#and i'm not even in an area affected by the wildfires this time
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With the weather in Greece these last couple of weeks cosplaying the fiery pits of Mordor, we could all use like a truckload of ice cream.
How are you dealing with the heat? Are you a-fan-and-ice-cream Chantelle? Can't-move-too-hot Beatrice? Lying-on-the-floor corgis? Or basically married to your a/c at this point?
Or is the weather actually nice where you live?
(Some all-too-relatable panels from my comic "Cupid Cafe")
#it's been a fiery hell here lately#greek summers becoming least livable every year#and i'm not even in an area affected by the wildfires this time#not yet at least....#there's still too much summer left for comfort#we've been getting heatwaves up to late september in the past couple of years#hello global warming....#heatwave#summer#comics#queer comics#lesbian couple#queer couple#corgis#cute art#artists on tumblr#anna holak
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Covered in the Colour of You ࿐
— Armin Arlert
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, cisfem reader (use of girl as reference to the reader), reader's hair gets combed through, reader wears a nightgown, post-canon exploration of characters and setting, reader is mentally ill (so is Armin), hunger as a metaphor for desire, love as consumption, love confessions, first times (Armin is a virgin, Reader is not), first kisses, sex on a table, some foreplay, unprotected sex, creampies, ambiguous ending, angst, hurt/some comfort, childhood friends to lovers.
⊹ Run time. 10k
⊹ Note. I don't know how we got here but I'm glad we did. This was meant to be a cute comfort fic to deal with the ending of Attack on Titan but it became so much more, I hope you enjoy.
❝A surprise visit from your childhood friend, Armin Arlert forces you to confront the feelings you've been harbouring for over a decade..❞
The Jägerist’s cries are deafening, they bounce off the clay brick walls of the surrounding houses and slither through your shuttered window panes. Every Tuesday and Thursday, the newly minted Paradis military regiment convenes in the small town square within the rebuilt city of Shiganshina. It took them just under a month to replace the fallen with green boys and girls who were just buzzing at the idea of honouring Eren Jäger and avenging his death. Once Paradis managed to secure the resources– if there were any left– you were certain that the military would erect a bronze statue of Paradis’ “saviour”. For now, they’d bother napping babies and the elderly folk who milled about the area to soak in some of the sun’s sweet warmth.
Today they seemed to be reminding those who’d spare an ear to listen, that traitors would soon shore and with them came treasonous falsehoods. If not for Queen Historia who still harbours some morsel of affection for her old comrades, they’d be as good as dead the moment their ship docked. Word spread quickly, how you weren’t sure, but like wildfire the claim that Armin Arlert had been the one to kill Eren Jäger scorched the plains and further sowed the seeds of instability amongst the population.
The irony of such a ludicrous statement was not lost on you. Armin Arlert couldn’t kill Eren Jäger, they were best friends and all of Shiganshina knew there could not be one without the other. You had known the two almost as long as they had known each other. Shiganshina wasn’t so big in those days, Grisha Jäger was the only doctor and Armin’s father was something of a handyman. They were who you called upon when something was amiss and you’d thank them with a warm meal or something sweet. That was what you did in those days, you showed kindness wherever you could. They were so simple, those days when the walls kept secrets and our minds were shrouded with ignorant bliss. Some mornings when you woke before the sun had yet risen, you wished Paradis could have remained tucked safely beneath the blanket King Fritz had pulled over the island.
What little sense of communal affection remained dwindled with calls to action that erupted from the square.
This morning, the sense of longing that had settled between your lungs weighed heavily as you listened to the shouting. You wished the clock would turn back and the next time you woke, you’d be ten years old and the house you lived in would be your home. It was sort of a sick joke, to be given the keys to the house built upon the rubble of your family's home. Floch handed you the keys as if he had done you this great personal service when it had been Eren, Armin, Mikasa, and their friends who had dug through the wreckage to salvage the home they too had lost. Vagrancy was tiring and what little money you had to your name after years of working for meagre wages that just barely covered your expenses, maybe you should have been grateful to at least collect a few pieces of your life before even if they jagged and misshapen. Something was better than nothing, wasn’t it?
It had to be.
There needed to be some reason for you to keep going. Lately, there didn’t seem to be any. Everything felt wrong. The once-cobbled streets were made of smooth even stone that allowed you to bounce around the city with ease, it reminded you of the capital. As a child, you often felt jealous that Wall Sina was home to such niceties while you were made to trip over protruding stones and wade through mud puddles in the wet months. Now though, you’d give anything for a semblance of a distant past that would make Shiganshina home once more. But as you lingered around your old haunts, searching for familiar faces and memories that would ease the pain in your chest, all you’d find was something new and foreign that left you feeling disappointed.
Turning over onto your side you curled inwards, a soft sigh passing your lips as you willed your mind to banish the longing that gnawed at you. The cool breeze that glides through your window leaves goosebumps on the bits of flesh that aren’t being swaddled by your thin white blanket. All the battle cries seemed to have simmered down as the sun inched closer toward the middle of the sky. You might be able to catch the morning market before they pack up their wares for the day if you leave now. Your icebox was pathetically empty, with only a head of rapidly wilting lettuce and milk to occupy the space. Sitting upward with a yawn, you cast a glance toward your dresser. Your clothes hang sloppily over the side of the open drawers. You should probably tidy things up before the hour grows too late.
The sleek, mousy brown floorboards that make up the second story of your house do not creak as you pad across the room—your chest aches, though you’ve grown desensitised to the familiar feeling. Your house used to creak and groan when the wind blew too roughly, and the walls were thin enough that you’d wake to the sound of your mother humming as she prepared breakfast for your family. You tried not to dwell too hard, if anything you should have been relieved. An unexpected storm wouldn’t dare to blow the roof off your house now.
Plucking the soft, brown wool knit cardigan off the lip of your cracked door you slipped the fabric over your body. Your delicate muslin nightgown did little to keep the morning chill away. It did even less to preserve any ounce of modesty. Your bare feet slapped against the stairs as you headed downward, and a soft knock sounded at your door. Pulling your cardigan closer to your body you sighed. It must have been Mrs. Bergmann from next door coming to check on you, make sure you left your house this week, let in some fresh air– function as any other human would, that sort of stuff. She had been widowed long ago, her only son had been one of the many scouts to give his life for a free Paradis. There wasn’t much for her to do aside from checking in on her neighbours. She was a wife, a mother– it was in her nature to nurture all the little lost souls she came across.
“I’m coming Mrs. Bergmann,” You called, your voice echoing around the empty space that would have been your living room, “You don’t need to call in Werner to bust down the door just yet!”
Forcing a smile to your lips, you prepared yourself to open the door. Mrs. Bergmann was well-meaning on the best of days, if a little nosey on the worst. It was better to have someone than no one at all, you remind yourself, pushing back the urge to blanche and roll your eyes at the urgency of her knocking. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hope your hair wasn’t too gnarly after all the tossing and turning you did last night. The door opens with a soft click as you twist the knob open.
Shock blows through you as you blink at the person on the other side. Your eyes frantically open and close, trying to make sense of who stood before you but as your synapses fired off round after round, searching for something, they found nothing.
“Armin?” You timidly ask, your throat twists up and grows dry.
The syllables on your tongue felt wrong. Maybe, the muscles had just forgotten how his name tasted. As a child, his name rolled off your tongue sweetly and constantly. Back then, there had been too many emotions packed inside your small body, you could never make sense of them, all you knew was that they all led back to the man in front of you. Your cheeks warmed at the reminder of the crush you used to harbour, of how you’d write your name and his, silently calling yourself Mrs. Arlert as if she hadn’t already existed in the form of his mother.
Armin’s cheeks grow round with the shy smile he wears, “Hi,” he says. The remnants of his boyhood live in the soft curve of his jaw and the cherub-like softness of his rosy complexion.
“Hi,” you breathlessly whispered as you searched for any other lingering signs of familiarity.
“May I come in?” he asks, his nervous hands smooth imaginary wrinkles in his sage green tie. The breath is selfishly stolen from your lungs by the greedy, monster who lived inside of you. They swallowed back the traces of your youth, you hoped it was enough to placate them because as long as your breath was hitched, no words could come forth.
Armin’s blue eyes curiously peered back at you from beneath his pale blonde lashes. He was still quite pretty, but the edge of maturity that marred his features made your heart flutter in a way it never had. The desperate longing that clawed at your rib cage slowed, pawing instead as its interests morphed into something more amorous. You would have beaten it down if you could, shame prickles your skin as you clear your throat.
“Of course,” you stutter, opening the door to make room for him to enter, “You’ll have to excuse my appearance, I wasn’t expecting any guests this morning.”
His smile is polite, “What about Mrs. Bergmann?” He inquires, his eyes darting around to drink in the interior of your house. It looked just like the one he was raised in but it had been twelve years since he stepped foot in one. The scouts lived in barracks that were carved out of long-since abandoned castles, “You seemed to be expecting her.”
“Ah, not exactly,” you muttered, offering him a seat at your dining table, “She’s just the only visitor I have as of late … So, what brings you by?”
Armin declines the seat, instead pulling out the chair opposite of him for you. You thank him with a small bow of your head. His knuckles brush against your shoulders as he slides his fingertips along the edge of your chair before swinging around to the other side. In a world of boys, Armin Arlert was a gentleman, as he always had been, even at the age of ten when boys took to tugging girls' pigtails for attention. His grandfather would be proud of the young man he’s become. You think Mr. Arlert would have been proud even if all Armin did was survive.
The warm yellow sunlight filters through the windows and turns Armin’s hair a shade of bleach blonde. His skin is tanned, his cheeks rosy. He looks healthy, he’s a bit taller too. His hair was different too now that you took a moment to look at it, only slightly so. The shaved undercut reminded you of the short, stoic captain whose charge Armin was in for years.
Insecurity stirred in your belly. You thought of what you might look like to him being so dishevelled in nothing but a nightgown and cardigan. Unkempt, that is how you must have appeared to him. The bike in your stomach burns at the back of your throat as you cross your legs and tuck as much of your body beneath the table as you can.
“I just wanted to see you,” he says, resting his linked hands on the table, “It’s been a while since we last spoke.”
It’s been over four years, the bitter overly insecure voice in your head hisses, “It has, but you’ve been busy, saving the world and all,” you say instead, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, “Honestly I must confess, I'm a bit surprised, I thought you and the other ambassadors would be meeting with the Queen.”
What you truly mean to say dangles in the air. Armin can feel it, he shifts in his seat— why wasn’t he with someone more important? How did he manage to sneak past the Jägerists predatory gaze? He shouldn’t have been here. The anguish that wrought the shores of Paradis couldn’t be fixed with a measly conversation but surely, it was a start so, why was he here with you?
“She met our boat at the harbour to ensure our safe passage into the city,” he explains, picking at his fingers, “We’re still trying to coordinate with the army but they’ve agreed to allow free reign of Shiganshina so long as we remain unarmed.”
“It would be rather counterintuitive for peace ambassadors to bear arms.”
Armin lets out a small chuckle, smiling a bit to himself.
