d been taken, never to be seen again. You could grab your clothes that you’d discarded, if they were still around, and maybe douse them in animal blood or something, to really sell it. 

But your plan was cut short with a pounding at the front door downstairs. The knocking was so intense that all three of you froze and looked between each other, fear prickling your spines. 

When the door clearly sounded like it was trying to be opened, May sprang into action and ran downstairs, which kickstarted your adrenaline. You ran after her, afraid for her possibly getting hurt, reaching out for her to try and stop her from going any farther. 

“May, no!” you hissed, eyes on the front door that was now in view. Someone was slamming into it, the lock jiggling unsteadily, until it finally gave in. 

You were paralyzed in fear as the door flew open, but fear gave way to shock at the sight of Captain Levi at the entrance, looking frazzled. You would have never predicted you’d ever see him as anything other than composed or angry. 

As soon as your eyes locked, you ran to him. 

“Captain Levi!” 

He stopped you before you could throw your arms around him and, at first, you felt embarrassed by it, taking it as a rejection. 

It wasn’t until he started examining you, hands lifting and twisting your arms and turning your face this way and that, that you felt your heart warm up. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked. He was cupping your face, holding your jaw familiar as his eyes scanned your face for any signs of injury, and that frazzled look he held only softened when his eyes finally met yours. 

You shook your head slowly, keeping his gaze, hands shyly reaching up to cover his over your jaw. 

“I’m not hurt,” you whispered. “Just scared.” 

Levi frowned and reluctantly let go of your face, but his hands didn’t travel far. He rested them on your shoulders while your hands gently gripped his forearms, the two of you in your own little bubble. 

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he promised you, sounding so earnest. “Nobody can hurt you while I’m here.” 

Your bottom lip quivered, emotional at the thought of him willingly protecting you, but also emotional at the more sinister situation at hand. 

“My father can,” you told him, squeezing his forearms as the words left your mouth. “Greta says he’ll be looking for me soon. I can’t escape him.” 

Levi’s eyes hardened at that, grip also tightening on your shoulders, before he groaned and stepped away from you to run a hand over his face. 

“Erwin said the same thing to me,” he admitted, pacing back and forth. He briefly looked towards Greta and her mother, then to the now broken front door, and blankly stared at them before muttering, “I’ll fix that.” 

He turned back to you, arms crossed, as he took on a look of deep concentration. It was only there for a few moments before he snapped out of it, holding your gaze as he seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“You can’t be under your father’s control once you’re married,” he pointed out. 

At first, you didn’t understand. You raised a brow, a little peeved he was bringing it up, and nodded once. 

“I suppose so…,” you agreed, a hint of a frown on your face. “But I’m assuming we won’t be getting married after this, so I’m kind of shit out of luck.” It was the first time you’d really sworn like that in front of Levi. In front of anyone. It was nice. 

Levi tensed up a little and broke his eye contact with you to look away, and you could have sworn he looked a little flustered. There was a hint of pink at the tips of his ears, which shocked you.

“What?” you pressed, also feeling a bit of heat creep into your face. 

This wasn’t happening. No way this was happening. 

Levi hadn’t wanted to marry you even when it was basically required of him. 

Your hopeless romantic little heart was just playing tricks on you. He wasn’t possibly going to suggest… 

“I gave my word and I don’t intend on going back on it,” he said, still not looking at you, ears still pink. “Got any better ideas?” 

“Captain Levi…,” you began, but then trailed off, not knowing what to say, until finally you managed out, “You don’t have to do this.” 

He scoffed a little, eyes finally flickering back to you. Tentatively, he stepped forward until he was right in front of you again. You stayed perfectly still as he lifted a hand to place it on top of your head, giving you a small pat before ruffling up your hair. 

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, taking his hand away to reach into the pocket of his coat. 

And then your favorite novel was in your hands, a little more crumpled up than usual but basically intact. 

Tears sprang to your eyes and you hugged the book to your chest gratefully, looking to Levi with nothing but adoration. 

At that moment, it was all you owned in the world. You didn’t even own the clothes on your back. 

“That was really nice,” you choked out, gazing down at the book again with a small smile. 

Levi stepped forward again, closing the distance between you as he rested a hand on your shoulder again. 

“Let me protect you,” he said, tone filled with an air of finality that you couldn’t argue with. “I know I don’t have to.” 

He didn’t have to say the actual words; you understood what he meant. 

I want to. 

-

Marriage was all about compromise. 

In the end, Levi didn’t get to prolong his nuptials, since marrying you had to be done quickly. However, it also had to be done in secret. So, at the very least, you figured he at least got half of his wishes respected. 

The moment the ink was dry on the certificate, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You shed your maiden name to gain a new surname, fully protected from your father now and fully backed by the Survey Corps. It was your 30th day of knowing Levi. Your 1st day of being married. 

You took in a deep breath as Erwin took the document from you to sign as a witness, and you turned to Levi with a small and timid smile, which he actually tried to return. It was brief, but it was appreciated. And when he lifted his hand to pat your head affectionately, you melted a little.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a big wedding like you wanted,” he murmured, eyes staring at you with a hint of remorse. “I should have never made you agree to that before.” 

A half-smile tugged at one corner of your mouth and you shook your head, nudging your shoulder to his playfully. 

“I never really wanted to have a big wedding,” you admitted to him. “I just wanted to have a special day for myself. And for my husband, of course. Didn’t have to be a big thing. It just needed to be special.” 

Levi seemed to lighten up at that, giving another brief smile before murmuring, “That’s a relief.” 

“What do you mean?” you asked, but he didn’t respond, choosing instead to stand up and offer a hand to help you on your feet as well. 

You smoothed down the cream dress Greta had so kindly let you borrow and followed Levi out the door, head held a little higher now that you were an official Ackerman and nothing else. Instead of going to Commander Erwin’s office to go over a few next steps like originally planned, you found yourself following Levi outside. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, puzzled, but Levi scoffed a little and turned to look at you from over his shoulder. 

“If you could just be a little patient, I promise you’ll find out soon enough,” he said. 

It was a beautiful day, you had to admit. The spring temperature was perfect and you basked in the sunlight, feeling freer than you’d ever felt before. 

You stepped onto the grass in the courtyard, eyes towards the sky, and it wasn’t until you heard several people clear their throat that you tilted your head down to take a look. 

Your heart nearly stopped as you saw Erlo, Greta, May, and Charlie, and some of Levi’s friends, sitting on the grass, a spread of what looked like a marvelous lunch in front of them. 

Shouts of congratulations were passed around and you lit up at the sight, heart feeling full as you stumbled over while dragging Levi along. 

You turned to him, eyes bright and excited, still not quite understanding. 

“What is this?” you asked, looking between your bubble of friends and your brand new spouse. 

Levi looked a little uncomfortable, but in that cute way, and Greta beat him to the punch with the answer. 

“It’s your wedding day, so we’re celebrating, of course!” she laughed, then nodded towards Levi with a cunning grin. “It was your husband’s idea.” 

Levi’s entire face flushed at the term but he also looked murderous at being found out. 

You grinned at him, feeling warmed at his gesture, and you made a mental note to pull him aside later for a real thank you. 

At that moment, you made do by sneaking a kiss to his cheek, fully appreciating the way he got flustered. 

-

Erwin had made up a new room for you at base and, after a full day’s worth of celebrating your wedding day, you were ready to fall into bed. 

The room was right next to Levi’s, which you appreciated. It seemed funny, almost, since of course spouses typically shared a room, but under these circumstances, that wasn’t very likely. 

You cared for Levi and you could see that he at least cared for you in some ways, but those feelings would need to be nurtured with time. 

The two of you were in front of your bedroom door, with you yawning up a storm, and Levi grumbling about getting you to bed. 

You burst into your room and made a beeline for your bed, not bothering to really look around at your new room or even change out of your clothes. As soon as you were on the bed, you felt your drowsiness start to overtake you. 

Before you passed out, you peeked over at Levi, who was getting situated at a desk. 

“Aren’t you gonna sleep?” you asked, yawning again, and Levi turned to look at you briefly. 

“Not for a while,” he answered finally. 

You frowned at that but didn’t argue with him, your heart bubbling over with so many questions and feelings that you just couldn’t hold in anymore. 

“Do you still dislike me?” you blurted out, face heating up at your lack of filter. 

Levi raised a brow, pointedly looking towards the new ring on your finger. Then, his gaze softened, and he leaned back in the chair he sat in. 

“No,” he answered. “And I was wrong for judging you before. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance sooner.” 

You stayed quiet for a moment, but kept your eyes on Levi, no matter how hard it was. 

“Do you think you’ll fall in love with me one day, now that we’re married?” 

You couldn't stop that question from tumbling out either, but you were too curious to feel embarrassed. 

Levi’s ears flushed pink, a cute new trait you were catching onto. He looked away from you briefly, clearly trying to find the right words, and he took so long to respond that you felt your heart start to sink. 

But then he stood from his seat and moved to kneel beside the bed, a hand reaching up to smooth some hair out of your face.

“Let me focus on protecting you first,” he said. 

His eyes were the softest they’d ever been. They gave you another answer. 

“I’m going to love you,” you promised him. You still couldn’t admit that you were actively falling in love. Not to him, not right now. But another time. 

“I don’t deserve that, after how I acted,” he whispered. 

“I’ll always forgive you,” you whispered back. “And I’m going to love you.” 

Levi moved his hand from your head to tuck you into the sheets a little better, avoiding your gaze. Neither one of you said anything for a minute, a comfortable silence falling between you like that afternoon in the parlor room. 

As you began to drift off, Levi’s soft voice filled your ears with one final promise. One that was meant more for him than for you. 

“I’ll figure out how to love.” 

