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folklorelise · 4 years

Text

How did you become Levi’s girlfriend.

Levi Ackerman - how did you, from the MPs, become Levi’s girlfriend

When you joined the training corps, you did not have any friends. Then you met Hange and you became friends rather quickly. It was fun, lots of hard work and then even more fun. After three years of training, you ended up first at the end. You thought about joining the Military Police, but Hange and you promised to join the Survey Corps together.

“Congrats on finishing first!” Hange cheered during dinner.

“Thank you!”

“Soo... are you still planning on joining the Survey Corps?”

“Of course, I promised remember.”

“Yeah, but it’s just back then, we didn’t know if we could join the MP.”

Once in the Survey Corps, it was a lot of trainings. You ended up in Squad Leader Erwin’s squad. And very soon, Hange made Squad Leader too.

After one expedition where you almost died, you asked for a transfer for the MPs. They agreed to it because you were ranked first at the end. The night of the departure, you went to see Hange.

“I’m sorry Hange.” you sobbed.

She hugged you and repeated it was ok and that she understood. You promised her that you would visit her as soon as possible.

“We could write each other letters every day and it would be like I never left.” you proposed with a small smile.

Life in the MPs was boring. People were mean, they criticised the survey corps every chance they had. It was upsetting, that is why you never made any friends there. With your experience in the SC, the commander of the MP made you in charge of the communications between them and the SC, as well as every other business between them.

Every trip you made, you made sure to bring lots of food for Hange, Erwin and everyone else because you knew the Survey Corps did not have treats. Apple pies, lemon pies, some meat, and fruits.

You took your basket and went in the cart. You usually stayed a week before going back to Wall Sina. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It all depended on the business between the MP and the SC.

“Y/N!” Hange screamed once she saw you.

“Hange!” you screamed back dramatically.

Once alone, she told you everything Erwin did the last few days.

“So now we have three new recruits. Levi, Isabel and Furlan. They are really good, especially since they did not have any trainings for it. Levi is the most talented of them all even better than some of us.” Hange explained while eating an apple. “You should meet them! I saw them at the library and there’s never anyone there.”

She took your arm and ran to the library. You were pretty slow since you were still carrying your basket full of food.

“Slow down Hange, please.”

She opened the door and there they were. The three new recruits. Your eyes were fixed on the straight black hair styled in an undercut curtain one. ‘Didn’t know guys from the underground were so pretty.’

“This is Y/N.” Hange introduced you to them and sat beside Levi.

You sat beside Isabel and put the basket in front of you.

“What are these?” Isabel asked taking a strawberry and a pomegranate.

“Isabel! You cannot just take things from people like this. Not here at least.” Furlan warned her.

“Oh no, it’s fine.” you smiled. “These are just fruits; you can have them if you want.” You took out some more and gave them to Furlan and Levi. Furlan thanked you and eat them as well as Isabel. Levi just looked at you but did not take the food. You smiled shyly and put the fruits in front of him. “Mh, you can eat them later but not too late, otherwise they will rot.” you explained.

“It’s what we ate in the underground anyway.” Levi sighed in a stoic voice.

“O-oh mmh...”

“He’s kidding.” Furlan laughed and glared at Levi saying, ‘be nice’.

No one talked after that. It was rather uncomfortable. You looked at Hange and tried to tell her with your eyes ‘Let’s leave! We are disturbing them!’. But she did nothing. Hange tried to make conversation, Isabel and Furlan talked easily with you, but Levi did not. He just glared at you and Hange. It was late in the evening, so you proposed to eat the meat you had.

“This is amazing!” Isabel praised.

“If you guys like this, I could bring more next time. What do you like?” you asked.

“I’ve never had sweets. And the meat is really good too. Oh also, the fruits were amazing.” Isabel shouted excited.

“Isabel.” Levi reprimanded.

“No, it’s fine, what would you like to have?” you asked but he said nothing and just looked away.

“Big bro here loves tea and Furlan likes everything, so anything is fine.”

“Tea, great. I can do that!”

The door opened and Erwin came in. You hugged him tightly and sat back next to Isabel.

“I see you already ate.” Erwin stated.

“I have some left in my bedroom for you. I know you’re busy and I knew Hange would eat everything.” you said.

“Hey not true!” Hange gasped.

“I just wanted to make sure the new recruits ate well for their first expedition tomorrow.”

“Oh, you guys are already leaving tomorrow?” you frowned. “Hange, we barely spent any time together.”

“It’ll be fine, and we’ll be back quick. You’re staying a week, right?”

“Commander Shadis just told me that Y/N is leaving tomorrow evening.” Erwin announced.

Levi, Isabel and Furlan went back to their bedroom and you stayed with Hange and Erwin in his office. He ate the food you had, and you guys talked about what happened these last few weeks. Erwin and Hange had some last-minute squad leader related work to do so you left. You left for the kitchen to brew some tea.

“What tea are you preparing?” someone asked beside you.

“Oh my! Don’t do this to me!” you screamed, startled. He stared at you, waiting for an answer. “It’s chamomile tea. I can never sleep around here... do you want some?”

He nodded. You took another cup of tea and pour some in his cup. You two sat in the mess hall, in front of each other in silence.

“Hm, so... do you like it here?” you hesitated. He stared at you and gave a nod. You quickly noticed how he holds his cup and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing!”

“You laughed, so what’s so funny?”

“It’s just... I never saw someone hold their cup like you do.” He, once again, just started at you. “I’m sorry if that seemed mean! It is not. It’s just - it’s a very unique way of holding a cup and so it’s more of a compliment you know. It means you are unique.” you blurted out nervously. He did not respond anything, he just started at you with a softer look. He brought his cup close to his lips and smirked slightly.

The next day, the survey corps left in the morning. You did not have the chance to say goodbye before leaving but ‘it’s fine, next time then’ you thought. Next time happened quicker than you expected. Only two weeks later you had to come back because your commander wanted the reports about the last expedition. You prepared your basket, remembering what Isabel said. You took every tea flavours you could find and put them in a pretty bag. Then, you took some sweets for Isabel and lots of apple for Furlan. You then took another basket and filled it with the usual food for your other friends.

Once in the SC headquarters, you went to see Hange first.

“Why the long face? Someone died?” you joked. She looked at you without laughing and you understood. “Who?” you whispered.

You run to Levi’s bedroom as quick as possible and knocked on his door. No one answered and you opened it slowly, but no one was inside. You put the basket on a bed. You stayed a minute, hoping for Levi to come back but nothing happened. You stood up but at the same time, the door opened on Levi. You started at each other for a minute before he moved inside of his bedroom.

“I’m sorry I broke in.”

He just sat on the bed next to the basket full of food. You turned around, ready to leave but Levi grabbed your wrist and forced you to sit beside him. You could feel his tense body and his harsh grip, but you did not say anything.

“You can bring the food back.” he breathed loudly, “They’re not here to eat it anymore.”

“I’m sorry this had to happen to you. They were really nice, this isn’t fair.” you sobbed.

He let go of your wrist slowly and sighed. He stood up and you hugged him. His body immediately tensed up, but he did not leave. Your arms were wrapped around his neck tightly and slowly, you felt his hands circling around your waist. You did not let go and waited for him to let go first. After ten or more minutes, he slowly backed away. You looked at him and smiled softly. You had to do something, so you took the bag full of tea and left for the kitchen. Levi just looked at you leave without saying anything.

You brew some black tea and went back to Levi. You gave him his tea and you drunk in silence. You took some food and handed it to him. He just looked away.

“You should eat. Please.”

He took the bread and the meat and ate it without protesting. You stayed with him the whole night. No one talked but you did not want to leave him alone. His back was against the wall, with his legs over the bed.

“You should sleep, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I didn’t. I can’t sleep.”

“Here.” you tap the place between your legs. “I can give you a massage and it could help.”

He refused at first but gave in and settled in front of you, between your legs. You started your massage and he relaxed straight away. After thirty minutes, he fell asleep and his head fell back on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around his chest and fell asleep with him in your arms.

The next morning, you woke up alone with the blanket over your body. Levi was already awake, eating the leftovers of the food you brought.

“Morning.” you greeted him.

“Thank you for yesterday. I really needed that.”

“Anytime.”

You spend the day with Hange, talking about what happened last night.

“You dog! You saw him twice and you’re already sleeping with him.”

“Hange!”

“I’m kidding. So, what’s going between you two?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you like him?”

