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levi-my-beloved · 2 years

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Til Death Do Us Part (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Pairing: Canon!Levi x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.5K (it's a long one lads...)

Warnings: none? I don't think? just... sadness and canon typical violence

A/N: ahhhh, the long awaited reunion twenty thousand words later... y'all i kinda love writing this fic imma be honest

Taglist: @maries-gallery @peace-for-levi @levmada @elizaack @mamadoe @4evahevah @nirvana-jam-94 @galactict3a @swirrley

It was cooler up here. Away from the stuffy crowds and air thick with the stench of exotic spices and foods. For the most part, you’d enjoyed what you could of the festival, though the food did make your stomach a little dodgy. You’re pretty sure, even before you lost your memories, you didn’t eat many rich dishes. Not that you minded. Most of them were too much for you anyway.

You’d spent the better part of the day watching Gabi and Falco drain Reiner’s wallet, to everyone else’s amusement. The man couldn’t help but give in to those puppy eyes. He even bought you something, which you weren’t expecting. He always looked at you differently. Not like the others, who’d come to accept you were probably different from before, but Reiner looked at you as if he couldn’t forget. As if an old version of you haunted him, and he couldn’t let go. You hoped, one day, he would. He would let go of whatever he was holding onto. He deserved to. Nobody deserved to feel whatever kind of guilt he was harbouring.

You stretched your knee out in front of you, the crouch having your joint cramping a little. You’d been up here for the best part of an hour, waiting for all the officials, militants and civilians to file into the internment zone. They were going to declare war on Eldia, where the Eldians live. It didn’t sit right with you. Of course you’d heard of the island devils but… were they really devils? Even after having the history explained to you time and time again, you just found it hard to justify. These people didn’t do anything, they weren’t responsible for their ancestor’s mistakes.

Then you remember why you lost your memories. Why you only had four years in your head. And all that understanding is thrown out the window, replaced by a searing rage. It was their fault. No, actually, that’s wrong. It wasn’t their anything. The existence of Levi Ackerman directly caused your memory loss. He was the reason. And you were more than content to wipe him out. Him and his entire godforsaken bloodline. You’d done some research, how couldn’t you. Of course the military archives had information on bloodlines, and though it was classified information, one whisper of your name and those librarians opened their doors for you.

Ackerman. A superhuman bloodline created from the experimentation of titan spinal fluid. You couldn’t help but choke a scoff. Something you two seemed to have in common, then. You’d scanned the page, reading something about accessing the strength of previous members of the bloodline. Superhuman strength didn’t sit right with you. Actually, it pissed you off. Who the fuck was entitled to that kind of thing? Did he even have to train? Or was he just naturally strong? You guessed you wouldn’t know until you faced him.

Willy Tybur’s voice had been falling on your deaf ears for a few minutes now as you were pulled from your mind. Hand falling down to your gear, you checked over it once more. Marleyan engineers had modified the original model to suit your strengths. It was smaller than the gear Zeke returned with. Lighter, too. And the two blades currently sheathed at your sides weren’t sharpened for titan killing. They were slightly thicker, less brittle. You didn’t know how they’d done it either, but the handles had three triggers. One for your anchors, one for the gas, and one for a bullet. They’d fixed a revolver just below the junction between the blade and the hilt. It didn’t interfere with your grip, and with a single pull of a trigger, you’d suddenly brought a gun to a knife fight.

Letting loose a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, you started to think Zeke was wrong. Maybe Yeager wasn’t here? Maybe those islanders were nowhere near you, and in fact, there was no reason for you to be up here in the first place. Maybe Ackerman wasn’t coming. Pieck had given you the strangest look earlier, when you mentioned you had something to take care of. You just hoped she’d understand if there was an attack. And if there wasn’t… you hadn’t really gotten that far yet, but you’d think of some explanation. You stared at your visor next to you, the black leather both aided your stealth and kept your identity somewhat ambiguous to enemy personnel. Everybody in Liberio knew who you were, of course. But anyone else beyond those borders was blissfully unaware, only being familiar with Marley’s Dagger.

You rolled up your tight sleeve, checking your watch. The minute hand faintly ticked in the suddenly still air.

“...to the enemy forces of Paradis– a declaration of war!”

It was first the shattering of glass, the cracking and crumbling of brick, before your eyes widened as you bore witness to the Attack Titan bursting through the bottom of the stage. Tybur didn’t look surprised, from what your horror stricken mind could tell. Terrified, maybe, but not surprised. You felt for the man as you slid your visor over your head, the dark glass falling just below your nose. He knew he would likely die.

You schooled your expression as Eren Yeager tossed Willy Tybur above him, and straight into his gaping maw. With a single swallow, the man was gone. You clenched your jaw. This was it. Yeager was here, and where Yeager was…

Those islanders won’t be far behind.

Your heart pulsed in your throat. You hated being powerless. Powerless to sit and watch as the Founding Titan turned towards the stall of military officials, and ran. Powerless to sit and watch as he crushed them beneath his body, taking out Command in a single blow. You just prayed Magath wasn’t in there, although the Chief was a resourceful man, and no doubt would have perhaps seen this coming. He was most likely already setting up some sort of retaliation. At least, that’s what you hoped.

It took all of your willpower to sit and wait. You had a clear line of sight to his nape. You could, if you wanted to, kill him. You could save Liberio all this death and grief if you could just–

Yellow lightning. Even from behind your visor, the flash was searing. The smallest, relieved smile pulled at your lips. Guess Willy wasn’t the Warhammer after all, like most people expected. You certainly had your suspicions about the man, but the slow formation of a titan skeleton swiftly blew away those suspicions. You still had the Warhammer, there was still hope for you. Your eyes flicked to the Attack, the enemy, kneeling there amongst rubble and bloodied corpses, staring at Marley’s hope.

Your hands itched for your blades at the sickening crack of muscle and bone as Eren Yeager’s fist collided with the still forming head of the Warhammer. You weren’t sure what the holder’s name was. Lara, if your memory served you correctly, Willy’s youngest sister. Your stomach twisted at the continued punishment her titan took. Time and time again, hardened fists collided with her face, red muscle bending and warping beneath the force of the blows. Well… this was it. Despite Zeke already suspecting this would happen… you’d failed. Wait, where the fuck was–

Your breath hitched as a pillar of hardened crystal pierced from the ground, right through the Founder’s torso. You were only vaguely familiar with the Warhammer’s power set, only being exposed to the Armoured, Beast, Cart and Jaw titans. You didn’t fully understand what the Warhammer could do, or why it was so powerful. Until now. This was why the Tybur family held this specific titan. Because of its ability to create whatever it needed at will. You watched as Lara Tybur stood, a silvery shell now completing her transformation. Lightning crackled in her outstretched hand, before a hammer the height of a building formed in her grip, the jagged head angled back behind her.

It was a sight to behold, a titan fight like this. If it wasn’t such a life or death situation, you’d probably marvel at it more. You held your breath as she swung, releasing it just before Eren punched through the spire, freeing himself from its grip and landing the opposite side of the stadium, a spire impaling his middle. His nape… it was right there. Right in front of you. Once again you hands reached for your blades–

“FIRE!”

Your head whipped to the side. How the fuck hadn’t you noticed the anti-titan guns lined up on the rooftops? At least you knew you were right. Magath did have a plan. The thought filled you with relief as the prattle of canonfire burst your ears, Eren now a hopeless wreck against the force of your machinery. The bastard held his hardened hands against his nape now, preventing you from even trying to make an attack. Not that you would anyway. Eren might have been Marley’s enemy, but you had another target. Zeke too, if he was to be believed. And once again, from the stories you’d heard, why would he lie?

Once again you watched as Eren squared up to the Warhammer, fists raised before him as she drew back her weapon, and swung. With sick satisfaction, you noticed even with his skin hardened to crystal, it was nothing against the sheer strength and power of the Warhammer, and cut straight through his limbs, removing his head. Steam erupted from his nape, as the war criminal revealed himself. There he was, long dark hair whipping around his stubbled face. So… that was Eren Yeager.

The Warhammer withdrew once again. “Usurper, Eren Yeager… Do you have… Any last words?” this was it. Shit, this was it. Lara was going to kill him. Why doesn’t she eat him instead? Gain the Founder back for Marley and win this war before it had even started.

That was until the hiss of gas permeated the air. Until explosions rang out to your side. Until the nape of the Warhammer was alight in fire and smoke, and she fell to the ground.

They were here. They’d come. And they’d already taken out most of your defences. You felt so useless up here. Waiting, waiting, waiting for the signal. The word. The girl who fired those explosive spears had taken Eren to one of the watchtowers shedding light on the situation below.

Shit, she was good. Those movements, that agility. You watched her go toe to toe with the Warhammer, and to your absolute horror, she was winning. She was faster, lighter, firing off those spears at every opportunity. A well placed shot to the titan’s face and she went down, Lara’s left eye now a cloud of steam. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Another flash of light, and Eren was back in his titan form, fist shoved beneath the surface of the stage, as if… as if searching… searching for–

“No…” you couldn’t help your whisper of despair when the crystal of the Warhammer was triumphantly yanked from the stage, the chord from Lara’s cocoon ripped. And with the connection between her and her titan now severed, the Warhammer fell uselessly to the ground. Your only hope now was that he couldn’t bite through that shell. Or that would have been your only hope if not for the Jaw titan, a mere leap away.

Your heart soared. Finally, finally they were here. They’d made it! Porco leapt from the side of the building, his bone tipped claws wrenching the Founder’s head to the side as his jaws clamped down on his nape. This was it. This was it. This was–

What the hell just happened…?

A streak of blood flew from the side of Porco’s jaw, but you barely saw why. If your eyes hadn't been so trained on the two titans, you would have missed it. That flash of green, and a silvery swish of steel. Porco’s jaw had been severed. He couldn’t bite. Even from this far away, you could see, or maybe sense, the fear in his eyes.

Fuck the signal. Fuck Zeke. You wouldn’t let Porco die. You wouldn’t let any of them die. They were your comrades for fuck sakes. Your friends. The people who had lifted you up at your lowest points. None of them were dying on your watch. Shooting your anchors, you engaged your own gas and leapt from the rooftop, shooting straight for the arm that held Porco. A flash of your own steel, the whipping of wind in the lower half of your face, you bent backwards in a low limbo beneath the outstretched arm of Eren Yeager. Anchors hooking into the brick behind, you zipped beneath Porco’s leaping form and up onto the rooftop, landing deftly onto his shoulder.

“I’m with you Galliard.” was all you said, the grip on your blades tightening as you pointed them towards the oncoming swarm. You wouldn’t reveal them, not yet. You wouldn’t fire. But they got closer. Your masked eyes met those of blue storms. Sharp face and angular features, a scowl of thunder, raven hair swept back. Any doubt in your mind washed away. It was him. That was Levi Ackerman. Seething revenge broiled in your gut as you shifted your stance from the Jaw Titan’s shoulder, preparing to meet him halfway. You would tear him apart before he even got close to Galliard. Or any of the others, for that matter. Fingers hovering over your triggers, you were glad you hesitated briefly as gun fire once again littered the skies. Golden orbs of flame rattling from above.

In the split second of distraction, you missed the face of recognition, steel eyes landing on your gear, before he was gone. “Fuck!” you hissed, briefly looking around for any sign, before Galliard titled his head to you. You tapped a fist to the side of his head, before once again leaping off. Gas hissed behind you as you twisted through wreckage and ruin for Pieck’s location. Your head once again whipped to the side, yet another flash of yellow light as Lara used the last of her strength. It wasn’t enough to pierce his nape, but Eren Yeager was once again caught up in a trap of crystal, his hardened forearm blocking the last of Lara’s attacks. She was spent, you could tell. If she had anymore strength, she would have–

The earth shaking thunder of heavy footsteps stopped you in your tracks. Once again, hope rekindled in your heart as you landed at Pieck’s side. He was here. Zeke. The Beast. The War Chief.

Oh they were fucked now.

“Took your damn time,” you grinned to yourself, but that relief was short-lived as all hell broke loose. You couldn’t help but jump into the fray. Those spear wielding bastards soared above you, so you took care of them, your anchors piercing flesh and bone as your blades sliced through throat and gut. Blood stained your gear, your hands and face, metal singing on your tastebuds as another islander went down. You were glad for Pieck’s arrival as another two went for Zeke’s nape, only to be shot out of the sky in a cloud of crimson. Porco joined the Cart not too soon after, gathering below where you fought. You took Galliard’s brief glance up at you as a sign for you to join them. Flipping back to your feet, you skidded to a halt between the two titans.

“Stay on guard, we ran into Ackerman a second ago, why didn’t you take him out?” Porco’s eyes were wide, his titan marks raw around his face as he looked at you. You flipped up your mask.

“Zeke predicted this. He knew this was going to happen, he mentioned it to me beforehand,” you could tell both Pieck and Porco wanted to know why the fuck you didn’t tell any of them, and saved them of this bullshit. “Look, Zeke said yes to taking him out, but he’s given me a signal. I shouldn’t even be involved yet, but I had to save your ass. Consider it a debt repaid after Fort Slava,” you once again tapped your fist to the side of his face in thanks, the flesh of your palm meeting the hard bone of the exterior.

Porco hummed in doubtful thought, his eyes glancing around much like yours did earlier. “Bastard’s probably hiding somewhere nearby.” you nodded in agreement, swiping your blood soaked sleeve across the beads of sweat on your face.

“At least Lara’s safe for now. Nothing gets through that crystal except you, Pock. So we’re good for a minute or two, let Zeke sort things out for a moment,” Pieck chimed in. It was always strange to see her talk through her titan, there was something incredibly unnatural about it. You opened your mouth to reply, before there was yet again another flash of lightning.

Eren had reformed.

“The bastard still has more fight in him?” Porco’s disbelief echoed your own. It was insane how the Attack and Founder had outlasted the Warhammer. The strongest titan in combat, had been bested. It seemed Eren’s power as the two titans was unmatched. You just hoped Zeke had some plan to take him down.

“We have control of the battlefield and its surroundings, and the incoming Marleyan reinforcements have already surrounded the zone,” –well, you didn’t know that. Trust Magath to have some sort of plan– “Paradis never stood a chance against Marley in a proper war anyway.” You couldn’t disagree there. They were a century behind everybody else. Even with an Ackerman, they were nothing in comparison to the technological advancements and sheer number of the Marleyan military. They might have two titans in one, but you still had the other five. Wherever the Colossal was… none of you knew.

“For the time being, focus on protecting Zeke until he gives the signal to me. Porco’s right, Ackerman’s probably hiding out nearby, so stay vigilant,” you instructed, flipping your mask’s visor back over your eyes. Zeke looked back to you, a subtle nod at your new position. To any onlookers, it just looked like a War Chief nodding in approval to his unit. You were well cloaked in the shadow behind the spotlight.

You watched as Zeke picked up the result of Yeager’s destruction, fistfuls of rubble now held in his grasp, arms swinging as he walked into the centre of the stadium. He knew where they were. He knew where those islanders were hiding. And in a short fling of both his arms out wide, Zeke flung shards of debris into and through the building surrounding the area. Glass shattered, walls splintered as shrapnel rained death around you.

“Let’s have a rematch, Levi. Come on, show yourself. You’re running out of time, right?” as if summoned by that one phrase, the sun peeked over the horizon. Had you really been fighting all night already? How was it dawn? You must have–

“Shit!” you struggled to stay on your feet as the blast range of a huge explosion tossed you back. It was only thanks to Pieck’s quick reflexes did you manage to stay upright, The Cart titan moving to her left ever so slightly, catching you against her body. “Thanks Pieck,” you said just loud enough for her to hear, before the realisation dawned on you. It wasn’t the sun at all.

“That’s the explosion of the Colossal… they didn’t just kill Bertholdt… they took his titan!” through her warped voice, you could hear Pieck’s anger and fear. You could hear her terror at the idea of those islanders having acess to three goddamn titan powers. The Colossal at that.

“Fuck, they’ve taken out the harbor! The allied ships… they’ve been blown to shit,” you spat through gritted teeth as the orange haloed outline of their Colossal slowly emerged into your line of sight. So many dead… so many crushed in that explosion. “Porco. Take out the Founder. Fuck him up.” –Before you’d even finished the order, Galliard was away– “Pieck, give us as much cover as you can, I’ll need–”

“We’ve got a surprise for you, Levi…”

“War Chief…” Pieck began, before Zeke interrupted with your signal.

“Desce–” The sickening sound of blade through flesh cut the word off. But there was no mistaking it. That was your signal. Descend. And through the haze of smoke and embers, descend you did.

All was going to plan so far. Armin had fucked up the harbour. Eren was well on his way to devouring the Warhammer, and he’d just ‘taken out’ Zeke. The smoke from the explosive provided enough cover for the bastard to escape unseen with Connie. He’d get his revenge soon enough. Just had to wait. Just a bit longer.

Levi sighed, taking a small reprieve from the combat. Was this really the best course of action? Not that they had any choice, but he couldn’t help wondering what the fuck was going through Eren’s head. Declaring war? Not just declaring war, but declaring war like this. He’d seen children earlier. Fucking children. When he was blowing up Zeke’s ugly nape. It made him wonder, in morbid curiosity, just how many children had died because of Eren’s actions.

A sudden bolt of anticipation shocked through his body, and not a second later Levi was bending backwards, watching the steel of a blade soar mere inches above his face. Shit, was this what Zeke meant? Bastard, even after everything, he still wanted him dead. Fine, he’d entertain for a moment, but soon enough he’d have to be gone. Hange would be coming over with the airship, and he didn’t particularly fancy being left behind.

Another explosion to his left had him shielding his face, more smoke added to the surroundings. One to his right, vision was almost impossible. Levi gripped his blades, relying on his instincts to alert him of oncoming attacks, despite his ringing ears. Either they were throwing explosives, or they were much faster than any of Marley’s other soldiers.

“Alright then, fucking show yourself. Wanna die? Fine by me, but quit wasting my time,” a venomous chuckle rang out in response, echoing all around him. Fuck, if he wasn’t in his alleyway he’d try his gear, but no doubt whoever had cornered him was watching his every move. A blackened, human silhouette walked out of the smoke, his eyes making out the ODM outline at their hips. It was the same soldier he saw before, standing beside the Jaw titan. An ODM gear user, but it wasn’t ODM gear. It was different. Those blades weren’t razors, they were swords. Not used for titans, but for people. “Who the fuck are you?”