You were too tired to notice how the sheets smelled like Levi. You were too tired to realize that the room was clearly already lived in and had typical possessions of a squad captain, from ODM gear to a desk clearly stacked up with documents. 

You’d been too tired to remember that your bedroom door was the right one and not the left one. You’d been too tired to notice that you’d opened the left door. 

Levi was too besotted by you to correct your mistake. 

Somewhere, a grandfather clock chimed as midnight struck. 

[whumpshaped]

I saw you mention a drabble with assassins and so I raise you: an assassin is supposed to kill someone, maybe someone high status or maybe not- but the person they’re supposed to kill just begs for their life instead of fighting back, says to please not kill them, that they can be useful, that they can follow orders, etc- so assassin kidnaps them and keeps them as a fun little whumpee :). ~🐸

hmmmmmmmm thats very tasty and almost perfect for what i had in mind anyway so.......

trigger warnings: assassin whumper, humiliation, guns, threat of murder, fear of death, implied kidnapping

"Now, hiding won't do you any good. If anything, it'll just make me angry."

Whumpee cowered in their oversized closet, both hands clamped over their mouth to make sure that their erratic breathing wouldn't give them away. There, in the dark, surrounded and feeling suffocated by all the silky smooth and ridiculously expensive fabrics they'd been hoarding made them swear to all that was holy that if they got out of this alive, they would donate it all, they would change their corrupted ways and live an honourable life.

They jumped as something crashed against the door keeping them out of sight for now, pressing their back further into the wall. Please, no. Not like this.

Another crash, and the lock gave out, letting the door slide open agonizingly slowly. "Don't tell me that high profile Mx. Rich Bastard is hiding in the closet like a little kid? I know you people don't tend to have either a spine or morals, but come on now, that's embarrassing." Whumper stepped into the small space and grabbed their target by the shirt, shoving them outside with force that sent them landing face first on the floor. "Some people got a bone to pick with you, boss. Honestly, the 206 bones you have wouldn't be enough to satisfy all the people who want you dead."

Whumpee tried to crawl away from their personal doom, the actual, real hitman that had been sent for them, but the fear was too much. They completely froze up, essentially letting their killer walk over and put a gun to their head without any trouble. It was only when they were looking down the barrel that the words started flowing.

"Wait!" They put their shaking hands up in a clear show of surrender, their wide, terrified eyes finding Whumper's amused and confident ones. "W-Wait, wait, please, how much did they pay you? I can double it! I can triple it!"

"Are we really going down this route? Bribery? That's what your kind is good at, I suppose." Whumper smirked. "What you lot are never good at it stuff like this. Begging on your knees. Being at someone else's mercy. It freaks you out, doesn't it?"

"Of course it does, you're shoving a gun in my f-"

"Ah," Whumper interrupted, cocking the gun and making Whumpee shut up at once. "See? Always jumping to aggression when things don't go your way. That's not good, Whumpee. You need to communicate in a calm and respectful manner if you want people to listen." They tilted Whumpee's chin up with the barrel of the gun, forcing them to look at them instead of the painfully dangerous piece of metal in their hand. "Eye contact, boss. Now, what do you say instead of throwing a temper tantrum?"

"P-Please," Whumpee breathed. "Don't do this... Please, I- I don't want to die, I get it, I get that I was a horrible person, I'll change, I-"

"Change? You?"

"You have to believe me, please. I can change. I can be a good person!" They vaguely gestured to themself while still keeping their hands in the air, desperate to somehow convince them. "I mean- I can follow orders too, I'm not just some stupid and arrogant CEO! I can listen, I can learn, and fuck, I learned my lesson today. Please."

"My job is to get rid of you, you see..." Whumper dragged the gun up their cheek and patted them a few times, making Whumpee flinch. "Now, I could get behind you changing as a person and leaving this all behind, donating all your assets and keeping a low profile."

"I'll do that!"

"But," they pinned them with a look, and Whumpee shrunk in on themself, realizing they spoke out of turn again, "as part of my job, I have to make sure you never come back. That you're dead."

"I c-can disappear... I really can, please... I won't give you any trouble, you won't regret this, and if- if you ever deem it so that I broke this arrangement, you're free to kill me."

Whumper chuckled. "I'm not only free to kill you right now, but I've been paid to do exactly that. Come on. No. The arrangement is as follows: you shut your stupid mouth and come with me, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure that you really change."

[tparker48]

"Your task is simple noobie, sneak into our opponent's team and get intel on who to look out for. And do not get caught, we won't be able to reach you in there" his captain said.

"Understood, I'll be in and out before you know it" the tiny would crawl underneath the gap of locker room doors as he walking into the area. The tiles slightly pale as the air smelled of old sweat. Carefully, he made his way toward one of the lockers as he climbed the hole along the panel to the top. Thankfully he picked one that wasn't too noisy as his shoes hit latched on the ends.

He climbed all the way to the top as he perched himself upon an edge as he heard the doors begin to open. Each of the players would shift themselves into the area the sound of cleats and banging shoulder pads came closer. As they came into view, the little would duck a little as he readied his camera.

"Man was that an interesting skrim match. I swear that shoulder nearly knock me off my feet"

"Heh, you that heavy dude. You're almost light as a feather. But speaking of feet, mine are nearly killing me with that running we've been doing"

"Man, they must be really packin this year" the little guy said holding his camera. listening amongst the crowd of players as each conversed with one another. At the same time, he would begin to take pictures from his phone as he scanned and snapped each number and player they see. But there was a particularly bunch that caught his attention the sound of ruckus echoed through the lockers. A hoard of players would begin to swarm the locker doors as each got ready to change from there gear.

"Good work boys, freshen up and get ready for the game tomorrow. And sure to plenty of rest" the coach said among them. The little guy tried to take a picture of him, but sea of players would keep him out of frame before losing him. But a sudden ruckus would soon to turn up below him as the two players were caught in an argument.

"Next time you decide to catch the ball 27, make sure you can actually catch" he heard from below. He held his camera over the edge as he took pictures at the two.

"Get off my case 60! You're the one who threw it too far"

"Not my fault you can't catch think faster than you. Psh, might as well stick to line"

"Ooo note, players 27 and 60 have no coordination. This'll be usueful for tomorrow" the little guy said.

"I'll show you who should stick to line back" one of the players would tackle into the other as they were sent into the locker. Its startled the little guy at first as he continued taking pictures. At that point, the commotion would be to get attraction as the other players would start to gather around.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" They echoed through the locker room.

"Ooo ho ho, now this this is some useful info. Just let them go at take picture and numbers. Simpl-"

"Hey 26! Brace yourself!" Number 60 would go in for a tackle as the both the players crashed into the locker. The force behind it would shake the frame as it distorted the little guy's balance. Before he could get his footing back, he fell of the lockers as he tumbled to the ground

"Please land somewhere soft! Please land somewhere soft!" The little yelled as he fell to the ground. His vision constantly turning before becoming dark with a white surface in front of him. He blinked his eyes for a moment as he slowly got up and looked at the surface. A cushioned pad would be underneath him as he gave a deep sigh of relief. He soon began to stand back to his feet as the as it went to get off and pat himself down. "Oh Thank goodness,for a second there i thought i was gonna land somewhere wor-..." standing on the bench, the little guy started to look up as pillars of players towered around the table. Each of them peering down at the little guy standing in the center of the table.

"What's a little guy doing in here?"

"I don't know, but he picked the place to snoop around. Probably stealing something".

"Let me at em, i'll show him something he can snoop into"

"Eheh, now now guys. Let's not be too hasty. I um...i can explain" the little guy says backing into the pad. The players getting even more closer to the table.

"Now now boys, that's no way to treat a little. Allow me.." The team captain would push a few players aside as the he stood at the front of the table. Moving himself a little closer as his hair blocked the light overhead. "Apologies for them, they tend to get a little roudy when they see someone smaller than them. What's brings you here little one? Never seen someone the of football around here"

"I-I....**ahem** im simply passing through. Heard some commmotion and...decided to look into it. Didn't want to cause any attention"

"Cause the attention huh? Well you certainly are beyond that point" the team captain soon saw a glare from his vision as he looked to the little camera in the pile. The little guy froze for a bit as two finger rose over head a picked it up. "Hmph! Passing through huh? Looks to me like you were taking pictures" he eyed the camera for a bit before seeing a symbol from another university. "Ah i see, so the they're snooping on us huh? We got ourselves a spy boys!" The team captain held up the camera into the air as many squinted at it, but their gaze soon turned downward as the furrowed their look down at the little guy.

"W-what no! I wasn't spying at all. Just hear me out-"

"Sorry little one, evidence spells clear as day. So the other team wasn't to know more about us huh? Heh, well then lets give them what they ask for. Boys? Form a line" with an echoed chuckle, the would line themselves, behind the captain as he stood in front of the table.

"Gah!" The little guy would try and hop off the table, but a thumb would rest on his legs.

"Ah ah ah, can't have you running off just yet. And to make sure you don't" the captain would pull out a patch of tape as he laid it across the little guy's legs.

"Hey! Wha-what are you doing!"

Giving you the info you wanted" the captain would turn his back towards the little guy on table as he unfastened his pants. Pulling them down, his round glutes would stick out partially as he hover the crack over.

"Th-this is insane, what if your coach comes back and sees you doing this?" The little would pry at the tape, but he wasn't able to get a good hold.

"The coach's gone for today, which means its just you and us. And we hehe, have a very special gift for your data" the captain would soon drop to the table as his ass planted ontop of the little guy. He felt his cheeks spread a little as the sound of little muffles echoed from underneath.

The little guy's world would be dark, but the warm smell still remained as he pushed his hands between the ass crack. With each push, he could feel the hairs along the cracks length and in between it, the hole clenching at him as he bucked against it. "Hey! This isn't funny, get...off of me!".

