sorry it drives me crazy how many people r invested in only the crazy psycho killer grimdark edgelord aspect of dark urge like they aren’t the forefront of a beautifully crafted narrative about nature versus nurture. the person you want to be versus the person you cannot stop being. how late is too late for you? does sunk cost apply if the price was paid in blood? can you deny the very purpose of your existence? is this what love truly is, and is what you were given before a mere imitation of affection? what if i fucking exploded

'til queendom come, ch. 7

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 10,004

ch. 7, pariah: "It is about time you young ones learned what it is to play the long game. Now is not the time for the rashness and hot blood of youth. It is time to dig in before winter and lay plans, Lady Visenya. Will you trust me on that?"

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse (including against minors), spoilers for HoTD/F&B

a/n: each and every ask, reply, reblog puts a gigantic grin on my face, guys, so thank you so so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Once the maester came to tend to her father, Sena did not waste any time in using the distraction to slip out of Dragonstone. The wind on the rolling moors before the keep’s walls was ice cold and it penetrated Sena’s dress like so many knives. She wrapped her arms around herself, her splinted one still aching angrily, and carried on up the incline to the smoking home of her family’s dragons.

The tunnel she found was a familiar one, and the skeletal remains of fish and seabirds littered the floor as she retreated into the cave. It was dark. So dark. And cold. The blackness was only broken by a thin few shafts of light penetrating the ceiling. She usually would have asked Grey Ghost for light, but she did not find him there. He was not coiled in the cavern, dozing safely and happily, knowing as sure as the sun rises in the east that it was only his master who approached him. His master, his only friend, who would never let harm come to him.

Sena’s chest started to constrict and spasm and she threw her weight down onto the cavern floor.

The sobs started wracking her body like they were being drawn from the depths of her stomach, the marrow of her bones. Her throat felt raw and her cheeks stung as she swiped at them angrily. She could not draw breath, could do nothing but gasp and pray desperately to every God she knew of that she would find air. The sounds that were shredding their way out of her throat echoed off of the rocks around her and bounced back to her ears like the wails of a ghost.

Maybe she was a ghost, doomed to haunt this smoking isle forever, lonely and lost. Try as she might to pretend otherwise, she was still little more than that sad child who fifteen years ago had wandered off into the hills, searching for a fabled dragon of the fisherfolk who was as alone in the world as she was.

The last few moons were nought but a bleak blur in her head. It had been savage blow after savage blow. Aemond, her poor, sweet uncle, Aegon’s crowning, Luke, Grey Ghost… and now this.

She had promised Jaehaerys they would race his uncle and sister on her own Grey Ghost. Now… now Aemond seemed an entire world away, and Grey Ghost was dead at her hands, and poor Jaehaerys. It did not bare thinking about. A tiny blood-soaked body… Helaena screaming.

Sena hit her hands off of the cave floor until they were raw and bleeding. She screamed and screamed until her voice failed her, throwing every rock and shard of bone she could lay her hands on, listening to them ricochet in the dark.

Her father. 

The wet arc of his blood spattered across the front of her gown.

The split in her lip that leaked her own blood onto her tongue. The aching of her jaw where her father had struck her.

She needed to move. The castle garrison would come looking for her soon, once Prince Daemon was bandaged. When they asked the guards on the walls and found out she’d made for the Dragonmont, the empty haunt of her lost dragon would be the first place they checked. She had to move.

The only problem was that she could not see anything. Her hands were aching, her left arm had lost much of its sensation, and she was desperately cold, shivering even as she dragged in ice cold air like a dying man. Was this how Grey Ghost had always felt, like he was stumbling around in the dark? This was how she had killed him, flying him into a storm and taking his sight from him.

She got to her feet shakily. The cold air of the Dragonmont felt like knives in her chest. She needed to find somewhere safe to hide, somewhere in the smoking hill. Somewhere closer to the molten veins, far from the surface, far from where the Queen’s guards could find her.

Would she hang for it, she wondered? What sentence would the Queen pass down for an attempt on her consort’s life? Hanging was probably too kind - if they did it right, it would snap her neck and end it all instantly. No, her father would not like that. Maybe it would be Caraxes? The Blood Wyrm would do it, certainly - he held no love for her, did not even tolerate her like Vhagar did. But then, her father’s words rung in her head like a struck bell. He had no intention of wiping her from the face of the earth until he had first hurt her each way he could.

She would not be a prisoner until that day came, she decided.

The floor of the Dragonmont was uneven and slippy beneath her feet, damp in the cool air of the nearing winter. Her cotton dress and shift were like a paper shield against the penetrating cold, so she pushed forward, up the connecting passage and deeper into the heart of the hillside. She felt her away along the wall, probing carefully with her feet before her with every step so as not to be caught unawares by a sudden drop. Meagre sunlight broke up the darkness when it could, but she was mainly on her own, her eyes straining for any kind of guidance.

It was while she fumbled in the dark that she first heard a low growl. Fuck. She was just trying to find warmth, light, not step on the tail of a sleeping dragon-

The grumble grew louder and she crouched into the wall, as if it could give her any cover. It had to be one of the bigger dragons she had stumbled across, as the sound was distant and echoing, like it was coming from overhead. Not Syrax, Vermax or Tyraxes. She winced. Maybe Caraxes was about to put a swift end to her after all. “Lyks,” she hissed urgently. “Lyks. Lykiri.” Peace. Calm down. She crouched down before the beast, making herself small, willing the racing of her heart to slow.

The dragon did not set fire to her, at least. Not straight away. Recognising its own tongue, the blood of the dragon, the way she was only sitting somewhere close by and not actively trying to come nearer, was enough to get the beast to settle some.

Sena let out a long breath and calmed her racing heart. “Nyke jeldan naejot sagon mērī,” she said, I wanted to be alone. “Kesan daor jenigon ao.” I will not bother you.

The dragon grumbled its assent. The cavern was warmer, at least, with the great beast’s breath filling the air, and Sena felt her shivers subside as she set herself down on the stone. The floor radiated a little heat, closer to the glowing heart of the Dragonmont. She could stay here - for awhile, at least.

She focused on her breathing. In and out. That was it. That was all she had to do.

-----

Sena had no idea how long it was before she heard boots approaching and distant calls of “Lady Visenya?” Men’s voices. More than one. The castle garrison. As soon as the dragon she shared her cavern with heard, it shifted in the dark and growled, low and menacing.

The steps in the hallway faltered. “Careful,” one man hissed to another. “That one doesn’t sound friendly.”

“We have to find her,” the companion hissed. “We can’t go back to the Queen empty-handed.”

“We won’t go back to the Queen at all if we get torched.”

The second man made a sound and said, “C’mon, then, craven. We’ll look for her elsewhere.”

The footsteps retreated again.

Sena could feel the dragon’s gaze on her, the beast’s steady breathing causing her skirts to ruffle a little. She hoped the beast would not decide her to be more hassle than she was worth and just torch her there and then.

It wasn’t until many hours later that she heard someone approaching again. She’d been passing in and out of a light sleep, her thoughts exhausting her and her stomach starting to growl. But she heard light feet on the hallway she had come down, and the dragon sharing the cavern stirred once more, growling at the incomer.

“Lykiri,” came a woman’s voice. “Nyke māzigon isse lyks.” I come in peace.

The woman bore a torch, and blinding light flickered across Sena’s field of vision for the first time in hours. She flinched and averted her eyes. Gods, could no one in this damned family leave well enough alone?

Princess Rhaenys stood at the mouth of the cavern, her eyes catching on Sena’s crouched form with an unreadable look on her face. “There you are, my lady,” she said. “You’ve had the entire castle garrison and all the family scouring Dragonstone for you all day.”

Sena gritted her teeth at the idea of Jace, Baela and Rhaena knowing what she had done and being made to search the entire isle for her. “The dragon kept the garrison away.’

“He could do that, yes,” the Princess raised her torch, and the light caught on a truly fearsome beast, bronze in colour and twice the size of Sena’s Grey Ghost. The dragon peered at Rhaenys through a slit of eyelid, then lay his head down to go back to sleep, unbothered by the intrusion. “He was my grandfather’s mount, once upon a time. I flew across the realm upon Meleys with him on a royal progress, when I was a young woman. The same progress where I told my grandfather I intended to marry Lord Corlys.”

Sena gazed up at the bronze beast in wonder. “Vermithor?” She breathed. The name was like legend in her family. The mount of her great-grandfather, Jaehaerys I, the progenitor of all living Targaryens and the greatest King their House had put on the Iron Throne. The King who seized back power and restored order to the Seven Kingdoms after his father’s throne was usurped by Maegor the Cruel. The Conciliator. It had been Vermithor who bore Jaehaerys I across the realm, from the North to the Stormlands, cowed his enemies and sired clutches of eggs that had birthed many of their current dragons.

Rhaenys had a wistful look in her eye. “Those were better days,” she said, and looked down at where Sena still huddled on the cavern floor. “If you had told me then as a young woman that my good, kind Uncle and bawdy, courageous Aunt would sire a man like your father… I would have been too naive to believe you.”

Daemon never told her about her grandfather and grandmother, Baelon the Brave and Princess Alyssa. Truthfully, she thought he struggled to speak of them. Childbirth scared her father - he had not been with Rhaenyra through any of her births after losing both his mother and his second wife to the birthing bed. And if someone who seemed so destined for greatness as her grandfather Baelon could die of something as menial as a burst belly… she sometimes thought it had put a recklessness in her father, a distaste for patience, reserve, morality. He could die at any moment and it weighed on his mind constantly. It made him dangerous. “So you’re not here to drag me back to Dragonstone and clap me in chains then?”

Rhaenys gave her a wry look. “If I was, I wouldn’t waste time by standing here talking to you, girl,” she said. “Your father has left for his troops in the Riverlands. The Queen commanded him to stay and heal, but he is as wilful as he is foolish.”

“’Twas only a letter opener,” Sena said darkly, “he’ll live.”

“I can’t decide if you meant to kill him or not. Lord Corlys thinks you did. My grandchildren think you did not.”

“I knew I couldn’t. Like I said, it was only a letter opener. I just… wanted him to feel the fear he inflicts on others,” Sena said, rubbing at her eyes with the backs of her hands. There were still specks of blood on them, she noted with a grim smile. “So I guess there isn’t an answer to your question.”

Rhaenys nodded, as if that was answer enough. “Are you going to come back down to the keep for supper and a salve on that bruise or shall I have to send your sisters up with a plate?” She asked. “The Queen will not punish you tonight. The immediate threat to Daemon’s life is over and I do not think she would wish to lose the loyalty of any more dragonriders.”

Sena looked at her, really looked at her. Took in the snow white streaks in her hair and the fine lines on her face. She envied the Princess her wisdom, she realised with a pang. She envied the assuredness and the strength that Rhaenys walked through the world with. The kind of certainty you only get from having your world fall to pieces and putting it back together many times over the years. The assuredness that nothing in life was unsalvageable if you knew how to pick through the rubble. Sena did not know if she was strong enough to make it as far as the Princess had, not if her next twenty years were to be anything like her first. “Am I supposed to just go back to normal? Pretend nothing’s happened?” She asked and her voice was hoarse from the screaming.

“No,” the Princess said, shaking her head. “I am not asking you to do that. But it is about time you young ones learned what it is to play the long game. You will not get your revenge today, my lady… or tomorrow, or in the next moon, or maybe even next year. Now is not the time for the rashness and hot blood of youth - you tried that today and it failed spectacularly. It is time to dig in before winter and lay plans, Lady Visenya. Will you trust me on that?”

Sena considered her and thought about it. It was true, rashness had not prevailed today. Her father was still breathing and more livid than ever, even if he had run off to the continent to lick his wounds. She also knew she had lost much of her favour with the Queen. Not that she could truly care who liked her, not while Helaena was leagues away, drowning in agony and grief. But if she wanted to stop this war, wanted to stop the pain, the death, wanted to right the wrongs that had been done to her and the people she loved… she sighed. “I guess I had best keep my strength up, if it’s the long game we’re playing,” she said and pushed herself up from the ground, a little wobbly.

Rhaenys gave her the barest hint of a smile. “Now you’re getting it.”

After that day, Rhaenyra was loathe to be in Sena’s presence. Whether it was fear or anger or shame, Sena did not know. But truthfully, she did not mind. She too could not stand to be in the presence of a Queen who either had not known that Daemon had set his eyes on Prince Jaehaerys or had elected to ignore it. So Sena trained instead, and helped train Jace and Joffrey and Baela, and wandered the Dragonmont when she needed some quiet, some time alone. And with every meal and prayer and parry and heartbeat, she thought of Helaena. 

Helaena, Alicent, Aegon, Daeron… Aemond.

The maester to her father’s army reported his swift recovery. Targaryen blood burned out infection better than all others and she had clearly missed everything vital. Sena made a grim mental note to herself to study the veins and arteries of the neck when she got the chance. 

Harrenhal fell quickly to Prince Daemon’s burning wrath, and by all reports it set the green council ablaze. Ser Otto Hightower was dismissed from the Tower of the Hand, with Ser Criston Cole taking up his office and the Usurper’s armies being ordered to march. It seemed the war of words was well and truly over, and the storm of swords was about to begin.

It was the day that Maester Gerardys removed the splint from Sena’s arm and she was testing out her healed arm that a new line of dominoes began to fall. She had managed to dress herself and was overjoyed at being able to wear her favourite gowns again when her handmaiden, Sophey interrupted her. “Pardon me, m’lady, but the Queen is requesting your presence at the war table.”

Sena looked up, shocked. “Are you sure?” She asked Sophey and the doe-eyed girl nodded hurriedly. What could Rhaenyra possibly want with her at the war table? She had not spoken to Sena in two long moons and this was how she chose to break the silence? “Okay,” Sena nodded stiffly. “I’ll be right behind you.”

When she entered the makeshift throne room in Dragonstone’s great hall, she curtseyed low to the Queen. Rhaenyra was more gaunt than the last time Sena had seen her, clearly was not sleeping well, and let Sena stay crouched in a curtsey for a moment, seemingly deciding whether or not to relieve her legs. “Rise,” she commanded eventually, coldly, and Sena’s thighs burned with relief as she followed the order.

Around the war table, the Queen, Prince Jacaerys, Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys were focused on the small corner of the map they currently stood in, the mouth of Blackwater Bay. Sena could see black dragons on Dragonstone, Driftmark and Harrenhal, showing their forces, and a green dragon advancing up the coast. “What news do we have?” She asked, drawing close to the table to observe the troop positions.

“Duskendale has been sacked,” Lord Corlys said, “with heavy casualties for us and the death of a member of the Queen’s black council. Now, Ser Criston Cole lays siege to Rook’s Rest, and Lord Staunton is asking for our aid.” He slid the letter across the table to Sena, who took it up to read it. 

Some 3000 knights, men-at-arms and sellswords at the gates of a town garrisoned by a hundred men, and that was not even considering the usurper-king on dragonback. It did not look good for Lord Staunton. “Then we should send dragonriders. The greens are attacking our declared allies to prevent further defection in the Reach, the Riverlands, the Crownlands. If we are to gain more supporters, we must defend the ones we already have.”

“Our allies?” The Queen bit out. “You still count yourself amongst our number after making an attempt on the life of your Queen’s consort, your own father?”

“Mother,” Jace warned in a stiff tone.

“It’s alright, Jace,” Sena placated him with a small smile. He looked so grown, standing there in his fine wool and steel, his brow adorned with a circlet. “It seems as though I’m here because you are asking me for help. Is that right?” She asked the Queen, who looked away from her with a flicker of rage.

Lord Corlys seemed to be suppressing a weary sigh when he said, “Yes, my lady.”

“What do you want from me?” She asked and eyed Princess Rhaenys. She remembered her words in the Dragonmont that day - that it was time to dig in and lay plans. Sena would not end this war today or tomorrow, as much as she might wish it. But if she was to have any hand in it coming to an end sooner rather than later - fuck whoever sat on the damnable throne in the end - it was high time she rolled her sleeves up and started incurring favours and loyalties.

Princess Rhaenys gave her a knowing smirk, and Sena felt a burst of pride. It was high time she sharpened up and learned to play. Aemond would be proud. “We think it is time you claimed another dragon and joined me in defending Rook’s Rest.”

Sena raised her eyebrows and looked to Lord Corlys, who was clearly in on the plan, eyeing his wife. The Queen was stoney faced, and Jace seemed even less pleased. “Do we have a shortage of dragonriders on Dragonstone?” Sena asked, a little perplexed.

Jace frowned unhappily and was ready to speak up when his mother silenced him with a hand. The Queen met Sena’s gaze. “Baela’s Moondancer is much too young to go to war. Rhaena has no dragon, no experience as a dragonrider and I will not put my sons into the monstrous paths of my half-brothers again. Nor will I risk making them orphans by going myself.” The implication that by comparison Sena was expendable was clear.

“I also have no dragon,” Sena said. He died, trying to save your son, she longed to say. “Aegon’s beast is young, still not so large. Smaller than my Grey Ghost. The Red Queen is more than a match, Princess,” she told Rhaenys.

“Nothing is ever so certain when dragons dance, my lady,” Rhaenys said grimly. “If we can stack the deck in our favour, we ought to. Make a decisive victory of it and shatter Cole’s advance.”

Sena considered it. “What dragon did you have in mind?” She asked. “We have a number of riderless ones. Will it be a case of wandering the Dragonmont like it is the Street of Silk until one takes a liking to me?” She got a hint of a smile out of Jace at that.

“I think one already has,” Princess Rhaenys said dryly. She was a somewhat humourless woman, Sena thought, and found she liked that about her. “My grandfather’s mount is not a kindly beast. He is ferocious, only tolerates my presence because I have been around him and pulling at his tail since I was out of swaddling clothes.” Lord Corlys looked a little horrified at that, as members of other houses were wont to when they heard of children playing with dragons. “The fact that he did not eat you that day I found you in his cavern is enough indication to me that you could be a good match.”

Sena thought of the gigantic beast, the colour of beaten bronze, large enough to ride a horse down his gullet, and shivered. “Just because he liked me enough not to make a meal of me does not mean he will let me ride him or command him,” she said. “Even if he did, we would need time to bond so I could control him. Time we do not have. I will not have a repeat of what happened above Storm’s End.”

Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys and Jace all stiffened at the mere mention of Storm’s End, and the implication that it had not been entirely under Prince Aemond’s control. It was so much easier to hate him, call him One-Eye and kinslayer if they could believe him to be evil to the core. But for the love she still bore the Prince, Sena would not have it. The Queen glared at her. “On the contrary, that might be exactly what we need. Put an end to the Usurper and I’ll make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

“I do not see what that would achieve,” Sena said coldly, her tongue dripping with acid. “I am already rich, and Aegon has heirs… unless we were planning on murdering Aegon’s other infant son, as well.”

Queen Rhaenyra gripped the model black dragon in her hand hard enough to splinter and clenched her jaw. “If that’s what it takes,” she said, but it sounded weak to Sena’s ears, like she could not bring herself to mean it.

Rhaenys looked like she was stifling an eye roll at their dramatics. “This war will not be ended by cutting off a single head, for two more will always grow in its place,” she said plainly. “We need to do this with force, with decisiveness. And with unity.”

Sena sighed and looked across the table at her cousin. Rhaenyra looked tired and broken. “If my Queen will have me, I will join this fight, Princess.”

Rhaenyra looked up at her from across the table and her expression was conflicted. So vengeful, and yet Sena thought faintly that it was not directed at her. She was just unlucky enough to be close at hand, catching the brunt of it. “I will have you,” Rhaenyra breathed, and Princess Rhaenys gave a barely audible sigh of relief.

Sena nodded at her cousin, then looked down at her dress. “I guess I had better go change, then.”

-----

The morning was brisk as Sena pulled her dragon-hide gloves into place. The leather under her chainmail felt strange on her body, too stiff, too new. The armour was an inky black and her breastplate was emblazoned with the crest of her family, a crimson three-headed dragon reaching for its own tail. As she stalked up the incline to the Dragonmont, she prayed to every god who would listen that Vermithor would be in a pliant mood.

Thrice. That was how many times she had ridden Vermithor so far. She could barely even work the chains on his saddle that kept him from throwing her midair. But needs must, and Rook’s Rest was in distress, so she was approaching the great bronze dragon with trepidation in her chest, ready to meet Rhaenys and Meleys on the cliffside.

Vermithor surveyed her with amber eyes as she entered his dwelling. He was still young enough not to be as sluggish as Vhagar and that made her even more nervous, being surveyed by a dragon big enough to swallow her whole, nimble enough to catch her off her guard and interested enough to bother doing it. “Lykiri,” she commanded as Vermithor’s tail flicked with irritation at being disturbed once again. It had been some five-and-twenty years since the Old King’s death, and Vermithor had grown used to being his own master. “Dohaerās.” 

The dragon did not seem pleased to see her but did not protest as she started the long clamber up his wing and onto his back. As soon as she brought him back from Rook’s Rest, she would be adding some sort of ladder to his saddle, but there was no time for that now. With a grunt, she jumped and caught the stirrup and back of the saddle with her hand and elbow, and her left arm twinged as she dragged herself up. Undignified, but worth it to be riding one of the largest dragons her House had ever hatched. That was, if she could control him and not accidentally set a killing machine on the people of Rook’s Rest. She had some comfort in the fact that Vermithor was familiar with Rhaenys and Meleys - at least they would be safe from whatever carnage she unwittingly unleashed.

The ground shook as Vermithor moved, and he clawed his way forward, out of his cavern and onto the side of the Dragonmont. When he met the fresh sea air, he let free a deafening roar that almost had Sena clapping her hands over her ears. She hurriedly fastened the saddle chains to her armour before he could take flight and throw her off with a well-timed flick of his tail. “Gīda,” she commanded the beast. Calm. Whatever good that would do.

Above her on the side of the Dragonmont, Sena saw the vibrant red of Meleys emerging from her cave and a sharp salute from the Princess. “Are you ready?” Rhaenys bellowed down the hillside.

“As I’ll ever be,” Sena gritted out below her breath. Then, “Sōvēs,” she commanded the dragon in a strong tone, and the bronze giant lurched forward. His size meant he was not so manoeuvrable as Grey Ghost, and instead used the sea cliffs to drop off of to take to the air. Sena’s heart lurched every time he did it, pitching them both over the edge and letting them fall for seconds that felt like hours. Then, with a solid, swooping beat of his wings, they would soar up, up into the clouds.

Meleys followed behind her on the wind as Sena turned Vermithor due west. It would not be a long flight - as they climbed into the sky, she could practically see Rook’s Rest on the horizon - but every moment, her heart was in her throat.

It was bizarre, to ride a dragon this large. Larger than her father’s own Caraxes, larger than Syrax and Vermax put together. Vermithor’s wings covered vast swaths of the bay, blotting entire islands from Sena’s view, and sometimes, when she pulled at him or bellowed commands, she felt like she was trying to reign in a glacier, so vast and uncaring was the beast.

She could do this, though. She needed to believe it. If she was to have any chance at putting a stop to this bloodshed and torment, she would need to be riding a dragon like Vermithor. The only thing her family ever bowed to, the thing they had been wielding as a weapon for more than a century now was the pure, unadulterated power given to them by their dragons. Without them, they were nothing.

After some time in the air, with Meleys close behind, Rook’s Rest drew closer until it was beneath them. From here, Sena could see the town’s walls and the thousands of soldiers marshalled outside, laying siege and blockading every road in and out.

Trying out her control of him, she commanded Vermithor lower and he swooped down over the King’s army. She squinted her eyes and could make out dragon banners, mounted knights, men at arms. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and turned to the sky to watch the two dragons circling overhead, one a vicious red and the other monstrously large. Sena’s breath caught in her throat when she laid eyes on Sunfyre - proclaimed to be the most beautiful dragon to have ever lived. He was a fine beast and shone like beaten gold against the burnt ground he coiled on, watching his kin circle above him with lazy interest.

Sena sighed and commanded Vermithor down to land in the town square. It was barely big enough - she gritted her teeth as smallfolk rushed out of the way and Vermithor’s tail knocked the top of the spire off of a sept, but she was suddenly surrounded by gasps of relief and cheering, so she guessed she was forgiven.

She met Lord Staunton in his keep with Princess Rhaenys. He was beyond relieved to see them - the people of Rook’s Rest would have needed to start slaughtering the horses to keep eating if relief had not arrived soon, he informed them. “Relief is here,” Princess Rhaenys said, standing tall in her armour and doing her best to calm him.

There was little to be done to calm anyone when the letter from the encampment outside arrived, however.

Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men and Protector of the Realm requests the presence of the Bronze Dragon at parlay. In one hour, a pavilion will be erected before the gates of Rook’s Rest. Guest right will provided in the form of bread and salt so that negotiations may proceed peacefully and safely for all parties.

The Bronze Dragon. Sena gripped the letter in her hands and nodded at Rhaenys. It had been what they wanted. They had hoped that Vermithor’s mere presence would be enough to scare off the enemy and end the siege without blood being shed. She could only hope that Aegon would be smart about this. “I will go-“

“I will come with you, my lady,” Princess Rhaenys said firmly. Sena’s pride smarted at that. The Princess caught her look and sighed. “I mean no offence but in these matters, you remain as green as grass.” 

Sena set her jaw, knowing that Rhaenys meant it in more ways than one. 

Within the hour, a pavilion was hastily erected before the town gates, and Sena and Rhaenys approached under a peace banner. Their dragons stayed inside the town but the women remained armed for their own protection.

Sena ducked under the tent flap and came face to face with Aegon and Ser Criston for the first time in many moons. Aegon could not be said to look kingly - he was as gaunt and tired-looking as ever - but he was still the handsome lad she remembered and he sent her a menacing grin. Ser Criston nodded his head at her but showed little warmth despite knowing her from girlhood. The badge of his new office shimmered on his cloak. 

Both men were less impressed when Rhaenys followed behind her. Aegon huffed and poured them wine, which they hastily ignored in favour of the bread and salt Ser Criston pushed towards them across the table. Sena chewed at the dry heel of loaf the enemy had scrounged up and grimaced at the salt on her tongue. Aegon might have been enough of a cur to not care for the symbolic protection of guest right, but Ser Criston was nothing if not a stickler for the rules. When it suited him, at least.

“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenys asked as soon as she had swallowed her own guest right. 

It was Aegon who spoke, leaning forward in his seat. He shone from neck to toe in polished plate, his circlet of Valyrian steel and rubies nestled in his silver blonde hair and the other ancestral blade of their house hung at his hip. Sena was not fooled. It would take more than Blackfyre and the crown of the Conqueror to make Aegon a King. “We simply wish to give you an opportunity to turn tail and leave before things get… messy,” he said with his familiar lilting smirk.

“It’s more than you gave Prince Jaehaerys,” Criston cut in, surveying them both stonily.

Sena clenched her jaw and Rhaenys balked at that, going pale in the face and rounding on Aegon. “If it is mercy you speak of, what sort of mercy did your mad dog of a brother show my grandson?” She spat.

Aegon grinned at the mere reminder of Lucerys’s fate and it only set Rhaenys further on edge, reaching for the hilt of her blade. Sena laid a hand on her arm to stop her, trying to catch her gaze with a glare. Where were her lectures about rashness and hot blood now? Was it just that she did not know Aegon? Did not know how purely aggravating and contemptuous he could be?

But it was Ser Criston who spoke up, cutting through the thick tension between the Princess and the would-be King. “Careful, Princess. You speak of someone who is very dear to all those around you,” he said, and Sena glared at him, her cheeks flaring with shame.

Aegon looked at her and smirked at the embarrassment on her face. “Everyone knows, goodsister. It’s alright.”

“Shut it,” she snapped at him and Gods, if she could only reach across the table between them and clobber him with his own crown.

Ser Criston was not looking at her, though, and addressed the Princess. “We are willing to incur what casualties we must to raze Rook’s Rest to the ground, Princess. It would certainly show your allies how little the support of their so-called Queen is worth. You need only look outside this pavilion to see we are equipped to accomplish this,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed Princess Rhaenys with a hard look. “Of course, neither of us truly desires a battle where considerable life will be lost, and potentially another dragon. We would like to discuss the terms of a mutual retreat, if that is amenable.”

Sena looked at Ser Criston in confusion as he rounded the table. Mutual retreat? What in the name of the Gods was this about? It made no sense. Ser Criston offered to escort Princess Rhaenys from the tent, and rage flared inside Sena. The disrespect of it all, speaking as if she was not there-

Once they had left the tent however, Aegon turned to Sena, furious, and it all became a little clearer. “Why did you bring her? I asked for you and you alone.” 

Sena rolled her eyes. It was all a ploy. “Do you think I can command her about like a servant? Do you truly think I got a choice in the matter, fool?” 

Aegon scowled at her. “It’s King Fool to you.”

“Fine then, King Fool. Do you care to explain to me what in the seven hells this parlay is about? You don’t truly expect me to believe you would give up so easily, or expect us to,” she said, leaning over him where he sat. 

Aegon considered her for a second, clearly trying to come up with some pithy response. He eventually realised where he was, though and that time was of the essence. He cut to the chase. “He won’t fight you.”

“Who?” 

Aegon screwed up his face like he was talking with a simpleton. “Gods, Visenya, who do you think?” 

Her brow shot up. “Aem-“ 

King Fool stood up swiftly and slapped a gloved hand over her mouth, eyeing the tent flap where Ser Criston and Princess Rhaenys had been moments earlier. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed. 

Sena’s blood thundered in her ears. “He’s here?” 

“Yes,” he nodded and her heart swooped, suddenly turning her head this way and that like Aemond was going to materialise in the corner of the pavilion or pop out from under the table. “This was a trap for Meleys, but even my clever brother did not think to anticipate you swooping in on the second largest dragon in the known world. You really ought to have words with him - underestimating you like that shows a certain lack of respect, no?” 

“Aegon,” she hissed, willing him to focus. 

“Right,” he said, conceding with a nod. “So we’re at a stalemate. He does not wish to fight you - I think the whole nearly killing you the first time thing is weighing on him, y’know? And if I know this ridiculous little lovesick dance of yours well enough by now, I know you do not wish to fight him. So what does that leave us with?” 

Sena thought about it for a second, leaning down to the table to cradle her head in her hands. Aemond was here. He was near her, near enough to talk to, near enough to explain, near enough to babble apologies, touch, kiss until they were drunk on each other. “We both go home,” she breathed. The thought was agonising. “Aemond goes to King’s Landing, I go to Dragonstone.” And in the ensuing battle, Meleys would snap Sunfyre’s neck, she thought grimly.

“No way,” Aegon waggled a finger at her. “Not good enough, goodsister. I would like to propose you and Princess Rhaenys turn around and go home and leave us to Rook’s Rest. No bloodshed, no sad ballads to be written about star crossed lovers dying on each other’s swords today.” 

She scowled at him and looked around her. “Where is he? You can’t expect me to stand here and have this conversation with King Fool. Gods, even Cole would be better.” 

“No,” Aegon snapped, his expression gone hard and he looked so like his little brother in that moment that Sena’s heart leapt to her throat. “You don’t get to speak to him. You don’t get to bat your eyelashes at him and say pretty please, none of that shit. You are going to turn around, go and explain to our sweet cousin Rhaenys that the largest dragon alive is sat behind a hill five leagues away, and go home. You won’t win this fight, Sena. And I know you think I don’t care about this family, but I won’t watch my brother destroy himself by killing you.” 