That same laugh rang out. A woman, from what he could gather, and… wait was she enjoying this? “I’ve been waiting for this, Ackerman. Waiting for the opportunity to run my blade across your throat. You may have killed our warchief, but let’s see how well Paradis will do without their little superhuman soldier.” Levi watched as she walked back into the smoke, adrenaline pumping through his veins, but something had stopped him. Something had caused ice to crystallise in his muscles. That voice… it flicked at something in his head. Something he couldn’t quite place. Something old, but never forgotten.

Not completely.

He didn’t even have time to contemplate before two anchors locked into the bricks either side of his head. He thought he had much longer between the hiss of gas and the punching impact of legs into his chest. Fuck, she was much faster than he originally thought. His back burned as he briefly skid across the ground, before righting himself with a quick shove behind him. Just in time as well, before yet another singing of steel whirled straight for him, only to be blocked by his own blade. Levi strained.

Fuck, she’s fucking strong. The fierce grit of her teeth below her mask told him she was thinking the same. Panic briefly rose in his system as she sheathed her second blade, hand taking hold of the hilt as she started to overpower him. How the fuck had they found someone with this kind of strength? Eren didn’t mention any of this in his letters. Fuck, he couldn’t keep up with this. Maybe if he hadn’t helped declare war, he could match her strikes, but he was tired, exhaustion clung to his bones.

Levi dodged to the side, allowing her blade to barely scrape along his arm, the fabric of his suit tearing against the sharp edge. But with the way she’d been putting all her strength into that standoff, he managed to throw her off balance.

Where his foot should have met her back, he felt nothing. She’d rolled left, already back on her feet. Another vicious couple of swipes had him backing up, parrying as much as he could where he could. Every impact sent vibrating shockwaves up his forearms, his bones complaining with each strike. His two blades crossed before her single one, once again staving off yet another ridiculously powerful attack. But Levi was bending.

A grunt of effort flew from his lips as he drove his foot into her sternum, sending her back a few steps. To his surprise, she stayed at that distance, her blade simply pointed at him.

“They were right about you… you’re fucking strong. But I wonder, why haven’t you tapped into your Ackerman blood yet?” Levi could barely think past what the sound of her voice was doing to him. He couldn’t think straight. There was just something so damn familiar about it. “I did a little research into your tenacious bloodline. Just couldn’t die out, could you?” Though Levi’s head was a mess, his body was still very much in tune with his surroundings. His eyes glanced to the way her fingers fiddled with the triggers on the hilt of her blades. Something wasn’t right about them.

Once again his instincts kicked in, that same jolt of anticipation igniting his system as he bolted to the side, avoiding the three gunshots fired from beneath the blade. Holy fuck there was a gun in the sword. How the f–

Levi didn’t have time to question any further before another three shots were fired, whizzing past his ear as he sidestepped. This was a losing battle. With a blade, sure, he could compete. But with guns brought into the mix? He was fucked. His skill could only take him so far in this fight, and he didn’t particularly want to resort to tapping into his Ackerman blood, not against an opponent like this, and not when his mind was so damn fuzzy.

Fuzzy to the point where even his body couldn’t alert him of his opponent’s next attack. One moment he was dodging bullets, the next he was on his back, pinned beneath the soldier’s body. She didn’t seem to have tired at all as her sword came down to his throat. Levi hissed in pain as the blade sliced both his palms in an effort to keep the sword from his neck. A knee pressed into his abdomen, her other foot by the side of his head, Levi thrashed as much as he could, taking a gamble by shoving his head and neck to the side, allowing her blade to pierce the ground, just nicking the side of his jugular.

Taking advantage of her surprise, Levi tugged at the visor of the helmet, tossing it to the side as his hands went for her throat.

And stopped.

Everything stopped. Time and his heart pausing as he finally registered what he saw. His brain catching up with his eyes as he looked, really looked at her face.

No, not her face. Your face. You looked more mature, older, but it was still you. You.

The gentle whisper of your name made you freeze. You’d been so intent on killing him, you'd been so close to killing him. Why all of a sudden had all your strength left you? Was it possibly because the man you’d been ordered to kill, who you’d sworn to kill, was looking at you with such broken disbelief? He uttered your name again, a fraction louder, as if saying it will break some kind of spell. But you were completely paralysed, staring into a hopeful storm.

Levi’s lack of respiration had nothing to do with your knee on his stomach. The tears in his eyes had nothing to do with the pain in his hands. You… you. How was this possible…? You… how did… you were dead? You died four years ago…

“What…?” Levi didn’t realise he’d said any of that out loud. Hadn’t realised he’d lost all and any rein on his tongue, simply speaking his thoughts.

But… you were–

“Alive. How… You’re alive?” something in your chest pounded at those words. Something in your mind screamed at those words. But you didn’t understand. You don’t understand. Your features slackened at the gentle caress of a slick palm against your cheek, a thumb so tenderly smoothing your cheekbone, and to your sick surprise, you found yourself unconsciously leaning into the touch.

He couldn’t help himself. He had to feel you, to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, and this wasn't just a woman who looked similar. But he knew. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in his mind. His heart told him more than his head could. Unmistakably, unfathomably, but undeniably you.

What the fuck was happening? Wasn’t this… wasn’t this the man you were supposed to be killing? Wasn’t he the reason you didn’t remember anything? Why you had to undergo such extreme enhancements only to match his power?

Levi’s throat was thick with unspoken emotion. His heart beat harder than it had in a long, long time as he looked at your face. Your familiarity. Those eyes he’d loved, those lips he’d kissed. You were alive… he was wrong to have given up. How could he have given up on you? You were here, you were alive and breathing your heart was beating and you were–

Fighting for Marley…

“Why are you here?” he could barely form words, barely drag them past his lips louder than a tortured rasp. He smoothed his thumb along the slightly bruised bone of your cheek again, hoping to somehow caress the blossom away. It had been so long, so long since he’d done that, and yet it felt as natural as ever.

You had to pull yourself out. You had to resurface. Whatever spiral Ackerman was losing himself to, you couldn’t let him take you down with him. But… something was just so off. He was just so off.

“How the fuck do you know my name?” it was a question you could now longer keep silent. Since he whispered it moments ago and turned your revenge driven world completely upside down. You watched yet another round of what you could only assume was slow realisation, his thin brows pinched, his eyes searching your face. The blood down your cheek started to drip from your jaw and onto his green cape. That same green you saw flash past Galliard’s head as his jaw was rendered useless.

Galliard. Pieck… oh fuck… Zeke was dead. This man below you murdered him, sliced clean through his nape and set off an explosive for good measure. Steel tipped rage set your jaw and hardened your gaze. A shift you knew Levi noticed.

“You took fucking everything from me… Marley did what they had to do, all because of you. I’ve lost everything because of you… and I’ll be fucking damned if it isn’t my blade that takes everything back. Starting with your comrades, then any fucking family your pathetic self might have, any loved ones. I will fucking kill each and every one of them and your agony will be the sweetest memory in my four years of recollection. Four years. That’s all I remember. Because. Of. You.” you wrenched your blade out from the dirt beside his head, teeth grit in shattered determination.

Levi baulked. He’d never seen such seething hatred from your face, your eyes. He froze again, his brain taking a moment to process your words before your blade was once again back in action. He kept his hand on your cheek. If this was where he died, he’d be okay with you. You were safe. You were alive. You hated his existence but that was nothing in comparison to feeling you beneath his palm again. His confusion relaxed in understanding, though a small bubble of protective rage formed in his gut. Whatever these people had done to you had fucked with your memory. And though every nerve in his body screamed at him to get up and tear them apart, he didn’t have it in him to move. So Levi did something he hadn’t done in four, long years.

He smiled.

“I missed you so much.”

You stopped. Everything stopped. He could defend himself. You knew he could. He still had enough strength left in him to throw you off, but he didn’t. He had enough fight left in him to win this, but he didn’t want to. And you realised, with that look of utter devoted resignation…

He didn’t want to hurt you. Whoever he was, wherever you’d met… it had not been under these circumstances.

And you found yourself unable to hurt him back, despite the tip of your blade resting in the centre of his chest. You could kill him. Right now. You could kill him and be done with it.

But even as your conscious mind screamed at you to plunge your blade into his heart…

No. You were wrong.

You couldn’t.

An explosion had your head whirling, the warped scream of Pieck’s titan voice sent your heart racing as you turned your back on Ackerman.

“Pieck…” you whispered.

And with a sharp blow to the back of your head, your vision faded to black.

From the second you fell back into his embrace, to the moment he set you down in the airship, Levi’s head was a mess. Actually, scratch that, from the second he heard your voice again, Levi had been in a state of utter shock. No thoughts entered his head as he smoothed back your hair after he’d knocked you out, making sure there was no blood from the blow. No coherent thought as he pressed his forehead to yours, holding you for the first time in four grief stricken years. Not when he picked you up, an arm beneath your knees, another around your back. Empty as he fired his anchors upwards, and brought you to the airship.

No. Not empty. Far from empty. But he didn’t have the time, energy or patience to sort through his emotions right now. Not with everything that’s just happened. So he kept them at bay, behind a wall, where nobody could read them.

It was Hange who saw him first. Who stopped just as soon as they’d started talking as he walked straight past them and into the second room of the ship with you still tight and secure in his arms. You. You. You, who were alive, breathing, and safe. You were safe.

“Wait… that’s–” Hange began.

“Yeah.” He cut them off almost instantly, kneeling to set you down. But Levi found himself unwilling to let go. He didn’t want to. The first time in four years he’s seen you, touched you, held you. Did he really want to let go so soon?

“Is she…?”

“Alive.” he tried to keep the tremors from his voice, the same ones he felt in his hands. His heart. His soul. Those trembling hands finally set you down on the wood, but he still found himself barely able to take his gaze off you. “Find me some rope. Need to bind her hands.” he could sense Hange’s unease behind him, their questioning look despite not seeing it. He didn’t even need to try and ignore Zeke on the far side, his steaming limbs dousing his face in a haze.

“What? Why?”

Levi paused.

“Because she just tried to kill me.”

Your head throbbed. A constant, dull pulse stemming from the back of your skull as you struggled to remember again. Panic gripped your barely conscious system. It’s happened again. You’d lost your memories again. Until the events of the night slowly started coming back to you. But it hurt too much to think, so you simply focused on waking up. You focused on the press of wood against your cheek, the bound state of your arms and wrists.

A different panic now, and one that alerted you to much more than the state of your mind. Trying to move your arms, you hissed with the effort, eyes fluttering open but immediately closing upon the bright light of the room. A slow, droning buzz of what you assumed could be engines kept your rousing mind company as your lids cracked open again. Another hiss escaped your dry lips at the throb in your head as you shook slightly, hoping to rid your vision of the haze.

Only now could you hear the faint sound of voices as well, your swimming eyes locking on the open doorway on the far side. Eyes closed against the pain, you struggled to sit up, wincing as your head touched the wall behind you.

“How’re you feeling?” Despite the voice being one you knew well, you still started at the sight of the steaming blonde, his limbs severed at the joints. Misplaced relief hugged your chest. He was alive. They hadn’t managed to kill him. But a thousand questions flooded your exhausted head.

“What the hell happened…? They got you too?” you asked with a bitter smile, one of a shared shitty experience. And one that wasn’t returned. Your brow furrowed. “But… I watched you die. I saw Ackerman–” you stopped, eyes flying wide. Ackerman… what the fuck had happened back there…?

“What do you remember?” Zeke asked, voice still soft. You couldn’t tell whether it was because he didn’t want the islanders to hear, or whether it was to ease your throbbing head. Either way, you were grateful.

“Not much, I’ll be honest. Something definitely hit my head but my memories are…jagged? I remember fragments.” You answered honestly, before you remembered he hadn’t actually explained anything. “Zeke… I saw you die,”

“You saw what I wanted you to see.” Well.. that didn’t clear anything up. You wanted to ask more questions, but four figures appeared at the door. Two of them had your blood running cold. Eren Yeager, the war criminal and enemy of Marley, and Levi Ackerman, the same man you’d been enhanced to slaughter. Why the hell wasn’t he dead? When you were set on something, nothing could stop you…

So how was he still alive?

You recognised the girl as the one who’d blown up the Warhammer’s nape and helped Eren escape from a losing fight. The one who looked strangely like…

Oh fuck. There were two Ackermans.

Levi’s eyes landed on you, and a heavy pang of longing echoed through his chest. He knew he’d heard you stir in here. But you looked so unfamiliar with everything. The way you looked at him like he was unfamiliar. It tore at him.

You shifted back, eyes never leaving Yeagar as he was bound to a bench. What the hell was going on…?

“Zeke…” you began, eyes darting to your warchief, before your breathing hitched. He didn’t look afraid. He didn’t look surprised. He looked… comfortable. Content. And he looked right back at you.

“I should have told you–”

“The fuck does that mean?” you spat, straining against the bindings at your wrists.

“Good to see you again, Corporal.” did Eren Yeager just call you–

“What?” it was your instant response, terrified confusion now replacing any fire you had in you.

“You saved my life that day.” the dark haired girl murmured into her scarf.

“That’s enough.” your eyes flickered up to Ackerman, before another entered the room.

“Ah, Corporal, you’re awake.” Again with the Corporal thing.

“Hange.” It was Ackerman again, a tone of warning.

“What’s wrong, Levi?” A jeer from Zeke.

“So that’s what those experiments did… interesting.” a vague comment from Eren.

“What experiments?” Hange’s confusion.

“I said that’s enough.” another low warning from Levi.

You couldn’t take it.

“SHUT IT!”

The room fell into silence, that same pang of sorrow shuttered in his chest. You looked so small. So confused. He just wanted to wrap you up in his arms again, stroke your hair and murmur how everything was going to be okay. You were going to be okay. His protective instincts pleaded with him to hold you, but that look in your eye… it was more dangerous than he cared to admit. With a brief glance to Hange and a sharp nod, the brunette understood in an instant, and went back to the cockpit with Onyankapon.

Your helpless, paralysing terror ebbed away, making room for the white hot, determined rage. “If I’m not told what the fuck is going on, I’ll glady slit the throats of everyone in this room.” you moved your hands, the bindings around your wrists falling away. Glaring eyes flicked up to Levi, who you swore almost flinched in response. “You’re shit at tying knots. Now, an explanation.” you demanded, slowly rising from your position on the ground. You needed strength for this one. You needed a resolve. You’d already guessed Zeke had betrayed you, but you needed to hear it. “Those people… those people trusted you. They believed in you they put their faith in you. And you let him come along and slaughter them in cold blood. They were civilians, Zeke. Fucking children were there. You think Gabi survived? Udo? What about Zofia and Falco? They were children. And you just dragged them into your fucking war. Paradis doesn’t stand a fucking chance against Marley, you of all people should know that. What could you possibly hope to accomplish? Explain. Now.” you snarled, not noticing the way several islanders looked at you with some sort of baffled awe.

Levi couldn’t help the kernel of impressed pride in his chest as you revealed your free hands. He’d taught you to do that. It gave him some kind of naïve hope for your memories.

The blonde shifted uncomfortably under your glare. “The battle before you lost your memories was at a place called Shiganshina.” you huffed, angry at your own confusion and misunderstanding.

“So? What is that? Where is that?” you glanced at the people around the room, but lingered on one in particular. Eyes softer than they were on anyone else, the way he looked at you was almost enough to calm your stuttering heart. Like everything was going to be alright.

“It’s a district at Wall Maria, on Paradis island.” Levi watched your scowl slowly slacken, the way his own did when he realised you didn’t remember who he was. That crack in his heart wasn’t going to heal anytime soon, a piece of him splintered off the second it clicked. He broke for you. Bled for your. The two bandages currently wrapped around his hands symbolised that. He wanted them to stop. He wanted them all to stop, so he could do it himself. Take you somewhere quiet and gently explain. He didn’t know anything about what happened to you after, but he wanted you to remember. A selfish, disgusting part of him simply wanted you to look at him like he wasn’t a stranger.

“Wait just, hold on. Wh– I don’t– But I wasn’t there… you said I was–” –your breathing hitched– “They weren’t just enhancements, were they…? You… You’ve been using me. The ones before me… Those Eldians… why didn’t they survive?” Once again, you needed to hear it.

“Weren’t strong enough. Needed someone who’d experienced severe mental trauma and strain. Someone who was used to pressure and stress. You’d been fighting titans your whole life… you were the perfect candidate. Right Zeke?” it was Eren who spoke up, his voice drained and quiet as he explained what you needed to hear, but didn’t want to.

Time took a brief pause as you processed. You weren’t born in Marley… you’d never been to Marley… you…

You were an islander.

It was only thanks to Levi’s reflexes did he manage to catch you before you lunged for the Beast, your intention to tear him to pieces clear on your face. An arm around your middle, the other holding back on your shoulder as you struggled against his grip.

“You lied to me. This entire fucking time, you’ve been lying to me? I trusted you, we trusted you.” Levi winced at the use of the word ‘we’. “Let me guess, you made the others swear to secrecy. No wonder Reiner looked at me the way he did. He knew I didn’t fucking belong there.” if you had the strength, you would have fought against Ackerman holding you back, but all the fight had left you. All the strength sapped from your bones. “You were my fucking friend, Zeke. You all were. Was that a lie too?” Just how many lies had he spun…?

“Our friendship wasn’t a lie… neither was yours with the Warriors. To the point where Pieck wanted to tell you. All those mornings where you threw up, the nightmares you couldn’t recall… she begged me to tell you. But I think we all knew Marley’s Dagger would refuse to fight for us if you knew the truth.” You’d stopped fighting against him now, but Levi still held you. Still had an arm braced around your middle even though he knew it was pointless. “I have a goal. You just so happened to be a part of the plan, though you being here, was not.” Levi heard your breath stutter, saw in excruciating detail the tears that lined your eyes.

“What were those experiments, Zeke…? What were they really for?” you asked a question you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer to.

Zeke opened his mouth to reply, but whatever the man had to say was cut off by shrieking from behind the closed door. Your head whipped round, staring at the metal. You knew that voice… how the fuck had she–

The door opened and your fears were confirmed. You went to move, but that arm around your middle tightened, and for some reason, you were compelled to stay, despite the confusion in your face.