"Sure thing. But first, your gift" as the captain sat down firmly onto the table, he would soon begin to spread his left cheek away from the other as the wall of ass planted ontop of the little guy. The sound of churning echoed above him before the hole he pushed against began to open up, before the little knew it, a warm scent escaped from inside as his nose scrunched at the smell of it.

"There go, fresh data just for you. I hope you like it"

"Augh! Come on, seriously. Get off me alrea-" before the little could finish, a rush of hot air burst into him as the smell followed behind it. The captain would feel the seat begin to warm as he chuckled to himself. Feeling the little hands underneath pounding against his. Ass as released another one. At that point, the little guy's eyes would begin to water as a second rush of air blew into him.

About a few more seconds passed before the captain began to stand back up. But not before rubbing his ass in place as the sound of grunts sounded underneath. "Aah, now i feel much better. Been holding that in since practice".

"You...are a bastard you know!" The little guy coughed.

"Heh, such harsh little words for a squirt. I do hope a little gas didn't get the better of you"

"Peh, hardly"

"Good, cause the rest of the of the team want to give you some data too" the two of them looked to the other players as they looked at the little guy with eager anticipation. "He's all yours boys. Oh and, do be sure to drop him off at the other team's place".

"With pleasure" one of the players behind him said as he stood forward. Peering down at the little as the captain went out. His shadow casted over the little guy as a little smirk came across his face.

"Ehehe..please rethink about this" the little said sweating.

"Oh i've thought of it alright" the player would seperate his legs apart as he moved them along the length of the table until his ass hovered over the little guy's head. Pulling his pants down, he spread both cheeks apart as he as aligned it with his face. "I'd hold your breath if I were you" as the player said that, his ass would move closer as the area darkened. As it sat to the table, it would plant down on his shoulders. Leaving his face to be in the center as his hole winked against his cheeks. "Unlike the captain, i like to have things much close and personal against my hole"

The little guy would feel the force of his hole mush into him as its wrinkled skin still had a little sweat in between. He tried kicking his legs from behind to get his attention, but he only received a firm press from the hole above as it slowly moved in place. As it did, the hole would begin to open up as the as a fart came out in firm bursts. The hole clamping back onto to his face each time as the farts ringed through his ears.

"Grgh! Stop it already!"

"Sorry squirt, i ain't stoppin til every bubble inside me is out and blown into you" the player sat down a little more as the hole covered over the side of the little guy's face "so sit tight". Mire churns would echo from inside him as the table once again started to feel warm. The warm smell following behind as it resonated strongly underneath him.

Another few seconds passed as the players farts soon stopped. As it started to get up, he poked a finger against the back of the little guy's head as he felt him slide off against it. "Thanks for the release squirt".

"Hah....hah...please, no more farts for lord sakes"

"Quit your whining but mat, you got the rest of us to tend to" a bigger players would step into the light as the towered over head. He also spread his ass apart as he hovered overhead. "Now just keep your head juust like that for.." As the the big player casted overhead, the little guys vision would soon go dark.

An hour later:

The other team would just now be finishing up practice as each went to change there gear. Some of them talking amongst each other while others went and trained a bit more. Suddenly, they heard a flurry of knocks on the enterance of the locker as a shadow showed up before disappearing.

"Hmm, wonder who that could be" one the players went to go open the open, but found no one outside. The only thing standing there was as small twisting jar. "Hmm, there's a note" bringing it inside, he read it to the other players as the sound stared puzzled at it. "Here is your data. Be sure to get it cleaned up. Winky face? The hell does that mean?" As the player said, they soon heard loud bangs coming from the jar as the one them slowly went to open it. Untwisting the lid, they were all met with a foul smell as a jock would stored inside. Along with the little guy as he popped out of it gasping for fresh air.

"Holy crap! What the hell happened?"

"The smells, so..so many smells. Who'd think that many players could smell that bad" the little said climbing out.

"They, what do you mean?"

"I'll tell you later. For now im just gonna...lay here for a while" the little guy would sprawl onto the table as he shut his eyes in defeat. Leaving the other players confused as they looked back at the tired tiny.

"Dang, they must've really did a number on you" his captain said.

"Ugh, you have no idea"

[sooibian]

The Spy Who Loved Me

gif credits @byunvoyage​

Pairing: Spy!Baekhyun x Assassin!Reader ft. Chen, Chanyeol

Description: It’s an obsessive cat and mouse chase

Themes: Dark comedy, angst, heavily inspired by season one of Killing Eve

Warnings: Violence, strong language

Word Count: ~2.8k

A/N: This one-shot comes during a very busy season for me so if you can make time for feedback, I’d be very grateful. Thanks :)

———————————————————————–

It’s the way light escapes their eyes.

Fear. Despair. Hope. Then…nothing.

They hope to be spared. I have a family…what about my children…please…why are you doing this to me…. The utterly foolish ones even offer you money. This imbecility makes the corners of your mouth curl upwards - especially when they’re out of breath from running or begging or whatever it is that gets their heart rate up. Eh. Factor in some cardio before dissolving into a permanent state of slumber, maybe? Poor things always mistake the twitch of your lips for impending clemency…what they don’t know is that it’s always been the breathy ones that peak your excitement.

There’s not a single hit you’ve regretted.

Mostly because you don’t bother with the futility of why. They give you a name and you jet off. To you, it’s really a fun job involving travel, costumes, languages, a hefty allowance, sticking pointy objects in the right places and theatrics. You’re not one to just do your job and slip away quietly. No arterial air embolisms, no unidentifiable fumes or poisons. No boring and discreet.  Where’s the fun in that? Flamboyant is your middle name. Every assassination is a heroi-comical poem for you - killing an asthamatic nez with a fatal concoction of perfume or a feeble-hearted fetishist with clamps that turned out to be a wee bit too intense for him.

You’re good at this. No, infact, you’re the best there is, the best there was, the best there ever  will be.

“The NIS has deployed a team of four to hunt you down because of the mess you left in Beijing. So you’ll be working with a team now. No more flying solo.” Your handler Chen says nonchalantly. 

Shit.

Beijing. “Make it look like a suicide”, had been the directive. The assignment Kasia had been put under witness protection after you’d murdered her mafia boyfriend. She was in a hospital - injured and deranged from the shock of it all, watched over by armed men. Things obviously didn’t go as planned and the security detail bloodbath was, well, collateral damage.

You saunter towards Chen with an intentional swing in your hips, a pout on your lips. You sit a little too close to the astute man, almost purring with seduction, “NIS, you say. Give me a name." 

“Byun Baekhyun.” His lips curl into a cat-like smile as he stealthily adds a foot long distance between the both of you.

“Never heard of him”, you say neutrally, gliding closer to his stoic form.

“He was a security officer before this. A nobody. In fact, he was fired right after the Kasia debacle in Beijing. She was his responsibility.” Letting out an exasperated sigh, he gets up on the pretext of fetching a glass of water.

“Why the sudden promotion, then?”

“A change of jobs. He’s heading a team…Operation Jinseong, they call themselves. Apparently, he’s the only one who believed that the murders have all been executed by a woman. If they can get to you, they can get to them. The organization. This conjecture has seemed to have impressed a higher up. After firing him, they swept his computer and found hoards of theories and all the intelligence he could gather about the faceless demon that’s actually…you. An insider thinks he’s fascinated. And a little cuckoo.” Chen’s laughter is throaty and taunting. 

He takes a sip of water and places the glass carefully on the counter, eyeing you the entire time. Chen. It’s a nom de plume. He’s a ghost - a shadow of a shadow, if you will. You know nothing about Chen but you know better than to snoop around. He’s always been affable yet distant, but he has this maddening habit of scrutinizing people. The changes in the expression, the dilation of the pupils. The man doesn’t miss a beat. And he stares unapologetically. You wonder what he thinks when he looks at you. You wonder how he feels. Disgusted? Lustful? Terrified?

He wants to know everything that’s behind those vacant eyes. With him, you feel disrobed.

“You’re only as good as your last”, he says finally, in his threateningly soft voice, thrusting a thumb drive into your hand. But you don’t feel threatened. The truth is, you feel nothing at all.

He’s at the door when you exclaim, “You never have sex with me!” Feigning annoyance.

He laughs and states matter -of-factly, “I’m married”, before closing the door behind him.

Like that’s ever stopped a man before.

***

Byun Baekhyun.

You search the thumb drive and a fresh faced man with luminous eyes smiles at you from the screen. His arm is wrapped around a slender, honey-skinned woman with big hair and big teeth. They look like an advertisement for home buyers.

A wave of recognition floods your mind.

He was there. 

He was there at the Beijing scene. The beautiful man who helped you with the coffee maker in the hospital. The very same coffee you doused barista Kasia with. 

There’s an inexplicable swell in your chest.

.

.

.

You’re no team player.

The undertaking with your ex and her boyfriend didn’t go as planned. Chen should’ve known. 

After a disagreement, you instigated her to off him, your shin getting injured in the scuffle. Then you ran her over with the jeep - once, twice. The third time was just to be sure. This commotion affected the escape of the NIS Agent you were after.

The mole that ratted out Baekhyun’s Operation Jinseong. 

The murders of your “colleagues” you could manage to explain - you’d tailored them to look like accidents. However, the assignment’s escape was sure to reflect poorly on you.

You’re only as good as your last.

The Agent scurries across a field of dead grass towards the feeder road, putting considerable distance between him and an injured you, where someone sat waiting anxiously in the driver’s seat.

Oh, Baekhyun…

It’s the first time you look into each other’s eyes, the moment stretching between you. It is like standing on the ledge of a skyscraper. With the wind in your hair, the world at your feet but in this space exists trepidation. A fear of falling.

Your gun wielding arm suddenly feels too heavy and your legs threaten to give up on you. Your heart rate escalates as the hot embers of his gaze gloss over the stretch of your skin. 