“I don’t know, I barely know him. I mean, he doesn’t share much but he’s nice, and I feel great when he’s around.”

During the week, you spent a lot of time with Hange because she is your best friend and you also spent every night with Levi. He did not talk much but he enjoyed your company. He was scared that you might not come back because you would be bored, but you always came. You, on the other hand talked a lot, and he listened. He liked listening to you. You would tell him about your life before joining the training corps, about your training days and how you were part of the survey corps once.

“I’m glad you’re not here anymore.” he started.

“What?” you stuttered.

“Because with you safe in the inner wall, I do not have to be worried about you, about losing you outside the walls. Knowing that you are safe inside makes me... feel great.” he admitted avoiding looking at you. You were so surprised that you did not know what to say but to Levi, it looked like you just rejected him by your lack of answer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”

But you did not let him finish and kissed him. His hands holding you close to him and yours on his face.

“I think... no I know,” you took a deep breath, “I love you, and you’re amazing.”

“I love you too.” he whispered close to your ear.

From that moment, you two were inseparable. When you visited, you were always with Levi. If Hange wanted to spend time with you, she had to spend time with Levi too. Only Hange and Erwin knew about this.

When Levi made Squad Leader, you celebrated by buying him a new cravat with his initial on it. You helped him clean his new office and his new bedroom.

“Clean better Y/N.” – “Tch it’s still filthy.” – “You missed a spot.” – “Do it again.”

At the same time, Erwin made Commander and after dinner, he dropped by to give Levi some paperwork.

You sat on the couch reading a book while Levi started to work. After an hour of reading, you looked at Levi and noticed how he was still working on his first piece of paper.

“How’s work?” you asked.

“Fine.” Levi answered firmly.

You did not know if you had to insist or just let it go — you did not want to upset him.

“Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Levi...”

“It’s fine I said.”

You waited a minute and thought about it a second. Did the underground have schools?

“Are you having trouble writing?” you hesitated. “Or... reading?” Levi just looked away and put his head in his hands. “Levi it’s fine. You should have told me; I could have helped. I still can.”

After that, you started to teach him the alphabet first. But then you had to leave again. “You should tell Erwin; he wouldn’t judge you. I’m sure he would help, and he would give you less paperwork.” you told him before leaving.

The next time you came, you had many books about teaching and learning. And you gave these to Levi and worked on it with him. He improved a lot since last time, and he told you that he asked Erwin for help. The commander was really understanding and made sure to help him the best he can.

Everything was perfect.

Until the 104th cadets graduated. After the 57th expedition, Levi lost his whole squad. Hange made a trip to wall Sina just to bring you to Levi, knowing that he did not want to bother you. When you arrived, Levi was nowhere to be found. You waited in his office and when he came back, he froze when he saw you standing in the middle of the room. He closed the door and run to you. A hug is what he needed.

“Thank you for being here. I needed you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here with you, to help. And I’ve been thinking... maybe I should come back here so I could be with you.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“But I want to be with you. I always want to be with you, and I hate leaving you here alone. I want to come back.”

He nodded and kissed you tenderly and slowly brought you to his couch so he could fuck you nicely.

MASTERLIST

#attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #snk #levi ackerman #is this a one shot/imagine?#i wanted to put - in front of each paragraph #but it doesn't look like a hc so i decided not to #i hope it was ok #always scared to write people ooc but levi is extra hard *wink wink*

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plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

Playmate

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: First time writing Twice so,,, sorry

The day Jin got to measure you was probably the best day of his life. He can measure people fairly fast, get all their measurement in a quick moment, but with you- he wanted it to last long, wanted to make sure that he took advantage of the time he got to spend with. He took his time with you, letting his fingers trace down your arm up to each individual finger, letting his hands slip and curve around your waist, putting his hand on the small of your back to straighten you up, his hand leaving phantom traces as they slide up your leg and faded away when they reached mid-thigh. It was the only day he got to be so close to you, able to smell the pomegranate shampoo that you used, the matching body wash that lingered on your skin; he was able to take his time and let his hands roam throughout your body, the claim of it being needed for his quirk to be accurate was the excuse and while you hummed at the mention of it, you didn’t jerk away from his touch, only the traces of raising hairs and goose bumps gave away that his touch was doing something to you. And there was an added benefit- he got to listen to your voice, make conversation with him that wasn’t forced and dealt with the mission of the group, hear you laugh at his jokes and vice versa, and afterwards, you had even invited him to go and grab a quick dinner. You spent the day with him and wow- it felt really good and later that night, he fell asleep with a smile and a faint blush of his face.

He knows that the clones he makes have their own free-will, they have the memories and it’s like they are them- an exact copy. When he fights alongside your clone it hits different- he’s hyper vigilant that you don’t sustain any serious injuries but when you inevitability melt, he’s shock, he can feel all breath leave his lungs and he holds the goo substance in his hands, cradling it as if you had just died. When he sees you again, he’s holding you tight to his chest, arms threatening to crack your ribs until you soothe over his worries and tell him that he did a good job while affectionately rubbing his head, feeling the soft hair that resides under his mask. Your words and touches hold him together even as he spits insults and sweet words in the same breath, your touch on him never falters and never becomes anything more than rough.

Jin knows that you don’t feel the same for him that he does to you. How could you ever? You’re perfect in his eyes- caring, beautiful, and charming, a smile that makes him ache with want and it’s all too painful for him; painful for him to sit in the same room with unreturned feelings. So he does the next best thing. It’s shameful, but it pacifies him, quells the ache and want in him for just a moment. He creates a clone of you and you’re there smiling and cheerful and you listen to him when he tells you to keep your voice down, a confused smile on your face but you listen to him nonetheless. It’s innocent at first, cuddles and shared kisses, his hands interlocking with yours, nuzzling his face into your chest and pecks full of love given to him without resistance and sometimes he forgets that it’s not really you there, just a version that he made. But like all things in his life, reality begins to blur and he slips. After a meeting, he gives you a kiss on the cheek, and he goes rigid- you laugh it off, holding your face tenderly and telling him you didn’t mind while he stumbles over his words and he walks away, going to his room and locking the door, going into your arms to seek comfort. He’s in a vulnerable state, and naturally, you comfort him, and sweet, innocent kisses of love turn to something more passionate dripped in lust and clothes are peeled and he has to sink his teeth into you to prevent from screaming. He spends the next couple of hours in your grasp while you purr under him, letting your hands roam his body and lips against his, while he pumps himself inside of you, wondering if the real you is just as soft and giving in bed.

He swears that he never wanted to do anything shameful to your clone, never wanted to see what you held under your clothing, only made another one of you to just dull the pain but it twisted into something else, something primal and raw where he couldn’t get enough once he heard you gasp and mutter his name in a sinful tone that makes his hips shudder and cock leak in you.

It’s a secret that he guards with his life, making sure that you disappear right afterwards so all evidence is lost. If he has to leave the base for a few days to get rid of all the urges that he has, so be it. He’s always back. He always comes back to the real version of you who may not love him but still smiles when you see him, jumping out of your seat and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him down to sit with you while you talk about the things he missed.

It’s nice. It feels almost domestic.

He’s hidden away. Went to the confines of his own place, found himself a nice little hidden place and he’s made it a home- or rather a place where he can live out his fantasies with you- with your clone. He gets to indulge himself in you. Gets to act as if you are here with him and maybe it’s sleazy, but you would never do this with him. You would never like him like how he likes you. You’re you, perfect in every single way and he’s him- literally coming undone by the stitches and one too many voices that are too loud- only silencing and in agreement when you’re involved.

He’s on his bed, clothes off and sporting an erection that is buried in the clone’s mouth. Your- The clone’s mouth is as close to heaven that he can get to- something sweet and welcoming. He has a hand fisted into your hair- he’s never rough with you, can’t bring himself to hurt you and not even a clone- he just holds it there to guide you, to steady himself on you. It’s a lazy dragging of your mouth on him, tongue flat on his underside and his breathing is deep and ragged, too focused on you to hear the squeaky door of the room open.

“You know,” Jin feels his muscles tense and his eyes go wide, “I have to say seeing me with a dick in my mouth is pretty freaky, but it’s also kind of hot.” He hears a low giggle and the door closes shut. There’s soft clicking of your shoes as you move towards the bed and next to him the bed dips under your weight. “Come on Jin,” your hand weave through his hair, smoothing out stray strands and curving your hand to the back of his head, holding him up, “keep going. It’s hot.”