“I can’t, Aegon,” she hissed, her throat burning. “I can’t counsel retreat. Don’t you think they already mistrust me enough, for how I love your sister? For how I feel about your brother? If I turn tail now, my own father will take it as a betrayal and slit my throat in my sleep.” 

Aegon looked as though he could not care less. “Not my problem, sweet Sena,” he said. “You could have switched sides anytime you liked… you still can.” 

Sena ignored that vehemently, blazing right past it. “And what if we hold fast? What if you turn around and go home?” 

“We don’t go home,” he said. He was growing weary of this now, his expression sullen. “There will be a fight if you do not retreat, Sena. And Aemond is dutiful, he will do what I command of him and turn Vhagar against you if he must. I don’t want that to happen, but the alternative is giving up the crown and losing my fucking head. Not just mine, all of our heads.” 

Sena leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess we’re at an impasse, then.” 

Aegon shook his head at her in disbelief. “Trust my brother to love the most stubborn fool in the Seven Kingdoms. It seems we are, Sena.” 

She surveyed him. The armour that was tailored to him perfectly but still did not seem to fit, the crown that was seemingly causing his neck to buckle under the weight. She eyed Blackfyre on his sword belt. Could think of few people in her family less suited to wield it. “I’ll speak to Rhaenys,” she said at long last. “If I can convince her to retreat, you will have my word by daybreak tomorrow.” 

Aegon nodded his acquiescence and sunk deep into his chair, raising his goblet to take a long gulp of wine. “Think about it carefully, Sena. And I meant what I said. Whatever you feel towards me, there will always be a place for a stubborn bitch with a big dragon in my army.” 

Sena shook her head at him and turned to leave. She paused at the tent entrance though, and her heart stuttered in her chest. She could not stop herself saying it. “I’m sorry,” she said, “about your son. He was a sweet boy.”

Aegon’s petulant manor froze and his jaw went tight. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t kill him,” he said, and she could hear a quiver in his voice.

“I’m sorry it has come to this, Aegon,” she said softly.

He frowned down into his lap and the crown slipped deeper down his brow. “So am I.”

Sena braced herself with a breath. “How is Helaena?” 

But Aegon wasn’t having it. He shook his head at her. “You have made your choice, Sena. I think you have lost the right to ask me about her.” 

“Aegon-“ she said with a pang in her chest, but he cut her off.

“Good day, Lady Visenya. Consider my terms carefully.”

-----

“There is not a decision to be made,” was Rhaenys’s answer to Aegon’s proposal over supper that night. They had been given Lord Staunton’s private dining room, and a fire crackled low in the grate, their food barely touched. Sena felt guilty for wasting what was already in short supply, but her gut was churning so much it was unthinkable to eat. “We must stand and fight.”

Sena dragged her hands through her hair with a weary sigh. “It’s not truly a decision, is it? If we turn back now, we’ve as good as lost this war. Our lives will be forfeit.” What hope did they have of suing for peace if their allies saw their words meant nothing? What leverage would they have to stop Aegon storming Dragonstone and putting them all to the sword? “And if we fight… the odds are about as even as they’re ever like to be.”

“Even? We’re still a hundred against an army.”

“The real battle is the one in the air, you know that,” Sena said, eyeing Rhaenys. Their family’s battles were fought and won with their dragons - the Conquerors had shown what little use men-at-arms were against the winged wyrms of Old Valyria.

“So it is the dragon battle you’re concerned about?” Rhaenys asked and Sena knew that was what she had been probing at all along.

Sena narrowed her eyes. “I would be a fool not to be concerned about it. I ride a dragon I have no bond with against two of my cousins, one of whom rides Vhagar.”

“It is not Vhagar you are worried about, though, is it?” Rhaenys said, leaning back in her seat and holding her wine goblet close. She surveyed Sena with hard eyes, and the words caught in Sena’s throat. Rhaenys sighed. “You shall take Vermithor against Sunfyre and I shall take Meleys against Vhagar. Do you think you can do that?” 

Sena raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, Princess, I don’t think that is a fight you can win.” There were few dragons alive who could hope to survive a bout with Vhagar and at first glance, Sena would not put Meleys among them. 

“You give me little choice, Visenya,” she said, and pushed her chair back with a scrape. She composed herself and went to leave, the matter having been decided. 

“If it was Lord Corlys,” Sena said, stopping Princess Rhaenys in her tracks. “If you found yourself on opposing sides with the Sea Snake, could you truly meet him in battle?” 

Rhaenys turned back to her and gave her a pitying look. “If what you feel for that brute is a shadow of what I feel for Lord Corlys… you are truly lost, Visenya,” she said, and Sena’s heart plummeted. The elder woman sighed, not uncaring. “And truthfully, I do not know what you are doing here.” 

Neither did Sena. 

Daybreak came and went, with no peace signed.

It was midday by the time Aegon’s vanguard made to breach the gates. Lord Staunton’s men held it valiantly and defended their position, but the two dragonriders knew that their time had come. With a nod to Rhaenys and a prayer to the Gods, Sena took to the skies upon Vermithor. No sooner had she chained herself to his saddle than she caught sight of Sunfyre rising with her, a brilliant gold-and-pink blur against the sky. She set her sights on her target and steadied herself.

It was only when she saw Vhagar’s monstrous form looming in the distance that dread flooded through her like ice water.

As Vhagar drew closer and Meleys circled above her, Sena suddenly knew for certain that this did not bode well for Rhaenys. Meleys was not a small beast by any measure, but Vhagar loomed nearly twice as large. 

Before she could intercede though, Sunfyre was tackling Vermithor and the battle in the sky begun. It was as though the brothers could read her mind exactly and knew they needed to divert her to give Aemond a chance to take down Rhaenys. 

But Sena forced it all from her mind for now and focused on her own battle. Vermithor was new to her, did not know her well enough. That coupled with Sena’s own gnawing uncertainty was enough to draw the fight between Vermithor and Sunfyre nearly equal as Meleys and Vhagar clashed behind her.

Sunfyre banked and rolled, resplendent in the high noon, missing Vermithor’s gnashing teeth by the breadth of a scale every time. Sena could hear Aegon laughing. Could hear the howls of Vhagar and Meleys tearing at each other on the wind. 

Gods be good, if this was the end, she wasn’t going to die fighting Aegon. 

Sena directed Vermithor for one more wild snatch, letting Aegon become complacent and arrogant, as he was wont to do. He was a lazy swordsman, and even bearing Blackfyre, he could not make up for the fact that his next move shone on his face like a lit beacon in winter snow. The same principle seemed to carry over into his dragonriding. Sena and Vermithor came around on Sunfyre and Aegon one more time, and, at the most logical moment for the larger dragon to dip and lunge,  she screamed “Navemanon!” into the wind. Vermithor hesitated - it was not a Valyrian command, not even a word in their tongue, but it sounded enough like it to Aegon and it worked beautifully, because whilst her dragon was confused and trying to work out what she wanted him to do, Aegon turned his entire head to the right. There. “Nābēmagon, Vermithor! Paktot!” Attack, Vermithor! Right! And as Aegon feinted right to dodge the first, false attack, Vermithor lunged with him and clamped his teeth down into Sunfyre’s wing.

The scream from the golden dragon was piercing, and it was all Sena could do not to let go to cover her ears. Vermithor gave one good shake of his head, shredding the membranes of Sunfyre’s wing, and the King’s dragon screamed, spewing flames back at Vermithor. But Vermithor was too large, his scales too thick, and with a sharp “Dracarys!” from Sena, he caught the King’s dragon in a blast of his own flame. Sunfyre roared and began to wheel desperately in circles, only born aloft on one good wing. Sena commanded Vermithor to bank so they could take a final swipe and be done with Aegon for the time being, but there was no need, as the King’s dragon was falling from the sky at speed.

That was when she caught sight of Vhagar raking her claws down Meleys’s back in the distance. There was an almighty roar from the Red Queen as steaming blood began to spurt from the wound. “No! No!” Sena screamed. Aemond would not add another dragon or another Targaryen to his headcount. Vermithor sharply banked towards Vhagar, nearly colliding midair with Meleys who was reeling in descending loops, fighting to stay airborne. To deal so much damage to such an experienced dragon so quickly… Aemond was either letting Vhagar wreak carnage as she saw fit or he was the greatest dragonrider in a century. Sena found herself not wanting to know the answer. 

She spotted Rhaenys on Meleys’s back - shaken but unharmed - and commanded Vermithor around, determined to keep Vhagar’s attention away from the failing Meleys. Vhagar seemed to have the same notion, deciding to deal with the fitter prey before finishing off the weakened one. As the two mighty dragons set on a collision course towards each other, Sena felt her blood run cold as she thought of Luke, and whether Aemond had any control of the ancient beast right now.

Sena threw herself flat against Vermithor’s back, bracing for impact, letting free a wild howl as the dragons came closer and closer. And then, Vhagar feinted left, and the force of the wind from her wingbeat would have knocked Sena clean from her saddle if she had not been chained down. The message from Aemond was clear. Stand down.

Vhagar followed a long arc downwards to where Meleys was reeling, pulling up at just the right second to catch the Red Queen’s neck in her maw. Claret blood spurted and steamed as the Red Queen gave a feeble shudder. It was too late by the time Sena brought Vermithor round and slammed down onto Vhagar. It knocked all three dragons - two living, one in the final throes of a bloody end - the last thirty feet to the ground. Vermithor and Vhagar hit the ground with enough force to knock every soldier within a league on his back. A wave of searing pain and nausea hit Sena as her head whipped off of Vermithor’s hard-scaled back, her nose burst with blood and her vision swam out of focus.

“Fuck,” was all she could manage, and Vermithor was furious at her handling of him. He roared and swung his weight in an attempt to throw her from his back, but her chains held her down. He then moved as though to roll with her still on his back, crushing her beneath his weight, and Sena’s stomach lurched, desperately pulling at the chains on her belt.

At the last second, she unhooked her entire sword belt, wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword and threw herself from dragonback.

She hit the ground hard, and Vermithor screeched once more. Her head swam as she staggered to her feet, desperately trying to drag air back into her lungs, terrified the dragon would round on her once more. But instead, free of his rider, Vermithor took his chance and rose to the sky again.

“Well, fuck you then!” She screamed after him and attempted to staunch the blood flowing into her mouth with her glove. She stood there on the field, a wide circle cleared around her where her dragon had fell, sword in hand and watching her dragon retreat West. She was utterly alone in a field of green soldiers who were staggering to their feet, watching her, waiting for orders. She was truly fucked now. Meleys was down, twitching in her last throes of death, and Sena could see no sign of Rhaenys. Sunfyre and Vhagar were down too, the former seemingly for good, the latter only dazed, somewhere on the field behind her. Sena turned to watch Vermithor’s retreating form in the sky and groaned in frustration. Vhagar would be free to torch the entire town now once she regained the air-

“Back,” snapped a commanding voice. “I’ll deal with her myself.”

Sena spun around and her heart lurched in her chest. Aegon’s troops had fallen back from her at the sharp command, Vhagar was watching her from across the field with beacon-like eyes and her rider… Aemond stood before her, sword drawn, clad in armour from head to foot. He raised the corner of his mouth in his soft smile. “Pure ingratitude,” he said, nodding at Vermithor. “Most men would kill to have you all to themselves.”

She swallowed around a lump in her throat. “I don’t know about most men,” she said and her voice was barely a croak.

“Fine, maybe I meant I would kill to have you to myself,” he said.

It was a poor choice of words and her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Her blood surged rebelliously in her veins. “You’ve killed for less.”

His expression faltered. “I have,” he said wearily, shamefully. “Lay down your sword and I’ll get a maester. Your nose needs seeing to.”

She clutched her sword tighter. “I can’t.”

He shook his head at her, looking tired. “Stop fighting,” he told her. “Please. Let me take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” She asked, her voice trembling. “You killed Luke, Aemond. And Grey Ghost-“

“I thought I had killed you.” he said, his own voice shaking, drawing closer to her. His eye was glossy. “When I watched you fall, I thought I would die with you.”

She clenched her jaw and raised her sword as he tried to approach her. She kept him at arm’s distance with the point of her blade.

He let the point of the blade catch on the centre of his chest. Met her eyes with a beseeching look. “Give up this folly, my lady. Come back to King’s Landing, come home and marry me.”

“You’re betrothed,” she bit out, and that was another part of this that stung like hell.

He shook his head in disbelief. “There’s not a woman in the world I would not spurn, not an oath I would not break for you. How can you not know that by now?”

Her eyes were swimming with tears, her knuckles gone white from how hard she was grasping her sword. “Give up everything I believe in? Give up my Queen, my sisters, my brothers, to come stand silent at your side and bear your sons? No, Aemond. No.”

He held his expression carefully blank, though she could see the bob of his throat. “You would not be you if you were so easily swayed,” he said, “but to hear you reject me so plainly, reject us and our children… it hurts more than I thought it would.”

Everything in her was shaking. She needed to end this now, before she went weak. Before she folded. Before she succumbed and pulled him into her arms.“I can’t let you take this town without a fight, Aemond. I owe it to my family, to everyone your army will put to the sword.”  Her voice was shaking. She wrapped both hands around the hilt of her sword, the point still resting against his armour.

“I understand that, Sena.”

Sena. Her name from his lips had haunted her dreams since all this began.

A breeze picked up behind him and his long hair blustered around his face. Leather, brimstone, rosemary filled her senses.

“Why did the gods make me love you, Aemond?” She asked, her voice shaking.

He smiled a sad smile as he stepped back and raised his sword. A tear rolled freely down Sena’s cheek. “Because they made me for you.”

Their swords clashed between them and at long last, they danced.

They knew this dance well, knew each other well, and it showed in each parried blow, each perfectly timed deflection and dodge. Aemond’s bare steel swung through the air on a counter and she met it with a sharp ringing sound, throwing his strength back at him and slashing with a backswing. He stepped backwards, grimacing as a few strands of silver hair were cut loose from his head, and looked at her with fire in his pretty eye. “You’re going to have to do better than giving me a haircut, issa jorrāelagon.” Sena’s heart seized. My love.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped and swung at him again. 

Time and time again, her strikes fell. And time and time again, he batted them away like he was swatting flies, but never advanced on her. She grew frustrated, grew furious and howled with rage as she swung at him again. He caught the blade inches from his shoulder and deflected it, sending a sharp glare at her, but she did not care, swinging her arms back up again-

It was Ser Criston that caught the next blow, approaching from the side. She’d been so focused on Aemond, she did not even see him approach. Neither did Aemond, his mentor coming at them from his blind side, and he flinched away from the ring of their steel meeting.

“Stand down, my lady,” Ser Criston Cole commanded her sharply. “We have you surrounded. There is no way out.”

But Sena was too angry. Seething at the thought of it all. Luke, Aegon, Jaehaerys, her father, all of it, all she wanted to do was win, just this one time. She struck out one final, savage blow at Aemond, but it was sloppy, made in anger and exhaustion. He side-stepped her easily and pulled her back sharply towards his chest with an arm around her middle.

Ser Criston Cole knocked her hard against the head with his armoured elbow and the scorched field tilted out of focus. 

Her vision spotted, her stomach rolled. The ground did not so much rush up to meet her as she was lowered to it. She thought she heard Aemond - her Aemond - murmuring in her ear. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay. Look at me. You’re okay.” She couldn’t be sure. 

But she did feel cold shackles closing around her wrists, and a murmured “Apologies, my lady,” from a misshapen blob that looked like Ser Criston Cole. 

Then, there was something sweet on her tongue, and the world went black.

taglist (dm/ask/reply to be added): @stargaryenx @trap-house-homiecide

dark urge run + romance kind of really gets to me…never doing a non dark urge run again actually…. it’s changed me. did i play games like this in my youth, was i sweet once……….pull yourself together, you wretched thing! there’s something wrong with me…..….what would be more perfect than to die by your lover’s side, and know that love was not enough!!!!!!!!! he will forget his god for you but you will not forget yours for him……..i love him. the contrast between gale’s comforting and domestic love and the dark urge seeking out his throat to wrap their hands around….each man kills the thing they love. eventually. what if i cried. what if i perished on the spot….what then!!!!!!!!

it’s: when is a monster not a monster; i have love in me the likes of which you can hardly imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe; you say i killed you-haunt me, then; to be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once; do i not live? badly, i know but i live; stronger than lover's love is lover's hate. incurable, in each, the wounds; death is the only water to wash away this dirt. etc etc etc!!!!!!!!!!!! going crazy

references: siehl, mary shelley, brontë, ocean vuong, aeschylus, euripides. i hope these are right because these are memories from when i was a lit major and when i used to read books👍🏻 i am not double checking

January 2014

I was happy for once. After December 28 and January 1, my life was peaceful and filled with happiness, but being me, happiness is always short lived.

I called up my crush, let’s hide him under the name, Jasper, excitedly. I was so eager to talk to him, and tell him how much I enjoyed December 28. When he picked up my call he asked why I was calling in a tone as if it was the first time we talked. To cut the long story short, he had a case of selective amnesia. He forgot me, everything we talked about, every “date” we went on. poof gone. It made me heartbroken. One day he talks about the possibility of us being in a relationship then the next, he doesn’t even remember his pet name for me. Ouch right? But that’s not the worst part, noooooo, he makes friends with his ex acting like they were good friends after all the terrible things he did to her. Ugh. I guess, it’s better now. For him at least, but him forgetting who I was, pushed me a little to my suicidal line.

I felt so miserable that I got sick. I didn’t have the energy to study, listen to my peers, or even to play games. I just wanted to lie down on my bed and sleep everything away. My birthday was coming up in 3 weeks and I didn’t feel any sort of excitement for it. I talked to my friend, let’s hide him under the name Matt, about my problems, about how my past was haunting me again, about how I wanted to kill myself. I was so near to it too but then that in the latter of my story. I made a mistake of telling him because it made him sympathetic and he took pity on me and said that he liked me. Now this guy admitted to me once before that he did like me, but my suicidal tendencies made him to believe that he was in love with me. Which he wasn’t. Let’s just say that I made several mistakes in a short span of a week, I drank and did things that I knew was wrong, and everything went spiraling down a tube and within the same week, he left. I felt used. So my suicide seemed more appropriate.

Turns out another guy friend of mine, Jacob, not his real name, admitted as well that he was in love with me. Like I would believe him right? So for one week he continuously texted me, while I gave him the cold shoulder. But then my birthday was coming up in a week and texted something so sweet that my heart melted right into his hands. And there I was again! Hooked on to a guy. I made efforts of going to his school in Las Pinas and I came all the way from Manila and then I would go home to Bicutan. If you know those areas you would see how my effort was. On top of it all, I sprained my ankle while walking in my campus. Yup, I am a first class klutz. But even through that injury I still gave my effort to see him because I feel in love. Hard. He gave me his first kiss. But after his intrams, he left me as well. I was reaching my point of no return, yet with every week that passed, I kept clinging on to something that everything will turn out for the best.

Well, the day came. January 23, 2014. It was a Thursday. I hated it. My friends kept saying that it seemed like I resented my birthday. Well, somehow I did because if I hadn’t been born in the first place then I wouldn’t have to be living this life. The day went on as usual. Morning class, lunch, PE, then we attended youth service at Victory U-belt. During worship, I just poured my heart out. I cried like there was no tomorrow. I felt better. Then my friends surprised me with a cupcake which one of them ate. You would think, “What a jerk!” but hey I was feeling better even though he ate it. Yeah sure I was pissed, but I was quick to forgive. Suddenly from the distance, my best friend came out with a mocha roll cake. It was an awesome surprise. It was a first for me and hopefully not the last. I gave some of my friend a mocha icing facial and we had our fun. When I got home, my father bought me a cake too. My grandfather sang me happy birthday and I felt really better. My thoughts of suicide were brushed away again and I prayed that they would never come back again.

Poor Petal, she must have had a panic attack when she found out she was pregnant for the first time.

She was downright terrified.

She broke down crying, screaming into her pillow, refusing to let Doma hold or console her. Surprisingly, he left her alone, letting her deal with her emotions on her own.

The only words he left her was, "Oh, [Name], I'm so happy. Soon, we're going to be parents, my sweet pretty petal!"

[Name] just couldn't understand how this happened. She was careful, so diligent in taking the tea every night. She began racking her mind, trying to make sense of it all, and search for a possibility why this small mistake occurred.

Until she recalled two months prior, where Doma's insatiable hunger for his wife consumed him. Like an animal in heat, he forced himself on her, ignoring her pleas to stop, releasing his fertile seed deep into her womb. Over and over again, he made sure every night she was filled with his cum, having the sole mission to make her bear his children.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma had to travel southward for demon duties and he felt this was the perfect opportunity for you both to get closer. A whole week together, all alone while he was free from his duties, a chance to finally have some quality bonding time without his cult. It was a dream come true.

However, this place was in the middle of nowhere, hardly any villages, let alone stores, around. All the sources you used to protect yourself from Doma were gone, the foods and teas you consumed to prevent a pregnancy out of reach.

The only people around were fellow upper moons, who stayed far away from your husband, especially you.

Thus, you were forced to endure his doting behavior, forced to play his dangerous games, and forced to let him breed you.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

"Pretty petal. So pretty, so beautiful. You're taking me so well, hah," Doma laughs, snapping his hips harshly, thick balls slapping against your skin. You bounced with every thrust, mewling and whimpering, begging him to slow down. It only stirred him on to go faster. "No, no, no, this is the best way to ensure maximum success with fertilizing you. I have to make sure my seed is as deep as possible inside you, my petal!"

The aching between your legs grew, arching your back as an orgasm washes over you once again. Your juices release over his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your velvet walls constrict around him. "Ah! Ah, D-Doma!"

"Mm, hngh! P-petal! Petal! Petal! " Doma whines out, biting his bottom lip, grinning like a madman as the sweet relief of climax fast approaches him. His thrusts turn sloppy and his hips stutter. Quickly, he pulls out and leaves you feeling empty for a few seconds. He grabs your legs, hooking his arms around your knees, and pushes your thighs to your chest, claws digging into your plush skin as he starts to hammer into you. "So-so good! Such a good girl! You'll be such a good mother, sweet petal! Just you wait! I'll make you a mommy, ok? Just- fuck!"

He releases long, thick ropes of cum, painting your womb white with his fertile seed once more. He thrusts weakly, head falling back as he gasps. "Mm, ah-ah, [N-Name]...!" You squeeze your eyes shut, looking to the side, swallowing bitterly as he fills you to the brim, cum leaking out as he slides in and out. It drips onto the bed, staining the pristine, red cotton sheets.

"Oh, petal, please don't look away. I want to see you," Doma croons, pulling out with a shaky breath and looking down at the mess between your legs with a grin. White painted the sheets below like a puddle. He pulls out with a groan. Seeing the way your pussy gushes out his cum, flexing around nothing, it makes him want to take you all over again. He slides two fingers up across your folds, gathering his seed, and pushing it back into your sopping hole with his fingertips. He hums whilsts you whine, rocking your hips at the weird sensation. "Such a pretty sight, you took me so well, petal. I'm so proud of you!"

He's met with silence. Though, it doesn't bother him as he already fulfilled his task for the night. After five long rounds, he believes its enough for the day and he'll repeat the process tomorrow. For now, both of you need rest, we'll, mainly you if you're going to stay awake during the whole ordeal.

You were in a daze as Doma cleaned both you and himself up, changing the sheets into soft clean ones, and covering your body with the blankets, tucking it in.

"Good night, my pretty wife," Doma whispers, taking his spot beside you, his arms slithering around your frame and pulling you close. His chest pressed against your nude back, his legs tangling in yours, and he buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath of your sweet aroma. "I love you..."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Immediately after coming back from your journey, Doma became busy, his schedule packed to the brim with orders from his master. It irritated him, saddened him even, that he would be apart from you for a while.

As much as he loved ravishing your body every night, he had to focus on completing every task with precise accuracy. He doesn't want to disappoint his master after all.

But before he left you alone the first night back, he replaced your assigned follower with a different one. One that reported back to him and carried out his orders, their loyalty to the demon overriding their morals to protect you.

He wasn't stupid. It didn't take long for him to figure out the tea you drank prevented you from becoming pregnant, a huge change to the tea he got to make you fertile. The news did upset him, but he hid the discovery and played along with your little antics. It made him try to come up with a solution, where he disguised the tea you drank to better fit his wishes.

Like an unsuspecting mouse, you walked right into the cat's claws.

Anyone who tried helping you was either eaten by Doma or killed by him in another manner. If the actions of a stupid, disloyal follower was keeping him away from his dream of having a family, the demon won't hesitate to get rid of them. They should know better.

Doma's dreams are his followers' orders.

If he says he dreamt of eating a hundred virgins, his followers should offer him the bountiful feast of meat from a hundred virgins.

If he says he dreamt of growing his cult, his followers should go out and recruit people to join them.

Now, if he says he dreams of a child with his wife, his followers should offer their help and make sure he gets his child.

By god, did they live up to his expectations for once. Everyone - from the ones who prepared your meals to the new members who brought you gifts - made sure every small action built up to the final wish of their leader's plan.

Every food and drink you consumed had been carefully chosen to help make you plump and help the baby grow. Every bath had been filled with excotic herbs to soothe your changing body. Every offering had slowly been gearing towards a human smaller than you. Yet, you never really paid attention to the small differences.

Doma noticed how tired you seem lately, how you complained to the follower assigned to you about the tenderness of your breast and the pain of your abdominal and pelvis area, and even how different you looked, almost glowing.

At first, he didn't put the pieces together. Surely all women were like this, right? Yet, that wasn't the case.

He found himself always wondering why your emotions were easily more unhinged, why you ate the foods he hand-fed you more easily, or why you were napping in the afternoon. Yes, he liked these changes and welcomed them eagerly, believing you were finally warming up to him. But why?

After nearly six weeks, you were worried why your period didn't come. You speculated the stress could have been a prominent factor in causing your late cycle, sometimes occurring in your youth. You seem bloated lately as well, you note, or it could've been weight gain due to the food you have been eating lately. Thus you brushed it off.

It'll come soon, you just know it. Afterall, you're still a human and change is a part of life.

In another area of the temple, a different situation was unfolding. When the trusted follower reported to Doma about your very late menstrual cycle, he clapped with joy like a child being entertained. Of course! How slow can he be?! You finally are carrying his child! The hormonal changes affected how you behaved with him and the sudden weight gain explained it all.

Oh, he just couldn't wait for the day to come!

However...

He had to make sure you did nothing irresponsible to push back his dream.

Doma became more strict and possessive with you. He didn't let you go anywhere alone. Even if you were in the privacy of your room, someone had to be there.

The days where you spent waiting for him in your bedroom were now spent at his side. He forced you to sit on his lap like before, feeding you more than you're used to. Any question concerning his increase of doting behavior was met with a laugh and a kiss to your cheek. "I just love you so much, I want you to be healthy!"

Doma isn't stupid. He knew the moment he mentioned, or even insinuated, you were pregnant, you would break down and possibly affect the baby negatively. He didn't know if you were capable of taking drastic measures of getting rid of it this far along, but he didn't want to find out.

With careful, watchful eyes, Doma made sure everyday you were fed well, that you were always protected, and made sure nothing upset you. He went the extra mile to find medicine and herbs incase you ever fell ill. The demon made sure your attention was always occupied to keep from noticing your changing body.

To say it worked was an understatement.

By the fifth month, you realized despite your growing stomach, you weren't gaining weight anywhere else. Most of your clothes fit like a glove except around your abdomen.

Your heart began to race as you wracked your mind of the events for the past few months.

When was the last time you had gotten your period?

You don't recall changing your sheets every month because you stained it, nor do you recall dealing with the hassle of keeping yourself clean. Come to think of it, you felt at ease these past few months, the usual cramps and cravings you felt no longer bothering you like before.

Ridding yourself of your clothes, slipping your kimono off until you're left in your undergarments of hadajyuban and susuyoke. You undid your sash and revealed your stomach. You're met with the sight of your bulging tummy and tender breasts. Pressing a finger pad to the skin of your stomach, it seemed firm instead of soft and plush. With a shaky breath, you pressed your palms against your stomach and...

Kick. Kick.

You removed your hands immediately, face falling. No...

No. No! No! No!

How didn't you notice it before!?

Your chest fell and rose quickly with every breath you took, hyperventilating as the situation dawned on you. You were pregnant. Actually pregnant with that damn demon's child. A bellowing scream ripped from your throat, the high-pitch intensity resonating like shattering glass throughout the temple.

Doma raced to your bedroom, fearing the worse as he heard his wife scream. He ran into the bedroom, only to be met with your form bawling on the floor, hunched over as sobs wracked your body. Followers tried to console you, yet you ignored them.

Doma approached you carefully and crouched down, but the moment he put a hand on your back, you whipped your head and cracked your hand across his face like a whip. He fell back, catching himself, shock etched into his features. You... You hit him? He paid no mind to the followers who raced to his side, asking him if he was okay. He was more surprised you dared slap him.

The stinging of his cheek didn't hurt , but it caught him off guard. He looked up and leered at you with wide eyes. Yet he clashed with the burning, sorrowful gaze you held.

"Fuck you! Goddamnit, leave me alone, you monster! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!" You screech, standing up and burying your face in your hands. Tears slipped through your fingers and dripped to the floor.

Doma smiled, finally understanding why you were reacting the way you were. He began chuckling, then giggling, and then he broke into a fit of laughter. He stood up and held a hand to his face, looking at you with a crazed, delighted expression on his face. Gleefully, he spoke, "Oh, petal! You finally caught on!"

You shake your head and begin crying louder, turning your back to the demon. "No, no, no...," you whimper.

"We're going to be parents...," Doma croons, taking small, quiet steps towards you. Like before, he tries pulling you close but you brush him off.

"Please... Please, just leave me alone...!"

"Oh, [Name], you'll see. Once our baby is here, you'll love being a mommy. Just like I'll love being a papa...!"

"No... I didn't want this...."

"But I did! I told you for so long...," Doma whispers, uncomfortably close to you. He lets out a breathy laugh. "And now that you're finally with child, I'm going to make sure I see my baby no matter what."

You could only stand in horror, listening to his voice. The panic crawled up your throat, fear taking hold of you as you froze up. With bated breath, you wait for him to leave. But his next words made your heart drop and blood run cold.

"I'm willing to do anything for our child, [Name]. Even if it means I may have to hurt you to guarantee their safe arrival."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma is not submissive and breedable. He is dominant and fertile.

He finally has his wish of having a family with the woman he loves.

And he'll do anything to make it come true.

Even if it means he has to become the monster and hurt you to get it.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜,

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

female Byleth S-supports ranked best to worst

(keeping my personal feelings about the pairings themselves to a minimum)

(Gilbert and Alois omitted, since those are platonic S-supports)

(warning: long post)

1. Seteth 

This S-support is about as romantic as it can get. This thing just makes my heart flutter every. dang. time. and it’s easily the best S-support in the whole game for female Byleth. There’s a REASON why a lot of people hop aboard the Setleth train after witnessing this masterpiece.