“But, they’ve already proved their incompetence in thinking trained soldiers need weapons to fight,” you muttered, casting your eyes away from him, “I … My apologies, I shouldn't speak ill of your comrades.”
“They’ve dissolved the Scout Regiment, I’m no longer a soldier and they are not my comrades,” Armin swiftly replies.
He fiddles with his tie again, flattening out the fabric with scar-riddled hands. The last time you saw him, his skin was surprisingly unmarred. Old scars you could have sworn imprinted his skin ceased to exist, something to do with his newfound titan ability, that’s what Eren said when he rolled up his sleeves to expose his own blemish-free body. It seemed unnatural then, for the pieces of personal history to be erased but Armin felt alien enough without you reminding him of how much he had changed.
“Yes, but-”
“How are you doing?” He interrupts, and an apologetic look swims within the depths of his baby blue eyes. His time in the military was a touchy subject, which was to be expected but it didn’t wash away the burn of curiosity that ribbed at your bones, “When I last wrote to Mikasa, she said she hadn’t seen you in some time in spite of being neighbours.”
Pursing your lips, you sigh, “I’m doing well Armin,” it’s a bald-faced lie but the two of you have become so estranged, Armin couldn’t know you the way he once did, not when so much time has washed the imprints you’ve pressed upon each other as it brought in the tide, “How are you?”
“That’s not an answer,” Armin frowns, the dip of his lips making his cheeks round in a way that reminds you that he is only twenty-two, “I haven’t seen you in four years, I … I want to know what your life is like.”
Reaching over the table, Armin takes your hand in his. If he notices the irritated and oozing flesh around your cuticles, he keeps it well hidden. Smoothing his thumb over your knuckles, Armin settles his eyes on yours, taking in the two little lines that have been carved into your skin from how often you furrow your brows. There was no “correct” way to tell someone that you spent most of your afternoons curled up in bed, lying listlessly as you listened to the sounds of the bustling street below. Armin had a penchant for worrying, he’d worry about your well-being when there were far more important issues for him to focus on.
“It’s not so different from before.”
Armin was unconvinced. Eight years ago, after the Scout Regiment took control of the central government, a bit of money was sent your way in addition to your rebuilt childhood home. Though they wouldn’t say it, you believed that Eren, Armin, and Mikasa felt guilty for abandoning you the moment they turned twelve thus becoming eligible to enrol in the Cadet Corps. You had no interest in joining the Scouts, Military Police, or the Garrison but Eren was determined and wherever Eren went so too did Mikasa and Armin. With no family and no friends, you had to fend for yourself. It wasn’t so bad. A woman, you could hardly remember her name now, paid you to care for her youngest child while she and her husband worked, and their older children attended school. She gave you room and board, fed you three square meals, and gave you “hand-me-downs” to wear.
In the chaos of Trost being breeched you became separated and weeks later learned that the family perished. You used what little money you managed to save to pay for board in an inn near Jinae where you worked as a stable hand until your childhood friends and their comrades came bearing gifts. You’d need to find work soon. Now that you were of age, you were sure to find a cushy job as a barmaid at the local tavern.
“You think it is?” You asked, biting on your bottom lip.
Armin nods. His grip tightens and he mutters a low, “Sorry” when you wince from how he accidentally squishes your fingers beneath his.
Shrugging your shoulders you think back to the before much like you did most days, “Paradis is being run by lunatics who worship a dead man,” you blanche, your chest preemptively tightening from your nerves, “That’s not so different to before when this shitty little island was run by lunatics who worshipped the walls.”
Except now, people actually paid mind to the chirping loons. They had access to weapons that could wipe out what was left of humanity and certainly were unafraid to use them. Crossing them would be a very stupid and very dangerous mistake. Bravery was what this island prided itself on, now the most one could muster was a contempt-filled glower that was sent in passing.
“That’s not …” Armin’s voice trailed off. There was that look of guilt again.
“I know.”
Lacing your fingers between his, you squeeze Armin’s hand.
“It’s not your fault, Armin,” you assure, your mouth twisting up into a strange smile. The muscles in your face seemed to ache as though you were contorting your expression, “You know that, right?”
He nods his head, and strands of his pale blonde hair fall against his forehead as he does, “I know,” he whispers with conviction though his hand trembles in yours. You remain unconvinced, guilt rolls off his shoulders in sickening waves.
“It’s not Eren’s fault either.”
You’re unsure why you say it. It was Eren’s fault. It was his name and his image that they fought for. Whatever politics happened behind closed doors did not matter, not when he died knowing that those men and women idolised him and would wage wars in his name. One spoiled fruit rotted away the entire crop and now Paradis was ready to cosign its doom, picking on the weakened and the damned as if this island had not once been just the same.
“Thank you,” Armin mouths, his voice barely audible as he clears his throat and replaces his expression with a friendly smile.
“I guess the trains are different,” you blurt, looking for a way to steer the sinking ship that was this conversation, “I’ll never get used to them, they’re so loud and dark inside.”
“Glad to know our hard work is being appreciated.”
You lift the corners of your lips to smile at him, “It is, the horses are very grateful to no longer be worked to the bone by merchants transporting goods from Maria to Sheena,” you say, nearly forgetting that there no longer was an interior or exterior to name, “Life here is still simple, Armin, there isn’t much to update you on.”
“Still-”
“We can’t all be heroes,” you jest, nudging his foot beneath the table, “So, tell me what is life like for you?”
Armin withdraws his hands from yours, “It’s all I talk about, I don’t want to talk about it with you,” he explains, swallowing thickly, “Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.”
Rising from your seat you round the corner of the small table to press the palm of your hand between his shoulder blades. The gesture is meant to be comforting but you feel awkward, like you shouldn’t be touching him like this though your body craved the knowledge of what his skin would like against yours. The tips of your fingers graze the edge of his crisp collar, you hastily jerk back, eyes narrowing to inspect the fabric for any unwanted crinkles you may have caused.
“I’ve been such a bad host,” you mutter, “My mother would be so disappointed that I haven’t asked you if you’d like anything to drink.”
“Tea if you have any, please.”
You nod again, you still have some dried chamomile that Mrs.Bergmann gave to you when you confessed to her that you struggled to sleep some days. The tea didn’t help but it was the thought that counted. Goosebumps trailed up the length of your bare legs and you cursed yourself for not excusing yourself to dress before you sat down with Armin. The early spring air wouldn’t warm until the late afternoon most days.
Armin’s gaze is heavy. He watches you flutter about your kitchen with keen intent. His eyes slither up your body in a methodical manner. You’re unsure if he’s leering the way men unabashedly do when they’re three pints in or if he’s searching for any indication that something might be amiss. You hope it’s the latter. It should be the latter, you didn’t feel uncomfortable and Armin wasn’t one to steal eyefuls of others.
“Do you still like it with milk and honey?” you ask, though you’ve already reached into the icebox in search of the milk you knew was in there. Hopefully, it hasn't yet spoiled.
You flinched when you rose to your full height. Armin had materialised behind you. The jug nearly drops from your hand but Armin is quick to wrap his fingers around the handle, overtop of your hand. He guides the jug to the counter and reaches an arm around you to take the teapot off the heat before it can release a shrill squeal.
Pressing your hand to your chest, you murmur a breathless, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Armin chirps.
His eyes bore into yours, he’s inspecting you once more. Whatever he’s in search of, you’re certain he isn’t going to find it. The girl that he once knew was not the same woman that stood before him, nor was he the same boy even if his eyes twinkled just the same. That was growing up. Your stomach grumbled, licking its chops as the wanting returned. Your eyes trickled down Armin’s face until they settled on his cupid's bow. His lips were full and a dusted pink colour. They were nice, you remember wondering what they’d feel like against yours if it’d hurt to kiss him after he’d bitten his lips raw with stress.
The sharp edge of the counter digs into the plush flesh of your hips as you press your body against it. Hunger is as frightening as it is all consuming. You are hungry. Are you hungry for him? You’ve craved and yearned for places and their people, but never their bodies. The one time you allowed a man in your bed it’d been out of curiosity and some twisted need to feel something, anything other than the dull twinge of melancholy that sprouted from the roots it planted in your heart.
Armin placed his hand on your chest where your heart was. The heat of his palm melted through the thin fabric of your nightgown, causing you to instinctively shiver, “Your heart is racing,” he comments, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, “I didn’t startle you, did I?”
“No.”
“How is Annie?” You nervously ask, searching for a way to stifle the deluded desire that coursed through your veins, “Last I heard from Hitch, she had been freed from her crystal and joined you. That must have been exciting, being able to speak to her after so many years.”
His face crinkles up into a confused expression, “Annie is fine, they’re all fine. Connie and Jean are excited to see their mothers,” he replies slightly, cocking his head to the side, “Why do you ask?”
You shrug your shoulders. Armin doesn’t remove his hand. Your heart skips a beat, you’re sure he feels it.
“Was just curious I guess, since I heard you had feelings for her.”
“Annie and I are friends, nothing more,” his nose crinkles, he seems to want to ask where you hear such a ludicrous rumour but doesn’t. When he wasn’t with the scouts, he was with her crystal, talking as if one day she might answer back.
“Oh.”
“Are you seeing anyone?” Armin counters, his long pale lashes fluttering against his cheek as he blinks, “You’ve always been … quite the catch.”
His voice trails off, he regrets his wording. He didn’t want to liken you to fish or cattle but of all the vast information stored in his brain, there seemed to be nothing on complimenting women. Not that he’s done much of that in his lifetime. There’s never been a need to. Armin wants to compliment you, to tell you how he really feels but it gets clogged in his throat as he struggles to get a read on you.
Shaking your head, you avert your gaze.
It’s not for a lack of trying or wanting. None of the relationships you pursued ever felt right. Their hands didn’t fit within yours the way they were supposed to. Your body was hallowed out in the middle but they couldn’t fill you up. It wasn’t their fault. You’d accept that you were broken, someone who simply wasn’t meant to be loved. It was easy. Until now, when the one person your heart still clung to stood here and dangled himself like a carrot.
“Good, you’re too good for anyone on this island,” his proclamation makes your skin itch. Even if what he said were true, you would have to settle for someone on this island eventually, lest you spend the rest of your life as alone as you are now, “You deserve someone who’s good enough for you.”
You nearly laugh, though he makes this statement with such earnestness that you’re almost inclined to believe him. Almost.
“Who then?”
Looking into his eyes made your lungs ache. There was nowhere to escape with how he pinned you in place with his gaze.
“Who’s good enough for me?” You ask, your nails digging into the wood counter as you curl your fists around the lip of it, “You?”
Armin rolls his eyes and the sight alone shocks you, “No, I could never be good enough for you,” a laugh springs forth, crackling past your lips before you’re able to stop it, “Is something funny?”
His cheeks turn red with embarrassment but there's nowhere for him to hide either.
“No … Yes, actually,” you sigh, expelling all the air from your lungs as you muster up the resolve to be truthful, “I have loved for as long as I can remember and I have wanted you even before I even knew what love truly was.”