He shakes his head no, swallowing tightly, apple bobbing in his throat and he thinks he’s going to die. “I can’t,” he whispers, voice tight and choked up.

“Why not?” Your tone takes on something gentler, and your other hands places itself on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart. He makes a pained noise and shuts his eyes. “Why not Jin? Are you not enjoying it?”

“I am,” he hisses.

“Then? Do you not want me here? I can go—”

“No,” his voice croaks and he reaches for the hand on his chest, gripping it firmly and holding it closer to him. “No,” he says in a softer voice, “stay.”

“Do you want me to replace-” your eyes glance to the you who sits there patiently- “me?” You nuzzle into the side of his face and he can feel your smile stretched wide, teeth exposed and the hands on him, curling and fist his hair and scratch lightly at his skin. “Do you want both of us? Tell me what you want Jin,” you kiss his jaw, “and I’ll do it,” you give a kitten lick on his neck, “I promise,” you blow on his neck and he feels shivers run through his body. When you look up at him, your eyes hold no disgust, only clouded by lust with a coquettish smile.

“Fuck,” he curses, eyes darting to your lips and with a sudden burst of courage, he lets go of the hand that was knotted in your- in the clone’s hair and bringing it to your face, pulling you close to him, lips molding into each other’s while the clone version of you resumes its bobbing. He moans into your mouth and deepens the kiss when you part your lips.

A clear strand connecting and breaking apart when you pull away makes him lean closer to you, lips shining and parting. He lets out a whine and his brows furrow. You smile at him and tilt your head and he wants nothing more than return to your lips. Even as the clone version of you isn’t enough, an exact copy, perfect in every single way from the way your mouth feels and your voice, but even then it doesn’t compare to the real thing, doesn’t leave him wanting and whimpering like you do.

“What do you want me to do?” Your hands cup his face and he’s twitching into your touch, breathing ragged as the clone version of you continues to move their head on him.

“Can you ride my face?” His mouth pulls into a line. “Please.”

“Well,” you push lightly on his chest and he falls with a larger force than was given to him, plopping onto the bed with a light thump, and star-stricken face, “lay down.” You tilt your head and he turns his head to watch you strip, watching the clothes slip off your skin and it’s a much better view than watching your clone. Same body, but different tactics- your clone is always eager, but you there’s a bit of jump in your step, a bit of slower movements where your fingers hook onto your clothing and let it fall into a heap on the floor.

You sex is above his face and he tilts himself towards you, and the clone of you, gagging around him as the tip of his length hits farther down their throat, and he hisses in pleasure, mouth parted open and you lower your face onto him, muffling a moan with your hand when his tongue flashes out and swipes your slit.

He takes it all back- you on his mouth and his mouth on you is the literal heaven. He’s been on your clone before, mimicked and tasted you but it doesn’t come close to the real thing. You’re much sweeter, softer and warmer on him, and his lips latch on quickly to your clits, the hands on his side, resting on your bare waist and his pressing you down on him. He moans in you, the vibrations shocking your clit and you jerk your hips, he repeats the sound, softer but more intense as his teeth graze you, hearing your desperate whines above him. Barely even touched and you’re pulsating, leaking onto his face while your hands cover your breasts, nipples pinched in between fingers. Your hips move and forth above him, a hand hooking in front and a calloused thumb pressed against your twitching clit, rubbing harsh circles on it while his tongue plunges into your soft walls, tracing the entrance with the tip of his tongue, moving deeper and tasting the sweet nectar that resides in you and slips into his mouth in syrupy strands.

On his shaft, you’re eager, suckling him deeper in your mouth, tears shining in your eyes when he hits a bit too deep in your throat, your muscles constricting and threatening to tighten as you take him deeper- always so eager to please and swallow his load. He twitches in your mouth and the mental image of you on his face and his cock is bringing him close. His hips jerk, thrusting upwards and hearing the sweet cry of your choke, makes his muscles tighten. Your mouth lowers, taking all of him inside, bits of drool sliding past your lips and onto his package. A hand fumbles and grabs at him, massaging and rolling him around in your palms, while you nurse on his cock, lips sliding off and giving kitten licks to his slit, peppering kisses down his thickness and swallowing him again.

Hearing your cute little moans is music to Jin’s ears. He never once thought that you’d actually be into him and- he stops. He taps your thighs and you look down at him with a flushed face and he makes a motion to get off of his face. You scurry off, sitting on the empty side next to him, sex exposed and mixed with his spit and your arousal. Even the mouth around him stops and pulls away, watching the scene with careful eyes.

“You okay?” You breathe out, licking your lips and you nervously cross your arms over your chest.

“Is this a joke to you?” He asks, eyes narrowing and chests rising and falling in deep breaths.

“A joke? I- What do you mean?” You pull your knees up to your chest and your eyes dart to the meet your eyes who only shrugs in response.

“Why the fuck are you doing this?”

Your eyes soften and you let your hand rest on the bed, palm upturned. “Jin, I came here because you kept disappearing after you would talk to me. I found out why- I think- and I wanted to join in. That’s—”

“Why would you even want to?” His voice is tight and eyes start to twitch, tears burning in the corners of them.

“Jin,” you say his name softly and when you crawl towards him he flinches, you stop in your movements and hold your hands up in mock surrender. “You might find it hard to believe but I like you. You’re fun, you’re really nice and I don’t know, you’re cute too.” When he remains silent you continue. “Jin can I touch you? Would that be okay?” His eyes meet yours for a brief second and he gives you a curt nod. He recoils when you hold his face in your hands and melts at how soft you feel against him and his stubble. Your thumbs rub at his cheeks and the pads of your fingers press gently on him. “I like you Jin. I think you’re great. And if all you have is- er- sexual feelings toward me, that’s okay. I wanted to join in because I wanted to.”

“You like me,” he repeats under his breath.

“Yeah, I do.” You peck his lips and your tongue peeks out to swipe at the residue left. “Do you like me?”

He nods tightly. “A lot. You’re just- You’re really nice and pretty. Like smokin’,” he says, leaning further into your touch.

You laugh and it’s rich and makes him break into a smile. “Not to ruin the moment but,” your eyes flicker to your sex and he nods.

“Come sit down baby- we can talk feelings after I taste you.”

You grin wickedly and sit on him with eagerness, leaning over to grab his hair in your hands and you moan sweet words to him. “Fuck Jin, you feel so good. You’re so good, so- fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. “Like that Jin- again, please.” Your hands knot in his hair and the other you continues to move on his mouth, urging him to spill down their throat. Your hips jerk and you stutter on his hips, more of your arousal leaking onto him, your breasts swinging gently with every rocking motion, eager to find your high.

He mumbles into your sex and the vibrations make your back arch and hands fist tighter. Your walls tighten around his pink muscle and he growls at the act, wondering how it would feel to be buried in your sweet cunt, to feel how tightly you’d wrap around him and cry, your nails digging into his back and leaving bright, red lines in their wake. He’s fucked you clone, held them in positions that made everything feel so much deeper, felt the tight clench of you on him, filled you with his seed until his spilling blanks. All he wants to do right now is fill you up, make you feel full and watch his cum drip out of your leaking, aching cunt.

He eats you feverishly, mouth clicking and your sex leaking onto him, he’s greedy, finally has you- the actual you- on him, willing and moaning, writhing and twitching above, begging for him to continue, rocking your hips on him.

You reach your high first. You gasp and his name is chanted like a mantra on your tongue, whispered and moaned, broken and full of vigor while your orgasm washes over you, sending your body rigid and clenching around his tongue. He holds you down, mouth unrelenting while he makes your toes curl and tummy feel tight. The fistfuls of hair you have on him are let go and you tell him how handsome he is, legs shaking while your sensitivity makes you tingle as his suckles gently on your twitching clit.

You sit on him, chest heaving, and the other you, gags around him. You slip off of him and he clicks his tongue, hands falling from your hips and you come to cuck gently on his neck, hand running to his chest and rubbing a pert nipple between your fingers. It’s the final push he needed as his legs go still and tense, dick twitching in your mouth, and his ejaculate spilling down your throat. You work him through his orgasm, pressing kisses across his neck, leaving bits of skin red and bitten, soothed over with cool breath while his chest is pinched between your fingers.

When he comes down from his high and sees you watching him with a soft grin, he thinks he might cry.

“That was fun,” you smile cheekily.