“Mister Zeke…?” Gabi’s broken questioning cracked your heart, Levi saw it in your eyes. Those kids didn’t know the man they looked up to was a Marleyan traitor. You gasped slightly at that same, broken tone turned on you. “They took you both alive?” her wide, hazel eyes fell to the arm still around your waist, and a resolve cemented in your chest. Zeke may have been a Marleyan traitor, but you sure as hell weren’t. You didn’t give yourself time to contemplate the fact that you no longer belonged anyway as you shoved Ackerman’s arm off you with an irritated huff.

Levi instantly missed your touch, clenching his jaw against your indifference.

“You gonna lie to them too?” –you spat to Zeke over your shoulder, before turning back to the two kids– “What the hell are you doing here? How the hell did you– Gabi does Reiner know you’re here?” you knelt before the two kids, wiping the blood leaking from Falco’s bottom lip before you turned your attention to him. “And does Colt? What were you two even thinking?! Trying to get yourselves killed? I know you want to prove yourselves to Magath but this is utter insanity.” though your words were chastising, there was obvious relief in your tone. Relief they were both still alive, though a bit bruised and battered.

“Who are these brats?” Levi managed to pull himself together enough to appear his usual Captain self as Jean presented the two intruders. You however seemed to know them well enough, and he assumed they were part of the same Warrior program as the rest of Marley’s shifters.

“Two kids who snuck on the ship not moments ago. They somehow killed Lobov. This one shot Sasha. I… don’t think she’s gonna make it.” That, for some reason, struck a chord with you. Of all the warrior candidates, you knew Gabi was the one with the most mettle. But she’d killed someone now. That blood on her hands won’t wash away. Two soldiers ran out past you, the blonde and the girl, you realised. Your eyes flickered to Gabi, who seemed trained on Zeke’s steaming figure behind you. Tenderly, you wiped the blood from her nose.

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Levi’s heart clenched at those words. Those words he longed to say to you, just as gently.

“What should we do with them?” you were immediately on the defensive in response to the brunette’s question. You wouldn’t let them be hurt anymore. You turned to Ackerman behind you.

“Leave them with me, please. They’re just kids, they don’t understand yet. Please, just leave them with me.” it was the softest you’d looked at him so far. Levi couldn’t let his longing for you show. Couldn’t tell you that you never have to ask for anything from him. He’d give it to you willingly. So he nodded. Of course he nodded. He couldn’t say anything to you yet, not without his voice shaking and cracking, so he opted to stay silent. “Thank you.” he once again clenched his jaw against your whisper, refraining from telling you thanking him was never necessary. He’d do anything for you, regardless of gratitude.

“Wait… that’s Corporal–”

“We’ll take the kids, Jean. Head back to Sasha.” with a curt salute, the man, Jean, was gone. You nodded to Gabi and Falco, a silent order for them to stay close to you. They flanked either side of you in response.

Any and all conversation now happening around you faded out into nothing as you withdrew into your head. You weren’t born in Marley, your parents hadn’t signed you up for the Warrior program when you were a kid. They hadn’t died like you’d been told. You’d only known them all for four years. Four years. Briefly you glanced at Gabi and Falco, wondering if they knew as well. They couldn’t possibly, right? They wouldn’t have been old enough to remember…

But you… You were an islander. You were one of them but… were you? You couldn’t be, not anymore, anyway. And you weren’t Marleyan, you shouldn’t have even been fighting for Marley so…

Who the fuck were you? You didn’t belong with either of them, neither side would take you now. Marley wouldn’t take you back now you knew the truth, not that you wanted to fight for them anymore. And with how much damage you’d done to enemy nations, improving the strength of their enemy… you couldn’t expect Paradis to even want you back.

You were completely and utterly alone.

Too caught up in your head, you failed to notice Levi looking at you, as if the only thing he wanted, the only thing on his mind, was getting you back.

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littlegodzilla · 2 years

Text

Hi!!

Here I come with your requests again!!

Sorry for the waiting as I said I had a very hard block but slowly everything is going to its place so I'll start posting more often again. At least I hope so.

Well!! I hope you enjoy it and Anon I hope it was what you expected!! I have to say I need a kink list or something like that because I'm not sure about some kind of them and I felt lost sometimes when someone ask me something like that 🤣 but I did my best!

Daddy Norman.

Norman Reedus(45) x FemReader(20)

Anon request.

Warning: Rupture. Gag age. SMUT. Daddy kink.

Words: 4000.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @ruinedbythehobbit @srhxpci @darylsgarden

Norman shuffles heavily down the stairs, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. He is annoyed, but at the same time feels a strange sense of relief in his chest.

Their last relationship hadn't ended well, for a few months now things hadn't been business as usual. They didn't feel like they always did, yet Norman had believed that he had found the person he needed, but that wasn't the case. After several weeks without seeing each other, the final meeting between them was not pleasant. He hadn't expected a welcome home party by any stretch of the imagination, but he had at least expected to find his partner waiting for him and at least give him a kiss, but he found her folding her arms and the screams soon echoed through the house.

It wasn't hypocritical, he wasn't a saint either, he had been feeling overwhelmed and uncomfortable for days now but he didn't see himself able to talk about it, it was a relief that things exploded on their own, although he would have liked to be able to continue being friends or at least have a cordial treatment, but things got out of control for both of them saying things that Norman later regretted.

He left her the house so she could be quiet there or do what she wanted with the building, he returned to downtown New York, to the streets where he had been raised and grown up since he was fifteen. He found a nice, spacious, not too noisy apartment in one of the neighborhoods near China Town where he could enjoy the comings and goings of people, the noise and murmur of the streets, the day-to-day life of New Yorkers. What he liked the most.

Now he is back after long months of filming another season of the TV show and an exhibition of his new art gallery. It's been a long day, he needs to get home and rest. However he is standing in the middle of the stairs when he hears some whispers and some curses thrown in the air.

You're a few steps above him, dragging a huge suitcase that to Norman's eyes looks like it's either older than you are or badly damaged from your constant abuse pulling it down the stairs. His eyes run up and down you, your hair disheveled, your cheeks flushed from overexertion, your body straining not to lose the strength you're exerting to pull the suitcase up the stairs. You curse again when the handle slips from your hands and Norman climbs a couple of steps at a time and catches the suitcase before it rolls off.

"Oh shit, sorry!" You say running after your suitcase looking up at him startled. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine, how about you?" he looks at you with a small smile wanting to dispel your concern. "You've got quite a pile of suitcases with you."

"Yeah, it's just... I just got here and... I didn't know there was no elevator." You mumble in annoyance and he smiles again, amused this time and holds the suitcase tightly as he climbs the stairs until he reaches your side. "No, there's no need."

"Don't worry, I'm going up too, what floor are you going to?" he asks you leaving the suitcase on the second floor landing.

"To the third..." you mumble although not quite sure if you should give him that information, Norman raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Me too, come here, let me help you." Norman grabs your heaviest suitcases and heads upstairs without bothering to hear your protests. You grab the remaining suitcases and follow him.

"Th-thank you, that wasn't necessary..."

"It's okay, we're going to the same floor, so it doesn't matter." He plays it down and looks over his shoulder at you. "Moving is a bitch."

"Yeah, especially when you get kicked out of the house..." you sigh heavily.

"You got kicked out of your house? Why?"

"College... You know, the perfect excuse for your parents to stay home alone and you're no longer a nuisance." You say with boredom and Norman laughs with a nod.

"I see, I imagine from what you're saying it wasn't something you had planned." Hearing you mutter negatively he laughs again. "What are you going to study?"

"By order of my parents, medicine."

"Wow, what a bummer..."

"Yeah... I got a scholarship and my parents looked for the farthest place to send me." You shrug and Norman sets the suitcases on the floor as you reach the third floor.

"Parents always thinking of their kids." He jokes and you give a grateful half-smile because he's trying to cheer you up.

"I guess so, thanks again..."

"Norman." He introduces himself and then realizes that you don't know who he is or at least pretend not to know which, oddly enough, feels good, liberating.

"Nice to meet you, Norman." You introduce yourself as well and shake his hand firmly.

"Likewise, make it light at college and... I'll see you around, I guess." He says goodbye and you grab your bags to find your door.

It's strange and awkward at the same time as you both head in the same direction down the corridor, a thick silence settles between you only broken by the rolling of the wheels of your suitcases. Norman stops in front of his door and you do the same, as the number you have written down in your papers is right in front of the man's door. You look at each other and he snorts through his nose as you redden.

"For a moment there I thought you were a stalker and were going to break into my house." He jokes as he sees your whole face turn a deep red color making him laugh.

"I'm sorry, but I wasn't going to tell you where I lived..."

"Now I'm even more offended, you just called me a pervert..."

"You were so quick to offer to help me..." you excuse yourself.

"We were going to the same floor!" he defends himself and you raise your hands in peace.

"Okay, I'm sorry."

"Well... anyway, if you need anything." He points to his door. "Just knock."

"Thank you Norman. Have a good rest." You say goodbye walking into your apartment.

"Have a good rest..." he murmurs entering his home as well and stand there biting his hair under his lower lip thoughtfully.

Young foreign girl with strict parents starts college in the big city of New York. It certainly sounds like a cheap movie about kidnappings and cults.

Norman was busy with work and you had already started classes, so your schedules were mostly incompatible. Once or twice you had seen each other at the door of the building, a friendly smile and a cordial greeting escaped in a whisper from your mouths and you each went on your way. But that doesn't mean there is no mutual curiosity. You have wanted to knock on his door, as he invited you, on occasion, but without a definite excuse you were embarrassed that he would misunderstand what it might mean. You also don't know why you want to knock on his door and just see him.

Norman for his part is curious to know more about you, your tastes, your family, if you have any hobbies or secret pleasures that no one else knows about. He knows he can't make the first move. He's quite a bit older than you, if he gets too close it could be weird and the last thing he wants is to scare you. He feels stupid because he knows what's happening to him and the answer is simple; sex. Since his last relationship ended he's been too busy with work, traveling, he's barely had time to himself and you're a woman and you live right across the corridor from him.

And he wants to have you.

He has to be patient and wait for the right time, he can't just jump you in any situation, you're neighbors so it's a matter of time before you'll coincide again and then he can talk to you. Dig a little deeper, get to know you a little better.

That day comes several weeks later. The conventions for the last season on TV are over so he is back home for an indefinite period of time. In his case it's never too long as he combines those days of relaxation to do other things, but he'll be home more and that means you might be able to see more of each other. He is walking up the stairs dragging a small suitcase and his backpack on his back, he answers some messages he had delayed on his cell phone and when he looks up, he sees you along the corridor. You look tired, carrying your own backpack plus a stack of books in your hands. You just got home from college and he has to admit it's pretty late. He walks a little faster and taps your shoulder to get your attention.

"Norman!" You greet him and smile. You're tired but your smile seems sincere.

"Are you just out of college?" he asks you looking at the books you're holding and you shrug.

"From the library, yes, we start some exams shortly and I have to make the most of the hours."

"Wow... don't overload yourself too much, that's not good either." He advises you as you walk towards your homes.

"Yes, Daddy." You roll your eyes and Norman feels himself choking on his own saliva.

He knows there's no double entendre in that term, your voice sounds bored and somewhat jaded with advice that's not going to get you anywhere. But Norman feels a cramp run down his spine when you utter the word and roll your eyes, throwing more erotic images at him than you planned.

"Hey what..." He clears his throat as he feels his voice sound too hoarse. "I'm only saying this for your sake. Besides today is Friday, aren't you going out? Clear your head a little..."

"I'm not good at that going out to bars to get drunk thing and it's not like I've made too many friends in college either." You come clean feeling embarrassed by your own words.

"Okay..." He is quiet for a moment, thoughtful, bites his lip a few times and then smiles. "I'll tell you what; leave those books at home, take a shower and then come on by. I'll fix you some dinner." He smiles wiggling his eyebrows and you look at him incredulously.

"What, no, no, you must be busy and..."

"No, seriously, I'm going to make some dinner and when you're ready, come on in. I'll be waiting for you." He says again and opens the door to his house.

Norman is no expert in the kitchen, but he goes out of his way to make something edible before you arrive. It may be a bit cliché, but he prepares some pasta, it's heavy for dinner time, but if you've been at college and studying all day, he knows you need to reenergize. Half an hour after he's indicated you're having dinner at his house, Norman hears a knock on the door and his pulse quickens a little. He laughs softly shaking his head, he feels like a teenager and needs a moment to calm down. When he opens the door a growl gets stuck in his chest, you're still wearing your wet hair from the shower, falling loose down your back, you've put on a huge sweatshirt that looks like a dress and your black boots. In any other circumstance maybe Norman wouldn't have thought it was anything special, but this is the first time he's seen the skin of your legs and his fingers itch to caress them, to find out if they are as soft as they look.

The night passes calmly, the two of you have dinner almost in silence, only broken by some banal questions, how was your day, how is the university, how much work you have lately, things that are answered with yes or no or short answers, nothing important. It's something new for both of you and it's hard for you to lose your embarrassment. However, after dinner Norman suggests a movie and a few beers and as the night goes on you both feel more comfortable with each other. Those little moments happen several more nights. He is not always at home when you have started your exams, but one night Norman waits for you with the door open, you just have to leave your things at the entrance and the smell of freshly cooked food welcomes you.

That night you are both watching a movie quietly, side by side, sharing a few beers while eating popcorn. You should be studying, you have a very important and tedious exam on Monday, but you couldn't refuse your neighbor's invitation again. Every day that passes and you get to know Norman a little better, you like him more and more. He is an attractive man, funny and at the same time he is deep and mysterious, he always has that look on you, with a crooked smile as if he would like to ask you something, but he doesn't dare. Norman tenses slightly when he feels your head fall on his shoulder, he looks at you out of the corner of his eye realizing you're tired, but you're struggling to stay awake. He smiles leaving his beer on the table and his hand strokes your hair to get your attention. You raise your head to look at him, you want to apologize for taking advantage and using him as a pillow, but you shut up as you discover the intensity of his gaze, his pupils dilated. Norman leans over you and kisses you slowly holding your chin. You freeze for a second, but immediately reciprocate his kiss by wrapping your arms around his neck. At your reaction, Norman kisses you more intensely, his mouth demanding you open yours and his tongue slips in, seeking and tangling with yours. You sigh and he growls pulling you to sit on his lap. You shiver slightly as his hands move down to your ass, he caresses and squeezes your ass, you feel goosebumps rise on your skin as his hands reach inside your pants and knead your buttocks, you moan softly and he bites your chin moving down your neck leaving several kisses and nibbles all over your skin.

You close your eyes and need a moment before you pull away to let him look at you. Your eyes glow with the same dark gaze, you both gasp with intensity from the need and desire that engulfs you. A mischievous smile forms on your mouth and Norman laughs with a snicker.

"I see you're not as innocent as I thought you were." He confesses and you shrug.

"No one said I was..." You smile again and kiss him again. Norman bites your lips as he holds the back of your neck so you can't pull away from him.

You move your hips on him hearing him gasp as your pussy rubs over the top of his pants squeezing his growing bulge inside the hard denim, the hand still holding your ass squeezes tighter on your skin and pushes you so the rubbing is more intense. You moan against his mouth and pull away licking his lips as you part. Your mouth attacks his neck giving small kisses and your hands tug at his shirt so you can pull it off over his head. Norman lets you do it, but soon stops you when you try to get rid of his pants.

"Easy, girl, what's your hurry? I haven't even been able to touch you." He says huskily, biting your chin again. You purr excited and frustrated almost at the same time. You feel his mouth stretch into a smile on your skin and you shiver. Norman likes to play and wants to have fun with you.

Well, you're not going to stop him.

"Norman..."

"Ssh..." He commands you to be quiet and caresses your lips with his thumb. "We're going to have fun, girl, believe me, but now, I'm going to take a little control." He tells you in a husky whisper and you nod your head. "Use your voice."

"Y-Yes..."

"Yes, what?" he urges you and for a moment you hesitate, not quite sure what he expects, his pupils are dilated and an idea then pops into your mind.

"Yes, Daddy." You whisper not very convinced, but then his pupils get even bigger and you know you've got it right.

"Good girl, now undress for me." He asks you again in that dark tone and you get goose bumps.

Slowly you climb down from his lap staying in front of him and slowly pull your shirt up to pull it off over your head letting it fall to the floor. With each new garment you remove you watch Norman's breathing grow heavier, wishing he could touch you himself. You stand in front of him in a beautiful black lingerie set with lace. Your eyes fix on him and you see that he has unbuttoned his pants and the bulge is now larger and seems painfully tight under the fabric. Your knees tremble and your mouth goes dry as you imagine its size, you want to taste it, to feel its weight on your tongue. You twitch nervously and Norman smiles.

"Tell me what you think." He asks you without moving an inch, but his eyes boring into you with intensity.

"I want your cock." You confess and you hear him growl lowly, chin stroking as he bites his lip.

"Ask me." You hesitate for a moment not quite sure what he means.

"I want to suck your cock, Daddy..." You confess again and Norman stirs on the couch and you know you've hit the right key.

"Get on your knees and come here." He orders you, a shiver of excitement runs down your spine and you feel your panties getting wet.

On all fours you crawl towards him, wiggling your body, watching as Norman spreads your legs to give you room between them. You prop yourself up on your knees and your hands grip his thighs still covered by his pants. Your mouth is watering wanting to undress him, you lean your head down and lick over the fabric of his briefs at his hard cock, the fabric getting wet and sticking to his hot skin, Norman snorts like an animal and his fingers close around your hair, tugging slightly, just enough to make you lift your head and look up at him.

"Daddy, please..."

"Please what?" he demands in a raspy voice.

"Please let me suck you off, Daddy." You ask feeling your pussy throbbing at your own words.

"Good girl..." He whispers and he pulls down his pants and underwear himself, his cock throbbing as it breaks free and rises before your eyes.

It's thick and big, nothing exaggerated or perfect, but it gets you even more excited. You hold his cock from the base, moving your hand up and down, admiring how his tip gets wet. You open your mouth and your lips close around his glans and suck, your tongue brushes the slit collecting the drops of pre-cum and Norman gasps, throwing his head back. You start with a slow, tentative back and forth, adjusting his size to your mouth, as far as you can reach without gagging. You take a faster, deeper rhythm, your tongue running up and down his cock, his tip hitting the end of your throat, you hollow your cheeks and Norman moans.