Sure, Seteth lectures his way in and out of the proposal, but let’s be real, if it was any different it would be out of character, and acting the responsible advisor is just part of his charm. Plus, he pledges utter devotion to Byleth for the rest of his existence, and we essentially get wedding vows out of this one. It doesn’t get better than that!

He’s so self-assured during this S-support, and that’s sexy. But he is patient and affectionate with her, and takes the time to make sure there’s no room for confusion. He clarifies that his feelings are not those of duty (which is a problem with some other S-supports), or an interest in perpetuating a Nabatean or Crest-rich bloodline. It’s very clear that he just wants her, and that’s it. But where others put Byleth on a pedestal, this S-support feels like an exchange between equals.

Byleth’s reaction to this one is particularly noteworthy — there’s an unusual amount of emotional expression from Byleth during this S-support, INCLUDING A FRIGGIN BLUSH! Byleth does NOT blush often during these supports. Plus, Byleth asks Seteth to promise that he’ll follow wherever she goes. Unlike some of the other S-supports, it’s very clear that she’s invested in him and wants him.

Favorite quotes:

“I cannot conceive of a world without you in it.”

“I love you, deeply. Will you marry me?”

“From this day forward, I will always be at your side. Through good or ill fortune. Through the greatest of joys and the worst of woes. No matter how daunting the task, I will be there.”

“Courage, my love. Let us go forth and face the world - together.”

2. Hubert 

I was genuinely caught off-guard with Hubert, especially since I haven’t played Crimson Flower yet and have gotten all of my impressions of Hubert from the fandom. A pleasant surprise, though, and pleasant enough to snag the #2 best S-support!

He starts with advisor nagging, which is no surprise since that’s his character. However, he doesn’t take too long to get to the point of the conversation, and everything is straightforward yet sweet. It’s very cute how he flustered he gets in the beginning, and his self-consciousness about his suitability as a husband is really sweet. But what really clinched this for me was the privilege of seeing a BLUSHY HUBERT! This surprisingly lovable psychopath gets so dang worked up and excited over Byleth giving him a ring and proposing to him right back.

Favorite quotes:

“[I’d] rather you be with me rather than some dubious individual.” (Yes, I altered the quote, but let’s be real, he wasn’t talking about Edelgard there.)

“I once thought killing you would be a great challenge, but the real difficulty was declaring my love.”

3. Ignatz 

This S-support starts with an angry Ignatz, which had me worried. Ignatz is one of those characters where I expected his apparent youthfulness to cause a problem in his S-support (it definitely causes problems in other S-supports), even though he’s actually 17 at the start of game like Felix, Dimitri, Claude, Raphael, Ferdinand, and Edelgard. So I was pleasantly surprised by the sheer maturity of his proposal!

While he’s definitely self-conscious and doesn’t even expect Byleth to accept his proposal, it says a lot that Ignatz still had the guts to do the proposing. While he expresses surpassing admiration toward Byleth as someone who supported him through troubled times, he’s not dependent or subservient. Yes, there is a prominent fixation on Byleth’s beauty, but he’s an artist, so I think that adds more meaning to what would otherwise be an extremely shallow point to make during an S-support.

Favorite quotes:

“You are my goddess.”

 “You soothed my troubled soul.”

“My beloved goddess.”

“I want to love you for all eternity.”

“I love you with all my soul.”

Hoo boy, this boy’s got a serious SILVER TONGUE on him! *fans self*

4. Lorenz 

Regardless of how you feel about Lorenz, you’ve gotta admit this is a pretty flawless proposal. He reminisces about and apologizes for the trouble he used to cause as a youth, has a smooth transition into the presentation of the ring, and then his composure falls apart when Byleth reveals she’s been wise to him all along. He’s such a perfectionist, and his determination to propose perfectly is very consistent with his character. But I also appreciate that he made sure of Byleth’s feelings before actually asking her to marry him (ring presentation aside).

This S-support makes it very clear just how much Lorenz admires Byleth, which I feel is extremely important in context of his character. He can be incredibly self-centered to the point of being downright irritating, so the fact that he’s now talking about her and is focused entirely on her shows the sincerity of his feelings and how much Lorenz has grown as a person.

The bit at the end where he gets overexcited and uses his full name is hilarious, but I’m glad the S-support doesn’t end there, which would have taken away from it. Instead, it ends with Lorenz swearing to make Byleth happy and work with her in making the world a better place. Equal partners!

The last thing that really made this S-support for me was the voice acting. The broken voice, trembling, and stammering really added emotional depth to Lorenz’s character in this critical moment, and really brought everything to the next level in terms of overall impact.

Favorite quote: “Pedigree and status are no longer priorities for me. I now know that what matters most is the worth of an individual’s soul.”

5. Felix

The moment I noticed that this S-support was taking place at the training grounds, I knew it was going to be good. And it goes exactly as you would expect with our favorite tsundere, flustered and deflecting and all, but the sheer effort that he ends up putting into it is so endearing. And I adore how Byleth messes with him the whole time.

It starts rough, let’s be real. He just hands the ring to Byleth and tells her to “take this.” Oh, Felix. This poor boy is so. friggin. hopeless. You can practically hear his thought process leading up to this point. “How do I make sure Byleth never leaves?... Ah, marriage — yes, that’ll lock her in!” *facepalm*

But Felix’s body language is what really makes this S-support, starting with the finger point and then ending with the kabedon. Plus, we get a glimpse of something very rare: blushy Felix!

Favorite quotes:

“Fight me for the rest of my life.”

“I want you to be my wife. Please say yes. Let’s get married and stay together until we die. I love you.”

6. Balthus

I really didn’t know what to expect with this one, although to be honest, what expectations I did have were fairly low. Yet despite his faults, Balthus managed to scrape together a rather charming S-support! His nervousness and stuttering is adorable for such a big, tough-talking guy, and I love that we actually get an impatient “Just say it already,” from Byleth.

It was nice to see Byleth’s good influence on Balthus, although I’m not a fan of the woman-redeems-man trope. And considering that Balthus asks for up to 5 years to get his act together…that wasn’t exactly a point in his favor.

What made this S-support for me was all of the classic lines. Balthus isn’t necessarily a smooth talker, but it would be wrong to say that he doesn’t know how to talk to a woman. The proposal itself had me ROLLING: “Marry me, pal!” The voice acting was flawless, particularly when he said, “my love.” Balthus, I’ll say this on Byleth’s behalf: please stop trying so hard. And never say that again.

Favorite quotes:

“It’s time to take the biggest gamble of my life.”

“Comfort be damned! I need you by my side. Always.”

“Let’s get hitched right away! I know a guy.”

“To look after you...and be brave enough to let you look after me. that’s what marriage is all about, right?”

S-support portraits shouldn’t really matter here, but I’m going out on a limb here and saying that Balthus’ portrait is the best one of all Byleth’s S-supports.

7. Dorothea

I have a lot of Dorothea feels, okay? She’s my baby girl. And by this point in the game, she’s so jaded and used to disappointment that it just breaks my heart. So when Byleth proposes to her, you can hear the genuine emotion in her voice. She’s so in love with Byleth, but clearly talked herself out of it long before this moment. “You won the war. You could pick anyone in the world. Why would you…?”

And then she’s so happy. It’s not fancy, but her pure happiness really makes this for me. The hopeless romantic finally getting her happy ending is just really lovely.

Favorite quote: “I starred in so many operas where I captured the heart of my beloved. But I never dreamed that it would feel this wonderful when it actually happened.”

8. Ferdinand

Oh boy, Ferdie. There wasn’t much of a preamble, and the presentation of the ring wasn’t anything special. He’s still full of himself: “You hear noble Ferdinand von Aegir declare his love for you, and all you say is, ‘I understand’?” and this S-support is more focused on him than it is on Byleth, which is exactly the opposite of what happened with Lorenz’s S-support, even though they’re similar characters.

That being said, this S-support has its moments. We get a good reaction out of him (even though it’s over the top), and we get a sign of his personal growth when he reins himself in. The trembling and feeling faint is very cute (10/10), and considering his ambitious nature, him saying that he considers winning Byleth’s heart to be one of his greatest accomplishments is sweet, as is the way he dreams about their future.

In other words, this one starts rough, but ends sweet.

Favorite quote: “I need you as much as I need my next breath — more, even.”

9. Dedue

Can we just appreciate that Dedue chose to leave Dimitri for Byleth? That is so meaningful. Dedue spends the entire game unhealthily attached to Dimitri, and finally he finds something that he chooses for himself. Of course, there is the concern that he will become unhealthily attached to Byleth, but I don’t get that impression from his S-support.

There are so many wonderful little details in this S-support. The tiny, modest ring. The straightforward proposal. Both of them gazing at each other in loving, comfortable silence afterward. Byleth’s blush. And DEDUE’S LAUGH. Just. the laugh. It’s important.

Finally, Dedue invites Byleth to come with him to visit Duscur. TAKE NOTES, CLAUDE!! Anyway…

10. Edelgard

*takes a deep breath and sets aside my feelings about Edelgard’s stance on the Children of the Goddess*

Alright, so this S-support is significant because it’s one of the few where you can tell that there is genuine affection on Byleth’s end. She really takes charge of the proposal, going so far as to use Edelgard’s nickname, “El,” to convey affection and intimacy.

At first I was concerned when I heard Edelgard say, “This ring…thank you, my dearest friend,” and I was like HOLD UP – did Byleth just get friendzoned?? But Edelgard clarifies by expressing that she has romantic feelings too, which saves the scene. But while sweet, the rest of the S-support focuses on Edelgard’s ambitions and generally lacks romance. Fitting for her character? Yes. A satisfying S-support? Not really.

11. Dimitri 

It’s clear from the beginning of this S-support that Dimitri and Byleth have become close friends. I appreciate the way they talk about their wounds, and although talking about Dimitri’s nightmares is far darker than I expected from an S-support, it shows just how much Dimitri has improved.

What disappointed me about this S-support is the lack of emotion on both sides. Sure, the “my beloved” pet name is wonderful. And sure, Byleth isn’t very emotional as a rule. But Byleth shows more emotional in other S-supports. And there is not nearly enough of a reaction on Dimitri’s side. Come on, dude. You’ve been aggressively simping over Byleth since Day 1, and you’re just taking this proposal in stride?? You should be unconscious right now.

12. Mercedes

I’m so proud of how far Mercedes has come at this point. She’s determined to live in a way that makes her happy, outside of her Crest or anyone else’s expectations. That being said, a lot of this S-support feels more like it could have been an A+ support.

Major points to Mercedes to being the one to do the proposing. A lot of people mistake her kind nature for being demure, which is not the case. She is bold, speaks her mind, and knows what she wants. And in this case, that’s Byleth. Her proposal is gentle and respectful, if a bit bland, and her reaction to Byleth’s acceptance is absolutely adorable. She’s so happy yet insecure, and I wish there was more communication from Byleth to reassure her.

13. Hanneman

Hanneman is an academic through and through, and his nature as a scholar comes through strongly in his S-support. He tries to approach things pragmatically, almost ruins things by talking about Byleth’s role in his research, but fortunately realizes that’s the wrong way to do it and takes a new approach with more feeling. It’s very similar to Linhardt’s S-support, but less self-centered and overall better. Hanneman treats Byleth as an equal, and shows enthusiasm in his own way.

Overall, this is an extremely pragmatic S-support, but it’s not without its charms. That being said, it definitely requires an interpretation of Byleth’s character where she has developed a taste for academia.

Favorite quotes:

“I suppose there’s no reason to hold ourselves back any longer.”

“I don’t want the power of your Crest - I want you.”

“I can’t wait to see the results of this undertaking.”

14. Yuri

This S-support is very consistent with Yuri’s character. The scene opens with Yuri trying to repay his “debt” to Byleth, which definitely lacks in romantic vibes, but works in context. It’s nice to see Yuri nervous and out of composure, but I admit I had been expecting…more…from him with how charming he’s supposed to be. Then again, like Sylvain, maybe the fact that he’s dropped the façade is supposed to make it meaningful. At least he blushes! Blushy Yuri is something I didn’t know I needed. The bit at the end where he whispers his true name in her ear is very nice, too.

But yikes…Yuri talks about his death. And considering that in most of the routes, Byleth ends up being most likely essentially immortal, this hits HARD. She is definitely facing the death of her lover in a few decades at most, and that is not something she wants to think about during a proposal.

Favorite quote: “In return for this ring, I ask for you.”

15. Raphael 

Raphael is a pretty clueless, non-romantic kind of guy. But the sudden proposal is very cute. Considering how awful he is at expressing himself, it works really well with his character to simply have him jump right in and get it over with.

That being said, I couldn’t help but feel that his reasoning for getting married was just a little loose. He always wants to be with Byleth and expresses that he wants to serve as her knight. Uh, you realize you can do that without marrying her right, bud? Byleth didn’t seem to be very into this proposal either, although she does have a wonderful little smile in the S-support portrait, which makes up for that. I love how the portrait emphasizes Raph’s size and strength by having him lift her up bridal style. It’s an actually flattering portrayal of him, too.

Favorite quote: “And…I’ll love you. Forever and ever. And ever!”

16. Sylvain 

Ah yes, Sylvain. Our favorite train wreck. The good news is that he’s finally taking charge of his life, and I like that he’s straightforward in this S-support rather than flirtatious, which means that you know he’s being sincere. It’s cute to see him genuinely happy, and his statement that “I’m going to spend the rest of our lives together trying to make you happy,” is very good.

However, the “If you told me you never wanted me to look at another woman, I’d go blind for you” is going too far. I know it addresses his skirt-chasing character, but I just don’t know if they could have a healthy relationship. I know this is rating the support scene, not the ship itself, but I don’t think that’s a positive indicator for the future.

17. Claude 

This S-support gives me so many bad vibes. Yes, he expresses his love for Byleth as well as his utmost confidence in her, but dude, actions matter more than words, and your actions speak VOLUMES. He’s the only one to just run off at the end of the S-support, and while I understand his reasoning — I really do — it’s clear that his own agenda and ambitions will always come before Byleth.

This is what I heard: “Right now, Fodlan is like a newborn... so that’s why I’m leaving, so you have to do all the hard stuff yourself. See ya, sucker!!” Ah yes. Prime husband and father material there. Obviously.

“I’m sorry that I won’t be by your side at such an important event...” Uh huh, yeah right. You’re obviously itching to get out of there.

I’m sorry, Claude stans, but giving Byleth an engagement ring and then running away for who knows how long is LAME.

18. Jeritza

The first thing that struck me about this S-support is the fact that it takes place in the Agarthan HQ, Shambhala. This is super meaningful because it means that Byleth and Jeritza go there together to use their killing prowess to take out Those Who Slither in the Dark post-Crimson Flower. It’s a nice way to tie up the route. The portrait is super dynamic and unique, too. That being said…

He’s still fixated on killing Byleth. If that’s your thing, then hey, I can’t judge. At least we all know that if he hasn’t killed her by now, it’s never going to happen. It’s such an empty threat it’s probably an inside joke by now. But Jeritza’s clearly still figuring out his feelings, which means I’m not sure it really counts as an S-support (it would have made a better A+ support imho). There are also things about this pairing and S-support that have some serious implications for who Byleth has become by this point and what the future is likely to look like. Good storytelling, yes, but as an S-support…not my favorite.

Favorite quotes:

“It is you alone who can slay the demon inside me.”

“To the very depths of hell, I will tumble down with you.”

19. Linhardt

This S-support falls flat for me. It’s like Hanneman’s, but worse because it’s super self-centered. I feel like it’s a really bad summary of Linhardt’s character because so much more could have been done with it. Linhardt has lots of good traits, and this S-support ignores all of them. Instead, we have a one-dimensional S-support that focuses on Linhardt’s laziness and penchant for napping. He’s so self-centered and consumed by his own interests, so saying that he wants to study Byleth for the rest of his life makes her more like an accessory to his life plans rather than a central component. At least when Hanneman says he wants to study Byleth, he makes it very clear that he loves her and wants her as a person.

And the line where he says "I didn’t honestly think you’d reject me” is just…wow. Much disappoint. If I were Byleth I would turn him down on the spot just for saying that.

20. Ashe 

Ashe’s S-support comes off to me like he’s pledging himself to her as a vassal more than actually proposing. Yes, he does take initiative and does the proposing, which is consistent with the fact that Ashe is a gutsy little guy. But he’s so stuck on being helpful that the S-support ends up feeling immature. Plus, Byleth doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about the proposal compared to other S-supports, and overall Ashe’s worship of Byleth comes off as more dependent than romantic.

21. Caspar

We’ve reached the bottom four S-supports, starting with this disaster. Caspar is juvenile, reckless, and oblivious. (Don’t get me wrong — I adore his character and see him like a little brother.) Byleth has to take charge of the proposal, which is not a problem in itself, but then Caspar confesses that he hasn’t even thought about marrying Byleth — or anyone at all! asaslkjasdflk FAIL

At least the victory shout is kind of cute…if painfully cheesy.

And they get worse from here…

22. Rhea

I don’t have a lot to say here. I know I said that I would keep my personal feelings about the pairings themselves out of this, but I feel like there are certain things about this particular pairing that need to be addressed along with this S support.

Age gap aside (because frankly with immortals, age doesn’t really matter anymore), Rhea CREATED Byleth’s mother, essentially making herself Byleth’s grandmother. Incest vibes, yo. Plus, she fully intended to sacrifice Byleth’s life in order to bring back Sothis — which, granted, is a sentiment that wears off, and Jeritza is just as bad in terms of original intent to kill Byleth. This makes any kind of romantic revelation on Rhea’s side just…weird.

There are some good quotes in this S-support, and we get a ton of reveals about Rhea’s character development in a short amount of time. She’s self-conscious of her other form as a dragon, she acknowledges the wrongs she did in the past, and she expresses a desire to repent. She acknowledges the pivotal role that Byleth has played through her choices and accomplishments, rather than attributing them to fate and the “flow of time.” But honestly this would be more appropriate as a final scene at the end of the game, not a romantic S-support.

23. Cyril

Oh boy. Where do I start with this one? It’s so bad...

This boy is BABY. 19 years old after the war? Sure. Attractive design? Yes. But still, he. is. BABY. And the S-support portrait makes it so much worse by making him look freaking TEN.

And he’s so, so oblivious. Even worse than Caspar. He barely has a personality as a character outside of being committed to the servant mentality, and he has had no opportunity to discover himself as a freaking person outside of his obsession with Rhea. It should be illegal to even consider this kid for S-support. One thing would be if it was platonic, like Alois or Gilbert, but Byleth gives him the ring, and that means it’s supposed to be romantic.

Plus, Cyril says that he loves Byleth, but it’s super casual and comes off more like familial or friendship love rather than romantic love. Unless I missed something, I don’t think Byleth ever says that she loves Cyril in their S-support. And the end is just the worst: “Love ya, see ya in the morning.” That’s IT???? There is absolutely no indication of a mature relationship, and that’s just scary and gross.

I just…really hate this S-support. There’s only one S-support that’s worse…

24. Sothis

Forget everything that I said about keeping my feelings about particular pairings out of this ranking. This is a TRULY CURSED S-SUPPORT.

I don’t care that Sothis is technically a goddess whose age is beyond counting or mortal comprehension. All that matters is she looks like a child. She is lolibait. And to top it all off, she doesn’t even have physical form (thank goodness) — she’s just an apparition in Byleth’s head!

And this quote? “I love you deeply! Overwhelmingly! passionately! Ours is a love without an end!” I only have two words: PEAK CRINGE.

It would be one thing if Sothis came back in her adult form. Or better yet, if she had always been in her adult form as portrayed in the fresco in the reception hall. You can do something with that. But that’s not the case, Sothis is portrayed as a pre-pubescent child in both appearance and personality, and that’s just pedophilia vibes, y’all. I can’t believe this is a sincere S-support option.

What It Takes (Meizou x Reader) (Ximen x Reader)

Fandom: Meteor Garden / Boys Over Flowers Warnings: Unrequited love, Love Triangle, Happy Ending, Sad Ending Words: 2k217 Requested By: No One Synopsis: Meizou can’t help but wonder what it will take for his fiancé to love him instead.

Note to Self- Don’t fall In Love First

Mei Zou had been ecstatic when he first heard of the arranged business merger between his family and the Y/L/N group. Since the moment his mother brought the idea to him, he was shaking with excitement. He had always been worries of his parents plan for his future- maybe that’s why he tried to have as much fun as possible in his youth.

Mei Zou told no one about the engagement plans, but, of course, Y/n noticed. She called him out the first time she saw him since he was told the news. It never stopped shocking him; she was the most observant person Mei Zou had ever met. 

The group of five were lounging in the bridge room, and the second Y/n looked up from her music composition book she asked Meizou what made him so excited. He was quick to re-gain his composure and call it a secret- saying she’ll find out soon enough. 

The other three people in the club room looked over at the both of them. Ah Si rolled his eyes, making some remark of how freaky it was- that she knew them so well. 

Ximen walked over to her and put his hand gingerly on Y/n’s head, “I think it’s cute how her gaming strategy bleeds into her personality.” He moved his hand to her jaw so they were looking at each other, sharing a smile. 

Lei nodded, “It’s nice to have someone you can have a silent conversation with.”

Meizou kept his eyes on the pair in front of him, his hands balling at his sides, morphing into pale chords of muscles as he clenched the chair’s fabric. Y/n had looked back at her book, making progress on the song she was composing. 

He watched as her hair fell from behind her ears, obscuring his view of the girl. He noticed the signs of her becoming increasing frustrated. Just as he was about to move over, Y/n had called out to Lei. 

“I’m trying to convert my song from guitar to piano, but I’m not sure how to compensate for the fret change during the bridge. What chord do you think will work here?” She made eye-contact with the soft boy.

Before looking at where she was referring to, Hua Ze Lei gently brushed the hair from her face before answering her question. 

If only we were together already, Mei Zou thought, then I could stop them from looking at her like that. It was hard on the boy to see Y/n interact with other guys on a daily basis. He’s loved her since they were children, but he had no clue what the future held. So, for now, he bit his tongue. It would be so much easier if she loved me already. 

------------------------------

Note To Self- Don’t wait too long

He was many things- an artist, a bridge player, a loyal friend, a play boy, a hopeless romantic, the list goes on- but Mei Zou is not an idiot. 

He recognized the signs- falling in love was most visible from the outside. It started small, he would walk beside her in the halls. Then he would be the first to her classes, then he started to drive her home, until he’d take her out before reaching her house. It had started small, the love between an angel and a broken man. 

Meizou wasn’t an idiot. He knew Ximen was cautious with love, to the point of thinking he might never get married. It was a shock when he realized his friend was actually in love.

When Meizou first noticed his friend’s lingering glances and moment longer hands on her waist, he cornered him in the hallway. He had pushed Ximen against the lockers, grabbing his collar. Meizou scolded him, warned him that Y/n wasn’t like the girls he toys with, she’s more than them. He warned him about messing with their Y/n, the only female member of F5; Meizou gently reminded him that it wasn’t just himself Ximen would have to worry about, Ah Si and Lei cherished their princess, and they’d do anything to protect her.

Ximen shoved his friend off of him, aggressively declaring his love for her. “I love her, Meizou,” he whispered after. “I can’t stop- it’s like she’s the only thing in my life- every girl I see is just a person who isn’t her, every breath I take is one I wish was with her; she’s in every thought I have and my hand feels empty without hers’ in it. I don’t know how but I love her. I love her.”

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Meizou guided Ximen back to their club room to keep away from peering eyes. They sat and drank the scotch the room was stocked with. Even as Ah Si came and went, Ximen hadn’t said a word since the hallway. Nothing fell from his lips since he whispered his love for their bestfriend. Meizou had never seen Ximen so vulnerable before, so delicate; if he told his friend about the engagement plans Meizou feared he would shatter like a porcelain heart, so he waited.

--------------------------------

Note To Self- Decide Your Priorities Early On

Having the plans be a secret wasn’t difficult. Meizou wasn’t told anything since the reveal, so it’s not like he was keeping anything other than that from hs friends. No, having it be a secret wasn’t what was difficult- but keeping it a secret was the most painful experience ever. 

Meizou watched their love story from the side lines- seeing the stages of their relationship was like watching acts of a play in a theater he couldn’t leave. He was the understudy of a lead who never got sick. Still, Meizou waited. He waited for Ximen to mess up, to freak out. It was messed up- something he never thought he would stoop low enough to do- yet every time Y/n gushed about her plans Meizou silently prayed his friend wouldn’t show up.

He prayed Ximen would forget, he prayed Ximen would make a mistake- just once. He wished he would say the wrong thing- offend her by accident; he prayed on every lucky star that Ximen would hurt her- just once.

Yet with every ill-intended wish it was like their love grew stronger. Ximen had given up his go-to dating plans the moment Y/n agreed to go out with him. Long gone were the roses and strawberry scented cards, no more was the heart on the side of the building. Y/n wasn’t like that. 

Instead they would go to a second hand book store and find a book that had been lived in- one with dog-eared pages and cracked spines. With their books in hand they would to go a cafe, they’d order two drinks (A hot tea of differing flavors and a Spiced Chai Latte) and a piece of cake. Occasionally looking up to smile at their partners, they lived through the books. Smudged highlights of their favorite quotes, smushed rants in the margins when the plot got heated, tears softening the pages which hurt their hearts; the two poured their souls into the pages, and then they gave part of themselves to the other. 

They’d go their separate ways and read the books their partners had chosen for them, laughing when they read a funny note the other had left, calling in tears when everything goes wrong, they annotated the novels. The books would be swapped back and forth, each time read from a new perspective until each page was filled with reminders of love, silly rants, or just mementos of their time together. The book became more ink and highlighter than paper, and it’s meaning had transformed. This was what they were as a couple, something that never seemed to be breakable. Something endless.

Ah Si was spectacle at first, hesitant to expose Y/n to his playboy turned romantic friend. He had always thought Y/n would end up with Lei- but he gave Ximen a chance, and he waited. He waited for Y/n to show up at his door step in tears, he waited to kill Ximen for making her cry. He waited and he waited and the day never came. 

Instead, Y/n cried over how sweet he was. Instead she told him how well he treated her, how Ximen made her feel so special. She called Ah Si late at night not heartbroken, but reduced to giggles and squeals after a perfect date. Never came the day Ah Si would comfort a heartbroken Y/n, and he had never been happier for her. 

Lei was the first to know of Y/n’s long-lasting crush on his friend. He was surprised- back when she told him at the age of twelve. But since then he expected the calls of how he was perfect, how he’d never see her as a girl. He knew Y/n’s feelings inside out, and he was worried when she told him that Ximen had taken her out on a date. He waited for Ximen to get bored, for Y/n’s perfection to not be enough for him. Lei watched silently as the pair spent every second together, watched with careful eyes as they fell hard. 

After his worries for her well being subsided, Lei waited for Y/n to fade from his life. As it was, Y/n called him every day and texted him throughout it. He waited for the calls to stop, for her texts to become once a day with simple meanings. He waited patiently to be along on the rooftop with only the memories of his bestfriend to keep him company. He waited and waited and waited, staring at the phone or the rooftop entrance. Days, weeks, a month, two, yet the phone always rang, and the door always opened. Lei realized Y/n wouldn’t be abandoning his relationship with her for someone else. Maybe it was because he chose love and abandoned his friends when he did- maybe that's why he tried to prepare himself for Y/n’s departure from his life- waiting for her to disappear. But the day never came, and Lei stopped waiting.

Ximen was terrified every day. He was anxious as he drove to her house, wondering when he would freak out. He was scared when he looked down and saw Y/n holding onto his arm, wondering when he would push her off. He clenched his hand tight as he watched her dance through the streets of Shanghi, wondering when he would ruin his one shot at happiness. 

Every date his heart was beating out of his chest, every stolen glance felt like the last. Every smile thrown his way was a wakeup call- every time her voice reached his ears it cut through the fog of self doubt and misery which swallowed him whole- she was his savior. His angel that managed to save him every time, the only life raft on the sinking boat; she was the only good thing left in the world that fought to bruise his ego and tie him to a hundred pound weight of misery. She was the softest blanket, she was the best alarm. She was everything. His hand unclenched. He calmed down.

Meizou should have known this would happen. He decided then, seeing her beautiful smile, that her happiness is all that mattered. 

---------------------------------------------------------

Note To Self- Sometimes Things Don’t Work Out, Sometimes That’s Okay

When Meizhou told his parents he wouldn’t go through with the wedding they were furious. When he broke down in tears they had no clue what to do with themselves. 

“She’s in love with someone else,”

They comforted him as best as absentee parents could, patting his head awkwardly with empty words. They offered to go through with it anyway, have her fall in love with him after they’re married.

Meizhou refused- he didn’t want to. 

Instead, Meizhou stood at the altar, watching as Y/n approached. She was beautiful. Her dress dragged behind her and her eyes watered with tears- she was gorgeous. 

Lei and Daoming Si stood across the isle, beside Y/n as she took her rightful spot. She stared into the eyes of her beloved and, for once, it wasn’t jealousy that prickled under his skin. It was sorrow- deep and painful morning for the death of his future. His beloved would never be his, his beloved was someone else. He cried.

Y/n had never felt better. Her mother had been apprehensive about giving her consent, saying she hadn’t expected Ximen to be the one she fell in love with. Y/n wasn’t sure what she meant, but her mom dressed her to the nines and did her makeup personally. 

And now here she was, standing in front of the man she’d gladly spend every moment of her life with.

“How did I get so lucky,” she whispered, as Lei handed her Ximens ring and Meizhou handed him the other.

“No love-” Ximens eyes swirled with love and adoration, “how did I get so lucky?”

The room erupted into cheers, applause, the occasional scream or encouragement as they kissed. The world faded around them and the only thing that mattered was each other.

Meizhou waved them off as they climbed into the limo towards their honeymoon. 

My dearest darling Wolfie, I saw your idea for game gerlion friends to lovers in @thewitcherbog horny chat and I am here to ask you to write the fic. Pls 💜😘

Tada!! I can't remember if this was exactly what I had planned... but it's what we're getting. Lovingly beta'd by @comfyswitcherblanketfort.

CW: probably rated M? Briefly mentioned masturbation more horny than smutty.

____

A retirement at Corvo Bianco had never been what Geralt expected of his life. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told a young Dandelion that witcher’s never retire, but in recent years between looting caves and haggling for contracts, he’d managed to save quite a bit of coin. He was, objectively, rich. He had the best armour on the Continent, the most deadly swords and crossbow bolts, and thanks to B.B., his house was beautifully decorated, with the exception of the rather garish portrait of his most loyal friend. Yet, he was still gaining more money than he knew what to do with. He’d started investing in merchants and refusing payment but the vineyard brought in a steady income and Geralt had to admit that his life was pretty luxurious these days.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise when Dandelion had turned up, in fine, brightly coloured silks and the elegantly decorated elven lute from so many years ago. Geralt sometimes wondered whether Toruviel had enchanted her lute. There was barely a scratch and Geralt couldn’t even recall Dandelion ever having to change the lute strings in all the years he’d known the bard. Geralt was no expert but he was pretty sure that you were supposed to change the lute strings.

The sun was shining over the fields of Corvo Bianco, and Geralt felt at peace. Perhaps that was why he was feeling so nostalgic, pondering over the events that had led him to this moment. His life had always been so busy, but with Ciri off touring the multiverse, and Yennefer doing whatever Yennefer did these days now the Djinn wish had been broken, he was… well… bored? He had every Gwent card currently made, and no one would play him. It was just him and the bard, living the bachelor’s life in Touissant.