He nods. “Yeah- no, it was really- best one if I’m being honest,” he says in a jumbled mess of words, mind silent and clear.

“We’re going to do that again right? I’m fine if you want to add the clone, but uh, I’d like a try at your cock next time.” You brush back his hair and twirl a short strand around your finger.

“Trust me, there’s going to be a next time, baby.” He grins at you and you press a kiss near his scar, it’s quick and leaves his skin prickling. It’s a nice feeling.

You pull away from him and he frowns slightly. “So, uh,” your voice is hesitant and he turns to look at you, “how do we get rid of clone me?” You point a finger at the clone who simply tilts their head and sends a nervous wave.

#jin bubaigawara x reader #twice x reader #bnha twice #jin bubaigawara #bnha twice imagines #bnha twice x reader #bnha imagines #jin bubaigawara imagines

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theonekid123 · 3 years

Text

Seashells And Dandelions

summary: Marco Bodt’s childhood friend joins the scouts in hopes of making a better life, Marco being the person he is refuses to let her do it alone and insists he comes with her. They go through highs, (making friends, growing a stronger friendship, and making memories with each other and their new friends) and lows. When Marco’s death hit Y/N it hit hard and they sought out the comfort of Armin, the two being previous friends to get closer and eventually form a romantic relationship. However living in a world of demons can take a toll on relationships platonic and romantic.

Chapter 4

“What if we get caught?”

“We’re not going to get caught. Besides, do you think anyone would really care”

I looked back and saw Armin give a nervous smile while looking around cautiously. I had convinced him to sneak out after everyone went to bed, we haven’t spent much time together ever since the whole Eren situation. I had expected a lot but I never would have thought Eren was a titan shifter, kinda ironic since he hates titans with a burning passion

“Where exactly are we going” Armin's voice brought me out of my thoughts

“It’s a surprise '' I said, turning to shoot him a wink before moving on. Twisting through trees and bushes, trying not to get lost. It was silent, comfortable. Every once in a while I looked back to see if Armin was still following me. Finally, after some, 30, minutes we arrived, I stopped abruptly cause Armin to run into my back

“Where is this?” He asked moving to stand beside me, taking my hand into his

“A pond,” I said as a large smile grew on my face

“We haven't really spent much time together, and things seem to be ok for now so I want to take advantage of that opportunity to be with you” I explained as I began to walk down the small hill we were perched on

“That sounds nice,” Armin said quietly as we got to the bottom

“So what now?” he asked looking at the pond

“Now I'll show you the constellations,” I said sitting on the ground. I had told him about the constellations before all this stuff had happened. He said he wanted to learn more so why not now. He sat down soon after and looked to me than the sky

“That one is Virgo” I pointed

“What’s the story behind that?” Armin asked looking intently at where I was pointing

“Demeter, the goddess of fertility and harvest, her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped by Hades and she had eaten pomegranate while kidnapped and now she has to spend 4 months of the year with Hades. Those four months are winter when the Demeter stops all growth to wait for her daughter” I explained to him. Tearing my eyes from the star formation assuming Armin would have a question. He was already staring at me. I couldn't tell if I had done something wrong so I got embarrassed so I looked at the flowers starting to bloom. Dandelions

“Did I...do something wrong?” I asked while picking at the grass. A warm hand clasped over mine. I looked up to see Armin looking at me with a gaze I didn't recognize.

“What?” I asked

“Have I ever told you I love you?” he said

“Yes, but I have ever told that I hate heavy doors,” I said confidently Armin looked confused and dejected

“Oh..ok….” Armin said as he went stand up, and just like that I ruined the mood, suddenly I felt a tug at the back of my shirt, then I was engulfed in water. As I surfaced I saw Armin laughing. The water was no deeper than 10 feet.

“So do you like gravity,” he asked with a smirk, I moved closer to the edge of the water and grabbed his ankle, pulling him in the freezing water.

"How dare you," Armin said once he recovered from the shock.

"Oops my bad, you know how gravity is," I said swimming, well more like paddling past him. I got to the edge and pulled myself up to sit where my legs were still in the water. Armin was now floating in front of me with a soft smile, he slowly made his way to sit next to me.

"I'm going to marry you one day," I said suddenly causing Armin to whip his head around to look at me, eyes big, face still dripping with water

"What?" He asked quietly

"Should I get back to talking about doors?" I said, trying to avoid any awkwardness.

"No! No please don't," he said with a light-hearted laugh

"I-we should get married. We can get married at the ocean. Once we defeat the titans, of course, Eren can be the-"

"Armin, calm down we're only 15, we can think about the details later," I said laughing at his eagerness.

"We should probably head back, get changed so we don't die of hypothermia," I said standing and giving one last look at the pond before turning away. As I started to walk I felt a hand slip into mine. The walk back was quiet, a comfortable quiet.

"No Armin are you crazy. This- this plan is stupid I-it's not going to work" I said desperately trying to persuade him away from the idea

"It's not up for debate. I have to do this" Armin said with a sorrowful look in his eyes. He knew he would die, you knew it, but there was nothing anyone could say that would stop him. I could feel myself start to lose control of my emotions. Tears had been pouring out of my eyes for a while now. I'm sure I looked pathetic.

"But the ocean don't you want to see the ocean. An-and what about us? I-i...you...you're not just going to leave me, are you" was I being selfish? Yeah. Did I care? No.

"You ca-You can't just leave. Please" I begged as my voice cracked, along with my heart. Arms circled my body, I clutched onto the fabric of his stupid uniform. Knowing this would be the last time I could do that.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled into my shoulder, slowly pulling away. Tears were now running down his face. In a split second his lips were on mine. A goodbye, classic. He pulled back and managed to give a small melancholy smile

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he asked

"Yes. But have I ever told you I hate heavy doors" I said trying to lighten the mood, as impossible as it seemed. He gave a nearly audible laugh

"See the ocean ok. You have to for me" the last thing he said before he zipped away to Eren

"Shut up Connie. That's NOT how it happened"

"Um pretty sure it is. I SAW it with my own EYES" he said making his hands into circles and placing them in front of his eyes

"Ooh what else happened?" Sasha asked Connie with excitement only she had

"Don't encourage him, Sasha! Nothing happened" I said trying to get the conversation to stop. Apparently, Connie had seen me and Armin when we came back from our little pond trip. And now he was going off on a whole made-up story, granted it was amusing, I would probably add on to this foolish story. If it wasn't for the fact it was about me.

"Uhuh, sure that's what they all say. Oh maybe we should ask Armin" Jean said, just then Armin rounded the corner with Mikasa, the universe must really like me today.

"Or maybe we could tell Mikasa about the kitchen incident" I looked at Jean with a smirk, his face deflated into a look of defeat

"Fine" he mumbled, crossing his arms and pouting.

"Hey Armin, Mikasa" Sasha yelled even though they were only 7 feet away

Armin smiled and waved before walking over Mikasa following. He sat down next to me and all three of those idiots gave the same devious looks. Armin looked at them and then looked at me with a confused look

"Don't ask me" I shrugged trying to play dumb

"So Armin" Sasha started

"You and Y/N….last night," Jean said wiggling his eyebrows. Armin's face turned a bright red

"Wha-what are you talking about," he said nervously

"Don't try to play dumb I saw you"Connie practically screamed. That was my cue to slam my face into the table

"SHUT UP! YOU ASSHOLES" I yelled face still smashed against the table. As everyone started to laugh I felt a tug on my hand. I moved my face to the side and saw Armin giving me a reassuring smile. Then motioned with eyes. We got up and walked away from the group of teens

"There they go again, to mystery land" Connie had said we turned the corner

"As long as Mystery Land consists of only you and me then I don't see a problem"

#AoT #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert #sasha braus #jean kirstein #conny springer #Eren Jäger #Mikasa Ackerman #snk #reiner braun #Bertolt Hoover #Annie Leonhardt #hange zöe #LEVI ACKERMAN #Erwin Smith

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

the unseen one - 14

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: are we finally moving the plot? yes we are. get ready for the emotional rollercoaster the next chapters.