Your fingers coil around his wrist, intent on wrenching his hand away from your chest but the look in his eyes stops you. Sadness and self-loathing meet in the bright blue pools of his irises. You were born six months before he was but he’s always seemed years ahead of you. There was a certain kind of wisdom that surrounded him, you weren’t sure why. Now though, whatever maturity that shrouded Armin vanished and all that lay beneath was a newborn fawn that teetered on legs far too long for him.
Your nails dig into the cuff of his jacket, crinkling the pristine fabric, “There is not a day that goes by where I haven’t thought of you.”
“I’m no good for you either,” he says with a wet laugh. His eyes shone with welled up tears that had no business blurring his gaze.
“Because you’ve killed people?” You ask, your brows furrowing as you frown, “There are many people who have done worse for less. At least you had a reason.”
“I could never be the man that you need me to be.”
“Not even for an afternoon?” You had always known his future held more than your own, even before he became humanity's saviour. He’d make his peace with Paradis and leave, maybe he’d come back years from now, or maybe he’d plant his roots elsewhere.
His hand trembles as he shakes his head, “No.”
Pressing his forehead against yours, he releases a shaky exhale. You bite back the urge to ask him once more why he was here. You were never that close as children, you were close in a way that all of Shiganshina was but never anything more than, at least nothing that would have meant this unannounced visit was appropriate.
“Why?”
“You should live a quiet life,” Armin whispers, his lips nearly grazing yours as they move to form each syllable, “A happy life, after all you’ve been through, you deserve it.”
Your eyes flutter shut, “And you don’t?” It’s a stupid question, really, if he believed he did this conversation wouldn’t be happening, “You’ve been through far more than I, you’ve lost so much more.”
“I have even more to atone for.”
His bottom lip quivers as he presses the weight of his body into you. He’s heavier than you could have imagined, and his body is harder too. Somewhere between now and then his lithe frame melded into lean muscle and it serves as another reminder of how much time has passed, how little you two knew of each other now. Trailing your fingertips over his shoulder, you slide your arm around him, pulling him into an embrace. Armin shudders in your hold, a meek whimper slipping past his lips as he crushes his body into yours. Your nails press into the sliver of skin that peeks over the lip of his collar.
It's the nape of his neck.
When titans were simply the monsters that hid beneath your bed and plagued your dreams, it was common knowledge that the way to snuff them out was through the nape. It felt oddly vulnerable for your hand to roam over the smooth expanse of skin, though even as a titan shifter it was no weak spot, it may well have been with the way his body shook in your arms.
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to live or to love,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, “You get to love now, you get to be loved. Armin, you’re allowed to have things and to want things even after all that has happened.”
Armin sniffles, pressing his nose in your hair. The scent of the lavender soap you’ve used for as long as you could remember still clings to your hair. You wonder if he remembers if that is why he burrows his face deeper until the tip of his nose and his lips brush against the skin of your neck.
Wanting was hard.
So little felt tangible and on the off chance it was, it remained just out of reach. Like a tease, that brushed your fingertips as you outstretched your arm before pulling away or a glimpse of the sun before an array of clouds moved in from across the sky. You couldn’t remember the last time you wanted something. Whatever it was you felt for Armin simmered lowly on a back burner until now, longing did not serve survival. Still, you wanted him but not in the way magpies coveted shiny trinkets but in the way the stars longed for the moon. It was a constant, all consuming yearning that made your stomach twist inward at the strange sensation.
“I don’t even …” Armin trails off, his voice wet with emotion, “I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to desire something.”
Leaning back, Armin allows enough space for him to look at your face. His cheeks are pink, blotchy, and shiny with half dried tears that pooled atop the apples of his cheeks. Cupping your face with the palm of your hand, he smiles sadly at you.
“But, all I have wanted for years was to know what it is like to kiss you.”
Your body burns, not with embarrassment but something else.
“Is that all?” You ask.
The corners of Armin’s mouth twitch upward, “Maybe not but I let go of those dreams long ago.”
“You kept this one, why?”
“Wishful thinking, maybe or … ?” Armin says, scrunching his brows together as he trails off, “You’ve always been here, you’ve been a constant in this ever changing world so I suppose I hoped there’d be a day where I could …”
“Kiss me?”
Armin bashfully nods, biting his lip a bit.
The shiny metal kettle of water grows cold in the length of time you and Armin spend silently staring at each other. He assesses you, slowly, looking for any signs that your affection for him remained buried in the past. You spoke in the past tense, and your words were too easily misconstrued. Your hands slip to cup the underside of his jaw. All this waiting, all this thinking was maddening when you knew exactly what you wanted. His face replaced those of all the men you kissed, his body manifested in the throngs of taverns like an apparition to taunt you. You wanted to kiss him more than you wanted anything else in this world.
His skin was warm to the touch, you’re sure yours is too. You feel warm like you’ve been dipped in melted candle wax. A bit of stubble tickles the palm of your hands and it makes you giggle. His hair is so fair, you didn’t even notice. Armin’s shoulders tense as you lean in, insecurity claws at your throat but you’ve already taken the leap. You were too far gone now to change your mind. Gently grazing your lips across his, you give Armin a chance to back away but he only leans in closer, his calloused thumbs bite into the soft edge of your jawline as he instinctively squeezes you.
Armin’s lips are slightly chapped and scabbed over in a way that tells you he still nervously chews them when he’s worried. He’s inexperienced, that you were expecting, not that you were particularly tactful with how you clumsily melded your mouth against his. Though, he didn’t seem to mind as he eagerly attempted to mimic each movement. The thread of want that coiled around your stomach roared, begging for your attention as pulled away.
The small noise of disappointment that gathers in the back of Armin’s throat does not fall deaf upon your ears. But, you feel ravenous. If you didn’t slither away now, you’d consume him, bones and all, before he’d even had the chance to register that you sunk your teeth into his sternum. You feel ravenous. It makes your skin itch. Your fingers twitched, they desperately wished to burrow themselves into his flesh to feel how his heart thrummed for you.
Through lidded eyes, Armin peers at you, “Just like I thought,” he says, his cheeks somehow deepening in colour.
“What do you mean?”
“One kiss and I’m gone,” he explains but that doesn’t smooth the confused furrow from between your brows, “I want more, I don’t know how I’m meant to live on knowing what it’s like to kiss and never being able to again.”
Your nose scrunches as you frown, “Say who?”
“Pardon?”
“Who said that I’d never kiss you again?” You ask, smoothing your thumb along the length of his stubbly jaw, “Because, I never said that.”
“I just thought-”
Looping your arms around his neck you sigh, “Stop thinking so much,” you whine, allowing yourself to relish in the knowledge that he too wanted more, “Sometimes things are far simpler than you make them out to be.”
Armin bashfully dips his chin for a moment, his heat filled gaze cast away which offers you some reprieve. Only for a short moment, though. He faces you once more in an instant. You can see it swimming in the pools of his irises, the want, the hunger. It’s something you never imagined to be reflected back to you, least of all from Armin. It thrills you all the same, your skin prickling with electricity that crackles to life when he reaches for your hips.
It’s gentlemanly, how he rests his hands respectively over your body with a feather light touch that may flee should you move too quickly. You want more though, you wish he’d take claim to you the way you the way your cunt ached for.
“Are they?”
You nod, fearing your voice would somehow betray you.
He too nods, far more thoughtful than you were, “You know, I loved you too, never had any doubts of what it was,” he muses, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows, “It never faded either even when I lost and confused about what came next.”
His admission makes you bristle, your ears perking up in search of any misspoken syllables that may have deluded you. There were none. There was no mistaking what Armin had confessed. It doesn’t feel real. You’d pinch yourself if Armin’s watchful gaze was pointed anywhere but you. That alone was proof enough that this was very real, Armin just confessed his love for you.
“And you?” Armin asks.
“Huh?”
Your heart pounds, screaming over the sound of Armin’s voice. You suck in a shaky breath and will your heart to calm down. In all your years of wanting, of yearning, you never imagined what it would be like to have your feelings reciprocated. You assumed neither of you would live long enough for anything to come to fruition. But you could hope now, right?
“Did your feelings for me ever fade?”
“No … no, never,” admitting out loud that you pined after a boy for nearly two decades would have made you feel pathetic if it wasn’t Armin who pulled the truth from where it coiled around your ribs, “Even if I wanted them too, they never would. You’re it for me, you’re the only person I was made to love.”
You didn’t fancy yourself a dreamer. At least, not after everything was said and done. There wasn’t much to dream up, but if you were to dream or indulge you’d tell him that there could never be anyone else because your souls were tied together. It was a terribly selfish thought but it was true enough that you felt inexplicably tied to Armin. Even if this day passed and you never saw him again, your heart would remain his until you both returned to earth.
Armin kisses you before you’re able to backpedal on any of your words, almost shyly, but still eager enough that his need rolls off his body in waves and crashes into you. His nails press through the thin material of your nightgown to nip at your hips. You’re reminded of just how strong he has become in all your years apart when you feel his muscles ripple through his forearms.
“Armin,” you sharply whisper between the desperate press of his mouth to yours, “I want you.”
It’s an unfinished thought. There are too many words that could come next and not enough actions to convey what it is you want. Threading your fingers through carefully styled hair, you tug at the strands. Armin keens into your mouth, one of his hands shooting out to grasp the edge of the counter you were pressed against. Having braced himself, he’s careful not to put too much of his weight onto you as his body melts into yours.
“I’m right here,” he says, with a slight laugh.
Resting your forehead against his, you sigh, “I want you,” you repeat, untangling your fingers from his hair to fiddle with the top button of his shirt. You flick it open, slowly testing the waters. There’s a sparse patch of flaxen hair that leads your gaze past his collarbones, “I want to be close to you, close with you…”
Your whisper, wanton words did little to clarify what you meant, Armin’s confused stare was fixed on your swollen, kiss bitten lips. Popping open another button, you glare at his tie. It constricts the fabric of his shirt from spilling open any further. Pulling the tongue of the tie out from where it’s neatly tucked in his waistband, you tug on it until you’re nose to nose. You swallow thickly, your gaze trailing down the expanse of his neck. The muscles strained beneath the skin as he nervously clenched his jaw.
“Oh … Oh.”
The red in his cheeks deepened. He looked a bit like a tomato but it was rather endearing.
“...Yeah?”
He nods a bit too quickly, “Yeah,” he agrees, biting his bottom lip, “I want this, I want this with you.”
Tentatively, Armin rests his hands on your shoulder and thumbs at the worn wool of your well loved cardigan. The fabric is slowly peeling away from your body, slipping down your biceps to pool in the crook of your elbows. Your heart flutters, it’s a strange sensation and for a moment you wonder if it’s healthy. It can’t be, not with how your stomach lurches alongside your heart. Unfurling your fists from his tie, you straighten your arms and allow your cardigan to unceremoniously fall to the floor.
“Are you sure?” You ask, your fingers skimming the delicate neckline of your nightgown. You weren’t yet so overcome with lust that you forgot yourself or Armin’s apparent lack of experience.
His hands replace yours, “Yes,” his skin is clammy but so is yours, the sheen of nervous sweat that gathers along your jugular feels disgusting when laid overtop of goosebumps but you can’t will either away, “You’re special to me … there isn’t anyone else I would want to do this with.”