So was it any wonder that Geralt had started to develop feelings for his friend? Perhaps they’d always been there, clouded by the wish that tied him to Yennefer, or perhaps their newfound domesticity had awoken something in Geralt that he had never expected. Dandelion spent a lot of time in the makeshift study, working on his latest book, but they always ate together and sometimes the bard would even accompany Geralt on his contracts in the fields, for old times sake. After long nights of drinking too much wine or vodka, it wasn’t unusual for the pair of them to fall asleep together, curled up in one bed just like they used to in their youth. Those were Geralt’s favourite nights, because despite his protests of being better alone, he enjoyed the familiar warmth of another body pressed against his, and Dandelion had always been a cuddler.

And as if on cue, the bard burst through the doors onto the patio where Geralt was watching the world go by.

“Ah, Geralt, old friend, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dandelion announced with a flick of his wrist. “I was just in town.”

“Dandelion,” Geralt groaned. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Dear Henrietta will forgive me in time, my friend,” Dandelion winked, his tongue flicking out between his lips, “and until then I have plenty of friends who will offer me shelter if the guards are around.”

“You look like a man sized peacock,” Geralt scoffed. “How the hell does no one see you?”

“Ah, dear witcher, you forget that I used to be a spy,” Dandelion laughed, putting one hand on his hips. “Now, stop interrupting, Geralt, or do you not care about the gift I picked out for you in town today?”

Geralt hummed, knowing that it didn’t really matter whether he cared or not. Nothing would stop Dandelion once he was in the middle of a story. Some things just never changed. “Go on.”

Dandelion beamed, and from behind his back he produced a wooden box. The poet cocked his head as he opened the lid, revealing a set of tiny vials neatly lined up. Geralt almost choked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Oil?” he spluttered. A man such as Dandelion had to know of the more promiscuous uses of oil. Whilst Dandelion had never explicitly said as such, the way he talked of his lovers had always led Geralt to believe that he was rather flexible in his tastes, much like Geralt himself.

The poet blushed as he pulled a single vial from the box, his long lutist fingers wrapping around the glass. “Bath oils, Geralt.”

“Oh, of course,” Geralt cursed internally. Dandelion had bought all sorts of expensive oils and lotions when they had been on the path together, neither of them were shy with their bathing habits and the poet was a highly skilled masseur.

Which was not helping Geralt’s sudden rush of arousal as he remembered the feel of the poet’s hands on his skin. They’d laughed off awkward erections in the past, it was just a thing that happened… but Geralt was starting to wonder what would happen if, for once, they let it happen.

“This one will probably be a bit much for your witcher senses, my friend, but I rather like it,” Dandelion continued, oblivious to Geralt's inner turmoil. “This one,” another vial was plucked from the box, “however, I think you will like, and I managed to buy this,” Dandelion pulled a scroll from his pocket, “from a local mage. It’s supposed to move the water around the tub, like a massage!”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” Geralt sighed, rolling his eyes. As much as he adored his old friend, the man could take his sweet time getting to the point. It was even worse when the poet and Regis got together, Geralt honestly thought he might never know peace again.

“Because, Geralt, I am treating my dearest friend to an extravagant bath time experience!” Dandelion exclaimed with wide arms, almost knocking off his own hat in his enthusiasm. “Friendship and love, art and wine, Geralt. What more could you want in life?”

Love.

No, friendship. Geralt needed to focus on that. How many times had Dandelion called him his friend? Too many to count.

“Assuming you have wine, what’s the art?” Geralt smirked, enjoying the offended noises Dandelion made.

“Geralt, I’ll have you know that-”

“Relax, Dandelion. I’m teasing. So how about this bath then?”

The two men made their way upstairs, peeling off their outer clothes as they strolled past Geralt’s bedroom, and picking up a robe each. Dandelion had filled the room with candles, and there was a soft floral scent hanging in the air, roses, the oil vial that Dandelion had initially held up.

“I thought this one was too much for my ‘witcher senses’?” Geralt scoffed, peering at the magically bubbling water.

“Well, yes, but I did also say I liked this one, and I’ll admit that I got a little carried away. You don’t mind, do you Geralt?”

Geralt shook his head as he stripped off his final layer of clothing and settled into the tub. Dandelion sat in a chair, still wrapped in his robe, and picked up his lute. He plucked idly at the strings until he was seemingly happy that they were in tune, and then he began to sing. Geralt sighed as he sank deeper into the hot water, the enchantment really did feel like a sort of massage as jets of water pulsed against his skin, but he couldn’t help but wonder. The oils, the candles, the romantic ballad…

Was his friend trying to tell him something?

It was time for Geralt to test the waters as it was. He trod the water with his hand, gently splashing to the beat of Dandelion’s song. Normally, he would close his eyes and let the poet’s music fill the room, but instead he was mesmerised by the way Dandelion’s finger caressed the lute strings. Geralt could feel his cock harden as he pondered what other uses his friend’s delicate hands could have, the way they found their mark with such precision. The poet could make any instrument sing to the gods in his hands, Geralt was sure that he was no exception.

“Practicing your fingering?” he asked Dandelion with a tilt of his head.

The strings twanged unpleasantly, making Geralt grimace as the sound reverberated in his head. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Geralt smirked. “On your lute.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Dandelion muttered. “I’m just trying to figure out the next verse. I could use a hand, or an ear if you’d be willing to help.”

“I have a hand you could use, or two,” Geralt muttered not really intending for Dandelion to hear him but the poet had sharp ears and he spluttered incoherently as he set down his lute.

Geralt hummed and let his hand drop beneath the water, stroking his cock lazily. He wasn’t really chasing any real pleasure, but it was a good feeling, sending warmth across his skin. The bath, the candles, the song, they had to mean something even in Dandelion’s subconsciousness. The man was an insatiable flirt, and yet never seemed to notice when others’ affections were cast upon him, not unless it was blunt in its honesty.

So Geralt would be blunt.

He closed his eyes as he continued to stroke the length of his cock, the motion causing the water to ripple slightly, but not yet enough to draw Dandelion’s attention. The poet was too busy wittering on about his rhymes, only noticing when Geralt’s breath hitched as he cupped his balls.

“Geralt?”

“Dandelion,” Geralt grunted softly, his pleasure beginning to build from a warm ember to a roaring blaze that burned through him. The poet’s cornflower blue eyes were on him, dark and hungry. His cheeks were flushed rosy, and it seemed his dear friend was finally catching onto what was happening.

“I- I can leave, my friend, if you would prefer…”

“Stay,” Geralt insisted. “This not what you had in mind?”

“Well,” Dandelion laughed. “I had hoped, but I never thought it would actually happen, and well, really I thought it might take a little more convincing. Who knew all I needed all along were a few cheap candles?”

“Just get in the bath, Dandelion,” Geralt growled.

“Okay, okay,” Dandelion said with a roll of his eyes but shrugged out of his robe, allowing Geralt to admire his slender form. The poet’s cock remained soft as he stepped into the water. “So… how long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have I been more than just a friend to you, Geralt?” Dandelion asked, settling into the water with a soft moan. His hands resting on Geralt’s thighs, fingers drawing patterns on Geralt’s skin under the water.

It wasn’t an easy question to answer. Could he even pin it down? Geralt wasn’t sure.

“Hard to tell, our friendship has never exactly been normal, Dandelion,” Geralt admitted.

Dandelion laughed, leaning forward in the tub, his hands stroking up Geralt’s thigh, the movement forcing the air from Geralt’s lungs. “You know, you’re right, and I think we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Mhmm, and how about we start with a kiss?” Dandelion winked, before falling into Geralt embrace with a splash.

I wrote something angsty and spicy.

Rated: "E" for "Extremely Spicy" [NSFT] AO3 Link: "Vantablack" Pairing: Thane / FemShep (Unrequited?) Pairing: Garrus / Femshep (Mentioned) Summary: Alone, as only a drell mind could, moments melded together like droplets of dew on grass. The ghost of his mouth over her neck. The taste of her painted lips on a rim of crystal. Hair feathering over his fingers, the scent of her body, and the thrum of her pulse tugging at his heart with longing.

THIS IS NOT HAPPY SHRIOS. Most of my recent work has been very soft and warm feeling - this is not that. But I want ya'll to know I have some soft happy shrios in the pipeline to make it up to you <3

Inspired by @shut-up-alexa's fic Weightless, I drew upon the moment where Thane takes a sip from a glass Shepard had just been drinking from - as was her intention. The fic itself says he tastes her lip print and sets the memory aside for when he is "alone with himself in the darkest part of the night." It was then I knew I had been visited by the smut fairy. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME WRITE FANFIC OF YOUR FANFIC :D

Sleep was difficult enough to claim, most nights.

Thane, ever a man of routine, kept to his nightly rituals like an acolyte. He began with prayer. Verses carved into his mind since his youth, silent and still as he bargained with the gods to mull the chaos of his memories, to forgive his misgivings. Meditation lasted as long as it needed to. Sleep was, after all, fruitless without a quiet mind.

Aboard the Normandy, however, nightly meditation felt like a fool’s pursuit. Shepard, returned from the waves of Kalahira’s ocean, demanded much of a man like him. In her hands, the carefully constructed fortress of his mind was like a house of cards. Reborn into the hands of the enemy, she raged, unable to trust the unfamiliar construct that was her body and searching with grief and heartache for a lover she couldn’t locate. She prodded him with questions, seared him with her gaze and her relentless upset.

Raw, heart-stricken, and reckless, her anger was justified - even if she flung it at him underhandedly. He forgave her always. To be her target was to bear her trust. He could see it clearly; she knew no other way to soothe the guilt and isolation that tore openly at both her body and her mind. In time, he was confident she would heal. Until then, Cerberus was no friend to her.

And thus tonight, like most nights, she haunted him.

At 0300, he decided on a compromise. Troubled sleep was better than none at all. After a calming herbal tea and having tended to his hygiene, he settled into his cot, nude as he so preferred to sleep. If he could sleep at all.

The minutes, and the memories, began to tick by.

"The most important aspect is intent," he’d said to her, watching her eyes follow him while he circled behind her. "A breath of hesitation will get you killed, or worse." Hands alighted on her shoulders - a companionable gesture before they both endeavored to threaten her life.

Shepard didn't flinch when he began the demonstration. Thane flattened himself against her back, one arm winding wide around her shoulders. Pressed into the curves of her body, his sweet torture began. She arched her neck - calm, trusting - offering her throat into the curl of his elbow as he tucked his arm under her chin and sealed his hand on her opposite shoulder. He steeled himself against his lust, breathing in unison with her, taking advantage of his proximity to inhale her scent as he demonstrated the headlock. Carmine hair brushed across his fingers where they were clamped on the nape of her neck, his breath washing over vulnerable, prickling skin.

Thane let the silence linger, writing the lush warmth of her body into his memory, caught in the lethal intimacy of his embrace.

"Weaken the spine by twisting," he murmured, his lips nearly brushing her ear, each word sending strands of hair ruffling on his breath. Thane closed his eyes, enflamed by her closeness, praying for mercy as she tilted back into him - a wordless exchange of scorching intent, however convinced she was to not act upon it.

His voice, barely a whisper, poured forth from intangible parts of him that hadn't known a lover's touch in over a decade.

"Apply pressure in the opposite direction."

Careful, controlled, he flexed the arm around her throat and wristed the palm at her neck. Painful to her, as he knew it would be, but not enough to truly hurt her. Nevertheless, she tensed in his arms, a kinetic shiver flowing from her body into his like the sinful call of a siren. Willing herself to trust a killer's restrained tactile intimacy, a hair-trigger away from dropping her where they stood.

"And snap."

Innate human vulnerability gave voice to her wanting. A single breath escaped her lips when she failed to contain it behind clenched teeth, her carotid artery pounding beneath smooth scales. Thane answered with his own hot rush of air against the back of her neck, a contorted gasp he hadn’t realized he was holding, torn from his throat almost against his will.

He allowed himself a blinding second more before releasing her, but not before stealing a brush of delicate skin across his lips as he pulled away. A parting gift to himself - one he paid for just hours later, when she laid her poisoned trap before him.

With the skin of her neck still irritated from their training, Shepard, mildly intoxicated herself and wrapped in a dark silk robe, presented him with a glass of her own venom. Tequila - amber and potent, an indulgence she knew full well he’d deny -- unless it was laced with his drug of choice. Her.

There upon the rim of the glass was the rosy imprint of her pigmented lips. A well of temptation, spiked with her essence. If this was a test, he'd failed spectacularly. Gods forgive him, he raised the glass to his lips under the pretense of drinking and lost himself to the faintest tastes of her mouth, entranced, savoring the traces of her beneath the mask she painted on every morning to reclaim what little of herself she believed was left. Shepard watched him with a carnivore's eyes, drawn over with night-black daggers as if to warn him. Like a rose garden, she was beautiful and wreathed in thorns. He knew better than to stray too close, but he would gladly take what meager offerings she presented - venomous or not.

This was his penance for opportunity’s kiss, stolen behind her back. A petty theft, to be sure. But even petty sins were still sins.

True to her reputation, Shepard was a fast learner. She played his game, abided by his rules, allowed him to touch her under the guise of training. She wasn’t blind to her effect on him - no. She would use him to find her turian lover. And he would let her. Selfishly, begrudgingly - willingly. What she desired would be hers for however long she allowed him to remain in her orbit.

The temptation of her lingered in his mouth and still, it wasn’t enough. It would never be until he could taste it directly from her lips, sealing his arms around her, a serpent beckoning her to taste of her own forbidden desires.

“What does it taste like?” She’d asked, as he sampled her forbidden offering.

The moment played over in his mind as he savored what little he had of her. Wax and pigment woven through with the fire of her essence. The rubicund flavors of her mouth, lit from within by the burn of tequila. The leash of his desire held firm in her little human hands, ever reminding him that she was not his to hold.

Alone, as only a drell mind could, moments melded together like droplets of dew on grass. The ghost of his mouth over her neck. The taste of her painted lips on a rim of crystal. Hair feathering over his fingers, the scent of her body, and the thrum of her pulse tugging at his heart with longing. Filched moments clutched around and within him, lust coiled like a snake in his gut, rearing its head between his legs. A call of arousal demanding to be answered - painfully, without another to share in his release.

He shifted on his cot, loosely draped in the delicate, tight-woven sheets that slipped over his scales as he rolled onto his back, throwing an arm behind his head in frustration. All the meditation and control in the galaxy would not be enough tonight. Like that sinful sip of tequila, his blood was on fire in a way he could not ignore.

Cool air met his scales as he pulled the sheets back, uncaring when his calves tangled within them. Alone and aroused, he would do as his body willed.

Memories welding together behind closed eyes, conjuring visions to answer his need. A slick tongue traced over his - a kiss. A common intimacy that he burned so brightly for, and had been denied to him for what felt like a lifetime. She might hesitate at the first touch, a breath of uncertainty when she met the split of his tongue, unknowing how much he ached to spoil her with that small perk of interspecies diversity. He drank of her mouth, absorbing her heat as he glided one palm over his length in teasing strokes.

As she so often was on the battlefield, the woman he imagined was demanding. Soft, unblemished hands pushed him back, fisting in his clothes as she, lost in her burdened reality, both pushed and pulled them together. Would she think of her lover? Of endless nights entangled in the long limbs of the famously obstinate Vakarian? In truth, Thane did not care. In his selfishness, it mattered not whose hands she thought of when he finally drew back the long elegant robe she so loved to taunt him with. Watching the fabric slip past her shoulders to reveal skin so bright it was nearly blinding in the dim light of his quarters. She was untarnished, even by the freckles that once dusted the high points of her features. The way she hated her body was something he understood all too well. A product of another's vision, a construct and tool to be used by others, with little regard for her dispositions. A weapon financed and fabricated by Cerberus. She obsessed over her body not out of vanity, but in rage. Such had begun their training.

He wanted fiercely to call upon any memory of her hands on him, but he had precious few. As yet, she hadn't managed to land a single blow on him in all of their sparrings. But little by little, she was getting stronger. Almost imperceptibly so. His grip tightened around his length at the thought - hovering over the phantom taste of her on his tongue, the beguiling wrap of her fingers around the neck of a glass bottle. She knew her strength, knew exactly what she was doing. The way she toyed with him, oh, it made his breath catch. Tempt me, touch me.

He wanted her to overpower him, to trail those supple human fingers over the hard planes of his body as she took her pleasure from him any wretched way she chose. Her soft hand coiling around his shaft, a thumb smoothing his own weeping seed over the head of his length. He gripped himself harder, scales beginning their familiar bite into his flesh.

It wasn't enough. No. He wanted more.

Alone, yet weighted down with the shame of indulgence, he paused and reached beneath his cot, searching the small compartment that contained his personal effects. From it, he produced a single leather glove, turning it over in consideration. He disliked wearing gloves, the material impeding finer sensations he preferred to feel through his bare hands when striking for another's life. But they were a tool like any other in his arsenal. Useful for eliminating evidence and now, apparently, for self-gratification.

He couldn't have her hands on him, but he could have this. Soft and worn from wear, the material slid over his palm and fingers and he reached back into the darkness for himself.

It was different. Not quite what he imagined of her hands, but different enough from the texture of his own scales. He squeezed, a quiet sigh drifting from his throat as he tested his grip, repositioning his fingers, letting the sparse fluid of his sheath accumulate in his palm. Touch me, he willed her. Take from me what you please.

In the long years after he'd failed as a husband and a father, the pull of guilt and desire was but an old companion to him. He bore his sin on strong shoulders, praying to his gods, to his wife, to Shepard, for patience and the gentle hand of forgiveness. But even he, merely a man, could succumb to the base desires of sentience. She was imperfect and wracked with loneliness just as he was.

In the maelstrom of his thoughts, her beautiful, terrible wrath and desire descended on him like a drug.

He found it to be true that Shepard did, as he had heard, “fight like a krogan in a bar fight." That tactic had carried her this far, but there was much more to learn. With each day spent in rigor and training, he showed her how to control her fury. It wouldn't be long before she would learn to recognize an opening when he gave it to her. Beneath the lust of his own touch, he could think of little else than to tempt her with feigned vulnerability, if only just to see how far she would go. To let her catch his feet with a sweep of her leg and knock him flat on his back, all for the opportunity to peel him out of his training leathers and shatter the last barriers between them.

Such a union would destroy their delicate alliance. But here in his thoughts, any perceived fragility was his alone to endure. His mind raced with the thought of her entrapping him on the sparring mat, giving himself over in sweet surrender just as he’d done with her lipstick-imprinted well of liquor. How eagerly he would be her captive, submitting his pounding heart and body to her exploitations until she arrived at the manifestation of his need, screaming for her touch, twitching beneath her hands.

He cared little for how she took him. In his heart of hearts, he wanted to worship her, to show her how even reborn into a frighteningly reconstructed body she was still everything he ever saw in her and more. He wanted to taste her lips, her flesh, to map the broad expanses of her with his hands and tongue, to see her skin darken with the distinct human blood-flush of wanting…

But she would never let him. That privilege was for her lover alone, the handsome turian with indigo clan markings the same color as Shepard's lacquered fingernails. Thane's place was beneath her, and even that very thought lit his nerves afire with wanting as he drew out his pleasure with his gloved hand, aching for her to make him dance in her palm as she did when he bested her in combat drills.

If he couldn't worship her, he would more than willingly submit to her control. How he wanted to be the one to satiate the desperate woman within her. To see the visceral spread of her thighs around him, luscious hips rolling like waves over him as she shook loose her robe, and with it, the shackles of her desolation. His eidetic memory pulled forth every gasp and cry she had unwittingly fed him as they trained together. Her sonorous human voice played over his nerves, singing into his blood with every pump of his hand, a soundtrack to the Shepard he'd constructed in his fantasy. Her wide-shut eyes, wanton in the throes of pleasure, drawing him into her depths to answer the sanguine howl in her blood. The feral woman he knew, unleashed and longing to fill the void of two missing years with just a single shred of affection as she held out for her chosen lover.

Even if she overlaid him with vivid imaginings of turian plates and talons, Thane trembled to be the vessel of her desperate need. How badly he wanted to give her this. Heart pounding, he painted her in his mind with too-smooth skin the color of sun-soaked Rakhana sands. Speckled with tiny beads of sweat that carved trails down the valley between her unbound breasts with every rise and fall of her body. Her hair stuck to her dampened, vulnerable throat, still wrapped in a delicate lace of scale-borne irritation from their training. Her eyes fell closed, darkened lashes sweeping across flushed cheeks as she reached between her legs to galvanize her pleasure.

He lost himself to the vision of her face as she used his body to reach her peak of ecstasy. She was wild, clawing back her humanity through animalistic impulse that shredded her reality for what few blissful seconds her biology would allow - and it finished him. Buried to the hilt inside her, he surrendered with every nerve in his body. He choked back a shout, neck pitched back, vicious sparks of need pouring through the conduit of his lust and claiming her in a torrent of screaming, feral possession. For a split second of eternity, he was lost, trembling before the avatar of his own carnal lust, wondering if he could ever be forgiven for wanting her so savagely.

And then it was over.

Minutes drifted by as he laid still, assuaged yet afflicted with the sin of indulgence. Gods forgive him, he wanted her. And perhaps even more forbidden than the pleasures of her body was the thought of holding her.

Indeed, the simple intimacies of loving someone seemed by far the most out of his reach. To stroke the sweat-slicked skin of her back, nudging his face into her damp hair as she laid atop him panting, satisfied, permeated with his essence and high on his venom. The rosy, burning flavor of her venomous gift lingered in his mouth. So close and yet nearly further away than she had ever been, pushing and pulling him in heartache.

Slowly, as he tidied himself, his phantom lover evaporated. Away she wisped, searching for the embrace of her wayward lover, wherever he might be.

His heart rate slowed as the seconds slipped by. 0400. Training in two hours.

Cheryl//this is me trying

Request: Can I request a season 1 cheryl x reader. Cheryl always protects reader from people and r is shy but falls in love with the redhead and some who’s accidentally tells her while she’s having a bad day but cheryl is quick to reassure her then they cuddle after going to pops or something and it’s just fluffy.

hey! happy valentines day gays! and get you, two imagines in one day, it must be the day of love. i hope you all like this because it’s really fluffy and i enjoyed writing this a lot!

Overnight, Riverdale became a shell of its former self. Two months since Kevin Keller and Moose Mason stumbled upon the body of Jason Blossom, and nobody has been the same since. 

The town is riddled with secrets, they’re slowly destroying it like a disease. Nobody trusts anybody anymore, everyone is on high alert, and everyone is a suspect. 

Cheryl usually loves being the centre of attention, she has done ever she was a kid. It’s something that comes naturally with being a twin, you share everything and as much as she loves loved the shared birthdays and friends, she has always loved being the centre of attention.

Now however, she hates it. Her life is a true crime documentary at the minute, and all she wants is for the killer to be caught so the crew can pack up and leave and she no longer has to stare down at the blinding lights being cast over her and her family. 

The only thing that’s kept her sane over the past two months, is you. Despite everything happening, despite the murder and the secrets and the suspicion, you’ve stuck by her side. You were with her when they found the body, and you haven’t really left since. 

The two of you are unlikely friends, she’s Cheryl. Bright and bold and never one to back down from confrontation. But you’re Y/n, sweet and shy and always the first to shrink away from any sort of attention directed at you. 

She knows you hate the constant attention recently, it’s something you get used when you’re best friends with the victim’s sister, but not once have you complained. 

You’ve being questioned by police, journalists and strangers on the internet. You’ve had camera’s shoved in your face on your walk back from school and been asked countless questions about what you know about the Blossom’s. And you’ve also been offered ridiculous amounts of money in order to talk. But no matter what happens, you always just rush past them and join Cheryl, who’s always waiting for you with a sad smile and warm hand. 

Due to the constant hoard of vultures swarming Riverdale High, the two of you had to figure out somewhere else to meet after school so you could walk the long way home. It adds twenty minutes to your walk, but it’s not that well known around town, meaning people can’t bother you. 

Plus, the extra twenty minutes that you get to spend with Cheryl isn’t the worst thing. It’s the opposite in fact. It’s the thing you look forward to, even if you are looking over your shoulder every so often 

But today you’re not at your meeting spot. 

When Cheryl pushes her way through the stares of her fellow students with you and only you on her mind and makes her way through the school basement, back up the stairs and out of the fire exit, you’re not waiting for her with a smile that makes her feel warm and a cold slice of pizza you snuck out of the cafe earlier. 

The only thing waiting for her is a full bin and an empty field. 

“Y/n?” She calls out and looks around the corner. She’s met with three seniors, all of which are smoking with absolutely no care for being caught. 

“She’s not here.” One of them says, her blonde hair and large glasses cover half of her face and Cheryl forces a smile. 

“Hey, Blossom.” A boy says and Cheryl freezes. Who knows what they want, but whatever it is, it probably won’t be nice. It’ll probably be something along the lines of ‘hey, did you kill your brother’ and no matter how many times she’s asked that, it doesn’t get any easier. “Maybe try the bleachers.” He says, ending his sentence with a sympathetic smile and Cheryl nods slowly, not really sure what to say. 

“Thanks.” She forces and spins on her heel. 

“We’re sorry about your brother, Cheryl.” The blonde one says and she turns around again. Each of them look sad, with matching frowns and sorrow swimming in their eyes. 

Jason meant the world to Cheryl, but he also meant a hell of a lot to other people too. And that’s when it hits her. Of course you’re at the bleachers. 

For some bizarre reason, only known by your father. You and your family used to come along every other week to watch the Bulldogs play. For a while you thought it was because your dad was trying to get you and your brother into football and this was a lot cheaper than the actual game, but the older you got the more you figured it was because he was just trying to relive his youth. For 90 minutes he could pretend that he was quarterback again and for those 90 minutes your dad would be the happiest he’d been all week. 

Then one week, a redhead sat beside you. In clothes that were far too expensive to be worn to a high school football game. Her parents looked like they wanted to be there as much as she did, but then a boy with matching red hair ran out on to the pitch and you’d never seen a smile quite like it. 

After that, you made sure to sit beside her at every game. And then one day she sat opposite you at lunch. The first few times she was alone, but then soon she began to appear with a group of other girls, but you were the only one she’d talk to. 

Eventually lunch times and football games turned into group projects and sleepovers. You spend hours braiding her hair and listening to her tell you stories of other worlds and the creatures that live in them. You’d sneak down the dark and creepy halls of Thornhill in hopes of finding a midnight snack, and instead be met by Jason and your older brother in clown masks. 

Eventually, you found a different way to get to the kitchen, one that Jason didn’t know about. And when he’d come looking for you, both of you would jump out  and chase him around the house, much to the dismay of Penelope and Clifford. 

Those bleachers are what started a whole friendship, not only between you and her, but also you and Jason. When you’re brother eventually made the team, thanks to a good word put in my Jason, despite him being a year younger. Him and Jason became as inseparable as you and Cheryl and so it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the four of you hanging out. It also meant that if Cheryl was busy, you and Jason would hang out until she finished whatever she was doing. 

Grief is a hell of a lonely thing, and sometimes Cheryl forgets that other people miss Jason too. With everything going on, she didn’t even think about how you were doing. With all the questions, accusations and crying that constantly fills Cheryl’s house. She never even asked how you were. 

And now her legs can’t carry her quick enough to were she hopes your sat. Because she’s already lost her brother, she can’t lose you too. She wobbles as her heels dig into the dirt, kicking up dust and mud as she runs across the field. Her hair swings behind her, and she can feel the red scrunchie loosen the quicker she runs. 

The bleachers have all sorts carved into them. Initials in hearts, some of them still there, some of them crossed out so aggressively that it’s a miracle they didn’t chop it in half. There’s inside jokes and ridiculous rumours. Codes and dates and everything in between. 

But something new has been added in the past few days. 

cheryl murdered jason

and y/n helped

The writing is small and barely legible, but it’s there and the more you run your fingers over it the more it carves itself into your heart. 

“Y/n?” Cheryl pants breathlessly and you quickly pull yourself away from it. Instead you stand up properly and pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands. The y/f/c scrunchie remains still in your hair and Cheryl has to stare at it for a few seconds to calm herself down. “You weren’t at our spot.” She says quietly and you close your eyes. 

You let her down. You let her down. You always let her down.  

“Sorry Cheryl.” You sigh and sit down in the dirt. Cheryl looks around before sitting beside you. “I just wanted some space.” You add and force yourself to look at her. 

The sun sits behind her, but even that doesn’t seem as bright as it used to be. Nothing is what it used to be. For the past two months, you’ve been told that thats a good thing. But what’s good about someone you loved being dead. What’s good about watching someone else you love go through life but not really live. 

Cheryl just exists. 

But she exists for you. 

Because as lost as she would be without you, she knows you would be just as lost without her. 

It’s an unspoken rule now, you always text each other when you wake up and before you go to sleep. It’s something you used to do anyway, but now you make a point not to forget. Because forgetting means that the worst could have happened, and that’s something neither of you can bare to deal with. 

“I get it.” She nods. “I was just worried that’s all.” She adds, trying to sound as casual as she can. But on the inside she’s screaming. Because she thought you had died, she thought whoever had killed Jason had gotten to you too, and the whole reason you’re both dead is because she wronged the wrong person. 

There’s a lot of people that don’t like Cheryl, being unliked comes naturally to her. But she doesn’t know how she’ll cope if she’s so unlikeable someone she loves died. 

She has no idea why your friends with her to be honest. She saw you staring at her at a football game once. But it wasn’t a stare she was used to. It wasn’t cold like her mothers or jealous like her friends. No, this was nice. You were staring at her like you wanted to know about her, like when you looked at her, you saw a friend not someone to be feared. 

And so Cheryl clung onto the tiny hint of friendship, the crack of a door into something that could happen, and she shoved herself through it. It worked, and now you’re the only person she’s nice to. She’s mean to everyone else, she calls them names and teases them, especially when they’re rude to you...but you stay. And she has no idea why, but she’s not going to wish it away. 

“Shit, sorry Cheryl.” You drop your head into your hands and Cheryl looks at you confused. She looks around, not really sure of what to do. “I didn’t think, God knows what you thought had happened.” You ramble and she realizes you’re crying. Her eyes widen and you look at her, your eyes red and puffed and your lips pulls into frown. 

“It’s okay.” She replies and wraps her arms around you. You bury your head into her neck, the smell of maple and cherries invade your senses and you let out a shaky breath. 

It smells like home and happier times, and you want to crawl into those happy memories and never come back out. “I was just being ridiculous.” She tries to play it off, to make it seem like she couldn’t feel her heartbeat in her throat and the ringing in her ears. Pretend like it didn’t feel like someone had pulled her heart out and stamped on it. 

“No, no you weren’t. I’m really sorry.” You sob and wrap your arms around her. She falls into your neck, surprised but not upset with how tight you’re holding her. She never wants you to let go. But of course she has to, and so however reluctant, she untangles herself from you and lets out a deep sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffle. She hands you a tissue and you wipe your eyes with it before scrunching it up in your hand. “I’ve just had a rubbish day. Somebody shoved this in my locker.” You frown and pull a balled up piece of paper out of your pocket. 