"That's it honey, you like Daddy's cock, don't you?" he growls tugging lightly on your hair "That mouth is really good, you know how to suck Daddy's cock." She smiles and licks her lips. Again he tugs on your hair, you look up feeling yourself getting drenched as you discover his lust filled gaze fixed on you. You hum against his cock and see him close his eyes for a second. "Stop." He orders you and you lick his length one last time before pulling it out of your mouth with wet, lewd plop.

Norman makes you stand up and sit back down on his lap. His hands caress your waist up your back to the clasp of your bra which he opens without difficulty, the fabric brushes your skin as he undoes the garment and his mouth closes around your nipple, his wet tongue playing with your tight button, hardening it, becoming erect inside his mouth, he sucks and licks, little gasps and sighs escape from your mouth looking at him, watching him having fun with your nipples, he stimulates your other nipple and squeezes and pulls the one he just took out of his mouth. Your whole body trembles with pleasure and you wiggle your hips rubbing your soaked panties against his rock hard cock.

"Norman, please..." You ask and he pulls away looking at you with an amused smile.

"Who is Norman?" his voice sounds so dark and needy that you fear you will cum just hearing him.

"Daddy..." You sigh and he smiles again before kissing you intensely holding you by the back of the neck, his tongue bursting into your mouth without permission cutting off your breath.

"Daddy is going to fuck you so hard that tomorrow you won't remember how to walk."

"Yes, Daddy, fuck me."

Norman doesn't need any more permission, he pulls your panties down to get rid of them with several grunts of frustration that make you laugh and sits you back on his lap. He doesn't need to touch you too much, you're too aroused already, his fingers immediately become wet with your fluids, he makes quick circles over your clit making you moan and slips them into your vagina, in and out, several times, the wet sound echoing in your ears. You beg again and he can't resist any longer.

"I'm going to make a real mess of you." He promises you by kissing you one more time before inserting the tip of his cock into you.

You gasp almost at the same time, his cock stretching you inside as he goes deeper, your walls tremble and clench around him trying to adjust to his size. You dig your nails into the back of the couch as Norman holds you firmly around the waist and the last thrust is sharp, sitting you completely on his cock. A scream escapes your mouth as you throw your head back at the sensation of being completely filled, Norman licks the line between your breasts moving up towards your neck biting down on one side as his hips thrust hard, driving deep inside you, you bounce rhythmically on top of him clinging to the couch to follow his thrusts and you moan loudly rolling your eyes each time his cock hits the exact places inside you.

Norman holds you by the hips to stop you and ram fast and deep from his position under you.

"Oh fuck, you take my cock so good..." You grunt biting your lip thrusting hard again. "That tight wet pussy is perfect for Daddy's cock."

"Yes, Daddy, just for your cock." A louder moan escapes your mouth and Norman slows his movement for a moment.

"You're close, aren't you?" he asks and bites your neck again.

"Yes..." You sigh feeling pleasure start to course through you and your legs tremble.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes, Daddy, please let me cum." You beg him feeling him move quickly under you again and you move with him. "Oh my God!"

"Cum, girl, cum all over my cock." He demands and you can't hold back any longer, with a new moan you let yourself go.

The pleasure is intense and explodes in your lower belly coursing through your whole body like an electric shock, your whole body trembles, your insides clench around Norman's cock and you hear him curse before he cums, you feel the hot liquid spilling inside you and the over excitement makes you dizzy. Gasping, struggling for air in your lungs, your body leans against his, Norman's hands release your waist, his fingers leave a noticeable reddish mark on your skin, he wraps his arms around you and strokes your back, he's still inside you but you can feel his cum spilling out despite still being connected.

"I should be studying for Monday..." You mumble trying to break the silence and Norman snorts in amusement.

"Anatomy? I think we've done a good review." He jokes and you laugh pulling away from him to kiss him.

"I wouldn't mind going over the lesson again." You say suggestively and press yourself against his cock. Norman hisses at the sensation around his cock.

"Give me a few minutes and I'm all yours."

THE END.

I hope you enjoyed it!

I see you in the next story!!

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ghostofskywalker · 3 years

Text

Lilacs in Bloom

Wanda Maximoff/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,965

Prompt: “i don't usually give in to peer pressure, but i'll give in to yours”

Summary: [Flower Shop AU] Despite the fact that you were technically business rivals, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. And it only got worse when bouquets started showing up at your door.

This is for @blackberrybucky‘s 500 follower writing challenge - congrats! hope you like it!!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

You waved goodbye as Carol walked out of the shop, a gorgeous bouquet of peonies and bright white carnations in her hand, an anniversary gift for her fiancée Maria. Carol was a regular customer of the flower shop you worked at, and she was a joy to work with. She always ordered bouquets from you for special occasions, and you enjoyed talking to her as she picked out the her flowers.

You liked your job, in a little flower shop that was off the beaten path in a quiet suburb outside New York City. Your store was nestled between a bakery and an antique store, and people often just took a walk down the street to visit the other small business, including a seamstress, a wedding planner, and an art gallery that was owned by Steve, who was a dear friend of yours. You had been there for just over five years, when you left your boring corporate job and decided to take a chance on starting your own business, because you had always loved flowers. Your friends and family had been supportive, and now you were a successful florist working the best job you could ever ask for.

You had an arrangement with the wedding planner down the street, so you did the arrangements for a lot of her events, but what you really enjoyed doing was smaller bouquets. It was fun to talk to a customer about who they were planning to give the flowers to, what their story was, and what their likes and dislikes were. You put a lot more time and love into your bouquets than a grocery store or chain florist might, and you paid special attention to the different meanings of the flowers you used. Even if no one else knew about the significance of the blooms, a bouquet just didn’t feel complete if the meaning of the flowers didn’t match the intention of the giver. You had bouquets that were premade and people could just pick up if they wanted to, but you tried to encourage people to pick out the flowers they wanted instead of just going with the bouquet, just because it always feels so much more sincere. A lot of people just stuck with the ones you already had (mostly husbands who had forgotten some special occasion and were now trying to desperately appease their wives), but some people (like Carol) always came in ready to pick out their own bouquets.

Natasha’s voice pulled you out of your daydream. “Morning Y/N,” she said as she walked through the door. Natasha was your only employee, and she worked in the afternoon and closed the store for you. The two of you had grown close in the two years she worked for you, and you were incredibly grateful that you had found her. In the last year especially, the amount of orders you had for bouquets and arrangements had drastically increased, which meant you definitely needed the help. Once Natasha arrived for the day, she took care of the customers and the people that came to pick up their orders, and you answered the phone and started working on the next day’s bouquets. Whatever you didn’t finish in the afternoon you would finish the next morning before you opened.

“Morning Nat,” you said, smiling at her. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good,” she said. “No cat puke on my clothes today, and I got you a coffee.” Natasha also fed other people’s pets when they were on vacations or business trips, and she had the worst luck sometimes. She had been thrown up and slobbered on by so many different cats and dogs that she kept a change of clothes in the shop, just in case she didn’t have time to go home and change. You had offered to give her more hours if she needed money, but she always refused.

“What kind?” you asked as she passed you a to go cup from the coffee shop a street over. You could feel the warmth of the drink through the walls of the cup and you took a sip.

“Vanilla syrup and a little milk,” she said, and you nodded. This shop had the best coffee you had ever tasted, and you and Natasha took turns picking up drinks for the two of you.

“Who was working?”

“Sam and Bucky.”

“I’m surprised the shop is still standing,” you laughed. You enjoyed talking to those two, and you knew it was all in good fun, but they could bicker with the best of them.

“They said that a new florist is moving onto their street,” Natasha said, and that piqued your interest.

“Really?”

“Yeah, apparently a chain flower shop bought that empty space between the post office and the jewelry store. Sam reassured me that they’ll be no competition for us though.”

You weren’t really too worried about competition, because the customers that came in often came for you, and you had built relationships with a lot of regulars. The demographic you may lose out on is the “husband who wants to stop sleeping on the couch,” but even then you weren’t worried. “A chain flower store?” you asked Natasha. “I didn’t even know they had those.”

“I didn’t either,” she said. “I think they’re more of a bulk supplier than a bouquet retailer though.”

“That makes sense,” you said. “They probably sell to big office buildings and catering halls and stuff.”

“We should go in when they open, do some corporate espionage.”

You let out a laugh. “I don’t know if ‘corporate espionage’ is a thing in the floral industry,” you said. “But we should go in and introduce ourselves. It might be useful to have a good relationship with them.”

“Oh Y/N you’re no fun,” she said, and you just playfully rolled your eyes on her.

“Fine, if you want to let out your inner secret agent, be my guest. Then I’ll go and introduce myself.”

“Deal,” she said, just as a customer walked in. You laughed again as you made your way into the back to start on the next day’s orders, wondering what the people at the new shop would be like.

***

A few weeks later, you walked back into the shop to see Natasha talking to another redheaded woman. You had ran out to get coffee for the two of you and spent a few moments talking to Bucky, so you were a little behind on your orders for the next day. You smiled at the woman in front of the counter, passed Nat her coffee, and disappeared into the back of the store. The woman was beautiful, but you didn’t have the time to wonder who she was.

You lost yourself in blooms and arrangements, and you didn’t even look up until when Natasha walked into the back, at least an hour later. “Do you need any help?”

You looked around at the bouquets and centerpieces that covered nearly every surface. “I don’t think so, I think I fell into a trance and I was able to knock these out for the Stark wedding pretty quickly.”

“They look good,” she said. “Do you have any more?”

“I think I have one more centerpiece to do,” you said, and she nodded. “Hey, who was that woman you were talking to when I came in with the coffee today?”

“That’s Wanda, she works at the chain flower store two streets over and she stopped by to introduce herself. Next time she comes in you two should talk, I think you would like her.”

You narrowed your eyes at her comment. “You’re not trying to set me up again, are you?”

She immediately got defensive. “No! I’m simply saying that I think the two of you would get along, and also she is single.”

“I knew you were trying to set me up,” you said. “First of all, I barely have time to go grocery shopping, I don’t think I can handle a relationship right now, and second of all, you don’t even know if she likes women.”

“She does.”

“Now you’re just lying to me.”

“I am not!’ she said indignantly. “When we were talking, she mentioned something about a past girlfriend, and when I asked if she was single she said yes.”

“You got all this from one conversation?”

“You know me, I’m very good at reading people.”

“I think ‘nosy’ is what I would call it.”

“Hey!” she said, but you knew she was just playing around. “I still think you should talk to her, because I’ve seen her walk by here a few times, and she always looked at you.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t looking at the flowers? Doing some ‘corporate espionage’ as you called it?”

“Now you’re just being difficult.”

“Hey, I’m just considering all the options,” you said, laughing at her pained expression. “But in all seriousness, if she comes in again while I’m here, tell me. I would actually like to meet her, and it has nothing to do with her beauty or the fact that she is single.”

“So you think she’s beautiful then?”

“I’m not going to answer that.”

“Fine, I’ll let you know the next time I see her though,” she said as she stepped back out to the front of the store. “But you need to stop lying to yourself!”

You just rolled your eyes as you went back to the centerpiece you were working on. You did want to meet the other florist, but it had nothing to do with the fact that you found her beautiful. Right?

***

Wanda did end up coming in one day when you and Natasha were there, and you did spend a few minutes talking to her. You got along well, and her presence was electric, but you had to keep yourself from seeing things that weren’t there. Natasha was absolutely not helping. She raised her eyebrows at you as Wanda left the shop, and you just shook her head at her. She scoffed in response.

There was a time when you wanted to believe that Nat was right, and that was when the bouquets started showing up at the door. There wasn’t always a note, but even when there was, it was only signed “X.” The flowers were lovely, and you always had a good laugh with the delivery man when he walked in, because “whoever is sending you these does know you work in a flower shop, right?”

You didn’t want to say that there was someone you wished these were from, but Natasha sniffed it out right away. “It’s a nice gesture, but the delivery guy was right,” she said. “She knows that this is your shop.”

“You don’t know that it’s her Nat,” you chided.

“But still, whoever is sending them is sending flowers to a flower shop, they have to realize that it’s maybe not the most original gift.”

“It’s still a nice gesture,” you said, as you admired the latest bouquet of Amaryllis flowers that had arrived that morning. “I’m always the one giving flowers, it’s nice to receive them.”

Soon the bouquets became too much for you to keep in the store, so you started to bring them home. You spent your evening staring at the blooms and the lovely ribbons that were tied around the stems. You started to piece together the meanings of the different flowers, and while you didn’t know if those meanings were intentional, you appreciated the lovely little messages that the petals held. The Amaryllis flowers you had received this morning were symbolic of romantic love, as were the red and white carnations you had received a few days ago.

You weren’t the type to overthink, but tulips that arrived one day made you wonder. They had so many different meanings, and you usually included them in bouquets and arrangements with other flowers, so if people did look at the flower meanings, they could use the clues of the other flowers around it to figure out the purpose the tulips serve in that particular piece. But this was just a bouquet of tulips, and your brain started to overthink their potential meaning.

Forgotten or neglected love, that’s one of the meanings of a tulip, the inner voice in your head said. You didn’t want to think about it, but there were no other flowers in the bouquet to gauge off of. Tulips could also mean undying or passionate love, no matter if that love is spurned or returned, and you hoped it was that meaning the sender was trying to show. You didn’t think you had forgotten or neglected any love, but what if someone had interpreted things differently than you had?

Whoever is sending these probably doesn’t take the meanings as literally as you do, you told yourself, trying to shake it off. Every other bouquet has had a meaning that generally means the same thing. It won’t do you any good to keep obsessing over this.

You thought about consulting Nat, but you didn’t want to have to entertain the idea that it was Wanda who had been sending the flowers, even though there was a part of you that wanted it to be her. You had never liked admitting your crushes, and this time was no different.

Even though you tried to not think about the tulips, they occupied a permanent spot in your mind. You pulled away from everyone else, choosing instead to barricade yourself in the back of the store and fill orders instead of chatting with the customers. You asked Nat to come in a little earlier than usual for a few days, so you spent less time behind the counter, and there were times when you heard Wanda and Natasha talking out in the front of the store, but you never went out and said hello. Natasha seemed to notice that something was wrong, and you were thankful for your friend when you heard her tell Wanda that you were really busy one day when she asked where you were. She didn’t ask you what was wrong, which you also appreciated because you really didn’t want to talk about it. You knew she would probably set you straight and tell you that there was nothing to worry about, but you still didn’t want to have to admit to the thoughts you’d been having.

You should have known that Natasha was planning something though, because you knew your friend, and she was just too quiet. But you definitely didn’t expect anything when one morning she asked you if you would go and pick up coffee for the two of them, that she had already spoken to Sam and ordered, and all you had to do was pick them up. But when you walked into the cafe, Sam wasn’t behind the counter, and there was only one other person in the cafe. When you saw who it was, you tried to turn around and leave, but then you heard your name.

You didn’t speak as you sat down at a small table across from Wanda. “I feel like I should apologize,” she said, a worried look on her face. “I think I upset you with the flowers.”

“You didn’t upset me,” you said, your mouth dropping open when you realized what she had just told you. It took everything you had to stop yourself from smiling. “I just tend to overthink the meanings of flowers sometimes.”

“Natasha told me,” she said softly. “And she practically cornered me at work the other day, because she knew that it was me who was sending the flowers, and she wanted us to ‘stop dancing around each other.’”

You laughed. “Yeah, that’s Nat. She’s not afraid to tell it like it is.”

“She’s a great friend though,” Wanda said. “I probably would have never acted on my feelings if it wasn’t for her.”

“Your feelings?”

“Y/N, if it isn’t obvious by now, I like you.”

“Well, I didn’t want to assume-” you started to say, but she reached out and took your hand, and you trailed off.

“I sent you bouquets of flowers nearly three times a week and you didn’t want to assume?” she asked, a playful smile on her face. “I didn’t think I could make it any more obvious.”

The two of you spent the next hour just talking, alone in the empty cafe. It was a miracle that no one else came in looking for coffee, because you didn’t even know where Sam was. You kept trying to get up, because Natasha was back at the store by herself, but Wanda assured you that Nat had told her that she didn’t need your help, and that this was much more important. You finally did convince her to go back to the store with you, and she slipped her hand in yours as the two of you walked down the street to your shop. Just before you walked in the door, you stopped and looked at her. “Come work for me,” you said.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you said. “I’ve been thinking about hiring someone else for a while, and you already have experience with flowers. If you’d rather keep your other job I understand, but I don’t want to spend any more time away from you, because we were already stupid enough about admitting our feelings.”

“Well, when you put like that…” she trailed off, and you waited impatiently for an answer. “I don't usually give in to peer pressure, but I'll give in to yours.”

You couldn’t contain the smile that crossed your face, and you wouldn’t stop smiling for days after, as you began the next chapter of your life with her.

- the end -

#beccaswritingchallenge #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #wlw x reader

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damiano-mylove · 3 years

Text

Slice of Life

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x (mostly)GN!reader

Wc: 1.1 k

Cw(s): Arseholish ex-boyfriend, not just dialogue (tell me if it sucks and should go back to not posting)

Summary: Josh helps you discover how beautiful your slice of life is.

Masterlist

Previously, you had thought you had been in love before. You thought it was true, that it would last forever and ever - but nothing like that, out of a storybook, could ever have the legs to last forever. After all, forever is a long, long time.

You thought love was him pulling out your chair for you at dinner, then tucking you into the table. You thought it was the rich bouquet of flowers after fights. You thought it was letting you sleep in on weekends. But you were wrong, and that mistake lead to one of the lowest points of your life.

Then again, it lead to Josh.

After a few days of crying, you needed something other than work and your flat. So you took the beautiful Saturday to yourself. After wandering the chilly streets of the city, you stumbled upon an art gallery. You entered, forgetting your previous lover had been an artist - remembering only once you came across a massive canvas of the two of you in embrace.

You sat on one of the benches that littered the room. Your eyes refused to betray the canvas, but tears began to flood your eyes. How the fuck could he still enter that portrait, after he was caught red-handed? Thrown out of the flat you shared, which was under your name.

"I was hoping you'd come here," David whispered, his voice low and relieved. You didn't look at him as he sat beside you, putting his arm over your bent back. "It was meant to be an anniversary surprise, now it's just an apology."

"Well, that'd be a grand gesture if an apology actually came out of your lips," you sighed. You were embarrassed by the other patrons, looking at the two of you on the bench, then the two of you on the wall. You were tired and sad and this certainly was not helping. Standing up, you looked at David. "You really fucked up, David."