“You’re not just saying this because you want to die with no regrets?”
You cringe at the crippling edge of insecurity that creeps over you, mentally slapping your hand in shame. Bad! You silently scold. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. In spite of all that happened, the future was never promised, you both knew that much. There was no shame in wanting to taste all life had to offer just in case. It was human nature.
“I’m going to live a very long life,” Armin says with a confident smile. Such sureness would usually make you roll your eyes in annoyance but Armin doesn’t say it to be boastful– even if he had, he’d have earned it– he says it matter of fact, he will live a long life in spite of everything, “And so are you, there’s no need to think in half measures filled with worries because we’re going to live long beautiful lives filled with everything we could ever want.”
It’s a pretty picture he paints but you can’t help but whisper, “We are?”
Smoothing his calloused thumbs along the column of your throat, Armin exhales, “Yes, we are,” you almost believe him, his optimism was just that convincing, “I’ll make sure of it.”
Armin tugs on the loop that keeps your nightgown tied closed, not minding that the two of you still stand in your kitchenette and it’s his first time. He gently guides the thin cotton fabric open to expose your chest but doesn’t move to pull the cloth from your body. In turn, you push his jacket off his shoulders and toss it to the floor with your cardigan. He unbuttons his shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his lithe abdomen.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, walking backwards at your behest, “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
His brows shoot into his hairline when he bumps into the edge of your table, “I never pegged you to be such a flatterer, Mister Arlert,” you tease, pushing his chest until he takes the hint to hop onto the tabletop, “You tell all the girls that?”
It’s easy to wear a smile and play the part of a bashful lovestruck young lady. It’s only half a performance. There were parts of you that have long since been buried amongst the past lives you lived. They seemed to come back to you with each puff of breath that passed your lips. You slip in and out of you were and you could become. It’s frightening and thrilling. You like the rush you get when he smiles back at you. It’s megawatt bright and wide enough to take up most of his face. You wonder if he feels it too, the pieces that come together like a puzzle. He must, that’s why he smiles and allows himself to indulge in the perilous depths of wanting that lap at your bellies.
“No,” he playfully rolls his eyes, his fingers splaying out as he presses his palms flat against the table, “Only you. It’s only ever been you.”
Your stomach somersaults, you could get used to the feeling, the flirting, being desired earnestly.
You’ve been desired before but those men didn’t desire you, but rather the idea of you, your house, even your cunt, but never really you. They never filled you with empty promises, their intentions quite clear from the first shared mug of ale. It never bothered you before but now it does. You wish you didn’t fall for their promise of something good when the real thing was so much better now that you had it in your grasp.
The tip of his shoe just barely grazes the floor as he swings his leg back and forth, stepping into the space between his spread legs, you graze your fingertip along the length of his thigh. The metal of his belt glints in the warm morning light. You should probably bring him upstairs, to your bedroom. You worry if you do, you’ll lose the nerves that have steeled over to service the aching monster in your belly. Tomorrow he might think you crass, perhaps he would even sooner when the haze of desire faded and he was left with the weight of his indulgence.
“May I?
“Yes, please,” Armin breathes, shuddering a bit when you place your hand on the buckle.
His hips twitch upward, seeking the warm touch of your hand. Daring to cast your gaze downward, you rake your eyes over his growing bulge. His belt clinks open and you suck in a nervous breath. You’re about to ask if you can unbutton his dress pants when he whispers another small plea, his breath heavy.
A few strands of hair slip over the edge of your shoulder, Armin tucks them behind your ear with a pleased smile. His cock springs forth when you pull the waistband of his underwear downward. The wispy trail of hair that disappears beneath his shirt is a shade darker, but just as fine as the hair on his head. Your mouth waters at the sight of his rosy tip, precum oozes when you gently squeeze the base of his cock. Slowly pumping your hand up and down his length, you glance at Armin.
His bottom lip is squished between his teeth, hiding the sweet little sounds that travel up his throat. You strain your ears to listen, your eyes boring into his. He blinks but holds your gaze. He frees his bottom lip and allows his jaw to hang open when he realises that you’re listening to his sounds. Armin doesn’t have to be quiet, he can loudly indulge in his pleasures so he does. Softly moaning your name with a goofy, lovestruck expression on his face even as he jerks his hips up to match your rhythm.
“Does that feel good?” you ask, internally cringing as you wrack your brain for something to say. You wonder if you should stay silent, but words may be more comforting.
Armin’s head bobs as he nods a bit too quickly, “Yes,” he moans as he digs his nails into the splintered wood of your table.
He uses his other hand to curl his fingers around your wrist, the one that wasn’t languidly working his cock. Armin squeezes your wrist too roughly like he forgets himself and his own strength, your brows crinkle in pain but it’s easily masked as a look of concentration. You don’t mind though, the pain reminds you that you’re alive, that this was real and not just the machinations of an overactive imagination. Armin shudders when you use your thumb to spread some of the precum gathered along the head of his cock down the shaft, allowing your hand to slide more smoothly.
Your name is sweet on his tongue, the syllables roll off it in a way that makes you think it belongs there. Like Armin was meant to say your name like this for the rest of eternity.
“I want to touch you too,” he pants, between wanton whimpers. The smooth silver of skin that he clings to isn’t enough, “I want you to feel good too.”
It’s difficult to say no to Armin when he asks so sweetly, “Okay,” you say, bringing your linked hands up to your mouth to press a kiss to the back of his hand, “Lay back for me, okay?”
Armin does as you ask without question like a dutiful dog obeys its owner. You hitch your legs over the edge of the table and settle atop of his thighs. Hiking the hem of your nightgown upward, you guide Armin’s hand between your legs to where your bare, wet pussy clenches in anticipation. Your cunt aches with need and your chest squeezes at the slight brush of his calloused fingers across your folds.
“Touch me here.”
“Like this?” he asks, curling his fingers to rub against your throbbing clit, a shiver rolls through your spine.
Cupping your hand over his, you encourage him to make a few small circles, “Mhm, just like that,” you shudder, your breath halting when the table creaks beneath your shared weight, “It feels good, Armin.”
Seeming satisfied with himself and the way his name melted past your lips, he replicates your movement. You feel feverish with need as the urge to burrow yourself within his sternum consumes you. It melds with the pinpricks of pleasure that dance inside your belly as your muscles tense. It’s a terrible fate– to be ensnared by Armin Arlert. You don’t believe his promises, no matter how saccharine. It’s devilish for him to touch you, you’ve decided. Like with your kisses, how were you meant to go on without Armin ever touching you like this again? But, you’ve learned to manage your expectations. Dreams were called dreams because they were never meant to be anything more than something to wish on as a child. Even if he did still love you, there was too much distance between what became of your life and what became of his.
Pleasure burns your belly. It singes your insecurities but doesn’t snuff them out in their entirety. It’s just enough to chase them away and leave nothing but bliss in their wake. Your head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Your chest heaves with haggard breaths, and your nightgown slips open to reveal the supple skin of your chest and your breasts to Armin. His gaze is respectful as he drinks in the sight. He moans to himself and marvels, it’s quite endearing. You like it, you don’t feel dirty or ashamed for your wanton ways, how could you when Armin drinks you in like you’re a perfectly crafted mountainside that has been crafted just for his admiration?
“Armin,” you sigh, “I need you inside of me.”
Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you slide the head between your dripping folds. Armin’s body wracks and his shoulders shake as he quivers with need. He moans your name once more, and you commit the sound to memory, for those cold and lonely nights that never seem to end. Your shoulders tense when you press the tip to your hole. It’s been a while, the stretch burns a bit. But, it’s nice. Your eyes roll back into your head and you curse under your breath.
Armin slopes his hand around the nape of your neck, “Can I kiss you?” he all but moans, “I want to kiss you again.”
His rosy cheeks grow round when he offers you a bashful smile. You kiss him, your tongue and teeth clicking against one another as you sloppily move your mouth alongside his. You’ve never been much of a multitasker. It’s hard to focus on much else aside from the mind numbing pleasure that distracts you. He hasn’t stopped rolling your clit between his fingers and as he swallows up your moans with desperate, fevered kisses, you wonder if he’s enjoying how much of a mess he’s made of you.
Your heart throbs in a funny sort of manner when you sink all the way down the length of his cock. The feeling of fullness spreads to the tips of your fingers all the way down to your toes. You hate how complete you feel, the fact that a small part of you wishes you could bottle the utter feeling of contentedness that warms you. The hunger and longing that lives inside of you never felt satiated, not once in the decade since it burrowed behind your lungs. Now though, they purr happily like a fat cat who’s had its fair share of the cream.
The taste of salt dabbles on your tongue, “Why are you crying?” Armin asks, his voice laced with concern, “Is something wrong, does it hurt?”
Swiping your fingers across the top of your cheekbones you confirm that those are your tears and not his. They spill past your lash line and there is nothing you can do to stop them. You don’t feel sad, even with the mess in your head you know that much. You sputter for a moment, desperately searching his face for an answer but nothing comes.
“I’m just so happy,” you say though you’re unsure where those words come from but they flow freely before you can stop them just like your tears, “I like being this close to you, I want to stay this close to you.”
Forever.
That’s the word that should complete your sentence. You keep it clutched to your chest where it’ll remain safe so long as you’re vigilant.
You knock your hips forward to silence whatever endeared sentiment Armin is about to form. His brows press together in concentration. He’s nearing his end, you can feel it in the way he throbs inside of you. Your tears are gently wiped by rough hands, you hardly register them. It’s difficult to focus on much as he plays with your clit and dutifully matches each flick of your hips. He’s a quick learner, he always has been. You wonder if he’s storing your reactions and sounds for later so that if there was a next time, he’d do exactly what you’d like without instruction. The end nears for you too, it lingers amongst the obnoxious groans from your table as you rock your hips. The sounds of skin bare slapping marry your shared, debauched whines. They’ll haunt your walls tomorrow and the next.
They haunt you right now.
You didn’t think you were capable of feeling so serene, but you do. You’re untouchable as you chase your release. It lays in the palm of Armin’s hands. You’ll eat straight from them if you have to. The coil in your stomach tightens for a moment and your breathing becomes staggered. Armin is no better, he sputters small half breaths between needy whines of your name. His forehead rests on your shoulder, and his sweat dabbled hair sticks to you. Strands of your hair cling to the nape of your neck too. The cool breeze that slithers across your house makes your heated skin break out with goosebumps. It doesn’t bother you though, nothing could bother you now.
“I love you,” Armin whispers into your skin as he cums, holding your body close to his.
A few more tears well up as your orgasm washes through you. Your thighs shake and you struggle to bring your arms around his torso. His tight embrace makes up for it as they lay limply by your side. Your flush skin is peppered with affectionate kisses and his nose is nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You feel loved, you haven’t felt it in a while but it felt similar to this. The earnest way he embraces you without a second thought is imbued with love. Lifting your tired arms, you curl them around his body. Your nails dig into the hardened flesh of his back. They leave a few crescent moons to join the myriad of battle scars and freckles that have returned to him.
‘“I love you too.”