Cheryl’s eyebrows knit in confusion as she takes it from you, her fingers graze yours and you freeze for a few seconds. 

who do you think did it? 

cheryl __

y/n __

Jamie __

“Why is your brother on here?” Cheryl asks, her voice rising with each word and you rest your hand on top of hers to calm her down. 

“I dunno.” You shrug. “Your parents are on there too.” You add and point further down the page. 

“What a bunch of dicks.” She grumbles and crumples it up. “Do you know who it was?” You shrug and she sighs. 

“I’ve just gotten tired of the staring and the whispers. So I thought I’d just have five minutes peace before going home and having to listen to Jamie cry in his room but pretend he’s okay. Or for my parents to walk on eggshells around both of us. Neither of them know what to say, and because of that they keep saying the wrong thing.” You ramble and she listens intently, trying her best to find a resolution to all of your problems. 

Unfortunately, she doesn’t know the answer to everything, no matter what her mom says. 

“I just thought five minutes by myself can’t be terrible. But then I came down here and someone carve-well it doesn’t matter what they wrote. What matters is that I made you worry at the worst possible time in your life. I hurt you, and I’m really sorry. Believe me, hurting you is the last thing I want to do you. I feel sick even just thinking about it. I never, ever want to hurt you. I love you too much. I love you more that I’ve ever loved anything or anyone ever. I just love yo-” Your eyes widen when you realize what you’ve just admitted to. 

You don’t want to look at her, but she hasn’t said anything in a while and that’s strange for her. So you force yourself to look at her, expecting the worst. Expecting disgust, disappointment, betrayal. But it’s none of those. 

Instead she’s smiling. And she looks actually happy. Something you haven’t seen in so long, something you’re glad to see, despite the circumstances. 

Oh yeah, you’ve just told her you’re in love with her. What do you say after that? 

“I-er-”

“Y/n?” She cuts you off before you get the chance to ruin the moment. She’s known you for long enough to know that when you get nervous, you ramble and when you ramble you say weird things. 

You’re grateful for her cutting you off, usually if she talks over you, it annoys the hell out of you. But this time it’s welcomed and she stifles a small laugh and the sigh of relief you let out. 

But the next thing she says is something that you weren’t expecting, but you’re sure as hell grateful for. 

“Would you like to go on a date?” 

---

The red lights from outside, illuminate Cheryl’s pale face in the night, painting her in a reddish hue and you find yourself staring at her for far longer than would be considered normal. 

Lucky for you, she hasn’t noticed. She doesn’t seem to be paying attention to anything, not really anyway. Instead she stares down at her food, pushing a few fries around the plate and anxiety rises in your chest. 

She’s already regretting doing this. She’s made a mistake and now she doesn’t know how to let you down gently. 

She seems to sense you nerves because she’s looking at you quickly, a sad smile twitching at her lips.

“Sorry, I just. Jason always used to tease me about the two of us. It’s the only thing we’d take about sometimes. He’d constantly ask me if I’d asked you out yet. And every time I would say ‘no, we’re just friends’ but, well neither of us really believed that.” She says, a small laugh escapes her lips near the end, but she quickly shuts it off. It’s too soon for her to be laughing, too soon for her to be happy. 

“Yeah.” You nod and finish your drink. “He used to tease me too. ‘if you don’t tell her, I’ll do it myself’.” You mimic his voice and a ghost of a smile twitches at her lips as she forces herself to look at you. “I am really glad you did ask me though.” Your voice shakes a little with nerves and Cheryl stares at you confused. “I do really like you Cheryl.” 

“I really like you too.” She smiles softly and you stare at her lips. Sometimes you think the red lipstick has permanently stained her lips cherry red. Even when you guys are a sleepover, she still has bright red lips and the other part of you wonders if that’s just what they look like. 

“Hey.” You start and a sly smile twitches at your lips as you remember an old memory. She leans forward, excited to know what you’re smiling about. 

It could literally be anything, from a musty old book she let you borrow from the Thornhill archive, to a new tv show you started to watch. But whatever it is, she’s excited to hear you talk about it. 

“Can you remember last year. It was Jamie’s 16th birthday and you and Jason were invited over. Jason was there because him and Jamie were planning on sneaking out later that night, and you tagged along so you could keep me company.” You start and she smiles at the memory. 

The four of you sat in the living room, while your mom brought cake and your dad sang ‘happy birthday’. Cheryl remembers how happy she was, and she remembers talking to Jason afterwards, the two of them whispering and wondering if that was what a normal family was supposed to look like. 

You, Cheryl and Jason had each pitched in for the record player he wanted. And even though you all knew that just Cheryl alone could have been able to buy him it if she really wanted, you knew they split it for you. 

Jamie was ecstatic when he opened the box, and then all of the records you’d bought to go with it. He’d played it every single day since getting it, but now you haven’t heard it in months.

“Yeah.” She nods, a sad smiling taking over he face. “Can you remember when Jason pushed his face into the cake.” She adds making you snort a laugh. 

The bell above Pop’s rings and Betty and Archie walk in. They send you a sympathetic smile before sitting at their own booth, and you and Cheryl share a look. 

“Would you like another one?” You point at her milkshake and she nods, smiling shyly. 

---

The walk home is over far too soon, and it’s only when you’re standing on your porch do you realize you took the normal way home by accident. Either the media has gone to sleep, or people are starting to forget about Jason and Riverdale. 

That thought makes you frown and Cheryl watches your expression falter before you look back at her again. 

“Thank you for walking me home.” You smile shyly and a nervous laugh escapes her lips. 

“It’s no problem.” She shrugs and the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds longer than normal. She’s about to leave when you grab her hand and spin her around to face you. 

She’s surprised for a second, until suddenly she feels a pair of lips on hers, and then the only thing she can feel is them. Everything else disappears, and though the kiss is short and a little awkward, it’s still perfect. 

“Would you like to come in?” You ask and motion your head to large wooden door. The pain is chipped around the metal numbers, something your mom has nagged your dad about for the past 6 months. “We still have the rest of y/f/s to watch.” 

“I’d love to.” She nods and the two of you grin at each other. “But seriously, how many times have you seen that now?” 

“It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen it.” You unlock the front door, giving it a quick kick before you stumble through it. “What matters is that this is the first time you’re seeing it.” You add and she rolls her eyes but follows you up the stairs anyway. 

The sun sets over another day in Riverdale and darkness floods the town. The streets are cold and scary, but wrapped in your duvet and Cheryl’s arms, you’ve never felt warmer. 

“Is it the hat I’m supposed to be looking at?”

taehyung x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 2.8K

a/n: this one is for all my thots who love Tae’s weird but sexy ways lol. Peaches replaces the cowboy hat that was smooshed in “I’m pretty sure we just smashed your cowboy hat” and surprises Tae with it the same night he surprises her with a new perm. And they both get turned on very quickly. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

THE audacity.

Scoffing at your phone, you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t look away as you stared at the close-up selfie of your boyfriend. It was sent with the accompanying message, “Do you like what you see, Peaches?” The photo was taken too close to see the new hairdo in its all its glory, but you could make out the curls and waves of the fresh perm hanging in his darkened gaze. This bitch.

The first perm was enough to kill you. Now he went and got another, without giving you so much as a heads up or a simple, “hey, brace yourself”.

Your staring at the phone turned into a glare. He knew exactly what he was doing. Taehyung knew just how to get you riled up. The man was a tease. But luckily, you knew him just as well as he knew you.

Taehyung was the king of self-control, which could be frustrating, presenting an unfair playing field when trying to work one another up. However, nothing got to your boyfriend quite like the element of surprise. He loved the unexpected, and he could never resist you when you pulled out unpredictable moves.

You recently replaced your boyfriend’s cowboy hat as a joke, as his old one got a little crushed underneath your bodies the first time you ever had sex. “You owe me a new hat, Peaches,” the man had teasingly told you that night. Well, you did buy him a new one, but now that was going to work against him.

Two could play at Taehyung’s little games.

Taehyung was on his way over, and if your timing was right, he should be just minutes from walking through your front door. And you were ready for him, the cowboy hat situated atop your head as you leaned against the wall across the room from your front door.

When a knock sounded against your door, you rolled your eyes. Really? You waited for a moment, knowing full well the door was unlocked, and even if it wasn’t Tae had exactly three keys to your place, one as a backup and one as a replacement to the one that he lost, that he later found after cleaning his room at the dorm. But another knock sounded, showing you he was really trying to fuck with you tonight.

Letting out a deep sigh, you traipsed across the room, checking to make sure it was indeed Taehyung waiting in the hallway as you looked through the door viewer. There he stood, his hood up, knowing you’d check before answering the door and not wanting to spoil his new hair through the tiny peephole.

Huffing, you twisted the door knob, pulling the heavy wooden door open, catching Taehyung toss the hood back just as the shock overtook his features. His widened eyes took you in, wearing the cowboy hat. Wearing only the cowboy hat.

“Do you like what you see, Partner?” You asked, purposely lowering your tone as you mimicked his earlier text, adding the western term in honor of the single piece of attire.

Tae’s mouth dropped open just slightly as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and you had to admit, the expression that exposed your effect on him in combination with his new wavey hair was beyond sexy. It was almost lewd. He appeared seemingly stunned until the realization of your nude form, standing in the doorway in front of the very public hallway of your apartment building, hit him at once.

Quickly, your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you, covering your body with his own as he trudged forward, shoving you back inside the apartment before he kicked the door closed. “Fuck, Peaches,” he let out in a huff. “What if someone saw you?”

“Oh, so you get to walk around in public with that hair looking like pure sex on legs, but I’m not allowed to stand in my doorway like this?” You asked him teasingly, a scoff leaving the man’s mouth as he looked at you in utter disbelief.

“How is that the same thing in any way?” He scolded you, though a smirk threatened to form on his lips.

“How is it not?” You retorted with a glare. “Look at you, baby,” you spoke, reaching a hand up to toy with a curl, feeling the soft hair between your fingers.

And there was the smirk, making your boyfriend look even hotter as his hands gripped your waist, pushing away from his body just enough so he could eye you up and down, keeping his hands on your skin. The simply touch from his gorgeous hands sent anticipation to your core.

“Look at me?” He questioned, his tone lowered as his gaze became more focused.

“I got you a new hat,” you smiled sweetly. A low breathy chuckle vibrated from the man’s throat as he properly drank in your presentation for him. He’d seen you naked too many times too count, but he had a way of appreciating you that made it feel like the first time with every touch and glance he laid upon you.

But it wasn’t just your nude body that was working him up by the second. It was that element of surprise he couldn’t resist. Add the callback to the cowboy hat from your first time together, and he was beyond the point of self-restraint as his hands lightly dragged down from your waist, overtop your hips, his tongue swiping over his drying lips as he prized the curve.

“Is it the hat I’m supposed to be looking at?” He questioned, as his orbs slowly scanned the tops of your thighs, up the shape of your hips, the softness of your belly and the supple flesh of your breasts, lingering for a moment before dragging his gaze over your collarbones and along your throat, finally settling on your face as his eyes met yours.

“Well, I did buy it just for you,” you smirked, Taehyung flashing you his boxy grin, highly entertained by your teasing, and the fact that you both knew it was working.

Finally, his eyes roamed over the hat, nodding in approval. “I don’t think it’s ever gonna look this good on me, though,” he complimented, you giggling at the comment.

His hands reached around your body to feel at your backside, you smirking at the touch. “It would be a crime to cover up this hair anyway,” you noted, Taehyung smiling fondly as he shook out his fringe.

“You like it?” He asked, a youthfulness overtaking his expression for a moment, a total contrast to the hungry man from just moments before. You nodded eagerly, digging your hands into the strands at the back of his head, giving a slight tug, a scoff leaving the man’s lips at the action.

“But you never answered me,” you started, Taehyung raising his eyebrows in question. “Do you like what you see, Taehyung?” You asked, the use of his name in your sultry tone shattering the last of his self-control as he gripped the flesh of your bum roughly.

Letting out the faintest of moans at his aggressive touch, Taehyung brought his lips to yours in a less-than graceful motion, knocking the hat off your head as he kissed you hard. You immediately matched the action, moving your mouth with his in perfect synchrony.

Taehyung’s arms wrapped around your waist as he guided you backward toward the bedroom, shamelessly letting out groans into the kiss, the sounds only working you up even more than you already were. Entering the intimate space of your room, you expected to feel the plush of your mattress against your back, a surprised gasp meeting Taehyung’s mouth when your ass was pushed against the cold wood of your vanity.

The items on top of the furniture rattled at the impact, the wood thudding against the wall, Taehyung’s hands coming to meet your face as he pushed his clothed body against your nude one hungrily.

Suddenly very aware of the lack of skin on yours, you reached under his hoodie, lifting it and the t-shirt underneath up his abdomen, Taehyung separating from your lips to allow you to pull it over his arms and head. When the clothing was off, no longer obstructing your skin to feel the warmth of his, Taehyung replaced his hand on your jaw as he kissed along your throat, searching for the perfect spot on your neck to leave his mark.

The man didn’t mark you often, but it was times like these when he lost control of his inhibitions completely that he couldn’t resist the urge to leave at least one purplish spot upon your soft skin.

You let out a whine at the realization of his intent as he prepared to suck against the side of your throat, Taehyung giggling against the spot. “Shush,” he mumbled, you letting out a breathy laugh before it got cut off with a whimper as he began to leave the hickey.

Pulling away, he soothed his thumb over the spot gently, a proud smirk overtaking his features. “Pleased with yourself?” You asked the man, Taehyung flashing you a boxy smile as he nodded, just before his gaze darkened again. He left a sweet lingering kiss to your lips before instantly dropping to his knees.

There were a few things your boyfriend was the king of. One of them being self-control. Another, duality. And as if you could ever forget, which you definitely couldn’t, when his tongue eagerly met your clit, you were quickly reminded that your boyfriend was the absolute king of eating pussy. Part of possessing self-control and duality was having the means to turn it on and off. When his mouth met your core, he switched his restraint all the way off, giving you everything he had. All you could do was grip the edge of the vanity with one hand and bask in the pleasure as your other hand tugged on his stunning wavey strands, every pull a silent praise for the man on his knees before you.

Being a master of your body and knowing just how to touch and work you, Taehyung sent you into your first orgasm of the night in no time. As you jolted in overstimulation, the man stood up straight, immediately pulling his sweatpants and underwear down his legs, stepping out of them and kicking them a few feet away.

Placing his hands on your hips, he kissed you once again, the meeting less messy than before but with the same level of passion and need. Just as you were settling into the rhythm of the kiss, he broke you out of it by spinning you around, pushing on your upper back to make you bend over. Running his finger up and down your slit a few times, he soon replaced it with his length, rubbing the head of it against you before sinking into you with a drawn-out groan.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, you letting out a small moan in response to the stretch. His hand found solace on your breast, the other wrapped around your stomach, holding your body close as he worked in and out of you.

You stared straight ahead at the reflection in the mirror, watching as Taehyung bit his lip as groans left his throat, his eyes scanning up and down your back appreciatively. His arm unraveled from your waist to gently sooth up your spine. Just as you dropped your head toward the vanity’s surface, Taehyung’s hand gripped your jaw, lifting your head back up to make you direct your eyes to the mirror again.

Meeting your eyes in the glass, you moaned at the way he thrusted particularly hard and deep upon locking his darkened orbs on yours. “Look at yourself, Peaches” he breathed out lowly, you nearly whining at the tone of his voice. “See how stunning you are?”

“Fuck, Tae,” you moaned, keeping your eyes on him, on his focused expression, at his strong hand clasped over your breast, at the heave of his chest as he got closer and closer to his high. He was gorgeous, his eyes scanning over expanse of your back and the roundness of your ass as his hips slammed against you, the wood of the vanity banging against the wall as the intensity of his movements increased.

When you clenched around him, he knew you were coming, and he wasn’t far behind. As your eyes closed, your jaw going slack, Taehyung wrapped his arm back around your belly, squeezing it’s soft flesh as he pulled you upright so your back was against his chest. You laid your head back on his shoulder, his thrusts slowing as you came down. Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your cheek, making you smile softly as you slowly returned to earth.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” you breathed out. “Insane,” you chuckled, Taehyung giggling with you. Turning your face to look at him, your hand met the opposite side of his face, pulling him into a passionate kiss. “Finish, baby,” you mumbled against his lips, Taehyung groaning as he gave you another thrust, eliciting a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he pulled out of you, flipping you around quickly before lifting you on top of the vanity. As he slid back into you, his hands grabbed your waist tightly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you held yourself close to him.

It didn’t take him long to reach his orgasm as he soon pulled out, resting his forehead against your own as he jerked himself off with one hand, the other hand gripping your hip roughly.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot,” you complimented in a breathy tone, pressing light kisses to his partly opened mouth. Digging your fingers into the dampened curls at the nape of his neck, you tugged on the strands just slightly, Taehyung letting out a mixture of moan and a laugh just as he came on your abdomen.

Before you could whisper another compliment, Taehyung’s mouth was on yours in haste, you easily kissing him back as your hand slid further into his curls. Leaning away from him, you smirked. “I love your hair,” you told him, Taehyung giggling.

“Thank you, Peaches,” he pressed one last kiss to your lips before stepping away from you. “Let me get a towel.”

You chuckled as you watched your naked boyfriend jog out of the room to grab a towel from the bathroom, listening as he slammed cupboards, his feet patting against the floor as he made random vocalizations that were far too familiar to you after knowing Taehyung for so long.

When he stepped back into the room, he paused in the doorway, striking a pose as the towel hung over his shoulder, his hand dipping the cowboy hat at you.  

“Oh my god,” you laughed, as Taehyung switched to another pose, settling his hand on top of the hat, his other hand on his bare hip.

“How’s it look?” He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow, you trying to conceal your giggles and smile.

“So sexy,” you complimented.

“You like this?” He asked, switching the pose yet again, his hand leaving the hat to grab the towel, looking off into the imaginary distance.

“Tae,” you whined in complaint, dragging his name out. “Of course I like it, but I’m kind of sitting here with your cum all over my stomach,” you reminded him, Taehyung giggling as he grabbed the towel off his shoulder.

“Right, sorry,” he apologized bashfully. However, he couldn’t stop playing as he started twirling the towel over his head as if it was a lasso, making his way toward you as you laughed loudly at his silly behavior.

“You’re ridiculous,” you told him as he wiped your abdomen clean.

“You love it,” he noted, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose.

“I do,” you agreed, catching his lips in a sweet meeting. “I need a shower.”

“Oh?” He asked, widening his eyes innocently. How he could look so innocent as he wiped your body down was beyond you, but fuck did you love that duality.

“Wanna join?” You asked, Taehyung flashing you a stunning boxy smile. Grabbing the hat off his head, he threw it across the room.

“I can’t get my hair wet yet,” he pouted, shaking out his hair, you nearly cooing at his sulky expression.

Running your hand through his hair, you hummed. “I have a shower cap,” you noted, Taehyung’s smile returning as you giggled at your suggestion. “Now that would be sexy,” you teased, Taehyung dropping his forehead against your own as he let out a laugh.

“Let’s go then, Peaches,” he told you, you kissing the apple of his cheek as you continued to snicker.

“Fucking Kim Taehyung in a shower cap,” you thought out loud. “A dream come true, really.”

“I’m all about granting your wishes,” he joked along with you, shooting you a wink.

You gasped, Tae’s eyes widening as he looked at you expectantly. “Like a fairy godmother,” you cooed, your boyfriend scoffing as he held back a smile. “Could you get any sexier?”

Just Us (Chapter Ten: Request)

← Chapter Nine 

“We only have a bag of flour to give you this time.” He handed me a bag smaller than any ones they had before. I knew this might be the last time they would give me anything for my bread, so I took it without any word, but not without a nasty look. The cloth tied around my mouth hid my frown from him as I looked down at the small bag that even had a hole in it. This wasn’t going to make more than twenty loaves and I knew I was quickly running out of my own supply. I had tried to use my extra money to stock up as harvest came, but the price of wheat flour was so ridiculous, only the government could afford it. They bought most of the stock themselves and were hiding it. This small bag of flour was probably scooped out of a big box as they laughed in tricking me. 

I walked out the doors of the stock yard, pausing as the soldiers carried out another covered body on the stretcher. I wondered if I could recognize the person if they showed me their face. I had started giving the people my own names and using the interactions I had with them to guess their positions in Shiganshina. Some refugees were nice and would have a conversation with me while I ate my allotted rations on the edge of the stage they set up. It was a precaution so the refugees couldn’t run and push over the food stand like they had done a few months previous. It happened on my day off, so I wasn’t there to see it happen, but the next day, a stage had already been built with stairs that forced them into single file lines. If they pushed each other, the Garrison now had an above view to punish and hit those who forced themselves in line. 

I had conversations with some children and taught them a hand game from my youth to pass the time. Some of their parents would talk to me too, if they were young, and ask about the situation outside of the stockyard. Since violence had increased outside the barracks, they easily found a scapegoat and restricted the refugees to only the stockyard. It had no effect on the violence, but it seems the citizens of Trost found comfort in having someone to blame for the slow downfall of humanity. 

The trio never talked to me. Their grandfather always greeted me with a smile in line and I would give him the four loaves of bread for the children. The boy, Eren Jaeger, would get into fights with the guards more and more, but he would always be pushed to the ground or saved by the girl. It reminded me so much of myself. Was he getting beat up because it was something to do? Maybe it was the only thing that would make him feel something throughout the day. I desperately wanted to approach them and talk to them, but I never was able too. As soon as I would spot them, they’d disappear to some place in the stockyard and the smaller children would crowd around me to play the “clapping game” as they called it. 

Everyday I walked home alone, knife gripped in my pocket, I thought of what I would say to Eren Jaeger if he ever was thrown on my doorstep. He probably wouldn’t care for the pity of an older woman who had no relation to him. He also probably wouldn’t care about my time in the Underground and how I thought he acted like I did. I had made a game plan and everyday would go over it and tweak some parts. I’d have the trio help me make bread, talking to them about anything. Slowly, I’d tell them I was an orphan and maybe find some relation with them. The only adult figure around them seemed to be the grandfather and that made me wary because of the situation they came from. Their parents were no doubt killed by titans. 

I took the cloth off of my mouth as I got far enough away from the stockyard and took a deep breath of the slowly freezing air. It was going to get cold again, but the farmers had predicted a nicer winter than last year. We’d be lucky to get any snow this time, but it was better because they could chance growing more late winter crops. I decided that for the end of the year, I might as well open my shop and keep the tradition of year-end and winter pastries, hoping people would buy even without the fresh fruit. Another motivation is that some of my supplies were going to go bad and I didn’t want to lose more money than I had already. People like something sweet when they’re going through a bad time, so I’d hope they’d want my sweets. 

“Eva! Eva! Eva!” I looked up and saw Elias running towards me, paper in hand. He had a growth spurt over the summer and fall months, and now he was almost to my chin. His hair was also much too long, but he wouldn’t let me cut it because apparently the other boys at school also had hair like his. During summer and current late fall, I had taken them in pretty much everyday, commissioning them to make bread with me and giving them a few slices. Since Wall Maria had fallen, their parents had gone a bit crazy and so had a lot of other people in Trost. The Order of the Walls had grown into a huge following and not just a tiny cult anymore. They were going to build a church soon in the city square and the kid’s father was too busy with that to care for the proper needs of his children. I mended their clothes, helped them with homework, and even let them sleep on my couch when they got a little too full after dinner. Their parents didn’t even notice their absence when I brought them back home. 

“Yes, Elias?” He pushed a piece of paper into my hands and I saw the hundred percent he had gotten on the spelling test we had worked on together. I was awful at spelling, but I knew enough to help him. We would use flour, spread out on the table, to practice spelling words. This past list was increasingly difficult and I had to even look at it again a few times. 

“I got a perfect score on the spelling test!” his smile beamed up at me and made me stop thinking about the year-end and the refugees for a few seconds. 

“I’m proud of you Elias. You practiced hard for this.” He started following me back to the café and I knew he probably would want to come in and do his homework on Levi’s table. It was funny that Elias had such an unconscious affinity for him. His favorite toy was still the horse, he would sit at his table and do homework, and he started drinking tea because I refused him coffee. When Elias sat at the table doing his homework, it helped to fill the void that was left. 

Levi hadn’t returned in four months, almost five this coming Monday. The only thing I had was the button down and two letters he had sent before his work consumed him. I was waiting on a reply from a letter I had sent maybe three months ago. I knew that he was still alive and right outside of Trost, but only cadets would come in and out for refugee security. Everyday, I would hear them open the gates a six and I would open the window of my apartment, hoping to see him on his horse. I’ve probably watched the Scout cadets come into Trost so much, they must know my face by now. 

I missed him. 

Elias grabbed my hand unconsciously as we walked and broke me out of my thoughts for a second time. It seemed that there were three reasons I woke up everyday. The refugees, the kids, and the Scouts. It’s good that I had things to live for now. 

“Can I do my schoolwork in your café, Eva? There’s a lot of people over at Daddy’s house today and June’s at the bookstore.” June had recently got an apprenticeship at the book binder’s shop as he had no sons to pass it down to. I had given him the recommendation and once he saw the knowledge June had about books, he accepted her in. She was mostly selling books to people, proving her worth to the book binder, before she got to learn the secrets. Sometimes she would bring back broken books he had given her and think of the ways she would fix it. I was surprised at how close she actually was in her guesses. However, her new job had left Elias to fend for himself and grow up now without his sister at his side. He would play with friends, but once they had to go home, he was by himself. I was happy to indulge him in anything he wanted to do since I was alone too. We’d be lonely together. 

“Of course, Elias. We can go pick up June when she’s finished too.” That was good enough for him and he ran ahead, turning right out of the alleyway to get to the door of the café. I wonder who would fill my days once Elias was old enough to gain an apprenticeship. Jonas would be off somewhere delivering, the kids would be gone, and Levi would be on some expedition. Maybe I’ll get a cat.

“E-Eva?” I turned the corner and stopped walking to survey the scene. My stomach instantly dropped and I felt like I wanted to throw up. Why were these two here? Elias looked up and the tall, blonde man, instantly recognizing him. Their faces didn’t seem distressed and they were just leaning against the wall of the café, horses tied to the wooden posts. He can’t be gone, I would have felt it.

“Miss Evylnn Flynn?” He was the first to speak up and Hange kicked herself off the wall, wagging her finger at me. 

“I knew you were lying to me! Both of you!” They weren’t sad or upset. He had to be fine, but why were they here and not him? I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed to not see him behind Erwin’s shadow.

“Miss Flynn, we would like to have a word with you in private?” Erwin gestured to the door of the café and I swallowed hard. Was I in trouble? Why is the Commander here to talk to me in private? 

“Elias, you can go up to my apartment and do your school work on my desk. I’ll come up and get you when I’m done talking to the Commander.” Elias looked back at me, his eyes whimsical. He was pretty much meeting his hero and I was pushing him away from it. Erwin looked down at the boy and smiled. To pay him for listening, I’d ask Erwin to talk to Elias. If he had time to come and talk to me personally, he could spend five more minutes to entertain Elias.

“Can you do that for us, Elias? I promise it won’t take too long.” He nodded rapidly and Erwin reached down to fluff his hair. As soon as he was done, Elias ran up the stairs to my apartment, shutting the door with a slam. I’d have yelled at him if I wasn’t in this situation. My heart was speeding up and, if they could, my palms would be sweating. 

“Miss Flynn?” Erwin turned and gestured to the café door again. I nodded once and walked over, unlocking the door and leading them both in. What could they want? My mind was running through a hundred scenarios. Most of them ended with something happening to Levi. The other popular answer was that I was somehow in trouble. 

Once the door closed behind me, I got the nerve to turn around and smile at them. Hange’s presence made me slightly more comfortable, but this was the first time I had met Erwin. His energy was completely overwhelming and even if he looked nice, you could tell the amount of power he had. It was like the positive version of Levi. 

“Can I get you two anything to drink?” I whipped my hands on my jacket, looking to the floor. 

“Do you have any juice? I’m so thirsty, I barely had time for lunch!” I smiled a bit at Hange and walked over to the icebox I had. The only consumers of the juice were Elias and June, so it was nice to give it to someone else. 

“C-Commander?” I asked, silently cursing at my stutter. How was he more intimidating to me than Levi had ever been? He smiled at me and nodded before sitting down at the center table. I picked out another glass bottle and took one for myself. Hopefully they liked orange.

They both were just staring at me, waiting for me to come and join them. I handed them the juice and paused for a few seconds before sitting down. They both seemed so relaxed and I was exactly the opposite. My hands were fidgeting under the table and I dare not look at Erwin. Levi would probably yell at me for how shy and weak I seemed to them. Hange even downed her juice and let out a big ‘ah’ as she slammed it down on the table while we sat there. Only then, I realized the thin film of dust on the table. If Levi found out I sat his Commander on a dirty table, it would be over for me.

“Miss Flynn-”

“Eva. You can call me Eva. If we’re going to be seeing each other multiple times, it’s better to be one first name basis.” He smiled a bit, probably to calm me down, and continued. 

“Well, Eva… I don’t know how to begin this conversation, but I believe I can start by asking you what your relationship with Captain Levi is?” I blinked and looked at Hange. She was leaning forward, smiling at me, expectant at my answer. Had they found out? Was there a reason Levi might have told them about us? What if there’s only suspicion and I’m the one who outs us because I wasn’t careful? Was Erwin trying to intimidate me off of a hunch Hange had? 

“Why are you asking?” I wasn’t going to give them a straight answer. Erwin smiled a bit, a genuine one this time, and put one hand up.

“We have no ill will with the conversation. Both Hange and I are just curious about the situation our Captain may be in. The way you answer, however, might lead to some concerns.” Well, that makes me not want to answer your question, Commander. I took a sip of my juice before sitting up straight again. If we were to have this conversation, it would have to seem like I was being truthful. My hands were still shaking as I sat them on my lap.

“What has the Captain said?” Hange almost jumped out of her chair.

“Barely anything! I’m aching to know how Levi is when he’s with you! Is he a cuddler? Does he know nothing about relationships?” My eyes widened at her answer and it made me believe that he had to have said something to them. But, why? Did they back him into a corner?

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but the Captain and I are only friends. I haven’t seen him in over four months since I closed my café.” Hange leaned back in her chair and laughed crazily. I was starting to see what Levi meant. 

“I appreciate the loyalty you have to Levi’s and your private life, however, he has already informed us of you two’s relationship. We are only finding time now to come and visit, but we’ve known for a month.” I choked on my juice at Erwin’s words and wiped my mouth, swallowing hard. 

“He… did?” It was squeak and that got Hange laughing even more. So, how did they know if they were being truthful? Erwin nodded and handed me a handkerchief from his coat pocket. I thanked him and wiped the leftover juice off my hands.

“He believed it best that, as the Commander, that I know about your existence for various reasons. Hange also happened to be in the room because she is the only person who has officially met you and vogue for your personality. I had no idea about your visit to the Scout Headquarters until yesterday and that is a security risk.” I nodded and tried to calm down my racing heart. It was… interesting to finally have someone know about our relationship. Especially the Commander of the Scout’s. It was also concerning that the one who gossips the most in the Scouts also holds that information. Levi had told me how Hange revealed weekly who was having sex with who during boring meetings. 