"You never call me David." His voice broke a little. Leave it to him to try and make it seem like you were the monster, breaking up with him, even after he fucked his best friend's girl, in your bed.

"What a shame for you," you replied in an irate tone. Taking a deep breath, you patted his shoulder. "I hope you're doing well and I hope I never see you again."

Before he could say anything else, you left. Tears no longer remained in your eyes. There was a certain amount of closure you got that day, that would be enough for you to finally get back on with your life. It had been so long since you'd been without David, it was refreshing.

You were content with being single.

Until you laid eyes on that curly brunet.

Months after David, you found yourself in a clothing store. It was a sort-of boho vibe in the store - lots of cotton, wicker, tweed and denim. And there he was. Perusing the women's trousers while you looked over the men's shirts. Both of you kept throwing looks to the other, just narrowly missing each look.

It didn't take long for him to come over and talk to you.

"Shopping for your boyfriend? Is it his birthday or something?" He asked you from over a rack. You chuckled, shaking your head.

"No, I just like clothes that fit me like ocean liners," you responded. The beautiful man smiled to you. "And you? Getting your girlfriend some jeans?"

"Far from it - I just needed some jeans that don't give me a cardboard box illusion." You laughed at his joke. His eyes sparkled under the dark LED lights above. "How about a drink sometime? Show each other the outfits we've bought?"

To say it caught you off-guard was an overstatement. You were just a bit...shocked. This guy was bold, he was beautiful, he was funny. And he went for you. The dots didn't connect in your mind, but you gladly accepted the invitation and Josh gave you his number and name.

You had to thank David. Without the bittersweet goodbye at the gallery, you wouldn't have wanted to still dress the same as you had. You wouldn't have been in the store.

The pub was just the first date of many. The second was a garden gallery, given it had just turned April and the flowers were coming out. Your third was to the cinema.

You had thought, surely, the honeymoon period would end after a few months. Josh would lose his allure, get annoying, become more of a liability than a partner. You were expecting it, you were ready for it.

It never came.

Months flew by and you realized that the honeymoon period had never ended. But all the signs were there. Josh was annoying and loud, but it had never pissed you off. Josh was a ball of energy, but it never rubbed you the wrong way. And, someway, somehow, he had managed to not even make an off-handed comment.

Josh asked you to move in with him, you agreed, but you had thought, surely, you would get sick of living with him within the first two months. Josh wouldn't clean up after himself, he'd bring people over all the time, he would forget his share of rent but always come home with new clothes. You were, once again, ready for it.

And, once again, it never came.

Instead, you came to the realization that Josh loved you. In a way you'd never expected, in a way that made your soul ache.

He didn't cook and clean by himself, but the two of you would equally split up household duties. If you cooked, Josh would do up the dishes, and vice versa. If Josh swept, you mopped. Josh, your beautiful boy, never expect you to be perfect, just that he would always have you in his arms as you two slept through the nights that were far too short.

When the two of you got into fights (it was unavoidable, but very rare), Josh made sure it was resolved by the time the two of you went to sleep. The two of you would talk it out (only once did you ever raise your voice, and you knew it was a mistake as soon as it happened, then it never happened again). Then a plan would be drawn on how to avoid the problem, how to fix it, so on and so forth. But Josh always followed through.

The love you and Josh shared, the life you shared, wasn't out of a crumby old storybook written by the Grimm Brothers. It was real. It was real life and the best possible version of it there had ever been. Onlookers envied you, your friends and siblings cheered you on.

Josh helped you realize the beauty of life, among other things. You realized true love is balance. You realized that love isn't a constant race, it's a comfortable marathon. You realized how much you loved your own slice of life, with your beau by your side. And you couldn't ask for anything more.

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #one shot #oneshot #josh kiszka oneshot #x reader #joshua gvf #joshua kiszka

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1863-project · 2 years

Note

Idk if you know anything about this, if not, I apologize.

I somehow convinced my sister that I want to go on a vacation (from canada) to New York to see the trains/subways. I've looked around the internet for some tours, and found some really interesting ones!

Though, do you know of any special places to visit? Either museums or locations that'd be interesting? Apart from the pokemon center shop of course lol

(A few years ago we went to NY and the tour guide told us to stay on the train past the last station -where it would turn around- to see an abandoned station. I spotted the entrance but that's it. Are there any other cool locations in your opinion?

Of course, only if you don't mind! Trains are just so interesting! Like, how the NY subway runs on metal wheels, compared to my city's subway tires (like a car, so rubber tires), and how the NY subway somehow chose to have the interior of the cabs have AC but all the heat is thrown out into the platforms? It's hilarious to me! And apparently they started including the Japanese point and call technique?? I love trains and subways!)

OH MY GOD, THAT WAS CITY HALL! That's my favorite subway station in NYC! It's the oldest, built when the NYC Subway opened in 1904, and it's gorgeous, with Guastavino tile on the ceilings. Here's what it looks like when it's lit up:

City Hall has been closed since the 1940s because the trains got longer and couldn't fit alongside the platform anymore, which is a shame because in my opinion it's the prettiest subway station in NYC. Right now, unless you go in via a New York Transit Museum tour, it might not be the safest to try to do the ride-through, because there's currently an initiative that forces everyone off at the end of lines (they're trying to "combat homelessness," but I suspect that isn't going to use the solution I would, which would be to house everyone so they had stability, give them access to mental health treatment and drug rehab programs, and help them find employment when they were settled).

If you're into trains, I highly recommend these places specifically:

Grand Central. You HAVE to see Grand Central in person to truly appreciate that ceiling. Check out the whispering gallery down by the oyster bar - if you stand diagonally across from someone and talk into the wall, they can hear you all the way on their side of the room! There's a library there that has the carpet from the 20th Century Limited (it's above the Apple store, which is currently trying to unionize), but I haven't even managed to get in there yet - it's by appointment and I've been busy.

If you want to cry, Penn Station. If you can find the brass rails from the original building, touch them and be sad with me. Moynihan Train Hall is an improvement, but it's not the original Penn Station and it never will be. Nothing will be.

The High Line! The High Line is a park that used to be a freight railroad. The New York Central used to own said railroad, and it used to go straight down 10th Avenue at street level to get to St. John's Depot. This did not go very well and a lot of people managed to get hit by trains, to the point that they started calling it Death Avenue. They actually hired men on horseback to precede the trains and warn the public they were coming - these men became known as the West Side Cowboys. Eventually, they figured out that they could elevate the line, which they did, building a new freight terminal (St. John's Terminal). The line was eventually abandoned, and it was rehabilitated into a park. It's a nice, relaxing walk with a lot of cool plants and art, and you get to pass through and near some old factories and drop-off points.

The New York Transit Museum. They're out in Brooklyn, so it can be a bit of a hike if you're mostly centering your trip in Manhattan, but if you like trains it is ABSOLUTELY worth it to go visit. Their collection of vintage equipment is amazing, and the station itself that the museum is housed in was a filming site for The Taking of Pelham One-Two-Three. You have to register for visiting times in advance right now, so if you're planning on including them in your trip in a few months book it now! They also have a secondary gift shop in Grand Central.

Hoboken Terminal. It's just a PATH ride away from Manhattan, and the ceiling of the waiting room has Tiffany glass skylights. Absolutely stunning, and you can then take the Hudson-Bergen Light Rail to...

Communipaw Terminal, in Jersey City, which I talked a bit about in this post. Both Hoboken Terminal and Communipaw Terminal have Bush train sheds, which were considered a revolutionary design at the time and are now historically significant.

Now, if you're looking for non-train stuff...

Nintendo NYC. I’m there frequently because, y’know, video game merch. If they do a Splatoon 3 release event I’m going to try to go to it, actually. If you’re looking for Pokemon plush, go to the second floor!

American Museum of Natural History. My favorite place in the entire world and where I wanted to work as a child (I wanted to be a paleontologist). I did my archival internship and practicum there when I was in grad school, fulfilling my childhood ambitions in a way. If you like dinosaurs, this is the museum for you! (Also has a great subway stop with cool art - 81st Street!)

Metropolitan Museum of Art. If you’re more into arms and armor, ancient Egypt, or historical art in general, this is the museum for you.

MoMA (Museum of Modern Art). MoMA has free admission on Friday nights, and it has some classics, like Andy Warhol’s soup cans and Van Gogh’s Starry Night!

Take a walk in Central Park. If you want to avoid the tourists, get up to the northern part of the park.

If you like Seinfeld, you can eat at Tom’s Restaurant. I was actually there just a few days ago. It’s a good place to get the real NYC diner experience.

Get a hot dog or pretzel from the street vendors. Trust me, just do it.

The real-life Casteliacone can be obtained from a Mister Softee truck, if you happen to see one!

If you want to go to the Statue of Liberty, that has to be booked months in advance, so be warned and plan ahead.

If you’re interested in LGBTQIA+ history, visit the Stonewall Inn. There’s a cool augmented reality history project associated with it called Stonewall Forever that I recommend as an archivist.

If you’re more punk, St. Mark’s Place used to be the center of punk activity in NYC. It’s toned down now, but there’s a rather NSFW (...interesting art within) izakaya called Kenka (lit. “brawl”) that’s the best place to get a meal for under $20 in NYC. You have to get there around 4:30, get your name on the waiting list, and then be there when it opens for the night around 5 pm to get in at a reasonable time without waiting too long. The waitlist WILL get long. Kenka actually appeared in the Love Live movie, and New Yorkers who saw the movie recognized it instantly and were extremely happy.

I hope this helps, and have a great time! If you get lost underground message me and I’ll get you to where you need to go safely - I’m verrrry good at giving subway directions!

#replies #kiviniik-morhen #NYC #I like trains #NYC Subway

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headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne · 3 years

Text

Bloodborne Chain 2

Original prompt: The day of Laurence' transformation.

@mrslittletall

It was time for the usual morning mass and Laurence was feeling terrible.

In truth, he had felt terrible for a while now.

His body had been plagued with fevers that made him feel like he burned from the inside and he swore, sometimes it even felt like he managed to melt things he touched.

He was suffering from intense nausea that he couldn't stave off... sooner or later he would end up in front of the toilet, or any other receptacle he could reach in time, and vomit out whatever he had eaten prior. The worse thing however, was that the vomit was uncomfortably hot and he sometimes had the feeling that he was throwing up literal lava. Judging by how red it looked, it may have been true, but Laurence still desperately hoped that it was just blood. Which was more than unsettling in its own right, but would be a lot better than what he feared it was.

The last symptom and the one that made him absolutely sure about which sickness he was suffering from, was the hunger... the desire to bite into anything vaguely human shaped and the times in which he had wanted to dissect a corpse and found himself having stuffed a finger in his mouth... or worse.

His hands were concealed by gloves. It was usual for him to wear gloves anyway, but in this times and days, he never removed them, because of his prolonged finger nails that reminded him very much of claws.

It was more than clear for Laurence that he was infected with the beastly scourge, the plague that had befallen Yharnam all this years ago and he didn't know just how much time he had left.

However, his poor state wasn't a reason to neglect his duties and so he stood up on the gallery to hold the mass like every morning and recited the prayer, until he was at the last few verses.

“Remain wary of the frailty of men.

Their wills are weak, minds young.

Were it not for fear, death would go unlamented.”

Almost done. Laurence took a deep breath and raised his voice to speak once again.

“Bless us with-”

A sharp pain stopped his words and he clasped a hand at his chest, where his heart was. That... that never had happened before. At the same time, the nausea washed over him. Oh no, not here, not in the open, with all the citizens and all the church ministers watching him.

Already they stared at him, clearly confused why he had stopped. He couldn't... couldn't stay here. Clasping his other hand over his mouth, he turned around to run... only managing a few steps before his body forced him to throw up right where he was, hot reddish vomit seeping through his fingers and hitting the floor with a sizzle.

“Vicar, what was that?”, he heard a voice next to him, one of the church ministers. More voices joined in soon.

“Your grace, did you just...?”

“...That looked like blood...”

“Are you feeling alright? Should we prepare a blood ministration?”

Laurence didn't feel ready to speak. He had the feeling when he opened his mouth, that the rest of his breakfast would make it out. He raised a hand, the one that wasn't clasped over his mouth and dismissed them. He didn't need any help. He just needed to be alone.

Before anyone could say something, Laurence was making a beeline to his office, shutting the door behind him with a loud noise and then... vomited out the rest of his breakfast into a bucket he had positioned there just for this case. I was filled with a little bit of water, to cool down the far too hot vomit. Even now he could see how the water in the bucket started to steam.

After he was done, Laurence wiped his forehead. The fever was back. He took a few steps back and then practically fell into his chair that was lined up with his desk. His breathing was slow and heavy and he needed a few minutes to even think about pouring himself a glass of water and washing the bad taste in his mouth away.

He looked down at his desk, where his notes were strewn everywhere. How long had he worked last night? Desperately trying to find a cure that he hadn't managed to find for years? Laurence removed his gloves and looked at his hands, seeing that his fingernails had prolonged even more over the night.

How much time had he left? Weeks? Days? Hours maybe?

He raised his head and got up, stepping in front of a mirror that was standing in his office. The claws were not the only clue. He could see the fangs, when he bared his teeth, small, but they were there, as well as his left eye which had started to collapse. One of the earliest signs of the scourge.

His gaze wandered to his door. After what happened just now, he shouldn't let himself be seen like that. He went to his door and turned the key in the lock, letting it stick before going back to his desk, where he sat down with a frustrated sigh and started to sort through his notes. As long as he still had time, he at least had to try. He wouldn't succumb to the scourge that easily.

As Laurence sorted his notes, his hand brushed against a certain item. He picked it up and stared at it.

A failed experiment from the early days of the Healing Church. A rune with which they had tried to control the beastly scourge, to at least let these people remain their humanity, if not their form. He knew that it was futile. The rune wouldn't help him, it would probably simply speed up his transformation.

Why did he have it still here? He didn't know. Maybe he had tried to base the cure around it. Laurence didn't remember. His memory was often hazy nowadays and so he brushed the rune to the side, instead reading up on the notes he must have worked on yesterday evening.

There must be a base to start somewhere. He only needed to find it. Wishing to be able to better concentrate, Laurence hooked himself up on a blood ministration. He would need the focus.

He almost missed the knock on his office door.

That Laurence had suddenly left the gallery mid prayer had been a cause of concern for Ludwig. He knew that Laurence hadn't been feeling well lately, as hard as he tried to hide it, but that had been the first time he had actively run away before having spoken out the adage to its end.

While everyone else present was starting to leave after a brief confusion, either going to their shops, workplaces or starting their duties in the church, Ludwig made his way up to the gallery, where he found the church ministers in the middle of a heated discussion.

“Excuse me, what happened here?”, Ludwig raised his voice to drown out their argument. “Where is Vicar Laurence?”

“Ah, Sir Ludwig, we were discussing this just now.”, one of the church ministers replied, while several others stared at Ludwig, making him feel like a whole row of eyes stared at him. “He seemed to be in pain and then threw up... it looked like blood.”

Ludwig had shouldered his holy moonlight sword as usual, but when he heard that, his grip around tightened and his eyes widened. “He did WHAT?! Why has nobody followed him?”

“He gave us a sign that he would be fine and you know how he is.”, the church minister said. “He would have just sent us away. We were actually just discussing how we could approach him about the issue, because...”

The church minister pointed at the ground and Ludwig could see that there was clearly a hole burned in the ground, an acidic smell coming from it.

“Is that where he...?”, Ludwig asked and before he could finish his sentence, the church minister nodded.

“Yes, where he threw up.”, they finished for Ludwig.

“That's not good... it's literally burned. I will go and try to talk to him. You stay here. Don't do anything withOUT my approval.” Ludwig waited until all of the church ministers gave him a bow and then made his way to Laurence' office with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

As he stood in front of it, he took a deep breath and then knocked at the door. “Laurence? I am going to come in.”, he said and tried to turn the handle, only to notice that the door was locked. “Laurence? Open the door, please.”

Laurence froze as he recognized the voice outside the door. The voice of Ludwig. Ludwig was the last person Laurence wanted to have in his office right now. He was a Hunter. He would recognize the signs, the signs that Laurence successfully had hidden from Ludwig for so long, by having him pushed away and shut out, a behaviour that he still didn't know why Ludwig tolerated it. He had been horrible to him and still, Ludwig would come and just tell him that it was alright, he would wait until Laurence felt better.

Only that Laurence knew he wouldn't get better, not when he wouldn't find a cure. So Laurence raised his voice and said: “I am fine, Ludwig, I am busy. Just go away. Please leave me alone.”

Ludwig couldn't come in and see him, he would notice the collapsed eye, the fangs, the prolonged fingernails. He would be forced to kill Laurence at the spot, as was the rule for church hunters, no one infected was to be left alive, but Laurence didn't want to force Ludwig to do this. Especially not when he had failed to make Ludwig hate him. Why had his boyfriend to be so kind and understanding?

“Laurence, I have been considerate with you for weeks now.”, Ludwig said. “I know you aren't feeling well and that you don't want much company, but... you have thrown up blood today at the morning mass. Blood that was hot enough to burn a hole in the ground. Laurence, whatever it is, that ails you, you don't have to go through this alone. Please, let me help you.”

Laurence felt a sharp stab in his chest at his words. This time it hadn't been from the scourge. He knew it was because Ludwig would be willing to stay with him and help him out and he wished so much that he could get into his arms and confess everything to him, but Laurence knew that he couldn't.

He couldn't let Ludwig know. He had to try and use all the time he had for finding the cure. How much he wished to just tell Ludwig the truth, he could, he just had to open the door and leave him in and confess about his ailment to him, but... he couldn't. Ludwig was the most loyal hunter of the church. He wouldn't stop because it was Laurence and Laurence knew that the action would break his heart.

“This none of your business.”, Laurence said, as cold as he could manage, even though he felt hot tears drop down his face. Not as hot as his vomit, but still hot enough to steam when they dripped on the ground. “Leave me alone. You can't help me.”

“Laurence, please.” Oh, Laurence just hated how pleading Ludwig's voice was. “You haven't been yourself lately. Please let me help you. I want to help you, but how can I help you when you don't let me be part of your life?”

More tears forced their way out of Laurence' eyes as he got up and walked towards the door and extended a hand, leaving it on the handle. He just had to unlock it and let Ludwig in and... no, he couldn't. He shook his head and sank down in front of the door, with his back to it.