The mole slips into the backseat of Baekhyun’s compact Kia Morning as you continue to take aimless shots at his vitals - eyes still intertwined with Baekhyun’s. 

What good was a mole to the NIS?, you wanted to ask. Especially one that looked like a sewer rat.

You were only doing them a favour.

Aiming the gun at Baekhyun, you fire, only to realize he isn’t fearful or panicky. On the contrary, there is a sense of purpose in his eyes as well as something you could only identify as a glimmer. A spark. 

Even from a twenty foot distance you can tell Byun Baekhyun is in awe of you.

This…thing…this electricity surges through your veins and you sprint towards your jeep - as fast as your good leg could carry you. 

Oops. You didn’t mean to run over her for the fourth time.

***

Reverse. Acceleration. A few well thought out turns and your jeep is hardly a hundred meters behind Baekhyun’s car. You continue to fire and he continues to dart, swerve, sidestep. A good driver.

Suddenly, his car comes to a screeching halt.

He steps out of his vehicle amidst shrill cries of protest from the mole in the backseat and you follow suit.

Weaponless, crouched, he inches towards the gun pointed at him. 

“I mean no harm”, despite his scared posture, his voice is confrontational. “Leave the man alone. He has a little girl.”

Oh, Baekhyun…

You smile at him. He smiles back.

A genuine smile. Like the one your father used to give you when he saw you relishing ice-cream as…a little girl.

In a flash, you aim the nozzle at your temple and Baekhyun cries out a loud, pained, “NO!”

Laughing, you lower the gun and fire at his feet. He ducks. 

You vanish.

.

.

.

It was exhilarating to use the alias ``Mrs. Byun ” for your next job especially since the man and his giant partner have been on your tail for three months now. 

But, maybe, you shouldn’t’ve stolen Baekhyun’s luggage as soon as he landed in Tokyo to investigate the mysterious death of a Chinese colonel. He and his team knew perfectly well whodunnit. But one can’t bring faceless demons to book now, can they?

Who knows how this easily distracted giant of a man is supposed to protect Baekhyun if it should ever come to it. He couldn’t even watch his luggage for a measly five minutes.

***

You watch Baekhyun and the giant from your apartment overlooking the crime scene. He looks frazzled and the giant slightly apologetic. ‘You’ll have your bag back soon, baby’, you whisper, sucking on a bubblegum flavoured lollipop.

Thirty minutes roll by and the investigation seems to be heading nowhere. Bored out of your wits, you slump into your bed and toy with the contents of Baekhyun’s bag - shirts, slacks, underwear, toiletries.

Dull, tedious, and soul-destroyingly unimaginative. 

Save for one green scarf. 

In a sea of monotones, the scarf stands out. Demanding attention. Fluttering your eyes shut, you slowly bury your face in it - your senses entirely enveloped in his heady scent. 

***

“Excuse me, if you don’t mind me asking, where did you get that scarf from?”

Day two in Tokyo. You’ve been following Baekhyun (and, by extension, Chanyeol). Studying him. It was like adopting Chen’s personality. Apart from the occasional loud laughter, his demeanour, you learn, is self-effacing, gracious, and polite. He’s a picky eater who only eats to live and not the other way round. He’s also very observant and intuitive. But not enough to know that he’s being watched. 

Also, he’s thinking. Constantly. He’s thinking about you. 

“Excuse me?”

Chanyeol asks again - large, deep brown eyes focused on your neck trying to stop you from getting onto the same train as Baekhyun. 

Very subtle.

“It’s from my mother’s store. I could give you the address if you like”, smiling, you crane your neck to look into his disturbed eyes as you both pretend not to know each other amidst a swarm of dog-tired people on the platform at six in the evening.

You slip into the crowd but the oaf chooses to follow.

What does he think he’s doing following an assassin through a strange city! Unarmed.

Forty minutes elapse and he continues to chase you through the streets of Tokyo, keeping up with your brisk pace. With your easy charm, you breeze into the club called Camelot and wave Chanyeol goodbye as he’s stopped by the bouncer and sent to the back of the line. His eyes are dark with a murderous rage.

The club is loud, dark…stuffy - the air thick with over-the-counter happiness. Definitely not to your taste but you stay to give Chanyeol a head start. He’s pissed you off and he’ll pay for it later. Not today. 

You really didn’t want to upset a tired Baekhyun. At least not until you feel a beefy hand weigh down your shoulder.

“I didn’t want to do this”, you rise on your tippy toes and whisper into his ear before sticking a short blade into the side of his stomach. He’s heaving as you stare into his round, childlike, startled eyes while supporting his stumbling weight and stabbing him repeatedly until he finally collapses.

You leave him to bleed out on the dance floor and on your way out, you grab the arm of a medium-built man, your blood-dipped, glistening lips stretched into a lascivious smile.

“Let’s put you in a costume first”, you say to the unassuming moron, excitably thinking of Baekhyun’s dull shirts.

.

.

.

Grief draws people closer, your grandmother used to say, every time someone died of sickness in that impoverished little village of yours.

Baekhyun’s grieving the oaf who was slowing him down. He’s looking for company. So..he’s snooping. 

He’s in your apartment.

The “trusting old lady” - your next door neighbour, who actually works for the same organization as you handed him the key exactly as instructed. You’d been expecting him, this meeting was long overdue. But you wait in the cute little French cafe just around the corner - watching him scout out your apartment through your phone, while devouring a Charlotte Russe cake - dressed pretty in a flouncy pink dress.

He’s careful not to make a squeak. Walking on tippy toes, running his beautifully slender fingers along the drapes, the furniture, the walls as he goes. Your skin tingles all over. Oh, how you wish to be a piece of furniture in the moment. Only Baekhyun could make you want to be something muted and inanimate. Furniture, mattress, drapes.

He saunters slowly to your blackwood Georgian cupboard. The one you use for your wigs, costumes, weapons, and his own green scarf. He wears the scarf around his neck, ruffles the costumes but he’s gentle with the wigs. Stroking and caressing. 

From the drawer he picks out a .38 and shoves it in his waistband. Right behind his hip bone.

Oh, Baekhyun…

Pretty boys and their dangerous toys.

He finds himself in the kitchen. The revolver seems to have straightened his spine and suffused his step with a very welcome spring. Mi casa es su casa. 

In the fridge he finds exactly what he’s supposed to. No food. Only a dozen bottles of celebratory champagne of the best kind. What comes next from him is a scornful snicker which fills your mouth with a bitter taste. The Charlotte Russe doesn’t look very appetizing anymore. He draws a bottle out of the fridge, studies it and smashes it onto the floor. Then another, then another until all the bottles are reduced to shattered glass dripping in gold strewn across your kitchen floor.

Playtime is over, Baekhyun.

You make a run for your apartment.

***

He’s exhausted. 

Breathless, air tousled, shirt crumpled, eyes droopy, beads of sweat lined across his forehead and upper lip - standing clueless, smack-dab in the middle of the mess he’s made - clothes torn off their hangers, furniture overturned. You can’t recognize your upscale Seoul apartment anymore. Careful around the glass, you make your way towards his still frame, withdraw the weapon from his light, jaded grasp. 

You take his hand in yours and lead him to your bedroom - which is entirely ransacked just like the rest of your house. Save for the bed.

He lies down on his back and his first words are, “God, I’m tired.”

“Me too”, you say, as you lie facing him, “Are you wearing the cologne I gave you?”

You’d sent him a bottle of cologne along with the bag you had nicked in Tokyo, as a token of appreciation. It was handcrafted to smell like power.

He hums, turning to the side to face you, nestling into the depths of your irises.

“Are you going to kill me?” He asks, eyeing the revolver in your hand.

Your heart falls to pieces at the ache in his voice.

“No”, you say simply, tossing it to the side.

“Really?”

“I promise.”

Relief ripples across his soft, boyish features smoothing the lines of worry as it goes.

“You’re all I think about”, he says, studying your face. And you’re left wondering yet again, about his thoughts. His feelings.

“So you trash my apartment?” You sound as gentle as you can. But if you’re honest, you don’t even have to try that hard.

“I lost my job, my partner, my wife left me, and I even lost my sanity because of you.”

With his dulcet touch, he traces along the edge of your lips.

“Fair enough. I think about you too. I mean, I to you masturbate a lot.” You say as your thumb rubs his cheek lightly.

He lets out a loud, embarrassed giggle that makes him look a decade younger.

“Too much?” You ask, apprehensively.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

And with that you’re both inching closer to each other, like magnets.

Baekhyun’s soft gaze darkens and simultaneously you feel something sharp poking at your stomach.

“You can’t do it”, you wrap your hand around the blade, almost mocking him. He’s too nice for something this abominable.

“I can”, he whispers, his eyes still nestled in yours, as he plunges the blade deeper, tearing you apart. 

He places a chaste, soft kiss on your forehead.

Fear. Despair. Hope.

“Sorry, baby.” 

Continuation - My Lovable Curse

[chaosmax]

Dragon’s Hoard

Summary:  For a break, Diva approaches Seto for a casual duel, no fancy holograms this time. Unfortunately for him, Seto's bearded dragon wants all of Seto's attention for himself. Clearly, this should be considered unlawful interference. Still, neither of them is willing to just hand over a win.

Tags: Oneshot, Kaiba has a lizard and it doesn’t like Diva, mainly because Diva takes Seto’s attention, Dueling and bickering, Fluff, Cubeshipping

Word count: 964

Read on AO3 here, but the rest is also under the Read More.

There was an audible snap of a book closing to Kaiba’s left as he read over some reports on his laptop.

“Well? Did you like it?” he questioned.

But instead of responding, Diva simply took a moment to remain silent in the spot of sunlight he was lounging in on the couch in the office.