“May I ask, what were his reasonings?” 

“As Commander of the Scout Regiment, I am the first line of defense for my soldiers. I pledge to protect them as best I can within our job description. This pledge of protection goes to their families and loved ones as well. I believe it to be Captain Levi’s intention that you are also under this hedge of protection concerning this period of political and societal unrest we are currently experiencing. He told us about a recent mishap you had with the refugees in Trost.” 

“Oh, yes, that makes sense.” He shifted in his chair and pulled out an envelope from his jacket. 

“Another reason is that I have personal services that deliver mail much faster than the average carrier and much more secretive as well. Currently, the Scout’s are being monitored for reasons I cannot reveal to you. He believes, and I concur, that if your existence is publicized to the government, you could be used as bait or a bargaining chip. Some in the government are not happy with Captain Levi’s placement and rank in the Scouts and the repercussions of his past come back to haunt him. If not now, sometime in the future.” I took the envelope off the table and recognized Levi’s wispy handwriting. A response to my letter. This made my heart sing with joy. He hadn’t forgotten to write back, but he was pushed in a difficult situation that didn’t allow him to. I shouldn’t have doubted him so much.

“Did the monitoring begin around three months ago?” He nodded and I noticed Hange was looking between be and the letter. She’s very curious about Levi’s private life, and I couldn’t blame her. I had been that interested in him as soon as he walked into my café. 

“There is information that the Scout’s have been given that can be perceived as a huge security threat if society gets wind of it. I also agree with the government’s judgement on that and am trying my best to limit security breaches in the Scouts.” That’s when the real reason they were here hit me. It wasn’t to deliver a letter and oogle at our relationship. I was a security threat to them. I was in trouble. My mind went back to the night Levi and I had before he left. Had he told them about that too? How much has he said?

“I see. That is why you came here today, I assume.” I looked him right in the eyes and he didn’t seem to have any anger in them. I remembered Levi and I’s conversation about Erwin. I wasn’t going to know at all what he was thinking until he specifically told me.

“I have known Levi enough to build trust with him. I trust him with information that is top secret and dangerous for society. If certain things get out, it could cause riots and more civil unrest as the expense of the Scouts. Levi has told me that you support the Scout’s endeavors the most out of any branch of the military. I hope that the support you have for us also translates into loyalty.” He didn’t blink, waiting for my response. 

“He hasn’t told me anything of that nature, Commander. The only thing he has told me is that he cannot morally support whatever the Scout’s are doing at the beginning of the coming year.” Hange seemed to let out a sigh of relief and I even saw Erwin sit back an inch. I understood why they might be on edge about that. They have no idea how Levi is when he is with someone like me and I am someone who frequents the refugee camps. 

“Yes, that seems to be a common theme among our officers. However, we do not have the power needed to fight back against orders directly from the government. I hope that once the plans reach the public ear, your support of the Scouts and Captain Levi doesn’t waiver. It would be a shame for the Captain to have a good thing leave him for something that he didn’t have a choice in.” I took another breath and noticed my heart was slowing down. I wasn’t going to be thrown in some dungeon and tortured for the information I don’t know. That made me feel better about this conversation. 

“Now, I must plainly state the requests we have for you. They shouldn’t be unreasonable, but I will say this is the first time we’ve had someone of Captain Levi’s rank be involved with a normal citizen. I think you can see why we have the need to be cautious and explain common Scout things to someone who isn’t in our place. You could be a security threat if you do not know proper protocol.” That was only slightly demeaning. 

“Yes, Commander. I do understand the need for me to know what I can and cannot do or say.” He smiled again and it amazed me the duality he had. He made you feel welcomed with his smile, and then completely intimidated with his status and demeanor. 

“As you are in a relationship with someone who is given classified information on a daily basis, it can be possible for it to easily slip out of Levi when he isn’t thinking. We ask you not to repeat anything you hear from Levi, even if you disagree with it. There may come a time when people you know are involved or put in danger by the operations of the Royal Government, therefore I’m asking you to bear some of the pain of a Scout officer in these situations.” 

“It seems you’re setting me up for the coming year, Commander… or at least you have a situation in mind currently.” Hange smirked and pointed at me. 

“You’re smart, Eva. I can see how you might last around Levi’s.” I wonder what they think Levi and I’s interactions are. They probably don’t think I’m the one who makes him suffer with my words more than he does me. Imagine if they knew how much I made their Captain blush. I smiled thinking about it. 

“The next request. As I extend my protection to you, I request you do the same to Levi and any Scout who is in need of assistance. Captain Levi was once a wanted man, and the government could easily turn their back on him if they deem it worthy of their agenda. There might come a time where you will have to shield or protect Levi or members of the Scout Regiment from the Royal Government. I’m best stating that, as someone in a relationship with the Captain, you may need to lie and commit treason for his or our safety. You are a part of the Scout Regiment now, and that is some of the responsibility that comes with it.” I sat there and thought that one over. It was a huge request, but not one that would easily deter me from Levi and the Scouts. I thought of the Garrison soldiers kicking down Eren Jaeger everyday, or Mitras not dispatching any MPs or food supplies to the districts struggling to stay alive. If I knew it was for the better, I could easily betray them. I owe nothing to the government.

“You don’t have to accept this right awa-” I shook my head and stopped him. 

“No, I can do that. The government has never done anything for me. I can easily betray them for a cause and people I believe in.” This made both of them smile instantly. 

“Levi was right, your loyalty and regard seems to be astounding, Eva. I believe he has found a fine woman to be with.” I looked down at my hands, trying to hide the blush with my hair. I don’t know why that compliment hit me the way it did, but people admiring our hidden relationship made me happy, I guess. Especially the Commander. It wouldn’t happen much more than this, so I should savor it.

“Am I able to make requests, Commander?” I looked up at him again when my blush subsided. 

“Erwin. You can call me Erwin, and I will try my best to accept them. If it is something I cannot do, I will have to refuse. Our positions of freedom are very different, Eva.” I nodded and took another sip of my juice. There has been something bothering me since Levi and I had talked about Erwin. 

“If you are asking me to put my life and reputation on the line for the Scouts and Levi, I must request that equally. I understand you cannot predict the outcome of expeditions, and I know we both know that Levi won’t die simply because of that. I’m specifically asking for you to protect him against the government.” He crossed his arms and I still couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I don’t think I know what you mean, Eva. You can’t be asking me to commit treason for one soldier? I am unable to do that.” I shook my head at him and formulated my next sentences. I also had a specific scenario in my mind. 

“If the government asks something of Levi that would lead to his certain death, no matter how it will help society, I want you to do everything you can to protect him from that fate. Refuse his service. Discharge him from the Scouts. Anything it takes. I know he’ll take it, no matter what they give him, but I want to be selfish for him. He’s too valuable to humanity to be lost in such a simple manner. ” 

“It seems you’re setting me up for something, Eva… or at least you have a situation in mind currently,” he mimicked my words and it made me smirk a bit. We could play the same game with each other. It felt nice to be able to be on the same level with him right now unlike the last few minutes. We were bartering back and forth. I was in my element. I could never match his strategy or intelligence, but I knew how to make a deal. 

“Secondly, give him more breaks. Every time I see him he’s tired and complaining about the amount of paperwork he has to do. I haven’t seen him in person in almost five months because of whatever you seem to be planning. At least a monthly break. You know how he gets when he’s overworked.” This made Hange laugh again and I noticed then how quiet she had been throughout Erwin’s requests. It made me think how intelligent she was as well. All the officers must be. She had her quirks, but she knew when to be serious.

“That… that is something I cannot promise you. I can try my hardest, but when we are as busy as we are now, I cannot let anyone slack off because their family requested it. You must see I have to be fair about it.” I frowned, not liking that answer, but I knew he wasn’t going to change that. I was being more selfish than I could be right now. I even had one more, morbid request to get through. This one was one that I had thought about over the last few months. What if. 

“Lastly, if Levi does die, I want you to tell me directly, Erwin,” I looked up, locking eyes with him to make sure he knew how important this request was, “I won’t believe any random cadet or Garrison soldier who comes to deliver the news and I won’t believe it if I don’t see him come back with the rest. I’ll make up excuses and scenarios. I want you to tell me personally that he’s finally gone and let me go get his things from the HQ. If it comes from you, I know it’s true. It doesn’t have to be in person, a letter would suffice, but I want it directly from you Erwin,” my eyes were pleading for him to accept, “Can you do that?” He looked back at me after thinking for a few moments. 

“Yes, I can do that, Eva. However, a letter can easily be copied and someone can steal my signature. If I do send you something… I’ll send it along with my bolo tie,” He pointed to the green orb on a cord around his neck,  “I can’t assure how quickly the news will come, but you will be the first civilian to know. This request, however, I have no anticipation of needing to do any of this.” I nodded, accepting that answer. We both had equal confidence in Levi’s ability.

“Thank you… Erwin.” I sat up and looked to Hange, waiting for her to say something. She had been leaning more and more forward as I talked through my requests. She wanted to say something, but wouldn’t interrupt her Commander for it. 

“Oh, it is my turn! I only have one request for you and then a ton of questions to ask you! Is that okay? I know you have the kid to take care of. By the way, son? Brother? Who is he?” I held my hands up and shook them ‘no’ when she said son. 

“He’s just a boy I watch because his parents don’t. I take care of him and feed him. He has an older sister, too.” 

“Ah,” Erwin nodded, “Captain Levi also told me you take kids off the street and give them a second chance. Is he one of those children?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“No, he has a home and family. What else has Levi told you about me?” I didn’t know we were just giving out information about each other to people. Hange answered my question again. 

“You own a café where he gets tea. It’s your past caretakers café. You were given it after he died. Uh, what did he say about your character? He said you’re fiercely loyal, which is definitely true, and that you’re very charitable, hence taking care of the kids. He didn’t say it all nicely like that, but I think you can guess how he said it.” 

“He said something to the effect of ‘She has this awful part of her where she puts all her faith in anyone and takes in brats to give them a second chance’, which, I understand why Levi sees that as a bad thing, but I find it nice to be charitable.” It made me laugh for the first time, Erwin trying to mimic Levi’s tone of voice.

“My request!” Hange hit the table, like she just remembered that she had one to give. I wonder how crazy this one was going to be. 

“I’ll try my best, Hange.” 

“My request is that you make him happy,” My heart skipped a little when she said that and she continued after she heard no protest, “We don’t know much about him or the way he thinks, but we do know what he’s been through. The expedition before he met you, his two friends from the Underground were eaten by titans when he wasn’t there to save them. He was getting so temperamental and would blow his lid at anyone just like that when we came back. No one could blame him, he had just lost his friends to titans and he found out that he didn’t even need to. There are a lot of details, but I’ll leave that to Levi. Anyways, we needed to get him out of HQ, so I recommended this café because I think your strawberry turnovers are excellent! After he came here, he started to change. Mellow out as much as Levi could. All the officers started wondering why he’d changed so rapidly and we thought he was sneaking out to go drink himself to death. Then, I saw you at the year-end festival with him. I knew then it was you, and think of the amazing confirmation he gave me when he kept requesting me to go get you after his injury!” I felt tears well up in my eyes for some reason. I remembered how he looked when he walked in: tired from death. I didn’t know it was the death of his friends that made him that way, and here I was trying to tease him over some tea. I was such an idiot. 

“I think you’ve made Captain Levi feel something he’s never felt before. He still acts the same towards us because he has to keep up this façade, but with you, I’m sure he’s completely different. Actually, he has gotten more relaxed around the cadets and makes them run a bit less. Slowly, your impact is breaking into his everyday life. So, my request is that you keep doing that. He’s a broken kid, but he’s found someone to heal him. That’s what he told us you do, isn’t it?” The way Hange was looking at me, I just wanted to cry then. I don’t think anyone’s ever said something like that to me. She’s putting me at such high regard for something that I so desperately want to do for others. It was a confirming moment telling me that I was doing something right. 

“I-I promise, Hange.” Her smile grew bigger and Erwin slowly stood up, signaling her it was time to go. I stood up too, but held my hand up to him.

“Yes?” 

“I have a last, small request for you, Erwin. That little boy, basically as Commander of the Scouts, you’re his hero. He’s starting to have this obsession with them ever since I got him this toy. If you could just talk to him for a bit and tell him about the Scouts? You know, minus the bad things?” He huffed once in laughter and agreed to do it. When I yelled to call Elias down stairs, he almost fell on his face when he tripped on the kitchen door. He looked up at Erwin expectantly. 

“Elias,” I put my hands on his shoulders, pushing him forward, “This is my friend Commander Erwin. He knows how much you like the Scouts and can tell you about it if you want…” I trailed off at the end, but Elias had already ran up to Erwin, looking up at the man three times his size. 

“How big is a titan?!” I smiled as the two blonde haired boys sat.

Hange came over to the counter where I was sitting and hopped up there with me. I didn’t mind and made room for her, staring at the interaction that was happening in front of us. Elias was even showing him the toy I had bought. 

“So… What does Levi think about the kids?” She so badly wanted to prod Levi’s brain and find out how he ticks, but she’d have to do it through me. Now that they knew everything, I’d guess I’d tell her a little bit. 

“Levi bought him that horse. Elias doesn’t know it, but Levi said he wanted an eight year old boy to have what he wanted at that age. He’s only talked to June once I think, but he helped her win over some boys in her class. I don’t think he could tolerate Elias’s questions as much as Erwin is doing right now though.” She nodded.

“When you two have kids of your own, I think he’ll like them a bit better than he does other people’s kids.” I choked on the air and coughed loud enough that both Erwin and Elias stopped their conversation and looked over at us. Hange just waved them off and patted my back. Kids? He hasn’t even kissed me yet. 

“Hange, we’ve only been together for a few months, and for most of them I haven’t even seen him.” She shrugged and gave me her crazy smile again. 

“I don’t know, you two seem pretty compatible. Now, I haven’t seen you interact, but from what I can tell, you like each other enough. I’ve never seen someone hang around Levi as long as you have. Mark my words, you’ll have cute kids. I want to help name one!” I gave her a crazy look, willing her to stop talking about the topic. Imagine if she mentioned it to Levi, how irate he would be with her. I can’t even talk about sleeping in the same bed with him. 

“Hange, we’re not-” Erwin stood up and patted Elias’s head again. Thank gods they were done. I don’t know if I could deal with any more of Hange’s future visions and questions. Is this how Levi feels with me?

“Hange, it’s time for us to get back. We have another meeting soon and Levi’s waiting to reprimand us for coming here when he said not to.” She puffed out air like she wanted to continue our conversation further, but hopped off the counter and walked to the door with Erwin. 

“It was good meeting you, Eva. I’m sure we will have many more of these in the future.” 

“Bye, Eva! Bye, Elias! Don’t worry, Eva, he’ll be home soon! Hold on a bit more!” Hange screamed as she walked out the door behind Erwin. I could still hear her gossiping as they got on their horses and rode off back to HQ. 

“Eva, why did they want to talk to you?” Elias broke the silence as I stared at the door. Home. He’ll be home. Was I home? 

“Elias, can you keep a secret? A super, super top secret that no one else can know?” His eyes widened and he nodded over and over again. 

“Yes, I can. I promise!” I smiled down at him and ruffled his hair a bit more. 

“Even Erwin doesn’t want you to tell this secret to anyone.” That got the boy more excited to know, and I knew it would keep his mouth shut. 

“I promise! Tell me, tell me, tell me!” If Levi had already told two people, I guess I could too. What’s the harm in telling an eight year old boy? 

“Captain Levi and I are together.” He pulled a weird face, sitting down at the table and pulling out his school work. His excitement immediately dropped away.

“That’s it? I thought it was going to be a fun secret, Eva.” This little boy is incredible. The first person I tell, and he could care less.

“You’re the only person in Trost who knows, Elias. It is a fun secret!” I tried to defend my relationship in front of the eight-year-old. I guess he was picky on which Scouts he liked. 

“Eva, can I have some juice please?” I gave him an annoyed look as he completely skipped over the subject. I should’ve told June first and not a little boy who still thinks girls have cooties. 

“No, you can have it after you finish your homework.” He groaned at my payback and shifted back and forth in his chair. I didn’t waiver and decided to ignore his pleas in favor of reading the letter I had been anticipating for months. 

His handwriting was so nice and I wondered even who taught him how to write so well in the first place. My handwriting was awful because the orphanage had a limited budget for pencils and teachers. I could barely read cursive and only used it to sign my name. When I told Levi this is a response to his first letter, he had laughed at me in his reply, but wrote it all in print for me. Even his print was perfect. It made me annoyed, but they were pretty to look at in addition to their contents. They weren’t love letters by any means, but they were nice to receive and imagine what he was doing. 

Dear Mara (This one doesn’t seem to fit your face, but it’s the only one I could think of), 

As you requested in your last letter, for some reason, my daily routine: 

4 AM - I am either up or wake up from an hour or two of sleep to take a shower. The water pressure is the best at this time as no one is taking one.

5 AM - I make myself tea, now, it’s the peppermint you sent me. I thank you for that, but now my tongue can’t stand any other flavor that’s not on par with it. I’ll light a candle and do some light paperwork and plan the morning workout for the cadets, waiting for the sun.

6 AM - The cadets have 30 minutes to get ready in full gear and come to eat breakfast until seven. I eat early, limiting the interactions I have with Hange as she’s loud in the morning. 

7:30 AM - Training starts with a morning run and workout. They might do hand-to-hand after or work on ODM. Whatever I feel like sitting and watching that day, I make them do. On the days when they’re getting really annoying, I’ll make them practice ground maneuvers since it’s hard to kill titans with no trees. Recently, we’ve been starting to go over formations for the mission I can’t tell you about. 

12 PM - We eat lunch, and recently it’s been bad. The food shortage has hurt our stock and I know the Garrison probably laughs at us as they get to eat meat. We ran out of meat last week.

From then on, the cadets have classroom work to do to memorize our signals and formations. I usually do more paperwork and we have officer meetings over and over again until dinner at six. After that, surprise, paperwork again. We went to the capital to get talked over again last week, so that was a break in my routine, but other than that I do paperwork until my eyes hurt, then I’ll go make more tea and take some biscuits from the canteen. Sometimes there are small disputes I have to settle, cadets to discipline, or one-on-one meetings with Erwin. Recently, he’s asked me if I want to create a Special Operations Team with the best Scouts for the next mission and beyond. I’ve been studying and reading over the files of each Scout. Maybe, you can help me form the team if I come across any trouble picking, but it’s not like there are many to choose from. 

I plan to tell Erwin about our relationship soon. During our meetings in the capital, my position is always questioned and threatened by the four heads of the Royal Government. If they find out about any weakness, not that you are weak now that I’ve trained you, they might use that against me. If I tell Erwin about you, he can give you certain protections. Other than him, I have no intention of telling anyone else and it hasn’t seemed to come up in regular conversation. Hange always has something off to the side to say about you, and I suspect she knows something, but she keeps quiet around others. If she doesn’t keep her mouth shut, you might not hear from her again. Perhaps I will tell my Special Ops Team since trust is needed for a team to work, but that won’t be for another few months or even a year.

You asked me if I needed anything and currently, I would like a bit more tea, if possible. I’m limiting myself to three cups a day since my tea leaves are dwindling. I’m struggling without you and your tea, but I know you can’t ship yourself here through the carrier system. I was right about the cuddling… I miss it and it does make it difficult to try and sleep, knowing a much more comfortable option exists. I won���t go on more because I don’t miss your teasing. Hopefully, I will see you in the next month's time, but right now, it seems the Royal Government is about to monitor us. Going back and forth to you might harm you, and I won’t risk that. It’s helped, this feeling of missing you, by the cadets used for refugee security. It’s been reported almost everyday that a light-brown haired woman, no older than 30 with light green eyes leans out a window about a café with a red lettered sign and stares at the Scouts coming in during the sunrise. I knew right away it was you. I hope you’re getting enough sleep and not being irresponsible with the amount of hours you work on the refugee’s bread. 

I must now go to another officer’s meeting in Erwin’s office to discuss something boring. I’d rather be helping you knead dough for a thousand loaves then sit in his office one more time. 

My questions for you: Has the Garrison brought those brats you said to sponsor over yet? Have you decided to open back up the café? Has the girl gotten her apprenticeship? Have you told Jonas that if he touches you one more time while I’m going, I will break his fingers? You said you might cut your hair, is this true? Have you yet? 

Till your next letter and next delivery of twenty grams of peppermint tea, 

Captain Levi

Chapter Eleven →

Chapter Masterlist

xx Everyone say thank you to MAPPA for Levi and Armin’s faces <3

Tuning In Tonight

Present Mic x Reader (NSFW)

(A 10k story because I have no self-control. Here’s a fic about a troubled cafe employee that turns into a Mic fan and later SEX)  

You soaked in the heat of your apartment after enduring the chilly walk back home from work. Wasting no time, you tossed your coat aside and kicked off your shoes before plopping onto the bed. Another week, another paycheck. Today was exceptionally busy at the cafe. Fridays always were, really, but today had put you to the test against quite the cast of characters. But even in the face of screaming kids with careless mothers, business people with absolutely no patience, and teens that didn’t think you were worth making eye contact with, you prevailed. You liked your job, even with the odd rough days. The staff was kind, the pay was fair, and the fact that it was smack-dab in the middle of the city means that it was visited by the occasional hero. Those were the days that filled you with joy, taking you back to the times when you dreamed of having the same career. But some things just weren’t meant to be. Your younger, more passionate self would chide you for accepting this life. For not using every breath in your body to ensure that you would one day become a hero that everyone remembered, but such persistence would only hurt you more in the long run. At least you were still able to find a comfortable living elsewhere. You settled with the cards you were dealt just fine, and yet that’s exactly what bothers you. Is it really okay to just give up and settle this after trying so hard? 'Nope, my mind’s not going anywhere near that rabbit hole today.' You sprang back up, heading to your room with extra pep in your step to undress and prepare a shower. The hot water soothed your tense body and cleared your mess of a mind. There was no room for any negative thoughts on a Friday night, the nights that you always look forward to the most, because it was time for the weekly radio show hosted by the lively pro hero Present Mic.

Your first experience with the show happened months ago, during a day where you were feeling extra exhausted for no particular reason. Turning on your old radio to lift your spirits, you happened to tune in just in time for the voice hero’s live caller segment. ‘Why not?’ you thought to yourself as you dialed the station's number and patiently listened to the rings. “Hey, thanks for calling, my dear listener! Hope you’ve been having a rockin’ day today!” There was something about having such an energetic and carefree voice directed to you that just brightened you up from inside. The conversation didn’t last very long, your sudden shyness being part of the reason why. It ended with you honoring the usual routine of requesting a song before disconnecting. As short as the encounter was, it left a strong impression, and you wanted it to happen again. Just like that, you became a loyal fan of Put Your Hands Up! radio. It was a great way to end work for the week, winding down and getting ready for the weekend as the station played a wide variety of tunes. And every time Mic was ready to take calls, your phone was ready to dial. You talked about whatever came to mind—how work was treating you, discussing his latest accomplishments as a pro hero, sharing silly events the two of you had in life. Whatever you discussed, no matter how mundane the topic, Mic always sounded eager to listen and respond with the boisterous voice he was known for. Even on the nights where you felt especially drained or under the weather, his unwavering enthusiasm never failed to clear the dark clouds over your head. In short, he was a lovable guy. So you relaxed and killed some time with the help of the internet and some phone games until that special hour arrived. You turned to the station and was greeted with the loud intro that took some getting used to. “Yeeeaaaahh! Present Mic here, and thank you for tuning in to Put Your Hands Up! Are they up? Because we’re about to get started!” And so begins the music that you swear is just a playlist of the hero’s personal favorites. You laid back on your bed and let your mind drift as the songs played. Your friends plan on meeting up for a movie tomorrow; can’t miss out on that. Maybe you’ll stop by the store afterwards so you can restock your fridge. What should you do Sunday? Meh, just make it a lazy day and hang around at home, you suppose. You returned to your phone and continued scrolling through your favorite websites. Time went by quicker than expected, Mic’s announcement of taking calls catching you by surprise. The first few calls were picked up by other listeners, doing the usual routine of sharing their day or talking about recent issues. Mic gave advice wherever he could, and his desire to help anyone who was willing to reach out to him felt so damn genuine that it made you smile. Another call was picked up before yours. Oh well. You listened to what ended up being a youthful male on the line. “H-hi, Mr. Present Mic!” The nervous yet excited voice was pretty heartwarming. A young teen, most likely.

Mic laughed. “No need for the ‘mister,’ listener! You’ll make me feel old!”

A bunch of frantic stuttering could be heard from the boy. “Ah, so sorry, sir—I mean mister—I mean Mic!” You giggled along with Mic as the poor boy tried to collect himself. “Deep breaths, little listener. What’s on that speedy little mind tonight?” “Well,” the boy had finally steadied himself. “I’ll be finishing middle school soon, and I’m ready to start training to be a hero. I just really hope I can get into U.A. and meet you! I wish you could be my English teacher!”

Awww. “Shucks, little guy. First, good job on finishing up middle school. I hope your parents have a rockin’ party ready for you! Second, you’ve got guts for aiming for the highest! Make sure you study and prepare, 'cause U.A. only accepts the best!” There was a pause on the other end. “So, is there a chance that I won’t make it?" “My little listener,” you could tell that there was a gentle expression on Mic’s face as he spoke. “There’s always a chance, so I want you to promise me one thing. If that chance hits you, don’t give up on your dream. Get the most out of whichever school accepts you. You know how many amazing heroes I met who came from schools with pretty lame reputations? There’s a lot of them, trust me. I’ve also met my share of cocky young heroes who rag on others just because they don’t have the fancy brand of U.A. or Shiketsu on their resume. That’s all it is, kid. A brand. Just because you couldn’t strike a deal with a major record label doesn’t mean your music career is already dead.” “Music?” the boy said in confusion. “But I’m not talking about mu—oh…metaphor.” Mic chuckled lightly. “There ya go, listener! Your language is doin’ fine. You don’t need me! But if you think you do, you know where to call me for another chat!” “I do!” the boy said happily. “Thank you, Present Mic! I promise I’ll keep doing my best!” You listened to the two talk for a little longer. The boy had some real determination and you admired it. He’ll hopefully reach his dream. You won’t wish ill will on others just because you didn’t reach yours. Giving everything you had and still not being enough was something no one deserved to experience. The boy had requested a rather angsty rock song that was trying really hard to sour your mood, but you’re not going to give the depressing vocalist what he wants. On the next segment, you internally rejoiced when you hear Mic’s voice in your ear. “Hey there, Mic.” “Oh? Is that my favorite lady listener I hear?” You giggled at the flattering question? “Maybe? I didn’t know you had favorites.” “Ah, you’re right! Not very professional of me! Don’t worry, listeners! I swear I love you all equally!” He boomed. It’s moments like this that taught you to keep your phone a fair distance away from your ear when you speak to the great voice hero himself. “So how’s the cafe treating you?” After so many talks, Mic had learned a few personal details about you, including your job and the area you worked in. He’s commented on how humble your life sounds; you didn’t disagree. “It’s been the same. Nothing new.” Your plan was to share one of your experiences with the more unruly customers today, but something else was weighing on your mind now. “Come on, girl. You’ve gotta have something spicy to share with us, don’t ya?” “Actually,” the last call was really sticking to you for some reason, you couldn’t help but let it slip out. “I want to say that what you told that boy was very sweet. And I was wondering…” Your voice caught in your throat. “I was wondering…” ‘Is it okay to give up?’ You didn’t want to say that. ‘What if you sacrifice everything you have, but still fail?’ You don’t tune in to be a downer. ‘Did you know that I was like that boy once?’ You talk to Present Mic to feel good. “Wondering what? You still with me, listener?” Mic asked. The concern in his voice urged you to spit something out already. “I was wondering exactly which pro heroes you knew personally. You said that you’ve met a lot,” you lied. You weren’t wondering that at all. Still, you won’t mind hearing his answer. “Ha! Where do I even start? Now’s the perfect time for some free promotion for the awesome heroes out there that deserve some sweet limelight! Let me start with a cool guy named Koi. He’s pretty new to the scene and works on the coast.” He went on and on about many lesser known heroes you weren’t familiar with at all, but that made the information all the more intriguing. He spoke highly of each person, listing their accomplishments and how hard they worked to get where they are. As always, he managed to perk you back up. You made a mental note to look up these heroes later. “Whoa whoa, record scratch, guys! The lady’s got me rambling for way too long. Trying to soak up all the time, are ya?” He sneered in the most light-hearted way. You laughed innocently. “Of course not! You were being so passionate about every hero that you mentioned, I didn’t have it in me to stop you.” “Well, I’ll forgive you just this once! You know how to end it. Hit me with that request!” The rest of the broadcast carried on through the night as a drowsiness began to creep on you. You listened to the last of the songs while getting cozy under your sheets. “Time to finally put those hands down! It’s been a blast, listeners! I hope you’re ready to rock with me next time! Good night!” You switched off the radio and finally allowed yourself to drift off. ‘Good night.’ ——— The weekend had flown by. Before you knew it, it was back to business at the cafe. You were always thankful for not being part of the morning shift on Mondays, your co-workers sharing horror stories of the tired and moody zombies demanding complicated orders as quickly as possible. Your shift started at noon. The day was going by smoothly, no wrenches thrown into your usual pattern. Small talk with the customers, impressing the regulars by guessing their orders correctly, practicing your latte art, it was a meditative cycle for you. By the time the sun was down with no recent customers, you were ready to start cleaning up. The place closes in less than twenty minutes and the rest of the staff was sitting around patiently. A ring at the door alerted you all to the sight of a man briskly walking in, gripping at his overcoat as he recovered from the cold outdoors. “Welcome sir,” you greeted while heading to your position behind the counter. The other workers gave their own welcome and followed suit. “Hey!” He said loudly. “Didn’t mean to barge in like that. It’s cold enough tonight without all of this wind.” The voice made you pause. The man approaching you had blonde hair pinned up into a messy bun, some stray locks hanging freely. He adjusted his glasses as he flashed you a smile. That voice…and paired with his appearance…there was no doubt about it. 'Present Mic?' “Heh, looks like I’ve been exposed already!” Mic said with a chuckle. You placed a hand over your mouth, not realizing you had said his name out loud. “Sorry, it’s just really nice to meet you in person. I’m a fan.” You thought you saw him pause as well, eyes widening for a brief moment before asking, “Are you, now? And have we talked before, dear fan?” His voice was calmer than what you were used to hearing on his show. “We have, on the radio. Quite a few times, actually,” you admitted. And with that, his smile was enhanced to blinding levels. “My favorite lady listener! I thought I recognized that sweet voice!” Mic didn’t seem to respond to your blush and kept going. “I remember you said that you worked around here, but I sure didn’t expect to bump into you!” “Well, fate’s treating us both well tonight. I can’t properly express how excited I am to meet you while on the job. What can I get you tonight?” You hid behind your professionalism and waited for his order. Mic rubbed at his chin and pondered. “Well, I’ve been convinced by word-of-mouth that you guys have some yummy pastries. What do you think will go well with some hot cocoa?” Fortunately, the cafe’s menu was practically branded into your mind, so even the presence of a pro hero isn’t enough to make you draw a blank. “I’d personally recommend one of our warm treats. Maybe you’d like to try our filled croissants? The strawberry one is my favorite.” “Mmm, sounds delish. I trust you,” His grins were seriously trying to make you melt. “Hit me up with a cocoa and a strawberry croissant for here!” After taking his order, Mic seated himself at a table to wait for his sugary meal. As you prepared his chocolate and croissant, you couldn’t resist stealing an occasional glance at him. He was studying the cute decorations that littered the place and gently bobbing his head to the indie music playing through the speakers, but the two of you happened to lock eyes once, forcing you to immediately look away. Whenever you saw him in the media, his eyes were usually obscured by the orange shades that went with his hero outfit. Now you realize just how green they are, almost as if they glowed. It didn’t take long to prepare his order, and you decided to grant him the special treatment of delivering the food to his table. There was no one else to serve, after all. “Hey,” he said. “Would you mind sitting down with me?” Your heart fluttered. “Not at all, Mic.” You pulled back the chair opposite to him and took a seat. “Call me Hizashi.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Present Mic is always too busy for a snack break.”   “Of course, Hizashi.” You listened to Hizashi’s compliments on the food and drink, trying not to stare as he ate. You were always so sure that he couldn’t possibly be as loud and lively as his hero persona, and you were mostly right, but even now as he dined at a simple cafe, he still somehow radiated a cheerful and positive energy. The warm feeling you got from hearing him on the radio was dwarfed by what you currently feel now that you are seeing him in person. He had eaten the last of the flaky bread before speaking again. “You know, now that you’re right here in the flesh, I gotta ask you something that’s been bothering me since my last show.” Lime green eyes peered into yours as he idly stirred the cup of chocolate. “Were you alright that night? You sounded…conflicted when we were talking.” A lump caught in your throat. You didn’t expect something like that to stick with him. Surely he had more important matters to worry about. “Don’t worry about it,” you answered. “I just had silly things crossing my mind at the moment.” Hizashi took a sip, his eyes not leaving you. “Alright, I don’t wanna pry. I know you’re a grown woman, but I do like helping people. It’s my favorite part of all three of my jobs.” His smile never faded since he walked in here and man, you weren’t used to him looking or sounding so soft. You sat there silently, fighting internally as you tried to decide whether or not to confess. The pro hero waited, drinking and showing no signs of impatience. Your hands gripped at your apron as you took a breath. “I wanted to be a hero.” The only sort of reaction you noticed were his raising eyebrows. “Ah,” he murmured. “Do you still want to be a hero?” A beat of silence. “…No.” Hizashi watched, probably waiting for you to say more, but you still didn’t know how much you wanted to share. “Does that bother you?” He asked. You nodded. “I’d like to hear why, listener.” Hearing the term you were so used to on his show lifted some of the pressure. Ironically, he was probably the best listener out of anyone that tuned in. You straightened your posture and swallowed. “Then I should probably start from the beginning.” And so you let it all spill. How you once had the same glorious dream as so many other children. You explained all of the time and effort you put into the tests and exams, but it was never enough, and your quirk always failed to impress spectators. You had family and friends that supported you for so long, had sacrificed so much to make this happen, but when you realized that your pursuit was leading you to homelessness, you accepted defeat. Hizashi paid close attention, only making a small comment here and there, but he waited for you to finish to say anything more. “I’m sorry you couldn’t get there,” he said sympathetically. “It’s fine.” You were looking down at your lap, unable to hold his gaze throughout most of the story. “I recovered pretty well. It’s nice here.” He hummed and leaned back in his seat. “That’s good! Not everyone can bounce back from that. Sounds like it’s still bothering you, though. Are you sure you don’t want to try again? I’m more than happy to help you out.” You shook your head at the generous offer. This man was too kind. “Thanks, but that’s alright. I’m happy where I am, it’s just that…” You paused as you tried to form the frustration you’ve felt for years into words. “I had put my whole life into this, gave up everything I had, and…and I don’t have anything to show for it, you know? Feels like the biggest waste.” “Yeah, maybe it was.” His blunt admittance surprised you. “But when you realized you weren’t getting anywhere, you stopped before you hit rock bottom. I know some students of mine who wouldn’t have that self-control.” He gave a soft snort at the thought. “Hell, when everyday is such a painful climb, you forget if there’s even anything waiting for you at the top. Maybe you would’ve reached the peak just to finally keel over.”  You nodded along with his feedback. It wasn’t anything new; you’ve comforted yourself with similar words, albeit with less metaphors. And yet, your pesky mind couldn’t accept such logic. “But people don’t like quitters.” Hizashi kept going, arms crossed and staring intensely at his empty plate. “Because quitting apparently means that you’re weak, not that you were smart enough to see that you’re just hurting yourself at a certain point. Man, you know how many people wouldn’t be stuck doing stuff that they hate if this mindset didn’t exist? I know a guy who finally won the heart of the heroine of his dreams, and I was like, ‘Awesome, dude!’” You watched with mild amusement as Hizashi’s volume was slowly rising along with his increasingly animated movements. “But surprise! Turns out that she makes for the world’s worst girlfriend! The poor guy is in his own little hell, but he’s wanted this gal for soooo long and he’s still soooo sure that they’re fated to be together. If I used my quirk to scream at the guy to break it off already, he’d still manage to ignore me!” A snicker nearby caught both of your attentions, turning to see the other staff members looking very entertained by his storytelling. Hizashi coughed out of awkwardness and shuffled in his seat. “You, uh, you get what I’m saying?” His voice returned to a calm tone. “Yeah, I get it,” You replied. “I never considered all of that. Sucks for your friend, but I understand the feeling. It must be frustrating to watch from the outside, too.” “Oh yeah, it is.” He sighed and rested his face in one of his hands. “I know they say that you can’t save people that don’t want to be saved, but it’s not gonna keep me from trying. Good to know that you climbed out of that hole yourself. Well, almost.” He finished off the now-lukewarm chocolate. “Your dream died, so handle it like any other death. Mourn and move on. Dwelling on it or thinking about everything you could have done differently is irrational.” You heard him mutter something under his breath, something about someone rubbing off on him too much. The gears turn in your head. Your eyes wonder to a small stain on the table as Hizashi’s advice breaks through your somber barrier. Mourn and move on.