You wish you could say it was true for the moment but it’s not. It was true because you did love him, you loved him in a way you weren’t sure you were capable of loving anyone else. If Ymir the Founder had left her people with anyone before erasing herself and her titan kin from existence, you think it might have been eternal love. The kind that wasn’t possible of fading, even when you didn’t understand why.
Hours pass and you find yourself in your bed once more, on the edge of waking and sleep you register the lack of sunlight. You don’t remember exactly how you made your way upstairs but you do remember two strong arms holding you close as you allowed slumber to cradle your tired mind in its embrace. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your blanket is tucked snugly beneath your chin.
There’s a letter on your bedside table and a glass of water. You make out the letters of your name and the promise of return but you choose not to read any further. Laying in silence you wonder if she’s still out there, your creator, the founder. If she was, you hoped she would listen to your pleas. You were strong, but you weren’t strong enough to spend the rest of your life waiting on a lost life whose remains had long since returned to the dirt and earth.
You prayed that the Jägerist’s stupidity would fall deaf to Queen Historia’s ears and that when you awoke next, there’d still be a head of blond hair next to you with long pretty eyelashes and rosy cheeks that told all his secrets.
He was too far entangled in your rib cage. You were far too comfortably curled around his aorta. Armin may be able to withstand it but you weren’t. After all this time, you really hoped you could be happy. Even with all the strangeness that came from estrangement, you felt more alive with Armin than you had in all the years of living in Shiganshina. It was a shell of its former self, with the ghosts of yesterday's past filling all the nooks and crannies. You too easily allowed yourself to become one of them, the ghosts but you didn’t half to be a ghost, you could want things just the same as Armin could.
And you wanted him to come back to you so the two of you could experience that future he was talking about.
Mr. Arlert did not raise a liar or a man who’d break promises. Your chances were good. You could be happy. All the lost parts of you could return and maybe you’d feel whole again, and maybe you’d welcome the warmth of the sun on your skin the same way you welcomed Armin back into your life.
You deserved some ounce of happiness too.
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#armin arlert x reader#armin arlert smut#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#aot smut#armin x reader#armin smut#armin x you
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DilucXGN!Reader-"Real Identity "
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Stories of Mondstadts “Darknight Hero” have been circulating the city like wildfire. It seemed like everyone and their cousin had some kind of sighting or interaction with the supposed vigilante; even if it was nothing more than “I saw a shadow disappearing down an alley the other night, it must have been the Darknight Hero!” Other encounters were wildly outlandish and really made you wonder how credible the stories were. It was beginning to seem like you were the only person within the cities walls who had yet to encounter the vigilante of the night.
And that was really starting to grate on your nerves.
If it wasn't for the Abyss Order personally reaching out to you for help in eradicating the supposed Darknight Hero, you wouldn't have believed the legend. You knew how the rumor mill in the city worked, it was how you got most of your information to report back to your superiors. But the Darknight Hero was slippery. Impossible for you to pin down. It was like trying to catch a shadow. But you would find him if it was the last thing you did. The Abyss made you an offer that you couldn't refuse.
You slam your pint glass down on the bar in Angel's Share and let out a frustrated groan. Diluc was tending bar that evening, and he looked over at you with a quirked brow. "Something bothering you, y/n?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. He walks over to you and gently pulls the glass out of your hand before turning and refilling it. He always did that for you when he noticed you were stressed, free refills on the house. You always told him he didn't have to, but he insisted.
Diluc was always like that with you. Constantly worrying about you. Constantly taking care of you. You joked around and called him a mother hen, but you really didn’t mind. Actually, you enjoyed it. You weren’t at all ashamed to admit you liked his attention. You couldn't figure out if his affection was anything more than platonic and you were afraid to ask. You were attracted to him, how couldn't you be, but you knew that one day you would have to leave Mondstadt. Leaving Diluc behind as friend would be hard enough, you didn't want the heartache of having to leave him behind as a partner.
"I'm tired of hearing all these stories about that stupid Darknight Hero!" You exclaim as he turns back to you with your drink. "That's all anyone talks about, and it's driving me crazy!" You look at your handsome friend over the rim of your glass while you take a long drink. Being the owner of both the winery and the tavern, you're sure he's heard his fair share of stories. "What do you think, Diluc?"
"Hm? About the Darknight Hero?" He leans against the bar across from you and ponders for a moment before answering. "I don't hold much merit to it. I think they are tall tales and nothing more."
You purse your lips and take another drink. You should have expected that the stoic redhead would give you an answer like that. So much for getting good gossip from Diluc, you think. But I'm tired of chasing around rumors and whispers. Maybe its time to try and draw him out again myself. You had attempted to lure the Darknight Hero into an ambush on multiple occasions, but it had yet to work. But you wouldn't give up. You wouldn't rest until you had the Darknight Hero in your grasp, slowly snuffing out his life. You wouldn't stop until you got what the Abyss owed you.
So you started spreading seeds. A rumor here. A dropped note there. You slowly weaved a fictional narrative that the Abyss was growing increasingly active in Wolvendom, plotting something. You sprinkled in some speculation that several Lectors were spotted in the area. Supposedly they were even kidnapping people and performing some type of strange ritual on them. If that didn't draw out the vigilante, you didn't know what would. The rumors within the city walls spread and grew, taking hold like an invasive weed. The panic in the city was palpable. The Darknight Hero would have no choice but to act.
Finally, the day came. The day of the supposed gathering of the Abyss Order in Wolvendom. You could barely contain your excitement. This has to work…. It HAS to! You think to yourself as you prepare. Just after sunset, you draw the curtains to block the view of any potential prying eyes. You're in the study of your house, the family home you inherited after your parents tragically "passed away" while traveling in Snezhnaya. A huge memorial service was held for them, to honor "the two upstanding citizens of Mondstadt". The city mourned but you did not, because you knew they just went home.
Walking up to a bookshelf, you easily push it out of the way to reveal a hidden door. The door once led to a small powder room that was intended for the convenience of whoever utilized the study, but it had long ago been converted into a secret storage room by your father. A storage room that, if discovered, would mean your arrest and downfall. You smiled to yourself as you took in your small treasure trove. A wealth of information that, if placed in the wrong hands, could fully mean the end for peace in all of Teyvat. Information that could ruin the governments of all seven nations. Oh yes, even your homeland. You were loyal, of course, but you weren't foolish. You were smart enough to know how to protect your standing in the position you held.
You don your Fatui garb and attach your mask to your hip before picking up a small wooden box that held your most precious possession. You could feel the power it held even through the oak wood. Lifting the lid, you gently take your Delusion in your hand and feel your heart flutter as the power surges into you. "Hello, my darling…" you whisper to it as you attach it to your uniform. You still remember the day you received it from the Tsaritsa, your parents and Pierro smiling proudly. It was the best day of your life, and the last time you cried. It was one of the last days you felt much of anything, if you were being honest with yourself.
Stepping out of the closet, you close the door and make sure the shelf is back flush against the wall before grabbing a cloak and exiting your home, slipping into the night. In your excitement, it doesn't take long for you to reach Wolvendom. Drawing a dagger from your belt, you pull off your cloak and slash it a few times before discarding it on the road. You create fake drag marks in the direction of your ambush point before hiding yourself up a tall tree. If you learned anything from rumors of the Darknight Hero, it was that he had a huge savior complex. Sitting on a sturdy branch with your back against the trunk, your eyes never leave the path below you. You've been waiting so long, you weren't going to slip up and miss your chance. Your reward was almost in your grasp.
You don't know how long you sat there, transfixed and unmoving, but eventually your keen eyes saw a shadow separate itself from the others in the forest and approach your discarded cloak. You lean forward slightly, assessing the person. Was this him? It had to be, who else would be out here this late at night. Your thoughts are confirmed when they step into a patch of moonlight and you can clearly see them. "There you are," you whisper to yourself as you eye up the Darknight Hero. Tall and lean, he's dressed in all black with a hood pulled over his head and an owl mask covering his face. With near silent footsteps, he walks over and kneels down beside your cloak, gently picking it up. He examines it for a few seconds before holding it up to his nose. Did that freak just smell my cloak? You wonder, but you don't have much time to think about it, because in an instant he's standing and hurrying down the path, following the drag marks you made.
It's now or never you tell yourself as you put on your mask and activate your Delusion. You only have a moment to savor the rush of power you get from it as it transforms you. The second it's complete, you drop from your spot in the tree and land with a soft thud behind the man. He whirls quickly and staggers back in surprise. "Fatui!" he spits. "What are you doing here?"
"I have some business with you, Mr. Darknight Hero," you purr, loving the way your voice sounded under the influence of you Delusion.
You can see his eyes are narrow and suspicious behind his mask. "If you're here to keep me from stopping the Abyss-"
You cut him off with a laugh. "Oh sweetie, there was no Abyss Order. No Lectors. No kidnappings or rituals.” You hold your hand up beside your mouth as if you were sharing a secret with him. “It was me the whole time!” You giggle.
“Then are you the reason y/n is missing?” He snarls, holding up your cloak. You were surprised that the Darknight Hero was someone that knew you, especially someone who knew you well enough to recognize your clothes and, apparently, your scent. But you recovered quickly.
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say with a shrug. “What are you going to do about it big boy?”
The taunt works, just like you hoped it would. He growls and drops your cloak to summon his weapon, but before he can even get the claymore swung around, you have your polearm connecting with his legs. He’s knocked off balance and falls to the ground, but he's quick to recover. Rolling quickly, he's back on his feet and lands a kick to your side. "Where's y/n?!" He roars, picking up his claymore as you right yourself.
"I'll never tell~!" You taunt in a singsong voice as you launch towards him. As the two of you exchange blows, you can understand why the Abyss has been having issues with this man. Even with the aid of your Delusion, he's a formidable opponent. His claymore blazes with the searing fire of his Pyro Vision, and you say a silent prayer of thanks to the Tsaritsa for choosing Hydro for your Delusion. At one point he gains the upper hand in the fight and slams you back into a tree. You let out a gasp as the wind gets knocked out of you. "Ooh, I like it when you treat me rough." You taunt.
"Shut up!" He practically screams at you. "Shut up and tell me what you want with y/n?"
You bark out a laugh as you summon more energy from your Delusion. "I don't want them! I'm just here for you!" You shove him away with all your power and smile with unashamed glee as he trips and falls on his back, his claymore falling just out of his reach. You jump forward and pin him to the ground, your heart pounding in your chest. "Finally," you giggle, pinning his hands above his head as you fumble excitedly for your dagger. "After all this time, I finally have you and I'll get what the Abyss promised me."
He stares up at you wide eyed as you ready your dagger, but just as you're about to strike, you falter. "No…" You whisper as you notice his hood falling back, exposing a few strands of bright red hair. A hair color you have only ever seen on two people. "No, it can't be…." Dropping the dagger beside his head, you let go of his hands so you can rip off his mask. Your stomach drops as you stare down into the familiar face of your lifelong friend, Diluc Ragnivindr.
You're too shocked to notice that he's picked up a fist sized rock until he smashes it into your temple.