Next Chapter >>

James was used to feeling dirty, to feeling guilty. As years went by, he expected that somehow and somewhere he’d learn not to feel guilty anymore, to grow numb to eventually hurting people but the feeling was still very much alive within him. However, nothing hurt more than leaving her while she was sleeping to return to the place he had sadly learned to call his home. He stared at her for a long while, recalling how she had barely made it awake once they got home and had fallen asleep the minute her skin touched the freshly washed cotton white sheets, hair sprawled around her head almost like an halo and hands meeting each other as she sleep on her side. He could see life in her, he could hear it and he could sense it, from the constant rosey blush that seemed to live on her cheeks whenever someone praised her to the sound of air exiting her lungs through her parted plump lips. She was alive, very much alive. He, on the other hand, didn’t exactly know if he was alive or not.

He didn’t want to leave her, specially after sleeping with her. He knew what she was gonna think, he knew that no matter how sorry he was, how much he tried to explain, he knew what she was gonna think when she woke up and he wasn’t laying next to her. He pursed his lips, hand holding the handle applying all his pressure on the small piece of worn out golden metal.

He looked down, turning the knob, exiting the room and closing the door behind him, slowly as not to wake her. The Underworld was waiting and he had to return before Apollo’s pussy chase ended. James left her flat, going down the stairs and onto the hallway. As he was about to return he felt an unnerving presence surround him, almost like a mist of evil had surrounded him. Slowly, James looked over his shoulder, seeing a known figure standing at the beginning of the staircase.

- James, isn’t it? - she climbed down the stairs, a suspecting look on her features. He had forgotten her name but he knew her from the block party, Y/N’s filterless friend. - You remember me, right? Y/N’s friend?

- I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name. - he gave her a sympathetic smile, hands entering his own pockets, eyes lowering to the floor to stare at his shoes. She sighed, a smile on her lips.

- It’s Anne, make sure you don’t forget it again.

- Well, Anne, I really should get going.

- It’s okay, you’ll be back soon. - he stopped on his tracks, giving up on trying to escape her as her words brought some sort of worry into him. - For Y/N, I mean.

He tried to forget about what she had just said, walking away from Y/N’s building and into a quiet area so he could return to the Underworld. Maybe he shouldn’t be worrying so much, after all Y/N was always saying how her friend would constantly say weird things to freak people out, maybe she was just being overprotective over Y/N, who knew.

Morning rose quickly for both of them however it brought different feelings. Y/N woke up in a cold bed, not knowing why she was expecting him to have stood with her until sunrise. He was a busy man, she knew he was busy and busy people do not have the time to simply stay and sleep with ... well, with whatever she was to him.

Y/N thought about returning to sleep but her plans were interrupted by Anne rushing into her bedroom, taking a seat on the end of her bed, an “I know what you did last night” look plastered all over her face. She hesitates to ask her to leave, maybe she needed someone to pour her insecurities on after being left alone.

- I see you wore your sexy dress. - she noticed the dress Y/N was wearing, lips twinging into an all knowing smirk. Y/N was a predictable person and you’d normally figure out if she was expecting something out of the date based on the way she dressed and the pretty white satin dress was surely a date sex expectation dress. - C’mon, I got us some fruit for breakfast.

- I’m not sure I’m that hungry. - she rested her hands against the duvet, looking at her fingers still somewhat burned from scrapping them against the concrete, memories of his skin against hers invading her memory.

- It’s a really nice fruit platter, sweetie. - Anne put her hands on top of her duvet, staring at her friend with a look Y/N couldn’t read. However, in all honesty, Anne seemed to change in between moods so often that Y/N could no longer identify them. She sighed, nodding her head yes, forcing a smile to linger on her lips.

She got dressed in her sleeping robe, deciding it would be best not to parade around in her dress that still had a lingering scent of James’ sandalwood cologne. The blooming of light coming from her living room made her even more upset than she already was. Normally, she loved leaving her bedroom barefoot and feel the cold of the wooden floors against her feet and the warmth of the sun rays hitting her arms, but today she couldn’t care less about it. Maybe it was because she wanted to share it with James after last night but she knew he had to work.

Anne sat by her kitchen’s island, a cardboard platter of various types of beautifully shiny and delicious looking fruit standing on top of the marbled stone.

- So ... - Anne moved her head to the side, her hair swinging to the side. - How is James? I saw him leave yesterday, am I wrong to assume you’ve spent the night with him?

- It was Valentine’s Day, take of that what you will.

- Why is he not here then? - she took one of the red grapes from the stem and throwing it into the air and into her mouth. - Sounds like a hit and run to me.

- He’s busy. - Y/N let an exasperated breathe, her eyes settling on a piece of red fruit. A pomegranate. - Hey, you got a pomegranate, I love pomegranates.

Y/N grabbed a knife from her knife stand, making a cut along the middle of the fruit before her hands went to grab the cut, opening it. Her fingers went to grab the little red seeds, popping one on her mouth. It always tasted like spring picnics and good memories with her parents.

- How did you get pomegranates? It’s not pomegranates season.

- I’m so sorry, Y/N. I hope you can forgive me.

- What do you mean? - her eyes were stuck with hers before they lowered to her own hands. The redness of the pomegranate juice had started to stain her hands and what once looked like a ripe piece of fruit looked dirty and were suddenly filled with ants. She felt her head lolling to the side before she slid from her high chair, head hitting the ground with a small thud. As her head hit the ground she couldn’t hear anything anymore, everything sounded like a murmur but she was sure her door opened and closed. Her head was laying on its side, eyes staring at the chairs of the leg which turned blurrier and blurrier until the colour black enveloped her senses.

tag list: @philogrobizedvee @keithseabrook27 @inlovewith319

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therealcalicali · 4 years

Text

Of Bards and Bastards

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warnings: None

Type: Drabble

Wordcount: 1,638

This is for @rosepetals-flyingbirds Writing Challenge.

Prompts: Dogs are better than People/You’re a bastard

Geralt had no desire to reside at your family’s quant Inn with adjacent Tavern. However, he was a man that disliked having his ear talked off. So after many days of being pestered by Jaskier, he gave in. And it was a good thing too. Because not only had the two men been sleeping rough for weeks, but the weather had turned.

So needless to say, they were lucky to happen upon your township.

“Welcome to The Laughing Archer.” Your Aunt quipped with a pleasant smile. “I’m Ausalái and the wee thing behind the counter is my niece, Y/N. How can we be of help this evening?”

As she spoke, her ample cleavage caught Jaskier’s attention. Though to be fair, he did his best to not make it obvious. Because despite her being rather slender, your Aunt was buxom. Not that your Uncle ever complained.

“It is nice to meet you both. I’m Jaskier and this--------”

The larger man elbowed him in the ribs.

After warning the Bard numerous times to desist being sociable, it was obvious that he had learned nothing. Thus, Geralt decided it was best to take over.

“We require two rooms.” He said, his voice more of a low rumble than anything.

“Two?” Jaskier repeated, his eyes twinkling with surprise. “Geralt, either you have been lying for weeks, or we are flushed in coin. I figured it was all spent since we’ve been sleeping upon grass like farm animals.”

Ignoring the jest, the large man opened handed five pieces of silver to your Aunt. Enough for food and drink for four days.

“Are you a Knight, Ser?” You asked as you stepped forward. “I myself have never taken up sword as of yet. However, everyone says I’m a marvel with the bow and arrow. My Uncle trains me every----------.”

“The rooms.” Geralt gruffly interrupted, utterly ignoring every word that had come from your lips.

And you thought him rude for it, he was a patron. Thus, you simply nodded and bid them to follow.

After showing the men their lodgings, you went in search of fresh linens. But as you were descending the stairs, Jaskier asked if he could trouble you for honeyed milk. To which Geralt promptly rolled his eyes. But you had always been hospitable.

So despite it being rather late, you promised to bring a surprise to go with his desired beverage.

“I will have you know that aside from my Archery skills, I’m also known to be handy in the kitchens. But you shall see for yourself.” You added.

“Thank you kindly, Y/N. I can hardly wait.” Jaskier replied, clasping his hand in anticipation.

As soon as you were out of earshot, he went to Geralt’s door, which was located directly across from his own. He then knocked for some time before his burly companion finally appeared.

“What?”

“Is that a nice way to greet someone?”

Geralt promptly shut the door in Jaskier’s face. But he didn’t do so out of hatred. In fact, he had grown capable of tolerating the Bard’s peculiar temperament. However, after his recent skirmish with a Wayth Raider, he was in no mood for childish banter.

Still, Jaskier never could take a hint. So instead of returning to his own chamber, he entered uninvited.

“Why must you be.................you?” Jaskier asked. “First, you’re absolutely rude to that poor girl. And now, you direct your anger towards me.”