“I’ll try,” You’re shocked by how dry your throat suddenly is. The sound of sweeping and chairs scraping across the floor makes you snap your head to the clock. It was past closing time! “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” You didn’t even know if you were apologizing to Hizashi or your co-workers. “I lost track of time! Let me get that for you.” You took his trash before he could respond and quickly joined the others to clean up. “Sorry about that,” one of your friends said. “I guess we all got caught up in your cute little talk.” “Do you have to eavesdrop on every table in this place?” You asked with no real malice. Pretty much the whole staff has a fondness for gossip; perhaps it was just a side effect of working such a job. “Oh, you know me. Why do you even ask?” she laughed. You focused on cleaning the tables as Hizashi stood and straightened out his clothes. You hoped that he wouldn’t leave just yet. His pep talk was appreciated and you wanted to thank him properly before your bus got here. Your bus that was scheduled to arrive ten minutes ago. 'Oh shit!' “My bus! I have to—dammit! I gotta go!” You dashed into the back to gather your belongings and grab your bag. Hizashi and the others looked too stunned by your burst of speed as you exited the cafe and rushed to the bus stop, the biting cold having little effect on your adrenaline-filled body. 'Maybe the bus is late too. Maybe I can still make it.' Your sprint slowed down the moment you saw your ride home already speeding away. It was too late to catch up. You could only watch as the large vehicle drove out of sight, dropping onto the stop’s bench as you caught your breath. Wonderful. This is what you get for getting too comfortable with one of your customers, hero or not. “Hey!” Speak of the devil. You turned to the sight of Hizashi jogging around the corner and toward you. “Man, you move pretty fast.” He caught up to you and took in your tired and defeated form. “And by the looks of it, you still weren’t fast enough.” A loud groan escaped you. “It’s no big deal, really. Another one arrives in about thirty minutes.” “Ah, think you can wait that long in this cold?” A shiver ran through your body immediately after his question. Wow, it really was freezing tonight. You shrugged your shaking shoulders. “I’ll have to. It’s still better than walking.” “Or maybe I can take you home?” Your head snaps back to him. Did you hear that right? “You…you want to take me home?” You repeated. That radiant smile returns to his face and adds another wave of trembles to your body. “I help where I can, and I’m kinda the reason you missed it in the first place. It’s the least I can do for such a loyal listener.” You hesitate, your still-harsh breaths forming misty clouds. You trusted him, no doubt about that. No, what was making you hesitate were his tender expressions that were illuminated by the nearby streetlight, and his lax and inviting posture as he waited for your answer with his hands tucked in his coat, and the realization that Yamada Hizashi was pretty damn handsome.   Pure hot red was rushing up to your face. Surely that was the cold’s fault. “That sounds great,” you uttered before you could even stop yourself. “Alright! Come on, then. I’m totally not dressed to be standing out here for long.” You followed him back to the cafe where an old-fashioned Ford mustang was parked. ‘Classy.'  Your co-workers were watching you enter his car, some with smirks or giving you a thumbs-up. ‘Perverts. It’s not like that.’ At least, you didn’t think it was. The drive home was calming. The radio played lowly as background music while you gave him directions to your apartment. You kept sneaking a peek at him from the corner of your vision, a peaceful look on his face as his fingers tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. He seemed to be the type that hated complete silence; you didn’t mind. The streets were fairly empty, so it didn’t take too long to reach your complex. Hizashi pulled up and parked. “Welp, here’s your stop!” He announced as he hit you with another knockout smile. “Thanks for taking the Present Mic Express, listener.” You removed your seat belt, but made no further movements. “Thank you, Hizashi. For the ride…and the talk. You’ve helped me a lot today.” You say as you dare to look into his hypnotizing irises. He shrugged at your gratitude. “I’m just a customer who was in need of a nighttime snack and met a special gal that turned out to be even greater in person.” It took everything in your power not to cover your face like a flustered schoolgirl, instead breaking eye contact as you felt the heat return to your cheeks. “Thanks, you’re pretty great too.” You shuffled a bit as you both sat in silence. “I’m leaving now.”

“Okay.” You stayed where you were, staring at the door handle like it was the last thing you might ever touch. “I can’t wait to talk to you again on your show.” “Ditto.” “Alright…I’m leaving now.” “You already said that.” You squirmed some more. ‘Come on, you probably just look creepy at this point. Hurry the hell up and say something.’ “Is there something else you wanna tell me?” There was a small hint of amusement in his voice, and you gathered the courage to look at him again, shocked to see that his friendly smile had shifted into something a little more smug. It was probably safe to say that he’s reading the atmosphere pretty well. ‘Then just go for it.’

“Do you…do you want to come inside me—” FUCK. “Come inside with me! Do you want to come inside with me?!”  You were practically shouting the invitation in a feeble attempt to hide your slip-up. Hizashi threw his head back and cackled. “I’d love to, sweetheart! No need to be shy about it. I don’t bite.” You still sat there as the car turned off, his casual acceptance putting you into a stupor. Which version of the question was he even saying yes to? Whichever one it was, he had just accepted your offer to sleep together. You hadn’t been with anyone in years, and now you suddenly do this? A rush of cold wind hit you when he opened his door. “Come on, unless you planned on doing it in the car?” He laughed when you furiously shook your head.  “Good. As much as I love my old girl, she’s probably not very comfortable for something like that.” You only shivered in response as you finally stepped out of his car and joined his side to guide him to your place. All it took was an elevator and a quick walk down the hall to reach your door. It was a little embarrassing to bring a pro hero into your small single-bedroom apartment. It had all of the essentials for a comfortable living, but there wasn’t much room for luxuries. You both kicked off your shoes at the entrance before you hurried to organize some stray clothes and bags. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests.” “No worries,” Hizashi didn’t seem to mind as he got comfortable on a chair near your kitchen area and scanned the place. “This is nice.” You snorted at the comment. “I suppose,” you murmured. “It’s nothing worth praising.” “What, finding a place to stay after running yourself down for years? I think that deserves some praise,” he says so matter-of-factually.  That was a really admirable way to put it. “Thank you.” “Mmhmm,” he hummed, watching you finish replacing your things. Now you’re just standing here, not sure what to do next. How do you even start this? Your only experience was a clumsy one with a friend way back. “Well, we can’t do much at this distance, can we?” He says lightly as he gestures you to come closer. You comply and take his offered hand, letting him gently tug you down and onto his lap. He positioned you sideways, your legs laid out over his and making you look and feel like a nervous child. His face was so close, those green eyes looking shinier than ever. “You’ve done this before, right?” His warm breath brushes against your face as he speaks. “Yeah, I have,” you paused and wondered if you should tell him more. Hizashi was getting to know you more than you ever intended. “With a friend some years ago…it was a mess. Two virgins that had no idea what they were doing.” You laughed at the memory. “Heh, I feel you on that one. My first wasn’t the most dignified moment either.” You felt his body shake with his chuckle. His hand was still holding yours, thumb pressing against the space between your knuckles in a sort of massage. The feeling soothed you as his free hand came up to remove his glasses, your body shifting with his as he set them down close by. “In fact, your boy used to be a one pump wonder!” He smiled at your bewildered reaction to the information. “Hey, it’s not my fault sex feels so awesome!” You giggled into his shoulder. He spoke to you with such familiarity that it was impossible to stay anxious. It was why you enjoyed talking to him on the radio, but you never imagined it being the same during a scenario as intimate as this. “Hey, Don’t laugh at me! I’ve gotten better!” He said in mock anger. “And lucky for you, you get to see just how much. Welcome to my private show, listener.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that was more comical than seductive. A hand gently held the back of your head, and you let it pull you in to press your lips against his. You closed your eyes and savored the feeling, his lips softer than expected. Your kisses were timid, giving little more than lingering pecks, and Hizashi patiently returned them, slowly adding more pressure and passion as encouragement. The feel of a tongue swiping against your lips made you squeak in shock, getting a chuckle out of him. “That was adorable,” he teased, his voice suddenly at a lower pitch that made you shudder. “You startled me,” you retorted before returning to the kiss, this time with your lips parted to grant him entry. He caught you off guard again by sucking lightly at your lips instead, forcing a gasp out of you before slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your own muscle shyly met his, stroking each other in a lazy dance. His hands moved to hold your face and he’s doing it so tenderly. A hot desire is flowing through your veins from his kisses alone; you can only imagine what else he has in store for you. After a few more wet smacks, the two of you finally parted to catch your breaths, you especially. “Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. Hizashi gave a breathless laugh. “Getting overwhelmed already? We haven’t even taken any clothes off yet.” He wasn’t as composed as he let on, a red flush spreading across his face. The hands holding your face moved down to wrap around your waist as he moved his kisses down to your jaw. You sighed and tilted your head back to give him access to your neck, burying your fingers in his hair as you felt him lick and suck at your pulse. Beneath the smooth locks you felt a pin that held his sloppy bun together. “Hizashi? Can I-ah,” a hard suck on your sensitive throat forces you to pause. “Can I…your hair?” You tapped at the pin to get your point across. “Go ahead,” he groaned against your neck, not even slowing his assault as you pulled the small clip out and watched his golden locks fall to his shoulders. He purred to the feeling of you combing through his hair like fine threads. “It’s really pretty,” you whispered, still shivering from the love that he was showering on your skin. He pulls away from your neck. “Are you saying my hair isn’t always pretty? Trying to hurt Mic’s feelings?” He said with a pout. He looked all the hotter with his long hair draping the sides of his face. “Not at all! I think Mic makes for a handsome cockatoo,” you jest with a smirk. “Heh, you got jokes, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing once I get these annoying clothes out of the way.” He double tapped your thigh. “Up.” You stood up and watched him follow instantly, noticing the bulge that was beginning to grow beneath his pants. You quickly tore your eyes away from it. “Hold on a minute, I know what we’re missing.” He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his phone. You waited, wondering what he could possibly need on his phone right now. A few taps later, a smooth melody began playing from the device. “Oh yeah, I’m feelin’ it already.” He set the phone down and shut his eyes, getting a feel for the beat of the sensual R&B song. This man was unreal. “You have…a lovemaking playlist?” You uttered while watching him get into a groove. “I’ve got a playlist for a lot of things, baby. Nothing sets the mood like a good tune. Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll go first.” And so he began his slow movements, swaying and bouncing in rhythm to the music, pulling his coat back and shrugging it off in a steady and seductive manner, tossing it aside. Watching a personal strip show of one of your favorite heroes was both hilarious and hot. On one hand, he was giving you playful and goofy faces while lip-singing to the sensual vocals. On the other, ‘I’ll be damned,’ you thought, because he really did know how to move his body and was successfully captivating you. His hips were moving in slow circles as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and revealing his impressively lean torso. ‘Oh, his hero outfit doesn’t do his body justice.’ You were so impressed by the chest and the abs that were just thick enough to be visible, you didn’t notice him struggling to pull the shirt off of his head. With his top completely bare, he smoothed a hand down his hair and leered at you with a slow lick over his lip. “Liking what you see, baby?” How the hell did his voice get so deep? Why was he being so sexy right now? Your throat was dry all of a sudden, so you simply nodded. “Good.” His hands ran over his chest, making sure you were watching them before they began an agonizingly slow descent, tracing over hard lines, his muscles rippling with the mesmerizing thrust of his hips, a sight so erotic that you wanted to look away, but just couldn’t. With the buttons and zipper quickly undone, his thumbs hooked beneath his pants and began to pull down and oh shit he was pulling at his boxers too. You were really about to see it and you didn’t know if you were ready, but your eyes remained glued to his waist as his masculine v-line and a neat trail of blonde curls was revealed, your breathing getting heavier with the knowledge that he was only centimeters away from revealing his… “Naaaah, I’ll leave these on for now.” Just like that, his voice returned to his loud and cheerful pitch, pants readjusted and no longer on the brink of revealing his manhood. Confused, you look back up to see an infuriatingly innocent face staring back at you. A pang of disappointment hits you hard; Hizashi had just teased you big time. “Your turn.” You stood there awkwardly, having no idea where to even start. “I…uh…” You try to get into rhythm with the song and already feel like a fool. “I’m not much of a dancer. Can I just undress?” You felt a little bad. You didn’t want to kill the mood just because you didn’t know how to be as light and silly as him. Hizashi casually approached in all of his topless glory. “Don’t stress, girl. The stage and spotlight ain’t for everyone,” he empathized. Slender fingers took hold of the bottom of your shirt, and he looked into your eyes for silent permission. You gave a slow nod of approval and lifted your arms so that he could smoothly remove your first article of clothing. He discarded the shirt quickly to lay his hands on your bare waist, tracing over your soft and sensitive skin, making you jump slightly. “That tickles,” you snickered. “Sorry, sorry.” His hands went higher until they reached your bra, fumbling with the clasp at your back. “Mind helping me out? I still haven’t mastered these contraptions,” he asked through gritted teeth. The fully concentrated face for removing an undergarment was a real hoot, but you showed mercy and joined his hands to undo the fastening and pulled the straps down your arms. With how hard he was staring at your exposed breasts, it took everything in your power not to cover yourself, keeping your arms at your sides. “Damn. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He spoke softly, giving feather-light touches over the mounds of flesh. “Can’t believe you’re giving me the honor of seeing you like this.” You warmed over at the praise and his touch, a thumb brushing lightly over your nipple. “You…look really good too,” you complimented back, your own hands coming up as you considered exploring his body. Hizashi noticed your hesitation and took a hold of your wrists. “You can check me out with more than your eyes, babe,” he says with a wink, and then places your hands right onto his hot and hard chest. ‘Woah.’ You swear that your heart stopped for several seconds. Hands slightly trembling, you run them slowly over his firm pecs, listening to his quickening breaths as you went lower to feel his abs. Present Mic was never really on your list of sexy heroes. You never bothered to imagined what the rowdy guy looked like underneath that superstar getup. ‘Shame on me, I suppose.’ The hero quietly reveled in your touch as he returned to your breasts, kneading them gently to bring out soft moans from you. There was something extra close and affectionate about just feeling each other, hands caressing and pressing every inch of both of your bodies. Your first time wasn’t this slow and steady; you and your partner were too embarrassed by so much clumsy fumbling that you ended up rushing to the main act. An arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer, a pair of lips speaking right next to your ear. “To the bed.” The song currently playing had a much more raunchy vibe to it, matching the growing intensity of the room as Hizashi gently pushed you back onto the mattress so that he could peer down and take in your body from above. You felt even more vulnerable in this position, but the man’s gaze, although lustful, was still gentle and nothing to be afraid of. You had enough courage to take his face and bring him down for another kiss, lips moving more boldly this time. Hizashi smiled behind the kiss, but had other plans and trailed downward, picking up where he left off during the first make-out. He licked a wet trail across your neck, wasting no time in reaching your breasts and peppering one with kisses, the slightly ticklish sensation filling you with pleasurable tingles. Too modest to watch him shower your body with love, you instead closed your eyes and focused on the feeling as the naughty music played on. The wetness of a tongue was flicking across your nipple, making your breath hitch, but it was the complete engulfment of wet heat that made your eyes fly open to the sight of him hungrily sucking at you like he was being nursed. You could still feel his tongue swirling around your nipple in the wet cavern of his mouth. It felt so good, bringing forth an ache within your lower body. “Ah, Hizashi…more…” Your plea came out as a shuddering moan. “Patience, babe,” he panted before switching to your other breast and giving it the same delicious treatment. Soon he continued his trek downwards, kissing at your stomach and playfully dipping his tongue into your navel. “Alright, time for these pants to go.” You lifted your hips to help him pull them off, nervous but so desperate to feel him touch you more. Surprisingly, he left your panties on and placed his lips right on your hipbone, making you twitch. The kisses wandered to your thighs, taking his time in enjoying the texture of your flesh as he licked, sucked, and gave the occasional nip to make you jump. You can feel the hot desire in your core building up as he got closer to your mound, your insides throbbing in anticipation, ready to be probed and explored already. Finally his face was right at your clothed pussy, a sinful grin forming as he observed the very damp spot. You were ready for him to finally remove the last barrier that prevented your bodies from joining. What you weren’t ready for was the shock of his tongue pressing against the thin cotton and licking at you like it wasn’t even there. Even with the shaky gasp that escaped you, you felt mortified. “H-Hizashi? What are—that’s—ohhh.” His lips managed to close right around your protected clit, the feeling muted but still powerful, but this was all so new to you. It’s one thing to fantasize having someone put their mouth there, but to actually…! Hizashi halted his ministrations and looked up at you. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?” The panic in your breathless voice probably worried him a bit. You didn’t want him to think that he screwed up, it’s just that…ugh, you didn’t even know! “I, uh, you don’t have to do that, really,” you stammered. The pure confusion on his face was unexpected. “What? Go down on you? I love doin’ that, babe. You don’t?”

You were tempted to grab a pillow and hide your face. “I…don’t know. No one’s ever done that to me.” “Oh?”  He tilted his head, resting on one of your thighs as he watched you curiously. “Well this guy would love to do it to you. May I?” ‘Yes. Yes, please do it.’ You just couldn’t be as shameless as your inner thoughts, so the most you could do was squeak, “If you want.” Hizashi rubbed soothing circles around your inner thighs. “I’ll just give you a sample, alright? You just lie back and feel it. Actually…” He raised himself and took a hold of your hips, tugging you to the edge of the bed. He was now kneeling on the floor with your legs hanging over his shoulders. Even with your panties still on, you never felt more exposed. His mouth was back on you in an instant, licking long stripes up your covered womanhood. You could feel your heated lust, could feel your juices seeping out to mix with the saliva that was coating your ravaged underwear. But it didn’t look like Hizashi planned on letting up on his assault anytime soon, pressing his face against you as if he was craving your nectar from the source, but insisted on holding himself back. As you whimpered from the wet grazes and your growing arousal, you realized that this just wasn’t going to be enough. “Please,” you whined. “I need more.” “More?” The hero’s voice was husky, and the wicked look he was giving you wasn’t helping matters at all. “What do you want more of?” Your knuckles were turning white from how hard you were clutching the sheets beneath you. “You! Your mouth! Please, take them off!” “You like what my mouth does, baby?” He gave you a quick lick. “Yes.” “You wanna feel more of it?” “Yes, please!” You begged. “Wanna feel my tongue push inside your pussy?” The sudden vulgarity of his words made you clench. “Y-yes.” A finger runs up and down your slit, the cloth’s texture doing nothing but irritating you at this point. “Good, because your taste and smell is driving me wild.” His fingers hooked around the lace and, thank the gods above, finally pulled them off, sticky strands of your arousal being pulled along with it. Repositioning himself, he used his thumbs to spread you open and take a good look at you. ‘Oh God, that’s a bit much.’  You shut your eyes to avoid his invasive ones that were looking straight inside of you. Just before he dove in, a new track began to play. “Oooooh shit, I love this song!” You looked to see Hizashi on the verge of jumping up in excitement. After being so turned on, you managed to forget that he’s a dork. “They’re just asking me to go all-out on you, aren’t they? Get ready, sweetheart. I’m about to send you to heaven.” Your breathing quickened as he leaned in, suddenly understanding that his teasing was just to make you extra sensitive to the real deal, because his breath alone was sending pleasant shocks through you. The first long lick up your sex already had you moaning loudly. A pair of hands held your hips down to prevent you from bucking too wildly, thighs quivering on his shoulders as he hungrily lapped at you. Among the indecent sounds between your legs, you also noticed the song’s lyrics were describing the very act Hizashi was performing right now, his mouth working more vigorously whenever the singer expressed the desire to lick a girl, to make her cum all week. He was avoiding your clit, giving full attention to your sopping folds, sucking on them loudly before deciding to plunge his tongue straight inside of your pussy. The intruding muscle had you squirming against his hold, rubbing against your walls and pushing into you as far as possible. You noticed that Hizashi’s eyes were closed in bliss, giving soft moans as if this was bringing him just as much pleasure. Whatever the case, the sight of him enjoying himself so much was something you’ll be seeing in your erotic dreams for weeks, maybe months to come. You lost control of the sounds leaving your body as the pleasing heat grew, tongue thrusting in and out of your body, his nose pressing against your neglected clit. The thorough tongue-fucking was bringing you so close to the edge. Hizashi released a long and deep moan and…you don’t even understand what happened next. The sound sent the mother of all vibrations bouncing throughout your insides, forcing you into a violent convulsion of an orgasm. You didn’t hear your own scream, the music, or see Hizashi’s amazed expression when you tightened your legs around his head in a vice-like grip. Everything was suddenly muted save for the tremors wracking your entire being without mercy, pleasure pouring over you so strongly that it was frightening. Your surroundings slowly took shape again as you came down from your high, panting and waiting for your limbs to become responsive again. A hand brushed stray hairs away from your face, and you saw a very pleased hero laying beside you. “You alright, baby? You know where you are?” He asked jokingly. “Yeah,” you breathed. “How many fingers am I holding up?” “Shut up.” You swung your weak arm and smacked him in the chest. “What the hell did you do to me?” “Sometimes I use my quirk to add a little kick,” he explained while rolling onto his side, giving your damp face a quick peck. “All it takes is a bass boost to soak the dancefloor, am I right? Though maybe that was too much. I didn’t know whether to be turned on or scared with the way you were spazzing out. Hope your neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered.” You shrunk into yourself. “Oh. Sorry,” you mumbled. You watched his hand casually explore your sensitive skin, catching a glimpse of the bulge in his pants that was more prominent than ever. “Your…” You gestured to his groin. He looked down at his stiff predicament and huffed. “Ah, yeah. It’s kinda been killin’ me. You good to keep going, babe?” How could you possibly say no after the ride he’s given you? “Yes, of course.” You moved to get up, but he gently pushes down on you. “Stay right here. I just need a minute.” The bed shifts with the loss of his weight and you watch him grab his discarded coat, fishing for something in its pockets and mumbling about something that he always keeps around, until you hear a little “a-ha” as he triumphantly holds up a condom. “Safety first~,” he says in a sing-song voice. Wow, he’s a prepared guy. Disobeying his orders, you raised yourself to sit upright. “Can I do the honors?” You asked. Honestly, you were just curious to see what he had in store for you down there. Hizashi looked surprised but pleased. “Be my guest!” he said excitedly, removing the wrapper while approaching you. The tent in his pants just sat there in front of you, begging to finally be released. “So, do you want me to finish my little show, or do you want to be the one to take’em off?” He watched your face intently as he thumbed at the band of his pants. You gulped loudly. He clearly wanted this night to be all about you, but he deserved some attention. “I’ll do it.” You whispered, taking a delicate hold of his pants to pull them down and revealing an intricately designed pair of boxers. Colorful urban-style shapes and characters covered the underwear, art that you would expect to see on the city’s walls. Any other time, you would take a moment to appreciate the impressive work, but you had a horny man to take care of. With a shaky tug, his final clothing was removed and the freed erection sprang out and smacked you in the face. The horrified ‘eep!’ and the utterly offended look you were giving his cock had Hizashi cracking up. “Shit, I’m sorry, babe!” He choked between breaths. “I guess I should have given you a heads up!” You were too embarrassed to even respond or look him in the eye. “Hey now, I promise he won’t hurt you again.” He gave you a pat on a head like a grumpy child and held out the condom to you. You silently took it and observed his manhood with a cautious look, as if it would somehow lash out and strike you again. He was pretty long; while his girth didn’t look too intimidating, you doubt that he can fit all of his length into you. It twitched when your fingers wrapped around it, rubbing up and down the soft yet firm organ and earning some sharp breaths from Hizashi. You finally attempted working with the music, stroking to match the same slow tempo. You took the lubricated protection and placed it over his swollen head, your other hand keeping up your rhythmic pumping as you pulled it down, stroking every uncovered inch until he was fully sheathed. “Fuck, girl. That was sexy,” Hizashi had watched your performance with lustful wonder. “You really don’t give yourself enough credit.” The praise excited you in more ways than one. His hands were on your shoulders and pushing you back down with him climbing on top, returning you both to your earlier positions. One hand reached between your legs and slipped a finger between your folds, dipping inside to sample your wetness. “Are you ready for me, baby?” His voice returned to that low raspy tone that had you throbbing for him all over again. Your nodding was so frantic that you made him laugh at your eagerness—your want has overpowered your doubts. He takes hold of himself and places the tip right at your entrance, your heart racing in anticipation to be filled. A sudden kiss distracts you. It was the deepest kiss he’s given you, lips practically holding yours prisoner while his tongue curled around yours. Breathy moans left both of your mouths. You were being effectively distracted until you felt the sharp burn of being stretched, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck while he pushed inside as slowly as he could. He drank up your whimpers and you consumed his growls of restraint. Every inch felt like it went on forever, hot and pulsing and overwhelming, yet your greedy pussy clamped down and sucked him in until you were completely filled. Hizashi stayed there, finally detaching his lips so that he could study your face. Those green eyes that enchanted you at the cafe for their warmth and kindness were now glazed over with something raw and insatiable. Such a look made you tighten around him, savoring the groan he gave in response. Your legs wrapped around his waist as the signal to start moving, and he complied with a slow and shallow pace. The friction was already creating another burning knot in your core. The other time someone was inside you like this…there was pleasure then as well, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to a partner who knew how to properly prepare your body and keep your mind at ease. Hizashi’s hair was draped all around you, creating a romantic enclosure of just him and you, everything else in the room feeling so far away. His thrusts were getting stronger, your heat and tightness making it too difficult for him to keep things slow. You didn’t protest and took every electrifying stroke with a helpless cry. Even with all of the sounds you were making, you dare say that the man above you was being even louder. “Ah…fuck…oh, baby you feel so fucking good. Oh yeah, fucking squeeze me just like that,” his language also became a lot more colorful, apparently. Concerning volume aside, his words only added to your pleasure. Your heels dug into him, pushing him deeper inside and brushing against that spongy bundle of nerves that had you writhing. “Shit, thanks sweetheart. Been lookin’ for that spot.” He pants with a mischievous smile across his sweaty face. With a particularly hard slam that makes you see white, he slows down and starts a deep grind. “Ah! Hizashi!” You weren’t prepared for such powerful stimulation, his dick hitting your sweet spot while his pelvis rolls against your clit. He elevates himself for a better angle, forcing you to disentangle from his neck and instead fumble desperately at his arms. The hot tension was tightening at an alarming rate with the pleasure he was giving to both of your most sensitive spots. Your gaze constantly switched between Hizashi biting his lip in a sexy focused expression to his contracting muscles as his hips press and rub against every inch of your cunt. Your nerves could only handle the sensual onslaught for so long—it didn’t take long before they were all set ablaze and reduced you into a trembling mess with your back arched and mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Sure, it wasn’t a heart-stopping climax like the one he gave you with his mouth, but the simultaneous spasms of your clit and innermost walls was its own amazing experience that had you melting into a blissful puddle. “Mmm, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” Hizashi groaned in approval. Your orgasm was still rippling through you when he buried his face into the crook of your neck and returned to his rutting, now at a much faster pace. Tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation. Your own choked sobs were smothered by the most intense moans you’ve ever heard sounding right in your ear. “You’re so amazing, baby…so damn beautiful.” How the fuck did he sound so sweet even when he’s on the verge of nutting? This hero has given you more than he even realized. He’s given you his company and joy every Friday, he’s given you kind words at your job, and now here he was giving all of himself to you. The emotions, the hypersensitivity, the closeness, it was all too much for you.