******
Diluc sighs in relief as the Fatui agent crumples to the forest floor beside him. For a minute he really thought this was going to be his last fight, but something about him had distracted the agent long enough for him to act. He sits up and turns to watch as the power from the Delusion leaves the agents body and they return to normal.
Curious as to who almost took his life, Diluc reaches over and removes the agents mask only to fully understand the reaction they had to seeing him.
His world shatters around him as he stares down at the unconscious body of his friend. The friend he had some day hoped to make his partner.
He had been willing to kill the agent his was fighting to save y/n, completely unaware that was who was behind the mask the entire time. The thought made him sick to his stomach. Leaning over their limp body, Diluc checks for a pulse, letting out a huge sigh of relief when he found one. But the question now was what to do with them? He couldn't just leave them here in the woods of Wolvendom. But, now knowing that they were apparently working for both the Fatui and the Abyss, he couldn't just take them back to their house. He wasn't sure if he could trust y/n anymore. That thought broke his heart.
Not knowing what else to do, he grabs their cloak to put it back on them. Did they see me smell it? he thought, embarrassed, as he fastens it around their neck. Pulling the hood up and making sure the cloak covers their Fatui uniform, Diluc picks y/n up starts carrying them towards his house.
The whole walk back, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to one comment y/n had made during the fight.
I like it when you treat me rough…
******
Your head pounds in tandem with your heart as you start to regain consciousness. You let out a groan and struggle to open your eyes. Everything is blurry and the room seems to be spinning, which makes your stomach turn. You close your eyes as you pitch forward, only to have something stop you. You open your eyes slightly to see that your arms are bound to a wooden chair. Kicking your legs in frustration, you realize they're also tied tight to the chair. You growl and struggle with them, only to moan and let your head droop as the pain in your head doubles and your stomach turns again. You feel a gentle hand on the back of your head and hear the soft command "Drink," as a cup gets pressed to your lips.
You smell the wine before you take a large gulp of the alcohol, then another. You quickly drain the glass, cursing yourself slightly. It could have been poisoned. But if your captor wanted you dead, you would be. So that raised the question of what they wanted. You tried to remember what you had happened to you when your captor stepped around you to sit the glass down on the table across from you, and all your memories came flooding back.
Diluc turns to you and leans back against the table. His face is sad as he looks down at you, restrained in the chair. He says nothing as the two of you stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, he breaks. "Why?" He asks you, his voice cracking slightly.
"Diluc, I'm going to need a bit more clarification on what you want to know." You say bluntly. There's no reason to play dumb.
"I want to know the answer to everything. And please, don't lie to me anymore." That response was enough to drive a dagger into your cold, unfeeling heart.
"I'm a Fatui spy. My parents were born in Snezhnaya, technically I was too but the story was that I was born while they were on a business trip. My family has been spies for the Tsaritsa for generations."
"So that's how you got this?" Your stomach drops and your eyes widen as he holds up your Delusion. Your head was in so much pain that you didn't even notice it was gone.
"Diluc, please, give that back." You plead, straining against the binds holding you to the chair. You don't have a Vision that you could use to help you break free, and without your Delusion you were powerless. "Please!" He stares at you, his normally stoic face clearly showing his shock. "That was gifted to me directly from the Tsaritsa herself!" You explain, straining more.
"Finish explaining, then we'll see." He says, dropping his hand to his side. Your eyes follow your precious Delusion hungrily, longing to hold it in your hands again.
"We've lived in Mondstadt for years, no one knows we're not native to the region. We work in secret, I don't associate at all with the other agents who reside in the city." Your speech is strained and choppy as you watch his long fingers fiddle with your Delusion.
"So you've always been lying to me?" He says, his voice low.
Your eyes jump to his for the first time. "Not maliciously," you explain. "You weren't supposed to find out, Luc. I never wanted to hurt you."
"Then what about tonight!" He barks.
"I didn't know it was you! How would I?" You cry out. "You told me yourself that you didn't believe the stories of the Darknight Hero! I had no information to go off of! All I knew was the Abyss made me an incredible offer if I would take out the one person in Mondstadt who was hindering their plans!"
"What did they offer you?" He asks, making your eyes drop back down to your beautiful blue Delusion.
"More power…" You whispered.
"More power?"
"Yes! They swore they would add Abyssal energy to my Delusion to make me even more powerful! How could I say no?"
"Y/n…" He whispers sadly. Your eyes are still on your Delusion, so you can't see the heartbreak and pity on his face as he watches you staring hungrily at it. You look like an addict eyeing up your next fix. "Look at me," he requests. When you don't, he steps over and grabs you by the chin, forcing you to look up at him. The angle and position is incredibly suggestive, and both of you are very aware of that. You can't help the flutter you feel in your chest as he forces you around. He has to clear his throat before he continues. "I know the 'you' I've always known is not who I thought, but I know you're strong. You don't need this thing."
"Yes I do, Luc! You don't understand!"
"Trust me, I do. I used a Delusion myself for quite a while. I know how they wear you down, sap you of your emotions, make you dependent on them. I can’t imagine how you must feel, having used one for so long…” he trails off sadly, still looking down at you.
“I hardly feel anything, Diluc,” you confess softly. “I hate saying this, but… fighting you, that was the most emotion I’ve felt in a long time.” Your eyes are downcast and you miss the faint flush he gets as he once again recalls your comment during the fight. “But you’ve always had a habit of making me feel things.” You say the last part softly, half hoping he doesn’t hear you. But he did.
Releasing your chin, he takes a few steps back from you. “Y/n, I’m not just doing this for the safety of Mondstadt. I’m also doing this because I love you.” You don’t even have time to react to his statement before you’re screaming in horror as he drops your beloved Delusion to the floor and crushes it under his boot.
You scream out in agony. You curse Diluc. You throw so much of a fit that you end up tipping the chair over onto its side. He lets you there, on the floor and crying out in misery until your wails have turned into quiet sobs and your tears have mostly dried. Gently, he grabs the chair and sits you back upright. “How could you do that to me, Luc? You say you love me, but then you do that? And you have the nerve to call me a liar!” You spit at him.
“I told you I did it because I love you,” he says, crouching down in front of you and gently cupping your face as you glare at him. “Besides, you don’t need that thing to feel…” he trails off, seeming almost embarrassed. “Let me make you feel.” He finishes brazenly before pushing his mouth against yours.
You’re shocked for a few moments as his mouth moves against yours, but you come to your senses quickly and bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He jerks back from you, blood trickling down his chin as you lick it off of your lips. “You bastard,” you growl. You never thought you’d say this, but you hate him. You want to punch him. You want to slam him against the wall. You want him to pin you underneath his warm, heavy body as he fucks you senseless.
You want him.
He must see that realization on your face because he’s back, gripping your chin in his hand as he roughly kisses you. You suck on his lip, tasting the blood that you drew. His tongue darts into your mouth, tasting you. You bite that too, but not as hard. He moans into your mouth as his hands travel down to the bindings holding you in the chair. You shiver as he lightly runs his fingers down your arm. He pulls back from you and whispers huskily in your ear “I’d undo these ropes, but how do I know I can trust you?”
You pick up on what he’s doing and play along. “You don’t, but I guess that’s a risk you’re going to have to take,” you purr back. He growls softly and uses the heat from his vision to snap the ropes binding your arms and legs. The second you're free, you’re on your feet and pushing him towards the nearest wall. Concussion be damned, you were having Diluc.
He gasps as his back hits the wall, and he quickly follows it with a moan as you start sucking on his neck. His large hand grips the back of your head, holding you there for several moments before pulling you back. His mouth is back on yours and in an instant he has you pinned against the wall. His hands squeeze your hips, so you jump and wrap your legs around him. He presses his body against yours as he pins your hands above your head. The two of you are gasping and panting, small moans escaping the two of you as your bodies move against each other. Releasing your hands, he wraps his arms around you and walks to the table, laying you down on it. "What am I going to do with you?" His voice is deep and husky, his eyes full of lust as he stares down at you.
"Hopefully punish me," you say, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him down to you. In all the years you've known Diluc, he'd always been stoic and deliberate. A man full of resolve and self control. But that night, you saw a different side to him. Animalistic and wild. One could even say feral. You loved being the reason he lost all control. It gave you a feeling of power that your Delusion never could.
#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin pov#genshin x reader#diluc ragnivindr#genshin diluc#diluc x reader#diluc angst#gn reader#gn y/n#Youtube
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A romantic date in Paris (Hirai Momo x Male reader)
The romantic ambiance of Paris was in full bloom as Y/N and Momo strolled hand in hand through the charming streets of the city. It was a rare opportunity for them to spend quality time together while Momo was on tour with TWICE, and Y/N was determined to make the most of it. Tonight, he had something special planned for their date.
As they approached the iconic Eiffel Tower, Momo's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Y/N, this is amazing! I've always dreamt of visiting the Eiffel Tower."
Y/N smiled warmly at her enthusiasm. "I knew you'd love it. Let's go up and enjoy the breathtaking view."
They ascended the tower, the city of Paris twinkling beneath them like a sea of stars. The sight took Momo's breath away, and she leaned against the railing, gazing out at the city with wonder.
"It's even more beautiful than I imagined," she whispered.
Y/N couldn't resist, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss against her cheek. "Just like you," he murmured.
Momo blushed, her heart racing, and she turned to meet his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. The city lights seemed to fade into the background as they lost themselves in the moment.
After they descended from the tower, Y/N led Momo to a luxurious hotel where she had access to a private pool. The pool area was beautifully lit, and soft music played in the background as they changed into swimsuits.
The water felt refreshing as they dipped their toes in. Momo let out a contented sigh. "This is perfect, Y/N."
They swam, splashed, and laughed, enjoying each other's company without a care in the world. As the night wore on, they settled in the warm poolside lounge chairs, wrapped in plush towels.
Momo looked at Y/N, her eyes filled with affection. "Y/N, I've had an incredible time tonight. Thank you for making this date so special."
He reached out to take her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Momo. You deserve every moment of happiness."
As they talked about their dreams and aspirations, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of intimacy that they cherished. And then, Y/N couldn't help himself; he leaned in for another kiss, a slow and passionate one that deepened their connection.
But just as their kiss grew more intense, Momo's phone rang loudly, breaking the spell. She pulled away, her eyes wide with alarm. "Oh no, I forgot to put it on silent!"
Y/N tried to hide his disappointment, and he nodded. "It's okay, Momo. You should answer it."
Momo picked up her phone, and her expression turned from confusion to concern as she listened to the voice on the other end. "What? How did they...? Okay, I understand."
She hung up the call and turned to Y/N, her face pale. "Y/N, we've been seen together by paparazzi, and the news is spreading like wildfire in the K-pop industry. I'm so nervous about what this could mean for my career."
Y/N could see the worry in her eyes, and he knew he needed to be her rock in this moment. He gently cupped her face and pressed a reassuring kiss to her lips. "Momo, we'll face this together. No matter what happens, I'm here for you."
Momo's anxiety began to ease as she looked into his eyes, her trust in him unwavering. She nodded, taking a deep breath.
Just then, her phone rang again, and this time, it was JYP Entertainment's CEO, Park Jinyoung, on the line. Her heart raced as she answered the call.