“I... I can't...”, he sobbed, not being able to hold his tears back. “I just... can't...”

“Laurence, are you crying?!”, Ludwig shouted and frantically tried to turn the handle, several clicking noises proofing that his efforts were fruitless. “Let me in, Laurence, please.”

“No.”, Laurence said, his voice coming out strained. He took a deep breath and then shouted: “Just leave me alone and don't come back!”

“...”, there was an audible silence in front of the door. “I can't force you to open the door...”, Ludwig said and he must have removed his hand from the handle, because it went back to its original position. “But I won't leave you alone either. Just... please tell me what's wrong. Please, Laurence, just give me a chance.”

Laurence didn't reply as he got up, gaze on the ground, wiping away the fresh tears in his face.

If I let you in, you have to kill me.

The unspoken words hung in the air. Laurence couldn't bring himself to say them. He also couldn't bring himself to tell Ludwig to leave him alone anymore.

“Sir Ludwig, there have been beast sightings at the outer rim of cathedral ward!”, a hurried voice sounded, not belonging to Ludwig obviously.

“In broad daylight?! They are getting more and more brash.”, Ludwig gasped. “Laurence, I have to go, but I will come back and then I want for you to talk to me.”

There was around half a minute of silence before Laurence could hear footsteps that moved away from the door. Soon, they faded and Laurence took one step towards his desk, when the pain from earlier hit him again.

With a cry, he fell to his knees, doubled over in pain. This pain certainly was worse than earlier, he felt like he got ripped apart from the inside. Alongside the pain, he felt an itching sensation on his head, so much that he wished he could move and scratch his scalp open. It continued until the itching sensation became a new wave of pain, so intense as if something, anything wanted to force its way out of Laurence' head.

He spent a small eternity in this agonizing pain when it stopped as sudden as it had started. Breathing heavily, Laurence got up on his knees, staring at the splotches of blood on the floor, already sizzling into the carpet. He raised a shaky hand to touch his face and found blood. He couldn't remember getting injured, had he self harmed in his pain?

He slowly got up on his feet and limped to the mirror in his office, stopping before he even was in front of it. He didn't need to come closer to see what was wrong as his hand shot upward to confirm what he saw.

Antlers. He had grown some antlers, that now adorned his head, a thin stream of blood accompanying the place where they had forced their way through.

“I might have less time than I thought...”, Laurence gasped as he went a few shaky step to his desk and let himself fall down on his chair.

He could as well use this time and try to see if he at least managed to find a base for the cure. If he would transform and had to die anyway, he wouldn't just take it with his head bowed, he would scream and fight against it.

So Laurence straightened himself up, took a deep breath and then started to work.

An hour or two later, Laurence had scattered a variety of documents over his desk. Ideas where the beastly scourge came from. The first idea and the one he had followed the longest had been that it escaped the labyrinths. They had seen beasts down there and it felt like the most logical thing, that after they got unsealed, the sickness that was responsible for the beasts in there would be able to come out.

Though, they never had learned how the people down there had transformed...

Another idea had been that it was the fault of the vilebloods, but that couldn't be. As much as Laurence loathed, the beastly scourge had been there before the vilebloods had come into Yharnam and it didn't vanish once the executioners had been done with their job. The vilebloods had been beasts of their own, but that was a thing that Laurence couldn't blame on them.

A third theory, a theory that Laurence always had dismissed immediately, was that maybe the blood could be at fault. That instead of getting them closer to ascension, that humans would regress and that was the cause of the beastly scourge. Laurence had tested the blood rigorously and had been sure that it wasn't the case, but.. right at the moment he was staring at the newspaper story about Old Yharnam.

He remembered that night far too well. Finally having acquired enough umbilical cords to summon a Great One, one of the ascended, he had stepped outside and done the ritual, seeing as the Great One came from the moon. He had stepped forwards to ask her his questions, when Gehrman suddenly appeared and said something to the Moon Presence... and that had been the last time Laurence had seen Gehrman.

Shortly after, the worst hunt that had ever happened took place. Almost everyone in Old Yharnam had transformed. It had to be the influence of the moon, Laurence thought, as he stared out of the office of his window during that night, seeing the blood red moon in the sky.

In the end, Old Yharnam had to be burned down and sealed shut before the beasts would spread into the other parts of the town. Shortly after it happened, the blood red moon vanished and the longest hunt ever had been over... and Laurence had come out of it as a broken man, even though he didn't let it shine through.

Now that he looked at the article again, he noticed something. The article mentioned the sickness that had ailed Old Yharnam during that time.

Ashen Blood... in truth it had been a poisoning caused by the church. It hadn't been exactly on purpose, but the Old Yharnam citizens had been stubborn and when Laurence had learned that the poison of their research had leaked into the groundwater, he hadn't ordered for them to stop, instead he had brought the holy blood to Old Yharnam, to cure all these people and sold them on the holy blood.

A large amount of people had gotten the blood at the same time.

A large amount of people had transformed into beasts at the same time.

How could he have been so blind?!

Laurence shot up and practically ripped his current blood ministration out of his arm, a small stream of blood running down his arm, the wound closing shortly after, the healing effect of the blood taking action.

Laurence cleaned his arm from the blood and continued to think. That couldn't have been the only cause. There must have been a second cause. Not everyone who took the blood transformed. He himself had taken the blood almost daily for years and he was transforming only now.

Maybe it really was the moon...

Whatever it was, the blood certainly was one of the causes. Of course they could prevent further cases by ceasing to use the old blood, but that would be difficult.

Yharnam was reliant on the old blood. The whole town was based around it. If he would take it away, then the whole town would collapse. He would need a lot more time to figure out who to take the blood away from Yharnam.

The safest bet would be a cure, then they could keep using the blood without fearing the side effects...

Laurence sighed as he noticed that his train of thoughts involved the future, a future that he certainly wouldn't live to see anymore.

Though... with one of the causes figured out, he had a base to at least start. He leaned over his desk to search for a few more documents when the pain came back and this time it was paralysing. He fell down with his chair and convulsed on the ground for what felt like it was a really long time, paired with the same itchy sensation he had felt earlier, paired with an intense pain in his arm.

When the pain ended, he was lying there, gasping for air. It took him a few minutes to get up again. As he looked down on his hands as he propped himself up, one of them wasn't human anymore.

He could see long claws coming out from far too long fingers, the whole hand covered in shaggy fur and as his gaze followed his arm, he could see that it extended to it. His whole left arm had transformed into something so utterly inhumane that he wanted to retch.

Instead he walked the few steps to the couch and flopped onto it, cursing when he bumped his new antlers and then staring at the ceiling.

With the realization earlier about the old blood being one of the causes for the beastly scourge, his initial thoughts had been about how to handle this whole mess.

Now that his own transformation had completed another step, he had become aware that he had doomed Yharnam.

“All I wanted to do was help...”, he murmured, surprised that his voice still sounded human instead of beastly screeches leaving his throat. “I just wanted to help...”, he repeated, as if he wanted to convince a listener that wasn't there.

If only he had thrown the blood away once Master Willem had warned him about it. He probably owed the old man an apology. An apology that he would never be able to speak out. Was the old geezer even still alive?

As Laurence stared at the ceiling, he thought about all the friends he once had and had lost one way or the other, but almost all of them had left his life related to the old blood.

Caryll, who refused to study the old blood and had stayed in Byrgenwerth for their own studies about conversing with the Great Ones.

Maria, one of the best hunters he had ever seen, who got so disgusted with her own actions that she had chosen to take her life instead of living on with the guilt. She had been one of the most vehement defenders of the theory that the blood could have been at fault.

Gehrman, the first Hunter that Laurence had ever employed, the one he had lost to the Moon Presence. No, he had lost him earlier even, when his heart broke into a thousand pieces after Maria's suicide.

Micolash, his best friend and rival, who had become more and more recluse, stopped helping Laurence with the blood ministrations altogether and vanished one day to never be seen, but Laurence knew about a group that was antagonistic to the Choir and while he himself didn't fully trust them himself, the only person in charge of a group that would be able to mess with the Choir was Micolash.

Only Ludwig was left... and Amelia, his adopted daughter and future Vicar, and he had done his best to push both of them away in the last weeks. Especially Ludwig. That Ludwig still wanted to speak to him, baffled Laurence, he had been nothing but an asshole to him lately.

Laurence let out another deep sigh as he rubbed over his forehead, with the far too large beastly hand, feeling hot and sweaty. He could stay here and self loathe until he ran out of time... or he could get up and write down what he had found out so that Amelia and his church ministers could continue his research.

The most important thing would be to wean Yharnam from the blood. Laurence slowly got up. He had to make peace with the fact that he would die soon, maybe he already had made it, but he at least didn't want to leave Yharnam to ride into its certain doom.

It was difficult getting back to his desk. His vision seemed to swim and blur in front of him. Had he gotten up too quickly? No, it was the advanced transformation.

Just as Laurence had sat back down and straightened a piece of paper, taking up a pen to write down his last will, there was a knock on his door.

He froze briefly, asking himself if Ludwig had come back already? If, he would just send him away again. He needed to write his last will and after that... well, he probably would surrender and let himself be taken out before he became a danger to the church.

It wasn't Ludwig however. The voice outside of the door belonged to one of the highest ranking church ministers.

“Your grace, open the door. We have reasons to believe that you have been afflicted by the beastly scourge. As sad as this observation makes us, you know our rules and there can't be an exception, not even for you.”

Pinpoint the cancer and rip it out of Yharnam... Laurence remembered his own words about the matter.

Laurence opened his mouth to speak, to tell them that he would come to them later, that he needed to be alone now, but he was shaken by a horrible coughing fit. There even seemed to come smoke out of his throat... They certainly couldn't see him, when they would see him like this, they would execute him right away and he couldn't let that happen.

Couldn't they have discussed for half an hour more? All these boring meetings and today of all days they came to a conclusion early.

“Vicar Laurence, if you won't open the door, we will have to break it down. If you have nothing to hide, you will be able to open the door just fine, won't you?”

Damn. Laurence glared at the door, cursing his church minister in his mind with a dozen profanities in the span of a few seconds. He cleared his throat and finally managed to speak.

“I wish to be alone right now. I have urgent business to attend to and it can't wait only because of your outrageous accusations. I will make time for you later.”

So that they could execute him... Laurence cringed at the thought, but the church ministers didn't take his words. Of course, what had he expected? If he hadn't anything to hide, he could have just opened the door.

“Break the door down.”, the church minister ordered and Laurence knew that they had a hunter with them, probably multiple. He stared for a few seconds as the door got repeatedly knocked with a blunt object and only when it started to splinter he stared down at his still very blank last will.

In his panic, he wrote down the first thing that came to his mind.

“Fear the old blood.”

Just as he had finished writing, the door burst open and he could see a dozen church ministers as well as a few hunters out there. They stared as much as him as he stared at them.

His appearance was proof enough that he indeed had been afflicted with the beastly scourge.

“Vicar Laurence, you are hereby under arrest!”, the church minister announced in a clamorous voice and Laurence could see how the hunters stormed inside his office.

“Wait!”, Laurence said, both hands in the air, showing that he wasn't armed. The hunters stopped and looked at him, the church minister behind them having scrunched up his face.

“Don't show mercy just because he used to be our vicar.”

Speaking in the past of him, right in front of him. Laurence didn't had time to be offended though, he needed to tell them.

“Please listen to me!”, he said and then his world seemed to stop as his heart skipped a beat and the pain came back full force, in such a force that he couldn't speak anymore, only scream... a scream that didn't even sound human anymore.

From the corner of his eye, he could somehow see how the hunters started to move in his direction again. Laurence brushed over his desk... where was it.. his last will had been just in front of him, but which paper was it? It must be the one with fresh ink, but... he couldn't find anything with wet ink... instead, his hand closed around a small object.

It was the rune. Beast's Embrace. In the back of his mind he knew this was a bad idea. It had never succeeded before, but maybe it would help him regain his sense for long enough so that he could tell them about the dangers that the old blood possessed and how to handle Yharnam after his death.

Laurence embraced the rune with his beastly hand and concentrated on the arcane prowess inside of it... feeling how his pain eased down at first, he already was opening his mouth to speak, when his whole body felt like it would burst.

Failed.was the last conscious thought Laurence ever had, when his bones shifted and his veins popped, rearranging his body in a way that should be physically impossible. He heard how his clothes ripped open when he started to grow, he could feel the itching sensation of fur covering his skin accompanied by a blinding pain. Laurence couldn't see anything anymore, he only heard some shouting in the distance. He wanted to open his mouth to scream, but only a garbled screech came out of it as Laurence realized that his face had twisted into a snout with a row of razor sharp teeth.

He was crouched on the floor, with a claw on his hand... hissing because of the pain... He could smell blood... his blood... It hurt so much, so very very much... But, there was the smell of flesh... human flesh and he felt hungry... so very very hungry... maybe the flesh would help him ease the pain.

He took a step towards a smell and felt a new pain, sharp and annoying, at his leg and when he looked down he saw his attacker. He raised his hand and flattened them in an instant, the sweet smell of blood filling the air. He raised his hand to look at it, the urge to lick the blood clean of it strong, when a second sharp pain hit him.

Growling, he stepped forwards, glaring at the ones in front of him. He rose to his full height and let out a blood curdling screech, as he raised both of his arms into the air and then his fur ignited into fire.

He had to feast... that would stop the pain... it would stop the hunger... he had to hunt them down! With a second screech, he lunged at the first human that was dumb enough standing in front of him.

Once Ludwig returned to the church, it was on fire. With a gasp, he jumped off Midnight, his horse, and ran towards the entrance, stopping when he saw a black robed church hunter stare fearfully at the church.

“Hunter! What happened? Why is the church on fire? Why aren't you helping with evacuating?”

“Sir Ludwig, thank the blood that you returned! It's Vicar Laurence. He... turned. He had the scourge and hid it and now he is the most gigantic beast I have ever seen. He already has killed and devoured a dozen black robes! It was him who ignited the church, he's literally on fire! He's... he's out of control!”

The church hunter took a few steps back after his rant and took a deep breath before he fell down to his knees and... seemed to pray. Ludwig could hear how he called for the aid of the Great Ones, faintly, when his own mind raced.

He had heard them, the words of the black robe. He had been very clear about it. Laurence had turned... his Laurence did have the beastly scourge, the one he loved more than anything in the world, the one who had done his damn hardest to not let Ludwig be part of his life for the last few weeks.

Oh!

It had been so obvious, but Ludwig had decided to ignore him.

Laurence always had eaten his food without saying a word, but had vanished shortly after and often Ludwig had seen him come out of the bathroom wiping his mouth.

He did have increasingly fevers, sometimes they seemed to be getting so worse that he felt like he was on fire.

He never had taken off his gloves.

He had stopped to see Ludwig altogether for the last three weeks, telling him that he was busy and not feeling well and didn't want to get his ailment to spread to him because the holy blood had troubles with healing it.

“Laurence... why haven't you told me...?”, Ludwig said, tightening his grip around his holy moonlight sword before he rushed into the church. Even though he knew that the black robe didn't have any reason to lie, even though he had seen the signs, signs that his past self had ignored, a part of him still wouldn't believe that it was Laurence after he had seen him with his own eyes.

Inside the church, there was chaos. Smoke, flames and rubble. Ludwig covered his mouth and nose with his shawl and approached a group of black robes that tried to free a trapped blood saint from a column that must have fallen on her leg.

Ludwig easily lifted the column and after the blood saint had been safely pulled out, he grimly said: “Where?”

With a shaking hand, one of the black robes pointed deeper into the church. Another one added in a low voice: “Follow the flames...”

Ludwig was doing exactly that.

He actually did find a beast inside the church, in one of the conference rooms where it was busy trashing chairs and tables. The black robe hadn't lied, that was the tallest beast he had ever seen. Easily seven meters or more.

Knowing how small and scrawny Laurence was, Ludwig barely could believe that the beast could be him.

The beast was literally on fire. It wasn't because someone had ignited it, it's fur possessed a fiery quality on its own. When it screeched, a sound that made Ludwig cringe and wince, he could see burning hot magma gathering in its throat.

The left hand was mutilated into a giant claw, far larger than the right claw. The snout was filled with a row of razor sharp teeth and a set of large antlers grew out of its head.

In the corner of his eye, Ludwig saw two black robes approaching the beast, their weapons raised while the beast was distracted smashing and igniting another chair, but the moment their attacks connected with its rear, it stopped and turned around.

Ludwig had never been faster to join a fight, his holy moonlight sword blocking a hit of that immensely large left claw. The force was enough to even knock him several feet back.

“Leave!”, Ludwig ordered the black robes. “Help with evacuating the church! I handle things here!”

The two of them were on their feet in an instant and ran towards the direction of the grand cathedral, while Ludwig eyes his foe.

Could that really be Laurence?

There was a glimmering of gold in front of the chest of the beast.

Ludwig's eyes widened as he recognized what it was.

The Vicar's pendant... Laurence would always wear it, every single day. There was no doubt.

“Laurence...”, Ludwig choked out, feeling tears form in his eyes, tears that didn't had time to spill, because Laurence used his moment of hesitation to hurl him into the next best wall.

Ludwig was blinded briefly by pain as one or two of his bones cracked. He slammed a blood vial into his tight and stood up again, he was the captain of the church hunters. He was used to receiving injuries like this. Nothing that the blood couldn't handle.

...Laurence had always said this.

Upon seeing that his prey had escaped him, Laurence screeched and his large claw came rushing down once again on Ludwig. Ludwig stepped to the side, a technique that Gehrman had taught him. A technique that each Hunter should master, or they wouldn't stand a chance against the beasts they fought.

“Laurence...”, he said again, now feeling the tears in his eyes spilling. “You aren't recognizing me anymore, do you..?”

No, of course not. Nobody had ever come back after transformation. There was only one thing Ludwig could do right now.

Give him a swift death.

Ludwig dodged another swipe of that large claw and propelled his sword into Laurence' right leg. He screamed in pain and... what sounded like frustration.

Ludwig removed his sword and saw far too hot blood gushing out of the wound, igniting the carpet around them.