Kaiba returned his attention to the documents.

“It was an interesting tale. But I felt the explanations behind all the technology and science was a bit unnecessary.”

“Take that back, that’s one of the best things about it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Diva sets the book on the table and gets up to walk over to Seto’s desk. But before he could ask what the CEO was doing, his eyes caught something more dangerous.

Seto’s lizard, perched on its owner’s shoulder. Like a little watchdog.

Diva wasn’t going near that thing. Not after last time.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to take a break and have a quick duel.”

A slow smirk spread across Seto’s face as he refocuses his attention on the ex-Plana.

“Something stopping you?” he asked with a raised brow.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the bearded dragon puffing up his throat.

Golden eyes fixed him with a stare before dragging a chair over to sit across the desk.

“No,” he said reaching into his coat and taking out his cards.

With a snort, Kaiba pushed his computer to the side and tapped a button on his Duel Disk that was laying on the edge of the desk. The lights flared to life and the digital deck appeared on the table a moment later, already shuffled.

“How random can the shuffling of a binary machine be, Seto Kaiba?”

Five blue holographic cards are taken off the top and Seto glances at them. Not a bad start.

“That machine is doing math that would take you and me hours. It is sufficiently random.”

Diva finishes shuffling his cards the old fashion way and sets them on the desk. Kaiba taps it without cutting it.

“Card type on the bottom of your deck?”

“Trap, Cubic Ascension.”

“Monster,” Kaiba grumbles.

Trap beats monster. Diva got to decide who goes first.

“Oh? Do tell?” Diva asks as he just sets a few cards for his first turn.

“Blue Eyes.”

“Really now? Maybe your machine is more fair than I thought.”

Kaiba draws and summons Assault Wyvern. “Won’t matter, it’ll be in my hand or on the field soon enough.”

The turns slowly pass, all while the lizard on Seto’s shoulder just stares at Diva like he has a vendetta. As if Diva was an intruding thief in the dragon’s hoard of gold.

But eventually, as time passes the turns slow to a crawl. The Cubic counters have done their work and locked Kaiba out of a lot of his options, nullifying his monster's effects and paralyzing them from attacking. As Diva examines his opponent’s field, it’s hard to see anything workable. But he didn’t know what Seto had in his hand. Or what Kaiba could search his deck for and retrieve something that could throw everything off—

There’s a sudden rough weight on his hand that was resting on the desk while he waited and observed. And looking over, it was just what Diva dreaded.

The little bearded dragon perched proudly on his hand, looking a bit too intently at his golden bracelet. At least, Diva hoped it was his bracelet and not one of his fingers.

“Your dragon lives up to his name, a greedy little thing. Seto, I swear—”

“What? I don’t see the problem. Let Fáfnir relax,” Kaiba says as he activates Bingo Machine, Go!!! and takes a leisurable moment to search through all of his digital cards even though he could have easily had his duel disk spit out the cards that fit the criteria of the spell’s effect.

“Sure, he certainly looks so relaxed while staring at my hand like it’s a tasty bug,” Diva says with a nod at the reptile.

“He has to learn to warm up to you eventually. And trying to feed him didn’t go over so well, but look—I think this is progress.”

“It’s progress until he decides he’s gotten bored. Middle one,” Diva says out of the three cards Seto picked. The CEO adds it to his hand and returns the other two to his deck.

“Now get him off me.” Diva doesn’t dare to move his hand, but despite that Fáfnir climbs around and clamps his jaws down on Diva’s thumb.

“Ow—Seto!”

Laughing at the other’s misery like a true villain, Seto puts his cards aside to ease the little dragon into releasing the vice grip on Diva. No real damage was done of course, but he figured that was enough havoc to cause for the day and carried the lizard back to his terrarium. Despite the ex-Plana’s suffering, this was quite a good bit of progress. For a bit the reptile did seem almost content.

“Don’t laugh, you did that on purpose because you’re losing, aren’t you?”

“Me, losing? I think you’re misreading the field, Diva.”

“If you’re determined to use underhanded tactics at least own up to it.”

Kaiba walks back around the desk and picks up two of his cards, revealing his turnabout strategy. A Blue-Eyes Alternative White Dragon and a regular Blue Eyes to special summon it with.

“You so sure I was losing? You’ve used all your Vijams already. Unless you have something to retrieve them from the graveyard all I have to do is use Alternative’s effect to clear that absurdly powered up Duza off your field.”

Diva smirks.

“Fine then. Let’s see if you can make a comeback.”

_____

Thanks for reading!

Notes: I just wanted some fluff. Fáfnir is the name of a dragon from the Icelandic Saga of the Volsungs. Also, bearded dragons are normally very friendly if you socialize and care for them properly. Fáfnir is just an attention hog.

One of the ways people can determine who goes first in a duel is to use the card on the bottom of the deck. Trap beats monster, monster beats spell, and spell beats trap. Whoever wins can either decide if they want to go first or perhaps whoever wins goes first. There are multiple variations. After your opponent shuffles their deck at the start you can cut it to ensure it's even more random and fair. Though in a non-competitive scenario, if you trust that the person isn't stacking their deck somehow and did a good job shuffling you can also just tap the cards and move onto the duel.

[nocluewhatsupg]

it is yours truly again, greetings! how do you think jason and michael would end up doing the kisses (ew) with each other? also jason x brahms is a crack ship of mine as well, what do u think of it agdhzyzv

Us: wow look at this prompt its so good!

Us: * starts rambling about something completely different, doesn’t address the original question *

Also, Jason x Brahms?? How would that even start??

Jason and Michael being soft

Haha

No

Neither Michael nor Jason cares about kissing or being romantic in any sense

If ANYONE tried anything with Jason, they’d get a nice machete to the skull. (he probably tastes really gross too)

If they ever were to kiss, it would have to be under the impossible circumstances that they met and grew up with eachother as children.

That Jason never drowned, or at least survived being drowned, and Michael had the sense to stop acting creepy and charm his way out of the sanitarium.

(There’s a really good fanfic on this, we think it was on A03? Either way, it’s too soft for us so we gotta make it cruel >:).)

Michael was offered the opportunity to visit the camp when he was twelve, and was alarmingly becoming less and less social. In a desperate attempt to connect him to other children, this last resort idea was thrusted into the air. Whoever came up with that one sure got a promotion or something.

Michael, upon reaching the loud and boisterous camp, wanted nothing to do with it. His only other option was back to the hospital, and he wanted even less to do with that, so he begrudgingly smiled and followed a chipper counselor deeper into the camp.

Probably spent most of his time either watching people, or killing animals in the shadows behind buildings. He’d talk to people (gasp) but only if they approached him first, and he didn’t have a clear path to avoiding it. When he talked, it was with odd wording and his face never matched the tone of his words. He didn’t speak for long, either. Only a few short sentences that screamed ‘I don’t want to talk to you’.

Kids tried to pick on him, but that cold icy gaze from perfect blue eyes changed their minds quickly. Not that he really cared what others though about him. One notable incident was when a group of particularly troublesome teens followed him behind a building. When Michael turned, to expose his hands painted red from a small toad he’d snapped in half, they suddenly remembered camp activities they should’ve been participating in.

Speaking of camp activities, he’d always slip away, and he was just so quiet and uninteresting that it took a good long while for anyone to notice.

Jason basically lived at the camp, connected to the humid soil and green trees since troubled birth. It came to a point where he was no longer invited to join camp activities, since all attention would be on him. He didn’t mind, and seeked saftey in the cool shadows behind buildings long before Michael did.

So they met when Jason rounded the corner on a fresh morning, where it had rained the previous night, making dew condensed on grass blades and wet your shoes as you walked. He was met with a lanky kid, leaning against the wet wood with his hands flat beside him. The kid stared blankly at the bright blue skies, and the streaky clouds that did nothing to hide the rising sun.

Michael heard the grass rustling, approaching footsteps, but couldn’t quite tear himself away from the warm haze he was in. It was only when he heard shaking and nervous breathing did he turn to see who’d come.

He saw Jason peeking from around the corner. With a quick flick of his eyes, he looked Jason from mangled head to dirty shoes with disgust on his pursed lips. All he knew about Jason was the hoard of kids that followed him, and Michael wanted nothing to do with that. A scowl warned Jason to not follow him, and he spun on his heel as he sulked off somewhere else.

Jason immediately assumed he scared Michael off with his appearance, and a flurry of emotion made his temples hurt and his eyes sting.

In the time that he had loitered around the corner, he did not hide in time, and brought the attention of said group of kids that just happened to wander by. The fact he’d ducked behind a more hidden part of the camp excited them, and their teeth gnashed like vultures around a dying animal as they too made dry footprints in the wet grass.

Michael stood in the bushes, in the shallow beginning of the forest. A tall tree hid half of him, the other half stuck out to watch. He saw the grotesque kid being pushed and spat on, yelled at and poked with sticks. Michael did nothing but watch. With the devil in his blood, he well could take on the group of older kids, but he just didn’t feel like it. Jason crying and whimpering did not raise a single nerve in Michael, and he felt no need to intervene. (At least he didn’t join the group?)

A whistle blew in the distance, and hunger cried louder in the vultures than malice, and they gave Jason a few more kicks before they ran off laughing and howling as if they’d won some sort of competition and they expected anything other than winning. Jason curled over himself, bringing his knees closer to his aching torso. Michael stepped out of the shadows, and Jason whimpered again, assuming he was here to deal the final blow.

The brunet stood for a few silent minutes, towering over the injured boy and bathing in the complete control he had over the situation. He became the grim reaper, life and death, god. Jason did not crawl or try to stumble to his feet, far too naive to understand the black storm behind baby blue eyes.

As Michael carefuly thought out his possibilities, it came to him that this sniveling, crying thing at his feet belonged to that nice lady who served decent food. If he were to return her child to her, he’d surly be rewarded. She did make good cookies.