"Hello, Mr. Park," she greeted nervously.
"Hello, Momo," he replied calmly. "I'm aware of the situation, and I've called you to discuss it further. Can you and Y/N come to my office tomorrow morning?"
Momo exchanged a glance with Y/N, her worry returning. "Yes, Mr. Park. We'll be there."
The following morning, Momo and Y/N arrived at JYP Entertainment's office, nerves coursing through them. They were ushered into Mr. Park's office, where he sat behind his desk, studying them carefully.
"Momo, Y/N," he began, "I want to make it clear that I value your happiness and privacy. However, given the circumstances, we need to address this situation carefully."
Momo nodded, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. Y/N placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Mr. Park continued, "I've spoken with the media outlets involved, and I've managed to keep the situation from escalating further. We can't control what's already out there, but we can control our response moving forward."
Y/N and Momo listened intently as Mr. Park outlined a plan to manage the situation, including issuing a statement acknowledging their relationship and asking for privacy.
As the meeting came to an end, Mr. Park looked at them with a soft smile. "Remember, Momo, your personal life is your own. But as your company, we're here to support you and Y/N."
Momo's eyes brimmed with gratitude as she nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Park."
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Loki, of Fire, of Change, of Chaos
Disclaimer: This may or may not have been triggered by seeing a post going around. This is ALSO very much my own very unique personal perception of Loki, and how I tend to explain Loki and my relationship with Loki to others.
So I have always experienced Loki as fire, when he's present beyond the quirk of my lips as I try and decide whether I'm cussing him, or laughing at his prank, or a strange mix of both, it's always that sensastion of warmth you'd get from a blaze, contained in a hearth. It's a comforting feeling - I can feel it now. Apparently they're rather entertained I'm even writing this about them.
But this for me comes with a balance. Loki has always been about change, about nurturing new habits. Good habits. About being true to myself, and that has always come with the knowledge that just like that warm fire trapped in the hearth, safe and contained, sometimes you need to step away from the idea of fire being this warm safe thing.
Sometimes its loud. Sometimes its destructive. Sometimes it rages like a wildfire. If a hearth fire is akin to passionate love, and care and nurture, the forces of change when ignored - or left to run uncheck will destroy things. But for me this is oddly fine. Sometimes you need that wildfire, or that untamed raging volcano (though that for me is always more Sutrs area, and not a deity I work with), to run through, destroy things - no matter how painful it is at the time - because then in the ash and destruction, the blackened wastes of what you thought you needed only to realise what you don't need and need to destroy utterly to ensure that you don't go back to a thing that no longer serves you, you find new growth. Little green shoots popping up, thriving, fed by the ash of what was.
You discover new aspects of yourself you maybe didn't know. These reasons combine to why for me Loki is always intrinsically linked with Fire. Along with the fact that fire always has this mischievous energy to it, and just like Loki - and I say this with all affection for them - has that warning. Mishandled, ignored, or otherwise just on a whim should a stray spark leap and hit a dry bush. Fire can go from being this nurturing source of warmth to a force of destruction. Fire at it's core is change. Loki for me is change, a change to improve myself.
This has always been the case for me, and always how my personal relationship with Loki has been. They're the deity that had me draw triple death from one tarot deck. The one card that is all about change and rebirth.
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ATHENS, Greece (AP) — Tourists at the Acropolis this holiday season can witness the resolution of one of the world’s most heated debates on cultural heritage.All they need is a smartphone.Visitors can now pinch and zoom their way around the ancient Greek site, with a digital overlay showing how it once looked. That includes a collection of marble sculptures removed from the Parthenon more than 200 years ago that are now on display at the British Museum in London. Greece has demanded they be returned.For now, an app supported by Greece’s Culture Ministry allows visitors to point their phones at the Parthenon temple, and the sculptures housed in London appear back on the monument as archaeologists believe they looked 2,500 years ago.Other, less widely known features also appear: Many of the sculptures on the Acropolis were painted in striking colors. A statue of goddess Athena in the main chamber of the Parthenon also stood over a shallow pool of water.“That's really impressive ... the only time I've seen that kind of technology before is at the dentist,” Shriya Parsotam Chitnavis, a tourist from London, said after checking out the app on a hot afternoon at the hilltop Acropolis, Greece's most popular archaeological site.“I didn't know much about the (Acropolis), and I had to be convinced to come up here. Seeing this has made it more interesting — seeing it in color,” she said. “I'm more of a visual person, so this being interactive really helped me appreciate it.”The virtual restoration works anywhere and could spare some visitors the crowded uphill walk and long wait to see the iconic monuments up close. It might also help the country's campaign to make Greek cities year-round destinations.Tourism, vital for the Greek economy, has roared back since the COVID-19 pandemic, even as wildfires chased visitors from the island of Rhodes and affected other areas this summer. The number of inbound visitors from January through July was up 21.9% to 16.2 million compared with a year ago, according to the Bank of Greece. Revenue was up just over 20%, to 10.3 billion euros ($10.8 billion).The app, called “Chronos” after the mythological king of the Titans and Greek word for “time,” uses augmented reality to place the ancient impression of the site onto the screen, matching the real-world view as you walk around.AR is reaching consumers after a long wait and is set to affect a huge range of professional and leisure activities.Medical surgery, military training and specialized machine repair as well as retail and live event experiences are all in the sights of big tech companies betting on a lucrative future in immersive services. Tech giant like Meta and Apple are pushing into VR headsets that can cost thousands of dollars.The high price tag will keep the cellphone as the main AR delivery platform to consumers for some time, said Maria Engberg, co-author of the book “Reality Media” on augmented and virtual reality.She says services for travelers will soon offer a better integrated experience, allowing for more sharing options on tours and overlaying archive photos and videos.“AR and VR have been lagging behind other kinds of things like games and movies that we’re consuming digitally,” said Engberg, an associate professor of computer science and media technology at Malmo University in Sweden.“I think we will see really interesting customer experiences in the next few years as more content from museums and archives becomes digitized,” she said.Greece’s Culture Ministry and national tourism authority are late but enthusiastic converts to technology. The popular video game Assassin’s Creed Odyssey, which allows players to roam ancient Athens, was used to attract young travelers from China to Greece with a state-organized photo contest.Microsoft partnered with the Culture Ministry two years ago to launch an immersive digital tour at ancient Olympia, birthplace of the Olympic Games in southern Greece.Culture Minister Lina Mendoni said the innovations
would boost accessibility to Greece’s ancient monuments, supplementing the recent installation of ramps and anti-slip pathways.“Accessibility is extending to the digital space,” Mendoni said at a preview launch event for the Chronos app in May. “Real visitors and virtual visitors anywhere around the world can share historical knowledge.”Developed by Greek telecoms provider Cosmote, the free app's designers say they hope to build on existing features that include an artificial intelligence-powered virtual guide, Clio.“As technologies and networks advance, with better bandwidth and lower latencies, mobile devices will be able to download even higher-quality content,” said Panayiotis Gabrielides, a senior official at the telecom company involved in the project.Virtual reconstructions using Chronos also cover three other monuments at the Acropolis, an adjacent Roman theater and parts of the Acropolis Museum built at the foot of the rock.___ AP photographer Petros Giannakouris in Athens contributed.
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Mmmm shower thoughts 🚿🚿
Bakugou x reader
WARNING: the fic takes place in the shower, so obviously they're both naked but there's no smut
Enjoy sweets!
[Unedited]
The argument.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
It all started with an argument over who was going to make dinner for tonight. You had come home, tired and not wanting to make dinner. So, you expected Bakugou to make it. Then he came home, tired and was expecting dinner on the table already.
"I thought you were going to make dinner." The match lighted up and soon became a massive wildfire that spread rapidly. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Untrue words spitted out at eachother in anger, tiredness, and hunger. Stomping away afterwards into your shared bedroom, him sitting alone on the couch, still rambling about whatever it was you two were arguing about. It was now later, way past dinner time and you still haven't talked. He then came into the room, ugly scowl still etched onto his face as he asked the fateful question:
"Who's gonna shower first?"
Another, but smaller, argument insued about who was going to shower first. You argued about how you take too long in the shower "taking your sweet damn time!" and how bakugou wastes all of the shampoo in one shower, so you should shower first, since you waste less. The argument went on for about ten minutes until you had yelled out at this point,
"FINE YOU KNOW WHAT WHY DONT WE JUST SHOWER TOGETHER"
"FINE"
you both had quickly stripped of yourselves and raced to the washroom, you getting there first and turning on the knob to your desired temperature.
"Argh! Fuck why do you put the shower so damn hot!?" Bakugou cried out when the water hit his skin.
"Oh shut it you big baby." You spoke annoyingly at him, wanting to think more about your less recent argument.
The small area had been quickly engulfed in awkwardness as you both did your duties in the shower. With this awkwardness, gave you both time to think over of what had happened.
While scrubbing his hair in the shower, he thought about what he said to you. It was pretty mean to say that you were lazy and acted like a cat all the time. You worked so hard everyday, and he realized that now.
You also thought while you washed your face. It was also quite rude to say that he was such a baby that needed to be pampered all the time. He wasn't one, you both had cooked before and he always did his part. You realized that now too.
You both realized the mean and truly unnecessary things you said to eachother, and how it would've affected the other person.
He moved over and let you wash your face off as he put the conditioner on.
This all could've been solved if you just ordered take out for dinner.
He stared at you, pressuring guilt building inside the both of you as you stood beside eachother, water still running and keeping your bodies wet.
Bakugous mind ran with thoughts on how he could apologize to you until he was interrupted by a sniffle.
He looked at you and even though the tears were camouflaged by the water, he could tell you were crying by your expression. You were looking away and cowering slightly as you held your arm awkwardly.
"I-im sorry." You croaked out, quietly.
He looked at you, quietness overwhelmed him as he didn't know what to say.
"I was... just stressed out from today a-and...I-I didn't mean to say all those things to you, I'm...sorry." You spoke again, more louder this time.
You were always so stubborn when it came to apologies, because like him, you didn't like to admit you were wrong. But he was comforted by that as well. To know that you're trying to talk to him about it, instead of bottling it up.
You expected something similar to an "okay" and that was it. What you didn't expect was for him to say-
"I'm sorry too." You heard his voice, calm and quivering quietly.
"I also shouldn't have said those things to you too and...i-im sorry." He said, tears gathered in his eyes, covered by the pattering water.
You were the more emotional one of the two when it came to arguments but Bakugou was up there in emotions too. You were an emotional mess of a couple, let's put it that way. You were still looking away, guilt still hiding onto you but you didn't resist when he gently grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms around you. He expected you to do the same. And you did.
You held tightly onto eachother as a last form of apology, tears sliping from both of your eyes as Bakugou leaned down a bit a kissed the top of your head, the guilt now dissipating with the hot fog of the shower. He continued kissing your head and in return, you began to kiss his neck. More specifically, the more ticklish spot on his neck. You knew this was the spot when you began to feel a small laugh bubble up his throat and a small smile growing on his face.
"Pfft- stop that." He said, a small laugh coming out of him afterwards.
"Mmmno." You said, playfully as you continued to kiss this sweet spot of his.