“You didn't want for it to be me...”, Ludwig murmured to himself as he circled around Laurence, who growled and spluttered at him. Ludwig had always thought that the beasts still looked a tiny bit human. It was no different with Laurence, as grotesque as his body had become, the way he still kept himself upright on two feet and the way he mostly used his claws for attacking... it was one of the most uncanny things about being a hunter. The knowledge that once this wretched abomination had been a human.

It was different when it was his own lover and the head of the church though.

“You didn't want that I had to kill you.”, Ludwig finished his thought. “I would love to make it painless for you, but...”

Ludwig's voice trailed off as he was unable to finish the sentence. He knew that he had to strike Laurence down, he knew that he had to inflict a mortal injury on him to stop his rampage, but... it felt so hard to take the next step. Ludwig looked down at his arm and saw that he was trembling.

That had never happened before.

The arm holding his sword was trembling.

Next thing Ludwig felt was an intense pressure around his chest as Laurence' claws enclosed around his body and lifted him up in the air.

Ludwig stared at Laurence' face.. the face that wasn't his boyfriend's anymore. That was the face of a beast. A beast that would kill anything that crossed its path. A beast that was a danger. For the church, for Yharnam. A beast that had to be taken out.

As Laurence opened his mouth Ludwig wrestled his right arm free of his grip and then drove the sword deep into the open maw of him.

A garbled screech was to hear. Ludwig tried to shove the blade even deeper inside, but get hurled against the wall before he could even properly grab it. This time he had been prepared however and managed to endure the impact with minimum damage.

Laurence was howling in pain, bringing both claws up to his snout, fumbling for the sword stuck in his maw. Ludwig rolled himself up and put a safe distance between him and Laurence, as he managed to remove the sword and hurled it towards the same wall Ludwig had impacted with, blood gushing out of the wound. Blood that looked a lot more like lava.

Ludwig's feet carried him over to the place where his sword had landed. He grabbed for it and as his hands enclosed it, he could see the little lights. His guiding moonlight.

“My guiding moonlight... are you sure about this?”, he said, but he didn't have a reason to not believe its guidance. It always had been right. Ludwig turned around and looked at Laurence, who, in the meantime, had recovered from the pain, blood seeping out of his mouth as he growled in Ludwig's direction.

As he saw how Laurence set up for a lunge, he took the holy moonlight sword with both hands and directed it towards Laurence. He concentrated on the little lights and he was sure about it, they guided him towards a specific strike.

As Laurence executed his lunge, Ludwig ran towards him, following the little lights, jumping in the air shortly before Laurence' large claws let the ground shake and while Laurence was open, he rushed down and drove his sword into his skull, right where his eyes normally would have been.

He could hear the skull cracking as Laurence shrieked in pain. Ludwig landed on the ground, a hand still on his sword as Laurence started trashing around. Ludwig held on for dear life until Laurence laid on the ground, exhausted. Ludwig used that time to remove his sword, wincing in pain as far too hot blood gushed over him and made his skin blister. As long as Laurence was still stunned on the ground, he had to act quickly. Ludwig took a big swing with his sword and let it crash down on the wound.

Laurence cracked skull broke with an audible sound and he twitched for a few seconds.

Then, he stopped moving altogether.

Ludwig slowly approached Laurence. He didn't appear to be breathing anymore. It was over.

All the adrenaline of the fight left him at once. He felt tears streaming down his face. He collapsed on his rear, vaguely aware that the fire the room was coated in wouldn't stop burning and he likely would be reduced to ashes soon if he didn't move.

Nothing of it mattered to him in the moment however. He itched closer to Laurence' dead body, hugging the giant beastly skull, not caring that his burns got even worse as his tears freely fell down and produced steam on Laurence' still hot body.

“Oh, Laurence...”

@palepious

@thefatladysang All the Channels of the City Streets

The sun blazes before them, its visage cracked and marred by the stark outline of the tree branches, bare of all leaves save for those foolish enough to try and cling to the long dead branches. Against the light, Ludwig narrowed his eyes, squinting at the figure before him.

“He doesn’t understand, you see?” the figure says and Ludwig nods in reply.

“I know. Were it up to Provost Willem, the Old Blood would never see the light of day.” The figure nods and lets out a snort of annoyance at the mere mention of the Provost.

“The old fool is sorely mistaken. The Old Blood is meant to be feared or restricted.” He turns, facing the woods and the city beyond them. “The power to cure the sick, heal the wounded, alleviate the suffering of others…” He pauses and Ludwig finds himself breathless at the sheer generosity and selflessness of the man’s vision. A better life for the common man, a hopeful future for those who had none… His back is turned towards Ludwig, but the other man knows that his exhilaration and hope mirrored on the other’s face.“This was a miracle meant to be shared with Yharnam. Not hidden away in Byrgenwerth for the rest of eternity. I don’t see how Willem could be so blind to the good it could do.” Ludwig nods, despite the fact that the man cannot see his agreement. The man turns, the burning rays of dying sunlight framing his youthful face and bright green eyes as full of hope and exaltation as Ludwig had imagined it would be and he finds himself breathless in the face of such beauty once again. “You’ll join me, won’t you?” There’s no hesitation in Ludwig’s answer.

“Of course.”

“You won’t betray me?”

“By your side, I will happily remain.”

And so they left, heading westward towards the burning sun, towards Yharnam, towards their vision of the future…

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

The afternoon sun climbed higher above Yharnam, occasionally filtering through the heavy clouds and into open windows to warm the inhabitants within and flitting over the hunched form of Ludwig as he trudged through the candlelit halls of the vicarage. Hunts were never easy and last night had been no exception. Whatever plague had birthed the beasts seemed to be spreading as the days went on. More and more beasts were popping up in the city and Ludwig couldn’t help but wonder if there would ever be an end to them. He and his men had found four stalking the streets earlier and they’d had to pull no less than two away from an older, obviously ill man unfortunate enough to have been caught without shelter. It was the thought of the long limbed and uncannily thin man’s gratitude, his wide smile and look of relief as Ludwig and his hunters had rallied to his aid had been worth everything; worth every sore muscle, worth every imaginary pound of weight in his limbs, worth every twinge of exhaustion after nights filled with more and more hunting and less and less sleep.

That being said… he thought as he came to a halt before a small but ornate looking door. It’s not only the Hunters who have been kept busy… His fist tightened around the medallion emblazoned with the crest of the Healing Church clutched within, It had been a token of gratitude from the older man, an attempt to repay the Hunters for their services. He’d claimed that it was the most valuable thing he owned, that he’d etched and engraved the image himself, and that it might fetch a fair bit of coin. The very idea of selling it was enough to make Ludwig scowl as he raised a gloved fist, knocked on the door and was met with only silence. He tried again. Still no reply. It was only with the third knock that the sound of irritated grumbles and the creaking sound of a body vacating a bed reached his ears. Good. He was finally awake. The heavy door inched open and Ludwig was greeted with a steely glare and tousled blonde hair that seemed to glow golden in the flickering light of the hallway candles.

“What do you want?” Laurence grumbled and Ludwig couldn’t help but give the rumpled looking Vicar a fond smile.

“Do I need a reason to visit an old friend, Laurence?” The man’s eyes narrowed further as the door began to close in Ludwig’s face. Apparently a reason was required. Luckily, Ludwig had one. He reached out to catch the door and Laurence sighed rather impatiently. “I met a man in the city during the Hunt earlier. His name is Alban Kent.”

“And?”

“He’s very ill and in great need of blood ministration.” Laurence blinked once, then twice as a shade of incredulity began to mingle with the impatience on his features.

“You’ve disturbed my rest to tell me that?” He practically hissed the words out and while Ludwig’s smile remained tense, it remained in his face nonetheless.

“It’s nearly noon Laurence! Surely you haven’t been sleeping all this time!” He boomed out a laugh as though the two were sharing a simple joke between friends. Laurence did not join in his laughter and Ludwig’s guffaws eventually died down as he looked, really looked at the man before him; his mussed hair, the dark circles beneath his eyes, the rumpled bed shirt, the fact that he was still wearing a bed shirt at this hour. “Have you been sleeping all this time?” Laurence sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head as though trying to dislodge the conversation itself.

“Very well.” He muttered. “Next time you see this “Alban Kent,” kindly inform him that he’s been granted entry through the Great Bridge to the Cathedral Ward.” Ludwig for his part, was so caught up in the state of the other’s well being that it took him a moment to realize what Laurence had said, and another moment for him to remember why he’d sought out Laurence in the first place. He nodded again and promised to promptly pass the news along to Alban Kent, eyes never leaving the Vicar’s face as Laurence bid him farewell and attempted to pull the door closed. Ludwig’s hand didn’t budge.

“Are you feeling well, Laurence?”

“I’m fine Ludwig.” He snapped as he wrenched the door out of Ludwig’s grip with a strength that did not match his slight frame and harrowed appearance. “I only require rest. Something you seem insistent on keeping me from at the moment.” The candles in the hall sputtered and flared, deepening the shadows on Laurence’s face as he glared at Ludwig with such venom and contempt that the Hunter found himself rendered speechless. It was in this pause in their conversation that Ludwig could finally take in the other man’s appearance, the deep and dark circles beneath his eyes, the way his frame seemed almost impossibly gaunt, wondering why he had failed to notice it before now. He looked haggard, not at all like an indolent and slothful man who was merely annoyed at being disturbed from an unnecessary sleep. He truly did need to rest…

“My apologies.” Ludwig bowed his head and turned to leave when he felt a smaller, bony hand land on his arm.

“No, I needn’t have snapped at you Ludwig.” All the scorn and disdain had left Laurence’s voice, leaving the man sounding only regretful and exhausted. “I’m tired. That’s all.” The fond smile returned to Ludwig’s face as he turned back towards the other man, placed his hand over Laurence’s gave, what he hoped, was a comforting squeeze to it.

“Then I will leave you to it. Get some rest Laurence.” The Vicar said nothing, merely pulled his hand back from Ludwig and closed the door with a resolute thud, leaving Ludwig in the hallway staring after him. He hadn’t noticed the state of the other’s well-being until now. Had he been besieged by some form of illness? Were the duties of maintaining and leading the Healing Church wearing on him? Was it the threat of the Beast Plague? When had Ludwig become so busy hunting and slaying beasts to realize that Laurence was not well whatsoever? What if treatment was impossible? What if-

Ludwig gave a shake of his head to interrupt the thoughts plaguing him. Such events were not things that he could afford to think about in that moment. As the Vicar of the Healing Church, Laurence would surely receive treatment for whatever was vexing him. He had beasts to hunt, a medallion to return, and a Yharnamite to find and bring to Cathedral Ward. With that, ignoring his heavy exhaustion and the feeling of muscles twitching beneath his skin, Ludwig turned and strode down the hall.

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

It was several days later and the moon hung high and wide in the evening sky, occasionally blurred and obscured by the low hanging clouds above Yharnam. Citizens were asleep in their beds, the city streets were almost empty and peaceful. And then the shrieking howl of a beast pierced the night as it’s massive body barrelled through the streets, the Hunters of Yharnam close behind. One broke away from the group in a desperate sprint, weaving through the cobblestone streets after the monster until he lunged forward, axe digging into the muscle and fur of the beast’s leg, drawing a spray of blood that splashed against the walls and windows of the surrounding buildings. The beast made a sharp turn. Yellow eyes blazed bright with murder, its muzzle lunged forward and fangs dug into the neck of the unfortunate hunter, sending a greater torrent of red ichor into the air as it began to tear into the man. A gurgling scream rose from his open throat as the rest of the group backed away, reluctant to interfere at the risk of their own lives. All at once, a strange green glow lit the alleyways and a beam of what appeared to be moonlight made solid blazed forward and into the beast, knocking it backwards onto the stones of the streets. It did not rise.

Panting, Ludwig rolled his shoulders and straightened, the glow of his sword dimming as though to mirror its owner’s exhaustion after the chase. This was the fourth beast they’d encountered that evening and the night was still so young. There was no telling where the other beasts were lurking, where they could be hiding or how many were holed away within the city. He rolled his shoulders again, wincing slightly as the muscles in his arms twitched beneath his skin. For the moment, his men could rest, recuperate, and-

“Behind you sir!”

The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood rose in Ludwig’s ears. Heeding the warning, he ducked forward into a roll, turning the second his feet were firmly affixed to the ground. The sword, once again glowing an ethereal green, swung upwards, carving through the beast’s chest and arching upwards to nearly cleave it in two. It was over in less than a second and Ludwig simply leaned on his blade and tried to catch his breath, now covered with the deep red blood of the beast.

“Where the hell did that one come from?” He gasped, feeling muscles shudder beneath his skin from the excitement. His group of Hunters looked at each other.

“It almost seemed as though it sprang from inside the house, sir.” It was the man who’d shouted the warning. “I saw it through the window behind you, bounding towards it like, well like a beast.” Gathering his breath, Ludwig fought against the heaviness in his shoulders and straightened to clasp the other man’s shoulder, giving him a fatigued, but grateful smile.

“You have my thanks.” He murmured, giving him a pat before striding forward towards the body of the beast. It was thinner, more gaunt than the one they had been chasing throughout the streets. The thing was smaller overall with two legs that almost looked as though it could be bipedal. The torches flickered again and caught the glint of something silver within the fur of the Beast. Perplexed, Ludwig bent forward, trying to ignore the ache in his knees to part the coarse hair and get a better look at-

At the silver medallion emblazoned with the crest of the Healing Church…

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

The moon, still wide and white as a smile hung much lower in the sky when Ludwig arrived at the heavy wooden door once again. He raised a fist and hammered it against the wood as though trying to knock it down with his bare hands. The reply came much sooner this time, more grumbles and noises of complaints. Ludwig heard them, but at the moment he couldn’t quite bring himself to give a damn. There was a creak and the ever familiar sight of an annoyed, somewhat sleepy looking Laurence came into view as the door opened.

“I can accept you waking me in the afternoon Ludwig, but this-”

“The Old Blood is causing the Beast Plague.” Immediately, Laurence perked up, eyes going wide with shock and Ludwig could practically see his spine stiffen as he was grabbed and pulled into the bedchamber. The door thudded closed behind them and Laurence began to busy himself with the tinderbox, hunting around the room for a candle. The match was struck, a weak flickering light came into existence and Laurence gestured towards the bed, silently imploring Ludwig to sit.

“What have you found out?” He inquired, much calmer than he’d been in the hallway. “Tell me everything.” And Ludwig did. He told him about his encounter with Alban Kent while on a hunt, about how he’d been given the medallion as a form of payment and had returned it during Alban’s visit, how he’d been on a hunt barely an hour earlier only to encounter the beast wearing the pendant. The whole time, Laurence’s expression never changed. Occasionally, the Vicar would nod in acknowledgement, but there was no fear, no rage, not even a response to any of Ludwig’s statements. He was silent while Ludwig explained his findings and remained silent for several moments after Ludwig had finished. On any other topic, Ludwig would have allowed him the time to quietly think, to turn over the information he’d been given to formulate a course of action and how best to implement it. But this was a different matter altogether. Ludwig needed answers, needed some sort of plan, and Laurence just sat there, hands folded together beneath his chin, staring into the flickering candle and said nothing.

“Well?” Ludwig demanded.

“Well what?” Laurence’s tone was smooth, even, almost unconcerned. And Ludwig felt his blood boil.

“Well you need to stop Blood Ministration immediately!” He roared, rising from where he’d been sitting on the bed to stride forwards towards the other man. “If the Old Blood is responsible for creating beasts, we need to stop treatments and-”

“Ludwig.” The Vicar barely even needed to raise his voice and Ludwig found himself cut off. Voice betraying nothing about his thoughts, Laurence continued.“Are you aware of how many Yharnamites come to the Cathedral Ward for Blood Ministration a day?” The words hung heavy in the candlelit air between them as Ludwig’s jaw hung open for a moment or two.

There was no way-

There was no way Laurence could even think that-

“Laurence-”

“Almost fifty Ludwig. Every single day. And that is simply the people we treat for day to day ills and injuries.” Heedless of Ludwig’s attempted interjection, Laurence gazed over the tops of his folded hands at the Hunter. “Have you any idea how many of them have been genuinely cured of their illness and ailments?”

“Laurence, you’re not-”

“All of them Ludwig. Every single person who comes through the Cathedral Ward leaves in almost perfect health every time.” No, he couldn’t be thinking- “What do you think would happen to those if your little discovery were to be disclosed to the populace of Yharnam? What would happen if we were to stop Blood Ministration altogether?”

“The Beast Plague would cease and the people would no longer be threatened!” Ludwig roared once again, muscles coiling and writhing beneath skin in his anger. He paid them no mind and continued to advance towards the First Vicar. “You can’t honestly expect me to-”

“All the efforts and accomplishments we’ve been working towards will be undermined!” His voice had raised slightly, rage barely noticeable but for the few who had known Laurence, truly known him, for years. He stood slowly, full height barely coming up to Ludwig’s chest, but by God did he make good use of every inch. “You claim you want what is best for Yharnam? The Old Blood has ensured that the city thrives, that its people can be healed and made well no matter their standing or station. Do you truly seek to undermine all our efforts Ludwig?”

“Of course not. But if you-”

“And you are worried for nothing. We are already working towards a solution to the plague.” Laurence finished his rant, fixing Ludwig with an icy glare as though daring him to continue the argument. To his credit, Ludwig didn’t so much as flinch, fixing Laurence with a glare of his own.

“What solution?” Laurence did not flinch either at the question, but there was a distinct lack of an answer as well that did not go unnoticed. “What kind of solution are you working towards Laurence?” The other man did not answer some time. Seconds, minutes, hours may have passed by before Laurence finally broke eye contact to turn his gaze out the window towards the pale moon. For a moment, he said nothing and Ludwig wondered if the two of them were destined to remain in silence for the rest of eternity. And then…

“The Choir has made contact with Ebrietas. They’re close to a revelation regarding the nature of the Beast Plague and how best to stop it.” The reply was said to the window, Laurence still refusing to meet his gaze, as though anticipating Ludwig’s reaction and the subsequent look of distress mingled with outrage.

Ebrietas.

“You’re relying on that-” Ludwig cut off, swallowing around the lump that had suddenly risen in his throat at the mere mention. He’d only seen the Daughter of the Cosmos once, back when the Healing Church had still been young, back when using the Old Blood as a medium for healing and medicine had been a revolutionary idea. It had only been once, only the briefest of glimpses. But what little he’d seen had remained with him for weeks, months, and would likely remain with him until he died.