Jason flinched when a hand stuck out to him, and it took a few seconds for him to realise it was not a reach to hurt him. One hand wiped his tear streaked face as he blinked up in gratitude, the other took the outstretched hand. Jason was practically yanked to his feet, and he stumbled a little when he was brought up. Through chipped lips and sore jaws Jason mumbled thankful words as he still held onto Michael’s hand to ground himself.

Michael would hear none of it, as he did not gain any pleasure for doing good deeds, and wordlessly clamped his hand around the larger one. Jason was left to trail behind and try to keep up as Michael began to speed walk back into camp. Jason tried to converse with the strange kid dragging him around, but it fell on deaf ears, gaining no response to any friendly questions. He didn’t even get his name.

In the bustling cafeteria, Michael proudly presented a bruised Jason to his mother. He turned his nose up in irritation when she shreiked and rushed to her son, to cradle and hold him and speak with worry. She quickly hurried him to the kitchen, out of view, and finally adressed Michael.

Michael stood silently, feeling nothing to the praise, and occasionally glancing over to the warm tray of cookies cooling on the countertop. Mrs. Voorhees became suspicious as the boy refused to say anything, but she was in no condition to question him. Maybe he was simply shy.

Whatever the case was, he was the first child to assist Jason instead of joining in his torment, and if this was a behavior she could make continue, she would.

As soon as his plan worked and warm chocolate was in his mouth, he had confirmed a good source of getting treats, Michael relaxed instantly. The stoic expression melted slightly to give her a faked, nervous smile. People liked when others smiled at them. She smiled too, decided he was just shy, and while patting his head she thanked him again.

The second Michael turned around, he became serious again, and his eyes glared knives around him. In his mind, evil cogs turned and black smog thick enough to kill whoever breathed it in pumped as he made a new goal.

Maybe he’d hang around the maimed kid. He had a lot to gain.

This disfigured kid was his ticket to fooling everyone and leaving the sanitarium’s suspicion for good.

[jaskiersvalley]

So because I also have been reading your stuff on ao3 (it's good and wonderful thank you) and on here (i couldnt believe they were both you) (like how dare you be such an amazing writer). Thank you so much I have all the emotions reading your fics. I cannot thank you enough. I dont have the words to. So here have a bunch of purple hearts! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💛

Purple hearts!!! Of all the colours to pick, you’ve managed to choose my favourite

Time was a funny thing,Geralt mused. He wasn’t affected by it like humans so it held little meaning to him and he forgot how humans aged. Jaskier, on the other hand, was painfully aware of it and the longer Geralt spent time with him, the more he realised Jaskier was rather vain. The various creams and lotions in his bag grew and he spent more and more time each morning to get ready. Not that it made much of a difference in Geralt’s opinion. There were still wrinkles and bags under Jaskier’s eyes. Only once did Geralt make the mistake of pointing out grey hairs on Jaskier’s temple and he was greeted to a full blown, rather dramatic wail.

Still, nothing stopped the marching of time and Jaskier started to be more shy around Geralt. It had been so long since he’d last seen his bard naked. They had enjoyed many an evening together but perhaps age had affected that too. The doublets Jaskier had been so fond of looked a little tighter. So perhaps time wasn’t as kind to Jaskier as hoped and he was ashamed. Next to Geralt, no human really looked impressive but with age, a little more weight and maybe even a bit of sagging, Jaskier felt inadequate. Little did he seem to care that Geralt still loved him regardless of his looks. But his ageing lark seemed so self-conscious, Geralt was content to love him in any capacity he was allowed. Sometimes he wondered whether age had brought other, more embarrassing complications for Jaskier in the bedroom department too but it wasn’t a question he ever asked.

Over time, Jaskier had gone completely grey, had a little paunch but his voice was still just as strong and he kept up with Geralt on the roads. So even if Geralt wondered whether they should settle somewhere for Jaskier’s twilight years, he couldn’t find a reason to suggest it because outside of cosmetics, Jaskier didn’t seem any different. Except for if Geralt saw him before his morning ritual of what he called skincare, Jaskier screeched and ran, hiding himself. But that was just Jaskier’s brand of dramatics.

They were walking through the edges of Vengerberg when a disbelieving voice called “Jaskier?”

Geralt watched Jaskier freeze, face looking pained and obviously trying to think of a way to run away.

“I don’t believe it! Julian! What the hell have you done to yourself?”

“Valdo,” Jaskier ground out and turned. “Please don’t-” Whatever he had been about to say, it was silenced as Valdo Marx marched up to him and swiped a thumb over the swell of his cheek.

“What is all this? Why are you marching around like some old man?” Valdo licked his thumb and swiped again. It was like he was wiping age from Jaskier, where he touched, youthful skin peeked through. “And what’s this?”

Playfull, Valdo patted the small stomach and laughed brightly. “Pillows? Really my dear? What’s the meaning of all this?”

Jaskier’s gaze slid to Geralt and Valdo’s followed. A frown morphed into realisation before Valdo burst out laughing.

“It just got awkward to mention, okay?” Jaskier pouted as Valdo clutched his shoulder.

Now that Geralt looked, Valdo looked no different to how he had been all those decades ago when they met at a banquet once. Still as cocksure, ageless in a youthful way and dressed just as garishly. It seemed that time hadn’t just been kind to him, it had all but forgotten him.

“You’ve always been an idiot,” Valdo snickered and ruffled Jaskier’s hair, hand coming away a little white. He looked at it and laughed again, shaking his head. “This is priceless. I’ll be singing about it for a century, that’s for sure.”

Finally having enough, Geralt stepped closer, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. Plus, Jaskier was looking and smelling more stressed and embarrassed by the minute. Id didn’t help that where Valdo had swiped a thumb over his face was dusted in a healthy pink.

“If we go to an inn with a bath, I can explain,” Jaskier mumbled, uncharacteristically quiet. It only made Valdo snicker.

“Well, nice to see age hasn’t brought you any wisdom. I’ll see you around, Jaskier.” With that, he flounced off, laughing to himself like an idiot.

Silence engulfed them and Jaskier looked rather miserable. Going to the inn was like taking him to the gallows. The bath was called and Jaskier waited for it to be filled, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his doublet.

“Just don’t be mad, okay?” he said and Geralt nodded, sat on the bed and confused. Slowly, Jaskier stripped. A few oddly shaped pillows were pulled from under his doublet, as he stripped, Geralt was struck by one thing. His body didn’t match his head. There were no wrinkles, no signs of ageing, his chest hair wasn’t silver like his head. In fact, his body looked no different to the last time he had seen it. After a moment’s hesitation, Jaskier stepped into the bathtub and dunked himself under with a deep breath, hands scrubbing at his face and hair. The water clouded white and when Jaskier resurfaced, his hair was back to its usual brown, face wrinkle free and youthful. On the bed, Geralt was perplexed.

“Surprise?” Jaskier gave an awkward jazz hands for effect.

“I don’t understand.” Geralt truly didn’t. One moment Jaskier was a grey haired, older man and one dunk in some water later, he was back to his ageless youthful looks. “Are you rejuvenated by having a bath?”

A bark of laughter erupted from Jaskier before he clamped hands over his mouth the stifle the slightly hysterical sound. “No. It’s easier if I show you.”

He climbed out of the bath, uncaring of his nudity and went to his bag, pulling out all the lotions and creams Geralt had watched him hoard like a dragon. There were powders, all shades of white.

“Watch,” the command was gentle and Jaskier began to apply the various things with a practised hand. Within minutes, Geralt’s old companion was back, minus the white hair. There were shadows highlighting wrinkles, his skin looked more weathered and aged. “I liked spending time with you. But you thought I was human.”

Walking back to the tub, Jaskier dunked his head under and washed all the make-up off with ease.

“You...,” Geralt was a little speechless.

“I made myself look like I’ve been ageing because I didn’t want to lose you. It got to a point in our relationship that I couldn’t turn around and say ‘by the way honey, I don’t get old’ because too much time had passed.”

“So, instead, you spent coin on things to make you look older. How did you think this was going to end?” Geralt frowned.

“I thought you’d get tired of me and leave me behind one day. Deem me too old to keep up with you. Thought maybe if we stopped having sex, you wouldn’t want me around but-” Jaskier broke off with a small, sad smile.

“But?”

“But you kept loving me. Kept me around, made plans to settle just for me. And I couldn’t figure out how to stop the charade. Valdo, as much as he is a blight upon this world, actually did me a favour even if he just wanted to mock me.”

There were so many things rolled up in such few words, Geralt was offended Jaskier had thought he could just leave his bard behind one day. Rather than deal with the big emotions, Geralt kept things simple.

“To get this clear, I thought you were a human, to keep up my belief in that, you made yourself look older through make-up and hair dye.” He watched Jaskier nod and look contrite. “We stopped having sex because you couldn’t disguise your body like you could your face.” More nodding. “Now that I know, does that mean we get to have sex again?”

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Desensitized

Chapter 2

Summary: MK wakes up to more spiders. It only gets worse from there.

Trigger Warnings: pet whump, dehumanization, spiders, choking and strangulation, suicidal ideation, physical and psychological torture, near death experiences, and panic attacks

2036 words

MK didn’t remember falling asleep.

He remembered desperate panic, burning skin, screaming himself hoarse. He remembered crying so hard he couldn’t breathe.

But he didn’t remember falling asleep.

He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to get up, to face the dark, horrifying nightmare cell again. If he kept his eyes closed then it was sort of like he wasn’t even there.

It was like he was back home, or really, anywhere but here.

Somewhere that wasn’t filled with spiders. Terrible… creepy little… spiders…

He snapped his eyes open purely out of fear.

That fear, as it turned out, was horrifically accurate.