You came a third time, the sensation toeing the line between pain and pleasure as you clung to him tightly. He gave several more thrusts before reaching his own peak with a howl that might encourage a file complaint or two. You just held him, feeling every shiver run down his limbs and every shaky breath expelled from his powerful lungs. Both of you rested in each other’s embrace. If only things could just stay this way; Hizashi never failed to make you feel so good, in more ways than you even dreamed of. “Woah woah, you alright?” Said man’s panicked voice startled you. Before you could ask what he was talking about, you felt the moisture running down your cheeks. When did you start crying? “What’s the matter?” He tried again, his troubled eyes breaking your heart. ‘It’s nothing,’  that’s what you wanted to say, but your throat felt constricted as more tears fell. Hizashi didn’t need to hear you—he simply pulled you up into a proper hug, saying nothing as you cried in confused frustration. The music had stopped at some point during the sex, the only sound present now was your soft weeping. You let the soft rubs along your back soothe you, his other hand cradling your head. The tenderness of it all just made you want to cry more, but you held back and calmed yourself down and spoke. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” “Nothin’ to be sorry about, listener,” he returned to using that term, making this feel like another one of your friendly night talks. “It gets pretty intense sometimes.” He pulled you into a kiss, this one much lazier than the others. This was it. The kissing. It was too sweet, too sincere, the warmth of it blossomed something inside your chest that felt too earnest to be simple lust. Was he aware of what he was doing to you? Were you just overthinking this? Weren’t one-night stands supposed to have boundaries? Hizashi pulled out of you, leaving behind a sad emptiness that wanted him back immediately. He rose to his feet and headed to your bathroom, most likely to dispose of the condom. You heard his voice sound out of the room. “I’ve got little angels and devils to teach tomorrow, so I probably shouldn’t stay for long.”

Your heart felt like lead. “Okay,” you muttered. There really was nothing more to this. He was putting his boxers back on when he continued. “But…if it’s not too much to ask, maybe I can come by again?” What? Was he messing with you? “You’re serious?” You didn’t mean to sound so disbelieving, but your emotions were such a mess right now and you won’t appreciate having them toyed with. His pants were pulled up next. “One hundred percent serious!” He exclaimed with, dammit, that smile that lit up your entire being. “Maybe I’ll visit the cafe some more too. You were right about that croissant!” He returned to your side on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist. “What I’m saying is, I think I like my favorite lady listener more than I thought.” Your heart was freed from its petrified state and swelled. Your arms swung around him before you could even stop yourself. “Hizashi…that’s so great but…you’re such a busy pro hero…I’m just a…how will this work?” You were rambling into his chest. “Easy girl, it’s nothing complicated. I’ll visit you whenever I have the time, alright? Ready to give you some support and…attention.” There’s that silly eyebrow wiggle again, making you laugh. You just kept on cuddling him, enjoying his presence for as long as you could tonight. A few minutes passed when you felt him shrug and break the silence. “Ah, what the hell.” He took hold of you and fell back onto the mattress with you now laying against him. “I guess I can stay for the night. I’ll just have to deal with waking up extra early tomorrow.” You snuggled into him and smiled. “Thank you,” you whispered. It’s unclear what kind of relationship you just formed with Hizashi; maybe this was only something temporary. All you knew is that you had him by your side, and you were going to cherish every minute of it and waste nothing. You’ll never waste a second of your life again.

Youth I

Chapter One -  Pilot

Word count: 2k

Series Summary: On a family trip to your dad’s home town of Hawkins, Indiana, you make a series of decisions that result in you ending up in the year 1983 with more questions than there are answers presently available. 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader ( slow burn ) 

Chapter Summary: You go through what’s become your new ‘normal’ at Hawkins High School

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Nothing about your current situation was settling right in your stomach. There were no answers as to how you got here, and you didn’t have any questions that could easily be answered. A series of unfortunate events resulted in the attitude you carried. You used to be sweet, all smiles and laughter unless someone did something to make you upset.

What happened to that girl? The girl who grew up never experiencing fear to the point where it worried her parents and made teachers concerned because she’d climb so high on the playground that if you fell, you’d surely break something.

You’d climbed so high on something, and you fell into this situation, and something did break. Your bravery, your fearlessness, nothing physical, but those two things were shattered, and your ego bruised.

Nothing was like what you were used to. To you, everything in this school hallway was dated. The fashion, the haircuts, the textbooks, and the tech.

The stereotypes.

“L/n!”

You shook your head, already knowing whose voice that was. A teenage boy who fit the typical ‘jock’ stereotype that everyone knew. The kid who hated his small town, he got around, played a sport his father probably hated, who would likely never get out of said small town he hated. Yeah, you knew the pattern. Everyone, where you were from, did.

“No.”

You continued on your trek to the locker, but you could hear the slight squeaking of the soles of the older boy’s Nikes on the linoleum floor trying to catch up. Where you were from, people would be staring at this type of occurrence, but because none of the students surrounding you even batted an eye at the basketball player or you for that matter, told you that it wasn’t abnormal for him to be audacious.

“Hey now, I just wanna talk.” He defended, finally catching up to you, walking alongside, but a little bit behind so he didn’t get in anyone’s way.

“Harrington, the last time you wanted to ‘talk’ was when you needed my math homework.” A chuckle escaped you as you said it, finally stopping at your locker.

“In my defense, you don’t look like a sophomore.” He tried, standing next to you as you were spinning the knob in the locker to get it open.

“Whatever, what do you want?”

“Wow, you’re grumpy. Anyways, Tommy H, Carol, and I wanna hang out but my parents don’t leave for another week, and we can’t be at Carol’s place because her mom hates Tommy, and well, you know how Tommy’s dad is.”

You hummed in amusement. “Yeah, he’s a dick, how does that involve me?” You had your binder and pencil case in one arm, staring at him with your hand inside of your locker, holding onto the cup of coffee.

“Can we hang out at your place?”

Rolling your eyes you kneeled down, placing your things down on the ground before standing upright, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling it towards your locker, placing it inside before closing the door on it. “Not happening.” You responded, a bright smile on your face as you grabbed your things, taking a step to walk away.

“Y/n! This isn’t funny!”

“I’m gonna correct you on that, it’s not funny to you.” The situation was probably the funniest thing you’d encountered in weeks, and considering your day to day life before used to be full of laughter and playfully teasing, that then went to quiet days spent alone and pondering, this was a nice change.

“Unlock it or I’ll tell Mrs. Jensen!”

Steve’s threat caused you to laugh, holding your things closer so you didn’t drop any of them. “A tattletale? You always did strike me as the type to tease kids in elementary school, but you never did seem like a snitch, you do know the saying right? About snitches?”

“Yeah, from you!” he responded, and although he had a serious face, you knew he was fighting back a smile as well by his voice and how his brows weren’t furrowed in frustration or anger.

“Snitches are bitches, who get stitches and end up in ditches.” it wasn’t intentional for both of you to say it at the same time, but you had, but in two very different tones of voice. Your’s was more ‘matter of fact’ and he was amused.

You stared at him for a second, your smile remaining before you stepped forward,  turning the dial of your lock to open it, and once you lifted the lever for the door, Steve got himself out, standing up straight and staring down at you, his hands finding the pockets of his jacket as you closed the locker door again. “That wasn’t fair, you look innocent,” he mumbled to himself.

“I’ll see you later?” Steve asked after a second.

“We have study hall together, so. . . maybe,” you told him, stepping away from the locker and heading down the hallway to your English class.

Bulletin boards on the walls, spaced out between each other, with thumbtacks keeping flyers and announcements up for students to see, lockers for students to keep their things throughout the day. It was all odd.

At your previous schools, lockers weren’t available. That was until your freshman year where you had to pay five dollars a year if you wanted one. And instead of bulletin boards, flyers and announcements would just be taped to the walls, or given during morning announcements, or emailed to students and parents. You were pretty sure your previous high school got rid of lockers in the late ’90s when drugs became prominent in your area and then got rid of bulletin boards when one student sent the other to the hospital with a thumbtack to the wrist, but those types of stories always had a few details in them that never made sense, allowing you to cast doubt on them. But maybe the story had just been told so many times that detail got twisted, the truth of what happened got misconstrued. Like a game of telephone.

Reaching the English classroom, you found your seat, with your anxiousness rising as you sat down, placing your coffee at the upper corner of your small desk, keeping your school supplies close to your chest.

You’d been a happy kid growing up. You didn’t have very many friends, but you had your parents, your little brother, and a condo that you’d been brought home to as a newborn that you knew was a safe place. Unlike the few friends you did have, you never really experienced anxiety or symptoms of depression, but you knew the signs, your closest friend, Mandy, dealt with it, and she confided in you often about how it felt and what it was like, and you often did your own research on it to know what you could to help her.

There were weekends where you spent a good few hours learning different breathing techniques to help her whenever she would have a panic attack, but now that you were dealing with moments where your heart sped up, your hands shook and you felt like something was terribly wrong, it was like all of those hours had been a waste because you couldn’t use them without getting more anxious.

“You okay?”

Looking to your left, you were met with a curious glance from your partner on the English project. Giving an unconvincing nod, you looked down at the top of your desk, eyes tracing over the wood pattern, lines connecting that looked like they shouldn’t, forming shapes and allowing you to distract yourself as Jonathan set his things down as well, taking his seat next to you.

Mrs. Jensen went over the usual, giving instructions for the project that everyone already knew, before leaving everyone to work, with her sitting behind her desk, a book in hand and a container of what you assumed were grapes by the purplish color. Though they could have been large blueberries.

“What’s so important about a quote?” Jonathan mumbled to himself, though it caught your attention from your own worksheet, looking over to him.

“In what context?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink as he began speaking.

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet, everyone knows what it’s about, you don’t really need a quote to explain things.”

You nodded when he looked over to you. “A lot of people only really know that it was written by Shakespeare and it’s about two star crossed lovers who kill themselves in the end. Mrs. Jensen probably knew that’s all anyone really remembers, she wants to make sure people know what’s actually happening.

“It’s pretty obvious, ‘Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?’ she’s asking where he is.” He shrugged a bit, placing the book down on the desk, pages open and light reflecting off of the glossy pages.

“No, she’s not,” you told him, getting an odd and questioning look from him. “Well, this was written in the 1500s, English is practically a new language at that point, getting its own footing for once, paintings of historical figures wouldn’t have the English spelling of their names, and English is a language that’s taken a bunch of different parts from other languages, mostly german. If you ever see a period piece that’s set around this period of time, if a child says ‘lady mother’ when they’re addressing their mom, they’re not acknowledging that their mother is a female. They’re acknowledging her title. So her husband is likely a lord of a piece of land, which makes her the lady of that land as well. It was an archaic way of showing respect to their mother by also saying she had a title.”

“How does that relate to the quote?”

“Well, early modern English had many different phrases, and things have changed, we’ve come up with ways to say things that are far more simple. While we think she’s asking where Romeo is, she’s actually asking why he’s Romeo. Why out of all the people she could have fallen for, it had to be him. The enemy. You could use that in the analysis, a bit of how it shows we don’t choose who we love, even if we know we shouldn’t love them.”

Jonathan blinked before looking at his worksheet, picking up his pencil and writing something down, paraphrasing what you had just said and only moments later the bell rang, signaling the end of the class period.

You grabbed your things, leaving as quickly as you could without looking like an idiot, trying to get away from what caused you to be so nervous and make you feel like you could be sick at any moment.

Growing up, you weren’t afraid of many things if any. But maybe you just needed something like this to make you afraid of everything and anything around you. To make you jump at the sound of a drop of water from outside your motel window landing on the metal railing of the stairs and walkway.

But you were terrified, and you wanted to wake up in your own bed, at home, with your dad gently shaking your shoulder to get you up and out of bed. You were terrified you’d never see your parents again, that you’d been too mean to your little brother growing up, and that the last memory he’d have of you was you being mean.

You hadn’t even been afraid to sleep on your own as a kid, and all the things that you weren’t afraid of as a child that you should have been, always seemed to worry your dad. But what would he say and think now? Would he be worried now that you lived in a constant state of fear? Just looking at clothing racks scared you.

Since July you’d been trying to act normal, trying to pretend everything was okay, trying to be your normal self, but your normal self would be odd to everyone else, you knew random things no one else did, you liked things no one even knew about yet, and if you tried to talk about those things, you knew it wouldn’t be a good outcome, not a sour one, but not happy.

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Add yourself to the taglist!

tagging who i know would want to be - 

@stonersteve​ @ilovebucketbarnes​

Must Have Done Something in a Past Life (To Deserve This)

Summery: Being in the Entity’s realm, some of course wonder what they did to deserve it; some joke maybe they did something in a past life or something

(Never noticing how a certain nervous leader twitched at that)

Warning: Mentions and Acts of bullying, Cruelty, animal abuse, Past toxic/abusive relationships, some mentions of murder.

(So, I got inspired :3 Of course my SI-OC side would come into play, and Dead By Daylight will not be missed. Tho, mind the tags, as this SI-OC... yeah, they were not a good person, so make sure to be mindful of your health.)

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When Dwight Fairfield was young, he’s always had dreams. Dreams of being popular, making friends, making it big in life, being a winner... But most of his bullies usually destroyed those dreams rather easily, locking him in lockers, pushing his head in a toilets, messing and even destroying his things, and generally just beating him up, writing over him Loser in permeant marker.

His first year of high school had certainly been a learning experience, though probably not in the way his teachers expected. Dwight might not have the best grades in the school, but even with all the shit he put up with and missing/ripped homework, he always managed to get by at least; he was adaptable if nothing else. He learned to watch the halls, learned who would be willing to let him hide from the bullies or at least would turn a blind eye to him if he passed by, wouldn’t call them to attention for a quick smackdown. He learned to keep his head down, learned to watch and wait and calculate other’s schedule’s and habits, to avoid the worst of the assholes who got a kick out of life by trying to kick him out of it.

But nothing, not all the skills and tricks he could muster up could compete with Lady Luck’s bad side.

It happened when one of his worst bully’s deciding to skip, just as the glasses wearing youth decided to go to the restroom that the unfortunate bump in happened.

“Ah, look, how you’ve been Dwight, long time no see.” was said rather cheerfully, the Bully wrapping an arm around the rapidly paling teen, Dwight refusing to say anything, least he provide fodder for that wicked look in the other’s eyes, the embers their not yet blazing at least. But still, he did nod, knowing that if he didn’t respond it would just provoke the other even worse. (So either way, he was going to suffer, but at least this way he could minimize as much risk as he could. He would gamble in ways he knew had some payoff, always watching the others face and hands with his own eyes, moving his head as little as possible.)

“You know, after so long apart, we should really do something to celebrate, right? Especially since we won’t see each other over the summer.” the stronger, taller, and very much built man said, arm going tight on Dwights shoulder, making him wince, stoking that wicked glee in the other’s eye.

‘Oh, this is not going to be fun.’ the nerdy teen thought, the world easily proving how right that was, his bully calling up some of his ‘friends’ as he did.

And they even brought ‘supplies’.

With Duct tape all wrapped around him and forcing him in place, stuck to the wall as he was, Dwight could only sit and take it as random items from balls to rocks were thrown at him, the youth doing his best to dodge as much as he could with the little head movement he could manage.

(He really, really didn’t want to break his glasses again; he’s managed to go half the year without incident.)

Though, with every hit coming closer to his head, with ever slam of a item against his body and the wall, a migraine started to form, making Dwight feel even fainter then he did before. Something also seemed to be going on with his sight as well, flashes of red seeming to appear before his eyes here and there. The teens across from his seemed to change as well, shadows of men in dark uniforms across him instead.

Dwight honestly felt like he was going to be sick. But then, in a moment of inattention, something hit him hard before he knew nothing but darkness.

----

A young child, watching ants crawl all around, before with a bored expression, squishing them one by one.

A preteen, being sweet one moment with their dog before cruelty hitting it over and over the minute it did something wrong.

A young teen, sweetly smiling up at the lady he just helped up, even as they stole her wallet with ease.

A young adult, gently breaking up with their devoted girlfriend, knowing this would be the last thing to send them over the edge.

An adult, ever so charming and popular, even as their body count keeps rising in their shadow.

This killer finally meeting their end, messing with the heart of someone who already had many admirers, tied up and yet still smiling, even as someone pulls out a gun.

“I’ve always wondered what was after death.” was said with that same gentle grin, those eyes so wicked even still as the bullet finally hits them.

(Oh, how they find out; they finally found something in this world to fill that emptiness in them.) 

-------

Ever since that incident, with Dwight having to visit the hospital thanks to the bullies going to far, things have been different. For one, the school had to actually punish the bullies, suspending them and having this go on their permeant records, seeing as one of the bullies had actually been livestreaming the event in it’s entirety.

This had the blessed effect of number two; with the school being cracked down on, Dwight was blessedly left alone the next two months before the Summer Holidays. Sure, there was some snide comments and the occasional shove, but otherwise, Dwight wasn’t complaining.

Not when he had other things to complain about.

‘Oh, and here I thought I was being the model roommate.’ was said ever so innocently, Dwight having to close his eyes when he heard it, ‘By the way, you forgot to carry the seven.’

Number three; the new voice that suddenly took up residence in his head. A Voice that came with a bunch of disturbing memories, a morbid sense of humor, and ironically a good teacher.

‘Doesn’t hurt having a good student; now come on, you just have a few more questions to look through and then you don’t have to worry about looking at math for the rest of the summer.’ is said by the Voice.

“And do what for the rest of the summer?” Dwight grumbled, opening his eyes once more to his drab little room as he went on with his math sheet, making sure to carry the 7 now in his division, which ended up making much more sense.

‘Many things; maybe go to the movies, play those games you like, kill time and maybe some people, oh, you can learn a new language.’ the Voice said ever so causally. 

Dwight used to wonder what he did in a past life to deserve the shit he went through; he really wish it could have gone unanswered, like with other people.

“...I might take you up on the language thing.” the young nerd said, looking over to a few of his manga and comics he had to the side, before he went to work back at his homework; it really was almost done, being the last of the summer homework he worked through with the voice in his head.

‘And I do believe it’s about time you stopped calling me that; I am more then just a voice after all.’ said Voice reminded him, the young teen twitching at that.

(Giving people names... made them apart of the world, made them someone who also had their own choices and decisions all around them... It made them real...)

“... Sure, Janus.” Dwight said, knowing the other would prefer that over their ‘actual’ name instead.

(All the while, Janus, or Dwight Jackson, huffed in the mind they found themselves in; before, they had always been so empty, never wanting to be alone, but so bored, so dull with everyday life and all it’s idle entertainments. Even killing was boring after a while, the thrill of it all becoming much too easy, much too routine after so long doing it and never being caught. It’s what made him decide to end it all in the first place and go out with a bang.

But watching someone else live their life, watching someone else struggle, claw their way to stay above society’s waters, watching each and every move this Dwight made, to survive on top of it all...

Well, Janus really couldn’t get enough of it to be honest; he could probably watch for eternity and not get bored, actually feeling alongside Dwight.) 

{All the while this goes on, neither notice the darkness in town, traveling the streets, wrapping around his home, eager and waiting.}

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Writer Notes:

:D

Dwight is such a fun character to play around with; so nervous, and yet capable, is a leader despite everything, can be a petty little shit when he wants, and yet so kind too. yeah, giving him a past life as a serial killer was mean, but so much fun, especially since the two of them are part of the Whole.

Janus: Charming, Seductive, easily bored, is ironically more of a follower then a leader; he would be a really competent as a right hand man or second in command; he just never found anyone worthy to follow, feeling ever so empty in his life.

Dwight: Awkward, Introverted, is actually someone that is a natural born leader and can stand his own, but because of his environment he grew up in, he ended up burying those talents to try and fit in.

(The two of them, above all else, hate being alone more than anything.)

Hope you all enjoyed it! 

Devil’s Sweet Star (38)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Soon. Soon, death will strike with its vengeful and saving scythe. Soon the blood will flow, in a golden setting. soon... Danny will kill Hoggins. After tomorrow, in the evening, to be more precise. But before that, the festival. Tomorrow, Danny will have to do everything possible to stay focused for article on the Roseville Festival. Mattew and Melina will be there to support him, but he is the one who will take the pictures. And he will have to take a lot of them. He will not really have time to enjoy it unfortunately. Especially since they will not be the only journalists on the spot, newspapers from other cities will be there too. It will be an opportunity to see new faces... and if possible, to have an exit door. Because if he can impress these journalists, maybe they'll offer Danny to come and work with them? Maybe.

The police will also be present to monitor the central square. Wilhelm too, unless he was too busy with Hoggins. But there will be at least one inspector, that's for sure. It remains to be seen who it will be. And you will be there, holding your stand, selling your pastries with your two employees. Just like Danny, you won't be able to enjoy the festival fully but it doesn't matter, you can always have a little party... in private.

Besides, Danny thinks back to last night. He appreciated that you were more playful, more enterprising with him. It amused him a lot. A sneaky smile stretched on his face; he already imagined all the little "games" that you could both play. But he will start slowly, he would not want to destroy everything. Mattew comes to rest next to him, sighing completely exhausted.

“Did you get up on the wrong foot?” asks Danny.  

“No, the boss wanted to see me for tomorrow... he told me to focus on the festival and not on the stands to eat. But if there is the pastry stand of (Y/N) I will not be able to resist! He knows it! I would like to see him in my place, I am sure he would do the same!” responds Mattew sulking.  

“Haha it's clear, but he's not wrong especially that other journalists will be there as well, we have to look good in front of them. But don't worry, I'm sure (Y/N) will still have a lot of cakes for us. And then you can taste his famous cake. I can't wait to see what it will look like in the end.”

“Besides, how does it work in your new apartment? doesn't that make you weird all this space?” replied Mattew.

“Very well, very well... it’s true that at the beginning it was strange to live together when we used to live each on our own. But we get used to it. And then... we have several opportunities to... test the resistance of the bed, if you know what I mean.” responds Danny, smiling jokingly.

Mattew looked at Danny with big eyes while Melina who was passing by at the same time started laughing. Danny also laughed as he patted the shoulder on his colleague who was still shocked. All three took a coffee break to chat a little, while enjoying the fresh air... of the air conditioner. It was a little hot today and, in the offices, even more. So, the air conditioner was welcome. They meet Nancy, the newcomer of the team. The poor woman was lost, until now she had only done odd cleaning jobs despite her diploma as a journalist. She wore small round glasses, her black hair tied in a ponytail gave her a little schoolgirl side or the cliché of shy and clumsy women. Afterwards, the poor woman was really clumsy. How many times has she dropped her coffee? too many times to remember. And it had only been a week since she was there.

“Have you heard the latest news about Hoggins? Apparently other former collaborators are ready to testify against him if there is ever a trial. From what some have said, Hoggins has been manipulating people for years and years to get them to invest in his business and mysteriously they have all sunk. He even did it with foreign collaborators. What a son of a bitch.” Said Melina.  

“He really fucked the whole world this guy it's not possible. Let him be fucked up in prison once and for all! The prisoners will take care of him! If you see what I mean...” responds Mattew.  

“The famous trick of the soap?”

“I would rather say the famous Swiss army knife trick. It's very easy to get one in without being noticed in prison... I've seen that before.” Replied Danny, sipping his coffee.  

“What? have you ever been to prison?” asks Melina shocked

“Yes. When I started my job as a journalist, me and my superior at the time went to a prison to interview a prisoner who was wrongly accused. And we took the opportunity to write about what was happening in prison. At one point I turned my head towards one of the cells, and I saw one of the prisoners pull out a knife that he had had hidden in a banana bread.”

“A great classic that. I am still amazed to see that the prison guards are not more on their guard than that...”

Danny shrugged his shoulders; he was not surprised. As it did not surprise him if these same prisoners managed to escape. But because they are idiots, they end up in prison again for the same crime. Dumbass. Danny never got caught at least. At the same time, he did everything to never get noticed or arrested. And yet he left from afar! He learned on his own... and he was lucky. And he intends to keep his chance with him... Oh, yes.  

Observing through the window, Danny noticed that the city was adorned with a thousand colours. The last banners were hung, the leaflets distributed, the posters glued. Tomorrow, Roseville would have been in existence for exactly 32 years. And Mayor Tallis is the one who runs this city... This man is truly an impressive person. And respectable. It’s perhaps the only one that is respectable in this city.  After you.

Our trio went back to work, each on their article, Danny on Hoggins' article. So, he's hated all over the world... In a sense it wouldn't be so bad if Hoggins stayed alive. it could be the scoop of the century! the case that could boost his career! Imagine how sensational a trial article could be. Especially if it's Danny who writes it. Even if he is a murderer, this is not a reason to abandon those why he spent his youth and his studies. He has to work hard, very hard even to get to this point! While Danny was working, his phone rang. A hidden number? That's not a good sign... unless it’s still these sellers who are trying to bait you with their stupid products.

“Roseville’s Gazette, Jed Olsen on the phone, what can I do for you?” said Danny.

“Hi..."Olsen".” responds a man voice.

“Hoggins. How did you get my number?”

“I have my sources as well. But you suspect that I am not calling you out of pure courtesy.”

“Gets straight to the point. What do you want?” replied Danny.  

“Leave this girl. Otherwise, you'll regret it bitterly little asshole. You don't realize who you're dealing with...” responds Hoggins.

“No, I think it's YOU who don't know who you're dealing with. And believe me I intend to make you pay for it. The prisoners will take good care of you, when the court will sentence you to jail for fraud, plus a voluntary homicide... You are cooked Hoggins. You can hide, you can lie as much as you want, you will not be able to escape your destiny. If Ghostface does not decide to kill you for copying its modus operandi. Because he attacked poor people for a few days... because of you. He can't stand being robbed of the show. Now if you excuse me... I have a job to do. Oh, and one last thing...” said Danny Before taking on a more menacing tone: “If you dare to threaten MY girlfriend again... it’s not her who will have an accident. But you.”

Danny hung up dryly, leaving Hoggins no time to say anything. This guy doesn't lack grit decidedly... he will have been a strong opponent, Danny must admit. But not enough to survive any longer. He sent an email to Wilhelm where he explained everything that was said in the conversation between him and Hoggins. Like that, it will make one more ball at the foot of this son of a bitch.  

The rest of the day went smoothly. Mr. Hembrook had summoned Danny to set up tomorrow's day. There will be a total of 4 newspapers, including them, at the festival. It will therefore be necessary to look good! It will also be necessary to take good photos, and to transcribe the speech of Mayor Tallis. Unfortunately, not everyone will be able to come tomorrow. The Gazette must therefore allow these poor people to know what the mayor said for this year's festival.

He worked another hour or two before returning to the apartment. It was quite late, and he had sent you a message to warn you to not wait for him to eat if you were too hungry and he apologized. To which you replied that it didn’t matter, and that you would put a plate aside for him. He parked, entered the building, and went up to the apartment. When he opened the front door, it was dark. no sign of life from you... Until he sees something moving on the couch. When he turned on the light, he sighed as he saw you asleep and, in your pyjama, his coat on you.

“Honey? Honey... Wake up... I'm home.” said Danny.  

“Hm... Jed? Sorry I fell asleep... I'm going to make you warm up your plate... I hope you like Udons...” you respond rubbing your eyes.

“You should go to bed instead... you barely stand. You must have had a big day. I'll take care of everything don't worry about it... I join you after eating and after a good shower.”  

You nod by yawning, which made Danny laugh. He placed a kiss on your forehead before letting you go to your room. Poor of you.... you are exhausted. He warmed up his dish of Udons and moved to his office to work. He worked for an hour, then he left his office by locked it, made the dish, took clean clothes and went to shower. He changed, and walked into the room, to find you asleep in bed, Danny's cushion in your arm like a stuffed animal. You're so cute... He gently regained his cushion, putting himself in the place of the latter in your arms. He laughed lightly when he saw your arms tighten around his waist, and he placed a kiss on your cheek before turning and stalling in bed.

He looked at his phone for about ten minutes, just to find sleep, which eventually happened. He thought back to the conversation with Hoggins. If only he knew what awaited him... if only he knew... But that would spoil the surprise. 2 Days... it's going to be a long time. But the most amusing thing will not be hoggins' death. The most fun will be your reaction. And whatever your reaction, he's ready to react. For good and for worse. A little conversation between Danny and Jed is in order.

“Everything is ready for your little massacre?” said Jed calmly.

“You don't seem to object to it this time... Jed.” Responds Danny.

“Don't claim victory too quickly, I'm not for that kind of thing... But here Hoggins touches on something precious. Or rather someone. As much for me as for you. And I'm not going to let him do it.”

“No, it's ME who's not going to let him do it. Believe me... you'll enjoy the show too.”

“What's next? What will happen?” replied Jed.  

“I don’t know. We shall see how things develop. In the meantime, we must prepare... as much for tomorrow. That for the day after tomorrow.” responds Jed.  

Yes... we have to be prepared. Because these next two days are going to be intense.

But really delicious.

***

(Phew! this week has been just as busy as the previous one! But I managed to finish this chapter! As for the RE8 fanfic I'm progressing pretty well! I may do a little teaser post to give you an overview! As for the title... I'm stuck. I have three ideas in mind and I can't make up my mind... Help me XD I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)