And Laurence wanted to rely on her- on it, for help with the epidemic ravaging their city. “Your plan is to rely on that thing!?” He hissed, advancing towards Laurence, the rage bubbling beneath his skin nearly tangible. “Making deals with beings man was not meant to comprehend? Endangering the lives of the citizens of Yharnam?” HIs anger and frustration with the other man burst forth and Ludwig surged forward, gripping Laurence’s upper arms tightly and giving him a rough shake that lifted Laurence partially off the floor. “What are you thinking Laurence!?” There was no response as Laurence continued to gaze out of the window. The man’s apparent indifference to Ludwig’s outburst enraged Ludwig even further and he nearly found himself overtaken by the urge to rip the other man limb from long limb when he noticed the Vicar’s eyes, yellow sclera glazed and glassy. And Ludwig felt a cold sense of dread come over him as the pieces began to fall together. Yellow eyes, long limbs, a persistent fever, the strange way his face had grown gaunt and longer in the time since the founding of the Church... “Laurence?” The eyes closed as Laurence drew a quivering breath.

“Their lives are not the only ones at risk, Ludwig.” He murmured, eyes still glassy, still refusing to meet Ludwig’s. “The best way to study the effects of a substance on the body of humans is to experience said effects yourself after all.” Laurence smiled, gave a rueful chuckle as though the two of them were simply conversing as two old friends, as though Ludwig’s fingers and body hadn’t gone numb causing his grip on Laurence to loosen just enough for the Vicar’s feet to touch the floor once again. And still he continued speaking. “If Ebrietas is not forthcoming, then my own experiences with the plague should be rather enlightening.” He finally looked up, finally met Ludwig’s eyes and gave a rueful, almost sad smile. “Don’t give me that look Ludwig.” He gently admonished the other and Ludwig vaguely became aware that his face had contorted in a look of despair. “If all else fails then…” He swallowed, nonchalance taking on a newly unearthed fear at the unspoken certainty of his future. “Well, I’ve trained Amelia for this exact scenario. She’s a worthy successor already…” He trailed off, looked off towards the moon through the window once again and left Ludwig to stew over the night’s revelations.

He’d been foolish really. The conclusion of Laurence’s fate should have been obvious to Ludwig from the moment he’d realized where the Scourge of the Beast came from. The Old Blood caused the Beast Plage, and Laurence, as the First Vicar of the Healing Church and pioneer of Blood Ministration itself, had naturally been partaking the blood as far back as their days as students in Byrgenwerth. Had that not been how they’d discovered its medicinal properties? Or rather, how Laurence had discovered its medicinal properties? Had Laurence known? Had he known of the Beast Scourge the entire time? Or had the information made itself known to him at a later time? Through his continued contact with that thing beneath the Cathedral? Or had Laurence simply noticed the pattern between those who contracted the affliction and the patrons of the Healing Church? Thousands, millions of questions bouncing around Ludiwg’s head, vying to be spoken, practically tumbling over themselves to be the first out of his mouth. And yet, the sight of Laurence, looking haggard, uneasy, and more scared than Ludwig could ever recall seeing him in the time they’d known each other, rendered every single question and query silent. What could he say? What words could possibly offer comfort to a man who knew he was destined for a fate that would surely be worse than death for a man sworn to eradicate plague and disease?

“With how much you’ve been sleeping well into the afternoon she’s practically running things already…” Though despondency did not leave his face, Laurence managed a brief chuckle and a smile at the comment.

“That she is…” He murmured in reply. For a moment, the two said nothing, just standing in the warm, sputtering glow of the candle on the bedside table as they tried to keep their wits, tried to pretend that all their work wasn’t for nothing, trying to pretend that one of them was not only a few steps away from a horrific fate. And then Laurence looked up, finally meeting Ludwig’s brown eyes with his own, now yellow eyes. “You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” The question was softly asked, Laurence’s voice quivering with an insecurity he would rather die than show the masses of Yharnam. “Until the end?” And with a final squeeze to the other’s shoulders, offering comfort rather than consternation, Ludwig replied with his own miserable smile.

“Of course.”

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

He’d been returning from another nightly hunt, exhausted and covered in the blood of beasts when he saw the strange glow through the spires of the Cathedral Ward. Smoke was billowing into the night air from deeper within the ward. Ludwig only had a moment to take in the horrifying sight, had only a moment to wonder what had happened, whether the Clerics had been evacuated, whether Laurence was safe or not, before another Hunter was running towards him, eyes wide and panicked. Ludwig ran forward to meet him, expecting news of the fire, what had caused the blaze, if it was an accident or deliberate. The Hunter wasted no time, calling out to him immediately.

“There’s a Beast! In the Cathedral Ward!” Ludwig felt his blood freeze. Whatever he’d been expecting, it certainly hadn’t been to hear that they were under attack. With no hesitation, Ludwig gripped the hilt of his blade, accelerating and calling over his shoulder.

“Where is it?”

“It’s in the Grand Cathedral.” The Hunter called back, struggling to keep up as the two of them ascended the stone steps. The streets were deserted, sparks and embers dancing in the air around them as Ludwig could feel the air grow thicker with heat as they approached the Cathedral. Were the beast and the blaze connected somehow? A thought suddenly occurred to Ludwig and he felt his stomach drop to the stones beneath him. The blaze was visible now, even from the low level of the Round Plaza, he could see the edifice of the Great Cathedral, partially obscured by the flames that threatened to consume the entire Ward. Pausing for the first time that night, he turned to the Hunter.

“Where is Laurence?” The Hunter paused, a look of confusion spreading across his face, likely due to Ludwig’s use of the Vicar’s given name. Ludwig however did not have the patience for such things. “Do you know where the First Vicar is?” A look of horror crossed the other man’s face and he turned his gaze towards the stone steps leading up to the currently burning Cathedral.

“I, I heard that he’d gone to the Great Cathedral to pray but-” He may have said something afterwards, or perhaps he’d simply cut the statement off right there. Either way, Ludwig heard nothing over the ringing in his ears the news brought. Laurence had been in the Cathedral. The Cathedral that was now engulfed in flames. The burning Cathedral that a beast had last been seen in…

With a shake of his head, Ludwig grit his teeth and clutched the hilt of his blade so tight he could feel his knuckles turn white. He had to think, had to focus. Laurence was likely-

The Church would-

“What about Amelia?” The Hunter’s head shot up, taken aback by Ludwig’s sudden question. “Where is she?”

“I heard she was taken to the Church of the Good Chalice.” He replied. “Far as I can tell, she’s safe, sir.” And with that, Ludwig let out a shaky breath. Laurence may be-

Laurence was probably-

Even so, the Healing Church would rebuild, would rise from the tragedy under Amelia’s guidance. So long as she was safe, so long as she could lead, they would recover.

But they would not do much with a Beast burning down the Great Cathedral.

Gripping the hilt of his sword once again, Ludwig turned and faced the other Hunter.

“Gather as many men as you can. We can’t let it escape!” The Hunter gave a nod and almost ran off before a look of uncertainty crossed his face, nearly making Ludwig scream with impatience.

“Sir it- It’s different somehow. I don’t think we can-” And Ludwig was gone before the other could speak any further, bounding up the stairs towards the blazing Cathedral, heedless of the flames and scorching heat surrounding him. The doors were wide open, flames licking the stone entryway as Ludwig peered inside. Even partially obscured by heat and fire, Ludwig could see that the Hunter had been right. This Beast was different, far bigger than the others he’d encountered previously. Nothing to be done about it. Clenching his eyes, Ludwig dove forward, leaping into a roll through the flame and coming to his feet on the heated stone floor before the beast.

Steeling his eyes, Ludwig ignored the beast and cast his gaze around the interior of the Cathedral, looking for some sign of Laurence. There was nothing. No blood on the floor, no tattered pile of clothes, no blood-soaked body lying somewhere in the corner. For a moment, only a moment, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Either Laurence had escaped, or…

And then his eyes fell on the Beast.

It easily dwarfed him, nearly reaching the upper levels of the Cathedral while standing on its hind legs. Shaggy grey fur covered a body that was wreathed and alight with flames. At the sound of feet hitting stone, the thing turned its mangled antlered head towards him, drew itself up to its full height and bellowed, long and guttural. Its breath stank of rot and decay and blistered impossibly hotter than the inferno surrounding them. It was a monster of a Beast, a devil that had crawled out of Hell itself and brought damnation with it.

And Ludwig swung his blade wide, green glowing against red and orange to slice into the open maw of the Beast.

There was no telling how long the two exchanged blows. The Beast lunged forward and Ludwig rolled away. Ludwig rushed forward to try and cut legs and the beast would bring its heavy arm down before he could get within range. They sliced, stabbed, swung and danced around each other until Ludwig was panting and sweating with exertion. The heavy robes of the Church Hunters may have protected him against the worst of the beast’s attacks, but the warmth had become unbearable and he could feel his head swim. There was no sure way of telling how the beast was faring, but it was covered in shallow cuts with what appeared to be liquid fire seeping through them. It roared once again and lunged towards Ludwig, but its movements were slower, more fatigued. It was wearing down. Just a few more strikes, just a few more moments, just-

And with a great burst, a beam of moonlight shot forth from the sword to pierce straight through the torso of the monster and with a great shriek of pain its upper body flew through the air leaving the legs and hindquarters to collapse onto the floor. It clawed its way towards the doors, howling and shrieking in agony and defeat. Ludwig rushed forward, sword raised high and poised to strike the final blow when the beast turned its head and roared at him, sounding almost pitiful. The blaze around them had dimmed, as had the fire lighting the beasts eyes. Without their glow, Ludwig could see that they were the yellow of beasts; lucid, clear, and bright with an intelligence that did not suit its bestial nature. Bright yellow eyes that Ludwig was certain he’d seen somewhere before in a dimly lit room in the flickering light of a candle. Eyes that had once glowed a bright, intelligent green before the blazing light of the setting sun…

“Laurence?”

And the beast blinked, eyes narrowing before widening as they fell on Ludwig’s form, frozen against the dying flames. Its- his- The Beast’s eyes widened in recognition and it gave a piercing, agonized. More and more liquid fire sizzled on the slowly cooling stone floor as it began to claw at its own head, howling and shrieking in a maddened agony.

And in his mind, Ludwig could almost hear the frantic, panicked voice of the First Vicar.

“You’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

Teeth clenched and eyes hardened, Ludwig strode forward. His sword was no longer glowing with Moonlight, but still raised, still poised to strike. Laurence- no. He could not afford to think of this, this thing as Laurence. The Beast that had never been Laurence continued to growl and shriek as he approached. Limbs thrashed across the ground, swinging wide and missing Ludwig by mere inches. He continued on.

“Until the end?”

The Beast continued to growl, even as Ludwig drew closer, even as he came to stand right next to his- it’s head, even as the pointed end of the sword hovered above one open yellow eye.

“Of course.”

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

Seemingly hours later, the other hunter who had split from the Plaza will through the Cathedral doors, a dozen hunters in tow, each expecting to see Ludwig in the jaws of some enormous flaming beast. Instead, they will find him standing triumphant over its massive corpse, covered in blisters and burns and with a hollow look in his eyes and news of the death of Laurence the First Vicar on his tongue. They will never know what occurred during the battle, Ludwig will refuse to speak of it. No one will know how he spent the past few moments, cradling the head of the Beast in his lap, tears soaking into fur as the fire around them died, wondering how it had come to this. How had Laurence, the Vicar of the Healing Church, had fallen to Beasthood. And if Laurence had been the first to go, how much longer did Yharnam have. And no one will know until much later that as Ludwig had wept and mourned, he’d felt something foreign, something monstrous and sinister, slithering beneath his own skin…

@dragonbasket

@maskofconfusion

Ascendance. This was the true goal of the Healing Church. Hidden under layers of selflessness and generosity to Yharnam’s citizens, the pursuit of godhood spun the cogs of their civilization without ever being seen. The Church stood as a beacon of hope and prosperity to the people, with it they had no fear of illness, of injury, of death. The people put their unquestioning faith in the miracle blood and obliviously trusted the Church to uphold their promises of security until it was too late.

The moon hung in the sky above Yharnam like a blooming rose. It bathed the streets and rooftops in a blanket of crimson light and reflected off the stained windows of the Grand Cathedral like the glint in a wolf’s eyes.

The Church had abandoned its people. While the red moon rose higher in the night sky, the upper echelons had blocked off the Great Bridge, effectively spelling the fate of anyone still on the other side. Those of the Church had closed its doors and hidden themselves away, leaving the helpless citizens of Yharnam to the claws of the beasts it helped create.

Said beasts ran through the city like a swarm of locusts. With gnarled, matted fur and bloody claws and wild eyes they tore through people and homes like a knife through butter. It was a culling. The cobbled streets were wet with the blood of women and children and the men trained as hunters even though they never stood a chance.

There were still those who attempted to fight, those with the hope that it was only a matter of time until they were saved. They stood fast in Old Yharnam and acted as a last line of defense. But even then, the Old Hunters too fell to the merciless strength of the beasts. On that night Old Yharnam was set ablaze as a last resort, and any hope of pushing back against the beastly scourge was turned to ash along with it.

It was on that night that Laurence, the first Vicar made contact with the Moon Presence. In his lust for cosmic knowledge and desperation for salvation from the monsters he helped create, he too became a horrifying beast.

It was on that night that Ludwig the Holy Blade upheld his duty to the Church and took up his sword of moonlight, slaying Laurence where he stood. No longer a man, but a beast.

Ludwig dashed up the stairs to the Grand Cathedral. He’d already spent too much time that night fighting a losing battle. Countless numbers of his students and fellow hunters had lost their lives to the beasts roaming the streets. They’d had to give up even pretending they could protect the citizens from the vicious creatures, eventually retreating to preserve their own lives. After all, if the hunters all died here, would there be any hope left?

He passed by whimpering children and weary mothers on his way up the stairs -he was surprised they even made it this far- with his eyes forward and shoulders squared. He knew there was nothing he could do to help them short of inviting them into the cathedral, and even that was only open to the public during the day for blood ministrations and prayer. They wouldn’t be allowed to stay there regardless, those days were over.

So he moved on. He pushed the heavy doors open and closed them without looking back.

“Ludwig, I see you’ve made it right on time.”

Standing at the far side of the cathedral with his back to the entrance was Vicar Laurence, the founder of the Healing Church as they knew it. Laurence was a man Ludwig respected greatly, a man he found strength when standing beside him. It was more than he felt he deserved, for him to have found a light in the crushing darkness they all lived in. But he’d slowly been learning that selfishness was the only way to survive anymore.

Though even in this nightmare they lived in Laurence still had not given up. He was fully devoted to his cause, so devoted that Ludwig felt compelled to stand by his side as he saw it through.

“It’s almost nightfall, Laurence, I hope whatever you’ve got to say is important.” he sighed. “The state of things out there is getting worse and worse, it would not be wise to ignore. There’s nearly nobody left.”

Laurence spun around away from the altar and clasped his hands together in excitement.

“My dear Ludwig, I believe I have made the discovery of a lifetime. The solution to all of our beastly problems! The gateway to a greater self!”

Laurence was all but vibrating with anticipation as he waited for Ludwig to approach him at the altar. He excitedly rearranged various items on the surface and motioned for Ludwig to hurry closer.

Ludwig reached the scholar and peered around his shoulder at the mess of what could only be described as things on the wood of the altar. There were what looked like masses of flesh and mummified extremities and strange plants- He couldn’t even begin to guess what Laurence had in mind for these ‘materials’.

He carefully stepped away from the altar and drew Laurence back by his sleeve to meet his eyes. “Laurence, have you gone mad? Miracle blood is one thing, something I’m willing to believe in, but this?” his voice lowered, “You worry me, Vicar.”

Ludwig wanted to rationalize what he was witnessing. He wanted there to be a straightforward answer from Laurence to explain the horrific things he was collecting, but he feared that there wasn’t going to be one. How could there be? And that’s what he was worried about. He was worried that Laurence was getting into something he shouldn’t be, something he couldn’t handle.

Laurence laid a hand over the one still grasping his sleeve. “I need you to trust me, hunter.”

Ludwig could feel himself caving. Inside, he knew he was never going to stand in the way of Laurence’s progress. While Laurence and his ideas sometimes confused or worried him, he knew that he did indeed trust him. He trusted him completely, and that thought used to scare him, but now it was a fact he was resigned to. He would follow Laurence to the very end, be it a happy one or just another nightmare.

Ludwig nodded, letting go of Laurence’s robes and standing back.

Laurence reached out to squeeze his hand lightly one last time and smiled. “Thank you, Ludwig. This is something I could not do without you.”

Laurence then turned back to the altar and laid his hands upon it. He ducked his head and whispered words too low for Ludwig to hear.

Ludwig watched, stunned, as the air around his comrade shimmered and shook. His mind could barely comprehend the way the energy in the room turned solid and flowed. The mirage-like form floated through the air around the altar, reaching down from the high ceilings of the church to ensnare the man beneath it. All Ludwig could do was bear witness as the form seemed to coil around Laurence the way a snake would its prey.

Laurence was lifted into the air, his body silhouetted by a red halo of light cast through the stained windows behind him. In stark contrast to Ludwig’s creeping terror, the man before him looked delighted. He looked up and past something the other could not see and reached out his hand in offering.

Ludwig broke out of his stupor to call out to his comrade, fear and confusion lacing each syllable. He could barely comprehend enough of the scene to question it, almost begging for any kind of explanation.

“Don’t you see, Ludwig? There’s no need to be afraid!” Laurence looked away from empty air to address the frantic man below him. “Our time of fearing everything but the shadows beneath our feet is over, soon it will be our time.” He flung his arms out at his sides as the being coiled around him became corporeal. “Witness me, dear friend, for I have beckoned the Moon!”

Laurence’s raving grew more spirited, gesturing wildly seemingly in an attempt to quell Ludwig’s fears. He tried to assure him that they would live on, thrive, even ascend together.

Ludwig knew they couldn’t.

He reached over his shoulder and grasped the hilt of his blade. The last thought that went through his head as his sword lit up like a glowing sea was how much he wished they could.

@fateoftheundead

#soulsborne chain game #bloodborne chain 2 #laurence the first vicar #ludwig the holy blade #LauLu #Angst #this one turned angsty #I love all the art that got made!#I love that fic 2 is practically the same as the prompt ^^#aaah everyone did such a GREAT job with this chain

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