This time, his eyes were fully adjusted to the lack of light, and oh god, this was a hundred times worse than being blind. 

There were spiders on him.

There were spiders on him.

He screamed, tears immediately welling in his eyes as he frantically tried to get them off. He swiped at them violently, his hands shaking so bad that he could barely even do so.

Get them off get them off get them off get them off get them off get them off stop stop stop stop please no.

He couldn’t think, he could only panic panic panic, could only scramble to get to his feet and crush the spiders under his shoes. He couldn’t breathe properly again until they were all dead. Even then, he just stared at them, his vision obscured by the constant flow of tears.

He stumbled away, to the other side of the small cell. Mercifully, he couldn’t see any more of them.

He didn’t sit, this time. He just stood there, arms wrapped tightly around himself as he cried. Standing would make it harder for them to get to him. Standing was good, standing was his best option.

He wanted to go home so badly.

He wanted to be in the noodle shop, he wanted Pigsy to yell at him for being late, he wanted to make deliveries and fight demons and not be stuck here, in a cell surrounded by the one thing he feared the most.

He whimpered.

He was sure that the spiders were everywhere, again. Surrounding him. Too many. Too close. 

Stop stop stop.

He needed to get out of his head, he needed to stop thinking about it, but he couldn’t. His mind and heart were racing, and there was nothing he could do to distract himself from the terror.

He was so busy panicking, so busy crying hard enough that his face had gone numb a long time ago, so busy unable to focus on anything other than all the spiders, that he hadn’t even noticed the cell door opening.

“I take it you’ve learned your lesson?”

MK snapped his head up. The door was open.

He all but threw himself to the other side, tripping on a rock and landing hard on the ground. It hurt, but at least he wasn’t in there anymore.

There he lay, on the ground, unable to make himself stop crying, while the Spider Queen stood above him.

He didn’t have the energy to try to run.

She went dead silent, and MK risked a glance up, wiping his eyes. The tears were finally, finally beginning to slow.

She looked angry. No, angry wasn’t the right word. She looked absolutely furious.

He shrank back. He didn’t know what had caused this sudden change, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Wordlessly, she pulled him roughly to his feet, dragging him along. He fought back, but her grip was tight.

“Where are you taking me?” he whimpered.

He was given no answer.

Before long, he was back where he’d first woken up, though it was much lighter than before. He couldn’t decide if he liked being able to see.

“It seems,” the Spider Queen said cooly, “that you haven’t learned your lesson.”

MK hadn’t even tried to run this time! Well, he supposed he’d struggled a little, but still. He had no desire to go through that again. “What do you — what do you mean?”

She glared down at him. “If you think it’s acceptable to murder my sweet little children,” a spider ran across her arm, which she smiled fondly at. “Then I’m going to have to teach you how to be a good little monkey.”

MK paled. She’d already proven that she would make good on threats like that.

“Wait, no, I didn’t—”

“Hush up.”

MK tried to run. He actually made it a good few steps this time, but in all the chaos, he’d forgotten about his bandana.

Of its own will, it began to tighten around his neck. Frantically, he tugged at the fabric, desperately trying to get it off. It wouldn’t budge.

He had slowed down enough to be caught, and he was shoved to the ground and pinned there. “I’ll teach you some respect,” she said, a dark promise that MK had no doubt she would keep.

The bandana let up, and MK could only focus on breathing in and out. In and out. He just needed to keep taking in air. Breathing was good. Breathing was the first step to getting himself out of this mess.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something move. He turned his head, searching for it. He didn’t see anything, maybe it had just been his imagination.

But then he saw it again. Spiders. So many spiders.

“What—?” he squeaked, watching them approach in nothing short of terror. He’d just gotten away from them!

“You killed my children,” she repeated, angry. “You’ve been a very, very bad little monkey. I’d kill you just as brutally if you weren’t so useful to me alive.”

He glanced again at the ever-closer hoard of spiders, his inability to breathe completely unrelated to his headband, this time. “I’m sorry!” he cried.

“You will be,” she growled.

They crawled onto him.

He screamed, trying to get them off, but being held down as he was, he could do nothing but helplessly thrash.

“Get them off!” he begged, tears immediately beginning to gather and fall from his eyes. “Please, oh god!”

They were all over him, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He could only lay there, pinned to the ground, spiders covering his whole body.

“This is what happens when you go and kill my children,” she hissed, forcing him harsher against the cold stone ground.

He sobbed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to kill them, I didn’t!” he wanted to be dead, anything would be better than this, he wanted to die and never come back and be done with this forever.

To make matters worse, the Spider Queen began to chant. The bandana constricted around his throat once more, and MK was left wheezing and gasping for air like a fish.

He jerked in her grip, vision beginning to get fuzzy. There were so many spiders. He wanted to be dead. He had never been so scared before. Panic was holding him tighter than the Spider Queen was, and that was saying something.

They crawled all over him. He screamed, but no sound escaped. The band was too tight. If he couldn’t breathe, at least he would die. Anything but this.

It stopped, but MK hardly noticed. He was too busy sobbing his eyes out, barely able to see the little creatures that had made homes for themselves on his skin. He began to shake and tremble, until he was practically seizing.

His entire body went freezing cold, and he realized very suddenly that he had been hyperventilating. He couldn’t find it in him to try anymore. They were all over him.

He wanted to die.

He wanted the band to constrict again and not let go, to just let him die.

No other thought in his head. Just get them off let me die get them off let me die get them off get them off he had to get away.

His face burned with pins and needles. 

He could barely feel the spiders crawling up his neck and up to his face, but that only made it worse. He clamped his mouth shut, having a hard time doing so from how hard he was crying. Oh god, oh god oh god, this was a nightmare, this was worse than a nightmare.

His mind was blank and too full and nothing and everything and black and white and — he couldn’t hold in a scream, ugly and hoarse. He clamped his mouth shut again.

It could have been hours by the time they finally left. They scuttled off him, retreating into the cold and damp corners of the cave. He was all but forced to sit up.

And oh, was this horrible.

MK, with tears still streaming down his face, eyes puffy, no doubt red all over. The Spider Queen, staring down at him with all the grace a queen would have.

MK, hand violently trembling, lifted his arm to wipe his eyes, feeling much like a child having a tantrum.

“I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson,” she said, a statement more than a question. “I suggest you don’t do it again.”

“I wo—I won’t,” he sobbed, shaking his head.

“There’s a good little monkey.”

He needed to get out of here. This was sick, it was absolutely disgusting, it was evil, potentially more so than even DBK was capable of. He needed to run, and — and — and — when had she started carding her fingers through his hair?

It felt kind of… sort of… comforting.

He knew that it was very, very bad to feel comforted by the person who was tormenting him, but he could worry about that later. Right now, it was the only source of comfort he had.

———

The Spider Queen could not believe she was in this position. 

A part of her was still regretting her decision to not just eat the little brat, but she couldn’t deny that the long term effects of keeping him around would be better all around. Eating him would give her a short term energy boost, but keeping him around and taking energy day by day… that would give her the power to reclaim her empire.

The problem she had known she would face before the little monkey even woke up the first time, of course, was that he would make things difficult. He would try to run, he would fight, he wouldn’t just let her do what she needed to.

So now here she was. A queen having to play babysitter.

This was just sad.

She couldn’t deny that eventually, when the little monkey was actually trained, all would be well. She did love the idea of having a pet, after all.

But training him was already proving to be a hassle. The brat had actually had the fucking nerve to kill some of her children. That was absolutely and completely unacceptable.

She nearly killed him on the spot.

But she had to be patient.

His arachnophobia, luckily, did make punishing him that much easier. Hello, she was the queen of spiders for a reason. She hardly had to lift a finger to punish him.

But at times like this, when he was crying his little eyes out, and she had to do something to get him to be more dependent on her, it was just fucking annoying. 

Petting his hair, rolling her eyes in frustration as he sobbed, she just wanted to throw the brat back in the cell. But that wouldn’t get her her power, and that wouldn’t gain her a pet. 

If this wasn't worth it in the end, she was going to go feral.

Ugh. If the dreadful little thing didn’t stop crying pretty soon, she didn’t know what she would do.

In the moment, seeing him squirm and scream as her spiders crawled all over him had been extremely satisfying.

She was holding onto that satisfaction very tightly as she attempted to calm him down.

She was almost tempted to choke him again, if it would get him to shut up.

But that wouldn’t help to remold him, so for now, this would have to do.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Protea (Part 13)

She avoids Mohi’s if only to avoid distressing Kaz any further. She pretends like she is busy and overwhelmed by her very first job. That she needs to focus on it so she doesn’t mess it up lie the last few jobs she’s had. Mohi and Zenyul trust her whole heartedly. It hurts terribly. She doesn’t deserve that kind of trust.

She knows it. Kaz knows it.

And so she spends most of her time at the palace and with Mai, hoping that Mohi doesn’t resent her fro growing distant. She thinks that maybe it is some sort of defense. To create that distance. To show herself out before they can show her out.

Working with Mai and tending to the flowers is a welcome distraction. Mostly she doesn't think too much about Kaz.

Mostly she doesn't think about him until he enters the shop. She is at the back of the shop, poking seeds into soil when Mai calls, "your brother is here."

For one small moment she thinks that Mai is referring to Zuko and her heart gives an anxious leap. She finishes patting the soil over the seed and wanders up to the front.

"Oh. Hi Kaz." She can't even manage to feel slightly enthusiastic to see him.

"Did you guys have a fight or something?" Mai asks in a whisper.

"I think."

"How can you not tell? Either you had a fight or you didn't."

But she isn't good with feelings, isn't good at understanding them. "I'm not mad at him." She replies.

"But he's mad at you?"

Snapdragon nods.

"I can finish planting the seeds if you two need a minute or you can step outside."