“Get out so I can rest.”

“See?”

Without replying, Geralt took a seat upon the bed. He then set his weapon aside and began unlacing his boots. Undeterred by the silence, Jaskier regaled him with his thoughts about the Inn. Declaring your Aunt a fetching woman, and you, a rare beauty.

“She just has that certain something one cannot explain.” The Bard added, his hands making random gestures. “Though pretty, she’s quite unaware of it. Which, in my eyes, makes her even more attractive.”

“Hmm.” Geralt scoffed as he threw a boot aside. He then started on the other, shaking his head in annoyance. “You pestered me for a proper resting place only to ogle women.”

“Do you ever stop grunting long enough to enjoy life?”

After clarifying that he never ogled, Jaskier declared that he only admired the fairer sex. And personally, he saw nothing wrong with it. But as expected, Geralt ignored his words.

“You behave as if you do not want companionship.” The Bard noted. “Even those of sour disposition want another person at their side.”

“Dogs are better than people.”

With a sigh, Jaskier agreed that humans could be treacherous. However, that did not mean one should resign themselves to a life of solitude. He then returned to discussing you once more. Declaring that you had the most cheerful disposition he had encountered in some time.

In fact, he planned to ask for Archery lessons in order to become better acquainted. Though Geralt chuckled inwardly at the notion, he remained silent.

“Lord Jaskier” You sang from the doorway. In your hand you held a platter of sweet cakes, sour loaf, and the requested honeyed milk. “As promised, I have come bearing morsels to fill your belly.”

“Y/N, you are an absolute sweetheart. Is all that for me?”

Your cheeks burned hot as you reminded him that they had paid for room and board. Thus, you were obligated to feed him well. Your eyes then went to the one called Geralt. And despite him being curt since their arrival, you asked if he too would like something from the kitchens.

“No.”

“Ignore my friend. He’s rather tired, so let us leave him to his sleep.” Jaskier said as he followed you out the door. “Besides, I wish to hear about life in this quant township. It seems rather lively from what I have seen thus far.”

The following morning, you woke early to assist with chores.

And as always, your Aunt and Uncle chastised you, insisting that you return to bed. Because despite not being your true parents, they had not taken you in to make you a servant. Nevertheless, you enjoyed helping the family business flourish. So, you kept to assisting the workers.

After helping the women clean the adjacent Tavern, you went to the kitchens. Indeed, you were thrilled about impressing the new lodgers. Thus, you set to work, gathering all manner of fresh ingredients. Even going so far as to enter the chicken coop that you typically avoided. Because despite eggs being a staple in most dishes, the chickens fought like hell to keep them.

“Y/N, you have the women cooking up a feast this morning.” Your Uncle exclaimed before stealing a piece of fried trout. “Just try not to overdo things.”

“I have told you before, I’m quite capable of running the kitchens.” You replied with a great smile. “Just make sure you return with adequate game for Suppertime.”

As he departed with his companions for a hunt, you checked to make sure the workers had things under control. When satisfied, you took the first dishes to the Inn’s dining area.

Since they had been residing longer, you first served the large party of Merchants before going to Jaskier and Geralt.

“I hope you slept well, Y/N. ” The Bard exclaimed, eager to delve into the first meal of the day. He then surveyed all you were setting before them. “Everything smells delightful. Ooh, what is the red delicacy there?”

“Pomegranate rolls filled with custard with strawberry molasses. It is a creation of my own doing.”

As you further explained the other dishes, Jaskier bit into a roll. Instantly, his eyes fluttered as if someone had rubbed his back. He then excitedly looked at Geralt.

“I know you dislike sweets. But you simply must try one of these” The Bard urged before taking another bite. “The girl’s hands are pure magic.”

“I’ll pass.” Geralt replied with brow raised.

He then lifted his mug of spiced ale and looked about the Inn. Naturally, you were somewhat hurt by his refusal. But you held your tongue and returned to the kitchens. After retrieving the second course, you served everyone with the same enthusiasm as before.

“Y/N, I hope this is not forward of me…” Jaskier began with some anxiety.

As he wavered, Geralt eyed him. From traveling together, he knew very well that the Bard was no competitor. So why he wished to trouble you, made little sense. Nevertheless, he decided to say nothing.

“Would you be keen to show me the basics of Archery? I mean, if you are not too busy with other things. Or people.”

“Of course, Lord Jaskier. It would be an honor to teach you.”

“Lord?” Geralt repeated.

Indeed, he realized that you truly believed his companion was of noble birth. So despite his usually stoic demeanor, he could not keep from chuckling.

“And what is so funny, Ser?” You asked.

“You.” Geralt replied as his intense gaze meeting yours. “Why assume him a Lord?”

“Because, he carries himself with dignity and kindness.” You replied with some irritation. “Besides, who’s to say that a Lord could not decide to become a Bard?”

“Quite the stupid assumption.”

“As you please, Ser. But I shall perceive your friend as I see fit. Would you like to know how I have come to perceive you?”

“Not particularly.”

There was a long silence, your ire festering as if time had stood still for ages. But eventually, you glared at the handsome boarder, refusing to let him have the last word.

“You’re a bastard!”

You then hastened to the kitchens; leaving Geralt perplexed and Jaskier laughing so hard, the other boarders began to stare.

#the witcher x reader #reader x the wticher #the witcher fanfics #the witcher fics #geralt of rivia x reader #reader x geralt #reader x geralt of rivia

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thecrenellations · 3 years

Text

Return of the Thief Notes, Part One: The Book of Pheris, Volume I

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part Two | Part Three | TaT)

Contents: "So, so, so” watch, Costis watch, swearing, trashing the king’s attendants, being objectively wrong, boundless enthusiasm and love

I promise I’ve had more developed thoughts since these often incoherent ones, but I’ve enjoyed having these notes to refer to - for sentimental reasons and for entertainment, so here they are, for others who enjoy liveblogs and/or being whisked back in time to their first read of this wonderful book.

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Dedication, Table of Contents, Exordium:

There it is – to Sounis

Exordium – vocab #1

Interregnum?!? Alyta?

Pheris!!!

Yeah I love him from the first page

MOIRA

MOCKING COMMENTS HELP! Gen lives!

A new level of unreliable narrator

Moira, messages of Gods, Pheris, messages of __

Wtf is going on in this study? A zoo?

high king vs great king vs annux?

okie dokie dude

Chapter 1

1. Susa – Costis

2. Infirmity – who gets to be hero/tell story (I started reading right after the book launch, in which mwt spent some time talking about her writing influences and decisions connect to this question - Pheris isn’t her first disabled protagonist and storyteller, of course, but it was lovely to meet him properly directly after hearing her talk about it. Book launch foreshadowing part 1...)

Melisande?

Is this why he wasn’t taught to read?

3. Always the summer

Bees!

4. Hunting cat… hm…

Ok … shrine … 😬

5. Once again we start with a disaster or having to flee

Which Eugenides precipitated

Bite!

Little monster :(

6. Falling…

7. :( :( :(

His purpose? D:

8. YIKES

Chapter 2

9. Hello there! (Gen!)

Massive chair?

10. CRACKED WATER JUG (amphora motif???)

11. Triangle from seal!

Gen that’s rude to Pheris :( (“He will fit in very well with my attendants”)

Wait. This must have happened before ACoK! (nope)

12. :(

Xikander … never made an impression before

How old is Pheris? (lol)

13. Philologos come thru!

Royal closet reappears!

14. Hello weird secondhand scene!

He is Eugenides

Marina…

15. Petrus? GALEN? OH SHIT!

Is this why Galen was called? (nope)

16. Hell yea Petrus

Miras’ golden balls oh no

All these previously unnamed sucky attendants!

17. Ula – goddess of hearth and healing

Ok … Galen … or a god? Eugenides????? (why did these options occur to me before Mr. Shows Up At Your Bedside At Night himself)

18. Finally the attendant floor plans I crave + hunting scenes!

19. EXCUSE ME he slept through Sounis + Eddis wedding!!!

Again – high king!

20. So Ion is beautiful … hmm.

Yeah … Sejanus has facets. I like it.

21. Clearly no one would know what king would do … lol

Don’t mind me just sorting the attendants on a spectrum of awfulness!!!

22. SO SO SO – ION!!!!!

How many fucking attendants are there and how many are on my hit list!