He began to laugh even more as you did too, happiness erupting from the two of you as you both had a tickle war in the shower. You still questioned how neither of you slipped, but it was whatever now. You then finished up showering, with smiles on the both of your faces and the decision to order McDonald's, as you still haven't eaten dinner yet and you were starving.
#bakugou katsuki#anime#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#mha#bakugou x reader fluff#i love him#i legit just finished showering and this just popped intk my head lmfao#idk if it makes sense or not#♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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Pfiffner Traverse
I wanted to wrap up my sabbatical with a long solo backpacking trip. Something that would be interesting and challenging. Backpacking, for me, can be physically hard but spiritually restful. My soul recharges when I'm in God's creation, away from devices, technology and manmade stuff, and when I'm pushed to rely on God in new ways.
So, I decided to do the southern half of the Pfiffner Traverse (PT) last week. The PT is 78-mile backpacking route that follows the crest of Colorado’s Front Range between Rocky Mountain National Park and Berthoud Pass along the Continental Divide. Here's how backpacking guru Andrew Skurka describes it:
As an end-to-end effort, the Pfiffner Traverse is an expert-level project, requiring excellent physical fitness and backcountry skills, plus a favorable weather window. Forty percent of its length is off-trail, up to Class 3 in difficulty. Oxygen is always in short supply: the route drops below 10,000 feet only twice, and it climbs five 13,000-foot peaks. Vertical change is never-ending, with 760 feet of climbing or descending per mile. And there are no convenient resupply opportunities.
Of course, the effort is entirely worthwhile: the Pfiffner Traverse spans a gem of the Colorado Rockies. It ascends airy peaks and passes, remains atop vista-filled ridgelines (and a few knife-edges), follows elk trails through deep canyons, passes by numerous alpine lakes and wildflower-covered meadows, and avoids but a few short bushwhacks. It remains continuously immersed in wilderness.
Northern parts of the route were affected by last year's wildfires and a huge wind storm that blew down huge sections of trees making some trails (and off-trail areas) almost impassable. So I decided to do the southern half of the route, starting at Brainard Lake and ending at Berthoud Pass.
Lots of planning went into it (figuring out permits, water, navigating weather concerns, planning food, etc.) I won't bore you with the details. The trip ended up being five days, 43 miles of hiking, and about 15,000 feet of vertical ascent (with 15'000 feet of vertical descent too!) A few highlights marked the trip:
1. Going ultra-light. For the past few years, I've been focusing on minimalism in backpacking (and life!) I've paired down my gear to the lightest and best equipment which makes a huge difference on a long trip at high altitude. The danger is always taking more stuff than you really need and overburdening yourself. Lots of life lessons here. Food is one of the biggest challenges because it will be the heaviest item in your pack on Day 1. So I put together my own ultra-light meals (following several of Andrew's great recipes). At the beginning of the trip, with all food and gear, my pack weighed 23.5 pounds total. To put that in perspective, when I backpacked the Grand Canyon 20 years ago on a five day trip (with roughly similar weather conditions), my pack weighed three times as much.
2. Backcountry off-trail navigation. Large sections of the route are off trail. Meaning, I hiked through forests, across tundra and talus fields, and over ridges where I just had to follow the map to get me where I needed to go. There's a wildness about hiking off trail. In the high country, it can be dangerous because there are all kinds of obstacles to navigate (like steep scree slopes and cliffs). And there aren't any other people, signs, or markers to give you confidence. You have to really know what you're doing and trust yourself. And pray a lot when you're unsure. :)
3. The Northeast Gully. On Day 2, I faced the first significant challenge (and the hardest challenge on the whole Pfiffner Traverse) - getting over a massive ridge from one valley to another by going up what is called the Northeast Gully. There's no trail here; you just have to navigate this route based on the map and what someone else has said will work. It was super steep (about 2000' in less than a mile) and took longer than expected. And of course, no one else was around (I went about 24 hours without seeing a single person).
4. The final day. It was a push. I started at Heart Lake, which is just below Rogers Pass. The goal: to climb up and over James Peak (a 13er), then down and back up and over Mt. Bancroft (another 13er), then down and back up and over Parry Peak (another 13er), then down and back up and over Mt. Eva (another 13er), then down and back up and over Mt. Flora (another 13er) and then down to the Berthoud Pass parking lot where Janis would pick me up. That's five 13ers to summit in one 10 mile span, about 4800' of vertical ascent and descent, all way above treeline, with no places for water or shelter along the way in case of bad weather.
The night before, I had gotten rain, thunder, and lightning at my camping spot, so I was a bit spooked about the final day's push. As a rule in Colorado, you don't want to be above treeline after lunch, when clouds start forming and lightning can come out of nowhere. I was also tired--Day 5 and my legs and lungs were pretty worn out after so much hiking, mostly at 11,000-12,000 feet elevation. So I got up at 4:45am, left camp by 5:30 with my headlamp on (the sun was just coming up). I summitted all five 13ers (up and down and up and down...) and made it to the Berthoud Pass parking lot by 12:30pm. Janis offered to take me to Beau Jo's on the way home but I was so tired, I didn't even want to eat. :)
Here are a few pics:
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Finally after a few days, I caught up with the Inazuma story quest. I had a lot of thoughts on it so I wanted to make a post on how I generally feel about it. So without further ado, here I go.
Spoilers for the 2.0 update below the cut.
As with most Genshin characters, the main characters introduced in Inazuma are great so far. Thoma (still hate how they spelled his name in the english ver. but o well) may loom like 'a Childe copy' but nope. He's just a huge dork and i love him for that. Yoimiya won me over with her design months ago, but getting to meet her in the story and her story quest made me warm up to her more. And i wasn't feeling Ayaka, and while I'm still skipping her banner she grew on me a lot more than I expected. Gorou & Kokomi I haven't quite warmed up to yet, but I love their designs and I hope part 3 we get to know them better.
A lot of the new puzzles and world quest are really fun and interesting to do. The eletrogana puzzles are a welcome edition, and I feel like it captured that early feeling in g3enshin of just exploring the world of Teyvat.
The Story quest is going in a really interesting direction. We got to know a more on how the Sakoku Decree is affecting Inazuma both as an industry and for foreigners trying to get by there. Not to mention we get to see firsthand how the Vision Hunt Decree affect people and it isn't pretty.
The Raiden Shogun is a TERRIFYING antagonist and and interesting foil to the two archons we've met beforehand, Barbatos & Rex Lapis. The fact she's your first fight against ANY archon was a welcome surprise (and freaked me out that entire bossfight). The way her expression went from cold fury to just, a stone emotionless face as she was about to give divine retribution to the Traveler was chilling. I really want to find out where her character goes and why she's so adamant about this 'eternity' she's looking for.
I love the incorporation of Japanese legends & cultures in the region so far. The Tanuki that pop up around the island, the Kistune myth around the Sakura Cleansing ritual, the fact Kuojo Sara's look represents the Tengu, its all so nice.
The music is FANTASTIC in Inazuma. It perfect captures the stillness & quiet feel some parts of Inazuma give off, and a good number of the battle themes have gotten stuck in my head. It reminds me of the first time I got to Liyue and heard 'rapid as the Wildfires.' If only I could listen to the soundtrack right now bvut it'll take a few months for them to add Inazuma's music.
The End part of Part or of the story quest got me HYPED. The cutscene with Gorou and the resistance fighting Sara & the Shoganate was pretty well choregraphed. and BEIDOU & KAZUHA COMING IN at the last second was just, AMAZING. Part 3 can't come soon enough.
Teppei is our hype-man and I pray to the other archons nothing bad happens to him. Please he just want to fight for his home ;-;
TAUROMARU is PRECIOUS. I'd visit the Komore Teahouse just to see him. i love him alot ;v;
Stuff that were, eh and could use some work
The difficulty spike, while wasn't too bad for me personally, is a little much. I'm glad I have Diluc to carry me thru most of the tough enemies, but most of the new ronin & samurai enemies can make short work of my team. The World bosses aren't any better and even my toughest team has trouble beating them.
Some areas, fitting for Inazuma, feel dangerous & unfriendly. The Thunder tree that zap you when you get too close , for example, freaked me out the 1st time it one shotted my Ganyu. Some puzzles can be fun, but when it involves trying not to get electrocuted it reminds me of Dragonspire & It's cold mechanic. it fits the tone of Inazuma but man it makes me paranoids exploring.
Other that the few Inazuma character that grew on me, I'm not feeling the other NPC'S and people of Inazuma. Maybe it's how the locals treat foreigners or just the attitude but I kinda perfer the attitude of Mondstadt. It might just be because of how loyal the people are to their archon but everyone just feels like an asshole :/
Even though I praised the Raiden Shogun as a antagonist, right now I don't really care about her as a character as of now. She come off as a Tyrant who care more about this 'eternity' that's still pretty vague rn than the wellbeing of her people. It makes her a good contrast to Venti, who was pretty hands off with ruling Mondstadt and Zhongli, who while also greatly revered by his people was willing to test his them to ensure they would be fine without him. Her design is beautiful, but until we get clarity on why she's embedding her people's vison in a statue of herself and wants the Travelers head i'm not sure how I feel about her as of now.
Sara's kind of in the same boat for me right now, but that's mostly because of how little she'd appear so far in the story. I did like how they'd showed she's not completely ruthless(her threatening the shoganate who tortured the Masakatsu fellow whiel letting him escape to get medical attention and her allowing the strongest in the Shonganate army to face the Traveler) but her action show she is very loyal to the shogun. until 2.1 explains why she's so loyal and her reasons other than being adopted into the Kuoju clan she's ok at best to me.
I felt like Part 1 and 2 of Inazuma felt kinda unbalance in terms of pacing. I get that in part 1 we had to go thru the tedious progress of getting IN, it felt wayyy too long compared to part 2, which felt, you could say, lighting fast. Bad pun aside, I did feel like some part could've been paced better, but its not that bad.
I did get a lil' bit annoyed at how the Traveler refused to help end the Vision Hunt Decree initially. I understand that their goal is ultimately to reunite with their sibling, but way they expect would happen when they meet Baal??? Walk right up to her and be like 'hey have you seen someone who looks like me but with an army of abyssal soldiers? Please and Thank you.' Cus from how quickly we got on her hitlist, that's not gonna happen, at least not yet. It's pretty minor in comparison but it was kinda an odd choice.
Overall I'm enjoying Inazuma and I hope 2.1 brings more good stuff.
untill then tho, I'll wait for Yoimiya.
#genshin rambles#spoilers#genshin spoilers#genshin 2.0 spoilers#long post#man that took awhile to write#but im glad i got thru#yoimiya please come home soon#nation of eternity [inazuma]
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The wildfires definitely suck baby cakes that's for sure. I'm not in that specific area, but I have been affected by fires and it is not fun
Oh baby cakes I’m so sorry to hear that I can’t even imagine. The only time I’ve ever been affected by fire was in our kitchen. Once when I was warming up the oven and didn’t realize there was a bag of chips in there, and the second time we were making dinner and our burner went haywire and burned the bottom of our pan off.
But def not as scary as those kind of fires
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