Snapdragon nods again.

Mai finishes handing her last customer his flowers and disappears into the back of the shop. Snapdragon brushes her fingers over nearby petals. "I made a bouquet for Mohi's birthday.” “And?”

"I want to come home for Mohi's birthday."

"Is that a demand or a question, princess." He sneers.

"A...request?" Snapdragon replies. "I made an arrangement with her favorite flowers." She holds up a bouquet of fake jasmine, daisy, clover, and yarrow. She will replace those with genuine flowers on Mohi's birthday. Around the boy she has tied a few yellow and white painted beads and brown and white bird feathers that she had found in her hoard. "Can you give it to her?"

"Give it to her yourself when you visit on her birthday." The way that he extends the invitation is anything but kind. It makes her think that, maybe, a silly bouquet might not be good enough. That maybe a pouch of gold coins would be a better gift. Mohi could start reclaiming the life she had sacrificed for Snapdragon. For the woman that shouldn't exist.

She watches Kaz sulk away. She never finds out what he had come there to tell her.

.oOo.

With the passing of several days, her mind has mostly sorted itself out. Snapdragon and Azula coexist well enough with Azula--as per usual--taking dominance. She attributes this mostly to the stresses and sorrows that Azula is prone to coming back in full force. They stir about in her mind until Snapdragon’s joy and enthusiasm is swept away.

But Azula finds that she rather enjoys the freedoms that Snapdragon has found for her. The ability to speak as she will and do what she will without the fear of tarnishing an immaculate reputation. She still very much enjoys being around Mohi. Mohi who ruffles her hair and gives her the affection she wishes that her own mother would afford her. Her own mother who she has seen about the palace several times now. Her own mother who loves Snapdragon more than she could ever love Azula. She is just one more reason to feign ignorance and keep up her facade.

Really, it isn’t too hard. She thinks that Snapdragon is everything and all of the freedom that she had yearned for. And now she has it. Maybe all along Snapdragon, minus eating flowers and rolling in dirt, has been the real her. The real her that she has buried so deeply. The real her that has been hindered and bogged down by crushing expectations and loneliness.

She is terrified that this loneliness will come creeping back in. Kaz hasn’t warmed up to her any and Zenyul always sides with his brother.

She is more desperate to keep their affection that she would like to admit. Desperate to keep the family she has found and the little joys. She supposes that she wasn’t thinking clearly. Had she been thinking clearly, she wouldn’t have gotten caught. Had her mind not been so fixated on salvaging her relationship with Kaz. Fixated on keeping everything from falling apart completely.

.oOo.

It is Kaz who opens the door and he tries to shut it in her face. But she didn’t walk all of that distance just to be shut out. “I said you can come for Mohi’s birthday, no other day.” Kaz grumbles, he gives the door another heave. Azula holds her ground.

“Just let ‘er in, Kaz.” Zenyul sighs.

He releases his hold so suddenly that she nearly loses her footing.

“What’s goin’ on ‘tween you two anyways?”

Azula shrugs while Kaz grumbles, “don’t worry about it.”

Mohi makes her way into the foyer, apron tied tightly around her waist, face smeared with flour and dough. Azula mood lifts if only slightly. “Where ya be at chil’.” She frowns. “Ya git yerself a job ‘n we don’t never see ya.”

“Kaz doesn’t want me here anymore.” She doesn’t particularly want to cause problems for him but she also doesn’t want Mohi to think that she has forgotten about her. “He was here first so I’ve been staying with Mai.”

Zenyul scoffs, “you’re talkin’ like one’a them nobles.”

Her tummy flutters, how is it that he can manage to make the extravagance of palace life sound so ugly and foul? “I brought a souvenir.”  She slips her hand into her pocket and draws out a small coin pouch. She holds it out to Mohi. “It’s enough to buy a place in the…uh, in the less rough area of Caldera.”  

Mohi’s eyes go wide and she clamps her hand around Azula’s wrist.

“Oh chil’ no. Ya didn’t steal this did ya?”

Technically she didn’t. It belongs to her whether or not the palace guard recognizes her. But it doesn’t belong to Snapdragon and right now she is Snapdragon. “They won’t know.” She thinks that they have so much wealth anyways that a couple of coins would go completely unnoticed.

“Chil’ ya swiping hands is gon’ git ya in trouble.” She looks terrified. “Why ya go ‘n do this?”

She shrugs. “You were supposed to live well. You were doing fine until I got here.”  She notices Kaz grimace.

Mohi cuffs Kaz on the back of the head. Kaz and Zenyul both. “I oughtta give ya a good swat too, girl! Ya should know betta then takin’ from the royal family!” She slaps the coins back into Azula’s palm. “Ya go ‘n take this back.”

“But you need it.”

“Not as much as we need ya here ‘n safe.”

Azula’s lower lip quivers. Even when she tries to do something good, she hurts people. She is beginning to recall more vividly why she had sought out the Mother of Faces to extract her memories, her face, her essence--everything that made her Azula.

“Kaz!”

The boy goes rigid.

“Why’d ya go ‘n say them thin’s to ‘er? Don’ tell me ya don’ wan’ ‘er around?”

Kaz seems to chew on his lips. “I were mad, okay?”

The imperial firebenders don’t knock. They just enter. Just as they have been trained to do. Azula feels absolutely sick. She thinks that one of the servants, likely Ami, had seen her slip out of the treasury. She wasn’t careful. She was foolish and impulsive. She has made things worse.

“I don’ think it’s okay.” Mohi shakes her head. She squeezes Azula’s hand. “Oh chil’, ya didn’t have ta do that.”

.oOo.

They handle her roughly. More roughly than even Snapdragon is used to. Snapdragon may have been lower class filth but she was never a criminal. She is a criminal now though and they have very little regard for her comfort. Her wrists are bruised from their grip and her knees are bruised and scraped from having been shoved to the floor of her new cell.

“I’ll admit, it takes nerves, a certain fire, to steal from the royal family.” One of the guards sneers.

“Never liked that one.” Says the other. “Never liked the glum one either.”

And she is left in darkness, with metal clamped around her hands and feet. It weighs them down so heavily that she thinks they may break. She lays with her cheek pressed against the chilly dirty floor.

She can tell them who she is, but she can’t imagine that they would believe her. They won’t let her show them her fire.

She believes that two or three days pass before she sees anyone aside from the guard delivering her sorry excuse for a meal.  It is so terribly lonely and so dreadfully cold. She misses her freedom. At night she dreams of her factory, of making it to the very top.

She misses the wind in her hair as she leaps from building to building. It dawns on her that she hasn’t done parkour in a good long while. She had taken the simple life for granted. And now she is more restricted than she has ever been. She feels horrible for thinking so, but she wishes that she had never run into Mai again.

At one point she hears Mai arguing for them to let her see her girlfriend and she feels guilty twice over. “Wait until Zuko gets back, wait until he hears about this!” She had vowed. Azula can’t name another instance where Mai had been this passionate. It earns her no prize. No prize save for, “oh I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear that you brought a thief into the palace.”

Her stomach is rumbling softly by day five. They have neglected to feed her for the past few days. She begins to wonder if they plan on leaving her to die. She doesn’t remember any laws that punish thieves so steeply, but then she hadn’t really paid attention to exactly what penalties thieves, traitors, and murderers received.

The door to her cell opens. She doesn’t move. Even if she wanted to, the shackles keep her tethered to the floor. The light that spills onto her face is blinding after nearly a week without any light at all.

She doesn’t try to get up, even when the shackles clunk to the floor and away from her wrists and ankles. When she doesn’t move at all, the figure comes closer. She flinches as hands pull her to her feet. These hands are very gentle. Very caring. Those hands pull her into a little hug. “The coins were returned, I don’t see the point in keeping you in here.” Speaks a very familiar voice. “And treating you like this.” She detects a scowl in the woman’s voice. The same sternness that she usually addresses Azula with. But Snapdragon, as far as Ursa knows, is not Azula. And so her voice becomes light again, “let’s get you cleaned up and something to eat.”

Azula winces with each step. But she is very intent on simply walking it off. Walking it off, at least until her ankle twist and she buckles to the floor.

Her mother catches her and gives a wince of her own. “We’ll get you to the infirmary and then get you something to eat. We can get you cleaned up later.”

She scoops Azula up and Azula shakes her head. “I’m fine, I can walk myself.” She insists.

Ursa purses her lips. “Your ankles are very swollen, I shouldn’t have let you walk so soon.”

“I can walk, I’m not weak. I can…”

“Maybe you can.” Ursa smiles. “But you don’t have to. The sooner we get you to the infirmary, the sooner you will get to see Mai and--what was her name--Mohi?”

Azula nods, “Mohi isn’t in trouble, is she?”

“Mohi and her sons are safe.” Ursa replies as she lays Azula upon a vacant infirmary bed. She beckons for a doctor. “Why did you steal from the treasury, Snapdragon?”

“Mohi needed the coins.” She replies.

“Zuko is a generous Fire Lord, you could have asked him. You could have asked me.”

Maybe if Azula hadn’t resurfaced, she would have considered those to be options. Maybe if she didn’t forget that Zuko doesn’t have anything against Snapdragon… Maybe if Azula didn’t exist at all.

She closes her eyes.

Ursa sighs, “you like your independence, don’t you?”

She nods, supposing that, that is a part of it. Even if it is a small part.

And Ursa gives a small laugh. “I guess that, that’s a firebender’s curse. We can never just ask for help or talk about how we feel.”  She takes Azula’s hand.

“I don’t know how to ask for help.” Azula admits. She knows that she needs it so badly and for so many reasons. But she doesn’t know how to request it. Even Snapdragon didn’t really know how to reach out…

Ursa gives her head a sad and small shake. “You’re quite different than her, but you remind me of my daughter.”