Is “the necessaries” bathrooms or like … him stealing? (just the bathrooms ... the Gen-Pheris parallels were really getting to me at this point)

23. OH MY GOD THE UNIFIED CREST

Also … frogs. Frogs.

24. Big day for Gen huh

Definitely an aura of Something as he writes about Gen

25. HELLO EVERYONE

26. Sorry Kamet, Pheris does the physical descriptions better. They’re beautiful

I’m blacking out at Eddis and Sounis

27. Jesus Christ. The bear.

Cousin time!

Under the table is the new up on the roof!

Uh… twin imagery ….

Gen’s feet!

Jesus. The matching

28. Cleon … wtf? A cousin?

A trial for Sophos?

Show! Us! Sophos’s! Shoes!

29. If u throw things out the air shaft you might hit the king

Was it a chicken?

Lol nvm the guy at night is Gen. That is … very sweet

- Showing up at night

- Accent

- Complaining about Petrus

- Swearing

- One hand

I am judging Costis and Sophos for not describing the paneling in Gen’s room!

Chapter 3

30. Was it a chicken?

An earring huh, good hand huh

31. Literally screaming “NO!” at Gen. Don’t joke about dying! I am killed by Gen on annux day. This is. My boy. Yes he is perfect. Yes he will refuse to get up. I love him. I died on page 31

Philologos is still the best of them

32. Dancing bear indeed

Always the powdered gold

Ruby!!!!! <3

Aww a smile!!! <3

Pheris he likes you!

33. They both love invisibility and lost it … I cry

Erupt like the sacred mountain excuse me!

OR WORSE return to bed! Lol

34. He’s Eugenides when he’s talking to Attolia

Ouch hero talk

! from Irene!

My queen!

Hey Phresine!

They way we do <3 he’s hating it but he’s so comfortable with her

Sister and bro mention! C’mon!

I love them

EYEBROW

35. Honestly that’s a yes (“I have no idea what you mean, my queen”)

It’s so cute they hang out in the morning … like how long was it even since they’ve seen each other lol

:( tough walk for Pheris

Is it prophecy time?

Lol how long does this construction take?!

Also … she’s pregnant, huh? but no one knows (nope)

Is befriending someone weaponized as a prank count for Gen’s enemies to friends list?

Also SHOW ME the magus. I know he’s here!

36. Pheris excuse me, why not recreate this!

Lol cast off language of history indeed

Feel the thrum of the goddess!

EXCUSE ME… a minor goddess? Mystery goddess? Or Philia?

Oh Gen

37. Well, Gen, someone is having a worse day than you.

Damn, how far we come.

Aww Sounis, babe, I love you and so does Gen

[drawing of the four of them sitting in a row]

38. Artadorus???? Pomegranate?

39. HEIRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A friend! Also lol. Two smiles, for Pheris and Heiro..

40. Yesss Melheret joke in action.

Costis has left tho right?

Jesus, Melheret

SHE GAVE HIM A HORSE (I COULD NOT DEAL with this entire conversation, but then again I could not deal with this whole book.)

41. I love them all so much

“on that horse, you will look like a king” I can’t with her sense of humor

He sure did say that

I feel like I’m missing something with the fight on foot thing … remembering battles?

Helen called him Gen!

Sophos stop talking about yourself and bringing apricots into everything lol

Lol these bystanders don’t know how lucky they are. Nor does Pheris, yet

42. She’s protecting him

Also … Gen … you didn’t want to be a soldier.

43. Guards have capes

2 startled men … hm …

Oh Gen. The fucking brutal echoes…

44. :( :( :(

Gen tell your wife you’re sick!

The attendants are so dumb

45. So, so, so :(

Tell who? Petrus?

Wink!

Yes?

46. Bleeding! Salt! Lemon! Heck no! What is he, a piece of meat?

Oranges?

47. “savoring each bite as if it were my last” ... Same … but with this book

Hmm… Alyta! Goddess of the gentle rain! (despite this “hmm,” I did not put the pieces together)

48. Oh no Teleus! And someone?

Aw he realized <3 lemon water

49. Gen eat your broth lol

50. I love them.

Ion’s really trying to make up for what he did that one time

51. Without the approval of the great goddess HAHAHA

I love them. Cousin time! Growl?

Idk whether or not to be reassured, Gen.

Wow Cleon I do not like that. Also didn’t he die? (...)

Comma (“I am not, Eddis”)

Go smack him!

52. Gen I love you.

Helen I love you.

He’s so bad at self care but I love him

Chapter 4

55. love that our narrator just disappears and reappears

56. Attolia’s brother’s bedroom? Yikes. Ominous. A detail in a story we’ve already gotten, different every time <3

57. fucking attendants. 3 good ones. Medander you were beneath Costis’s notice before but I hate you. Costis didn’t have time for you or Xikos or Xikander and nor do I

58. interesting pawn talk!!!

59. <3 Pheris :(

The Gen comparisons though

:( :( :( :(

60. flamboyance <3

Cemphora bush

Bees

61. I love him

62. I love them

Also lol “Your majesty?”

63. Name … hm … (“I have deliberately omitted [my tutor’s] name here”)

64. more twin imagery I swear

WAIT … it was his birthday! Not just Annux day?!! Gen was born in late summer???

Attendant list thank you

65. laying it all out there, huh … (that one Gen quote)

Lol they’re the same but Pheris likes horses

66. Insellia! Hello nice to meet you

67. Gen that’s mean. (“He is hardly even half of one.”)

68. Coleus leves???

“I am Eugenides.” <3

Gen why

69. Gold cups???? Hmmmmm. Also lioness. Def invoking Costis. (they’re probably not the cups, but STILL)

Earth….

70. Moira! Hi!!! Rainbow shawl!

Like a rabbit!

Pester!

I’m … very sad he uses his Attolian accent with Helen

71. Aaah so good

Mortals

Moira knows another messenger?

Does he think he can’t die in battle?

72. hmm are they WRANGLING?! (Galen and Petrus and my Fire and Hemlock word association)

Kill that pastry Irene I love you

morning training with his … guard? (Is that the whole guard or a guard? Costis senses tingling once again.)

73. Oh gen.

Ouch! (“to send people to their deaths and not risk my own is contemptible”)

Is she implying he’s paying Therespides?

74. Interesting Cleon plan. So many doubles

OUCH. (“Only if he comes back from the dead.” I assumed Lader had died in the war; it’s a different ouch now. I love that they both accidentally say things to each other that poke old wounds, and it’s not a big deal but it’s also not dismissed! Their relationship has come so far, and I love them so much.)

75. Verimius – Lavia – Celia??? Somebody is queer in there!

A GUARD

This scene confuses me. Xortix? Layteres? Aris! but dice thing is less political … so maybe? (just wait....)

76. So many reasons to hate Medander

Hey Costis! You exist! KoA happened!

Gen is just … still so uncomfortable and miserable. He chose, he has people, but still.

RIP Clopius also WHAT

77. Lol Hilarion’s grand statements

78. Yorn Fordad Hello!

Luxurious mustache

The mighty Pents?

Besin Quedue – she’s coming 4 you watch out

79. RIP Baron Hippias

Chapter 5

80. Spring! Plays! Cenna!

81. Oh dear

Oh dear

At least they said he was pretty

83. ?!? :( wine

Uh oh. Stockpiling

85. What even.

AAAAAAAAAH COSTIS

86. Omg Irene. Hissing. I love her.

Also … Gen’s the viper

Also this scene was written by Pheris.

Damn.

87. oh no.

What better man

She fucking quoted Howl. I love them.

Also, bees (this scene killed me)

90. Falling?

Oh shit

Also … Juridius and Pheris, Susa and Costis (comparing demands for information)

93. oh my god (IT’S THE WINDOW SCENE)

Oh my god

94. She! Called! Him! Gen!

I love this and it scares me

Lol Chloe

Irene you learned from her though

95. D:

96. :(

97. water stuff

98. what the heck

OH NO (Quedue scene)

100. yikes

Omg

Wow.

102. yikes yikes YIKES

103. a blade has protruded from his chest (tbt to The Thief)

jesus

106. shit

Did Gen hit him?

108. lol Phresine

109. lol

I want genuinely every character’s reaction to this shit

Chapter 6

111. what the heck Gen.

112. like a god [crown doodle]

114. Perma?

116. Gen. Gen. Gen. Do not.

117. AAAA (god intervention)

122. Juridius to Dite

124. bye Iolanthe and Ileia! Tell us about Caeta and Silla.

125. did not expect so much Ion

Chapter 7

127. Fryst god of winter

She laughed!

They’re so married

128. OH SHIT (Costis ship is sighted and I remember what’s about to happen next)

Interesting timing

He rode the horse home?

131. Beauty and good, beauty and kind

134. The gods’ goodwill

Keep them safe <3

135. Is that his MOM?!! Wtf (it was!)

Pheris steal those earrings!!!

RING! SMASH BOX!

137. AMPHORA EARRINGS (and flowers)

138. I love Phresine

139. Why do I feel like all the game birds are pigeons

140. meanwhile Gen’s been hanging out with Kamet. Shit. I cannot.

WELCOME HOME BOYS!

HELL YEAH KAMET ATTEND THOSE MEETINGS!

RELIUS COME THRU

141. lethium soup! The reversal

Safe for you

142. of course he knew <3

143. Kamet time! I love him. We get to see Kamet!!!

Also … echo of Gen’s notes on Mede

145. very handsome. … gaycostis vindication (referring to @costis’s url at the time and this post. Little did I know what else was to come in the next chapter and then a few months later with the adaptation news...)

Do you know who I am?

Chapter 8

147. Of course he’s a cartographer

A favorite huh

148. of course she didn’t tell us his age!

149. the angsty window staring I crave

Music!

151. adventure, huh

I do have a soft spot for Melheret

152. concerned about amphora gift

153. Glad they can be well and united in spite!! (Gen and Melheret)

154. Pheris loves math and I love him

155. Hello Teleus. Hello olives

Lol Relius is not into math

156. pigeons. Inkpot!

157. yeah honestly. He tortures people. He was NOT tortured by the king

159. lol (“I have noted the elective nature of certain behaviors” ... I love Relius and Pheris.)

160. The Invitation! I <3 it

161. EXCUSE ME WHO

Legarus!

FOLKS HERE WE ARE (I cannot overstate how wonderful it was to read this page. I did not know who the poem was from, and “Someone loves me very much, even with all my faults” is even sweeter to reread, but it’s just ... his confidence is so different from the tentative consideration of a new philosophy of trust and love we see in KoA. And there is subtextual queerness in the books before this one, some more apparent and some more subtle (and what is obvious to one reader may be subtle or invisible to another, in these books especially), and there is the attendant love triangle a few chapters back, but HERE - here, Pheris acknowledges the real feeling and love in Legarus’s disastrous relationship and tells us directly that his lover was a man, here he seamlessly makes it clear how bi and poly Relius is, and he quietly ties these relationships and realities to his growing understanding of the world. It’s not subtext. And there’s a lot more to come, but this page really hit me, and sort of promised the “more to come” while assuring me that what had come before, more subtly, was there. I used to have heteronormative readings of both these books and myself, and when Thick as Thieves brought them crashing back into my heart after years away, I knew better about myself, and I saw that - or the possibility of that reading - reflected in the new book, and it was such a good surprise. It meant a lot, and this page meant a lot, and that is why I’m writing a small essay to accompany this note.)

Lol wow

162. Where are you traveling, man (this question remains)

163. Fuck you, Orutus

164. Stole an inkpot!

165. the map!!! (Kamet’s)

166. I love them!

167. The Math Master hmm

Am I an oracle (Nope! :) )

#there is SOME context #and some rambling #but i'm sure some of it doesn't make sense so i'm very up for explaining anything #return of the thief #the queen's thief #mwt #something i #rott spoilers #return of the thief spoilers

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coffeestainsandcashmere · 4 years

Note

hi hi hi, please can i prompt something a lil bit angsty (because i do adore my angst). the first serious fight that theo x draco x hermione have, and maybe how they make up after? thank you.

I loved loved LOVED this prompt, and I’m sorry it took me so long to get round to it. If it’s any consolation, it’s nearly 4k words long...?

Featuring: Draco being the grandiose nobleman he was brought up to be, Theo unthinkingly going along with it, one EXTREMELY tired Hermione who is absolutely not up for surprises or grand, showy, romantic gestures, Hagrid, Fang, Firenze the centaur, and a dollop of fluff to wash the fleeting angst and misunderstandings down.

Hope you enjoy it!

___

After the longest week, with barely a moment to catch her breath, burning the candle at both ends, all Hermione wanted to do on Saturday was sleep, read up on a few more things for an upcoming Ancient Studies test, perhaps lounge in the boys’ room down in the Dungeons, and perhaps convince one of them to give her a massage. Simple, humble plans, every last one of them.

But the universe, apparently, had other ideas, given that it had seen fit to make the busiest week of term so far culminate not in an ordinary weekend, but in Valentine’s Day.

Wizarding and Muggle alike the world was awash with pink hearts and red roses, and Hermione wanted nothing to do with it. She never had, and she knew that both boys were unfortunately prone to grand displays of affection, and that made her anxious and snappy. She’d spent most of the previous week - in the cumulative half hour that she’d actually spent in their company - trying to hint and suggest heavily that she had no interest in grand surprises and romantic endeavours. The most romantic thing someone could do for her was respect her wishes, after all.

Quite deliberately, she’d not made any concrete plans to see the boys that Saturday, helped by the fact that Draco had an extensive Quidditch training session scheduled and Theo had some work to catch up, but after she’d woken at her usual time anyway, and had lain there for an hour, praying for sleep that wasn’t going to return, she got up. Her mother had always said that if you can’t rest, do something productive.

The Great Hall teemed with excitable younger years, one or two unfortunate howlers, and a plethora of Exploding Envelopes filled with glittering confetti hearts from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and she turned around and left before even bothering to step inside. It wasn’t that she hated the sentiments behind Valentine’s at all, but honestly, it just felt rather cheap and the thought of it all simply… exhausted her further.

Without pausing or returning to the Tower, she made the split-second decision just to bolt out into the grounds and found herself eventually at Hagrid’s hut. He was outside chopping wood and Fang was busy sneakily lapping tea out of the bucket-sized mug that Hagrid had set on a spare stump. The enormous hound looked up suddenly as she caught him in the act, but then gave a low, baying woof of welcome.

“‘Allo, ‘Ermione,” Hagrid said with a grunt and a little puzzled frown as he straightened from his work. “Good te see yeh. What brings yeh down ‘ere at this time o’ day?”

She shrugged. “Got any jobs I can help with?” she asked instead and he raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“Don’t see yeh swinging this around…” the half-giant laughed, hefting the axe that looked like it weighed five times what she did.

“Preferably not,” she said. “Though I’m not opposed to using magic to get it done.”

“I think I’ve got a few jobs we can do together,” he said. “Fang? Let’s go see Uncle Firenze, eh?”

They spent the day in the Forbidden Forest with the centaurs, a rare opportunity that Hermione relished, gathering wild mushrooms that only grew in the very depths of the forest and bringing them back carefully in a covered basket for the potions storeroom, among other rare ingredients. She also spent a long time walking with Firenze, the pale centaur quizzing her about the state of the wider wizarding world now, and she in turn asking him questions about the more rigorous sides of the art of divination. The three of them, four if you counted Fang snuffling about in the undergrowth, ate a packed lunch of cheese sandwiches which Hagrid drew out of his top pocket, only slightly misshapen and squashed, and afterwards Firenze showed them some rare, early-spring berries that tasted like pomegranate but had the texture of blueberries.

At last, her physical exhaustion matched her mental tiredness, and by the time they returned to Hagrid’s hut an hour from sunset, grubby and a little sweaty, she felt fit to fall over.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she said, pushing a strand of her ‘witch of the wilds’ hair out of her face, only for it to spring back again. It was so big at that point that a hippogriff chick could probably have nested atop it in perfect comfort. “I needed the distraction.”

He bowed in quiet understanding. “Any time, ‘Ermione. Yeh know that.”

She blessed him silently for not asking any more, and with a nod and a final pat on Fang’s head, she turned her steps towards the castle with no more thoughts in her head than for a long soak in a bath and an early night.

Again, the universe apparently had other ideas.

Pacing the entrance hall like his caged namesake, she found Draco looking breathtakingly smart in a set of charcoal grey dress robes and shiny black Oxfords. When he looked up and spotted her, his face did something complicated, the final expression settling on relief, and he came over to her in two quick strides.

“Where the hell have you been?” he barked, scowling. “Look at the state of you!”

“Out and about in the forest,” she said tersely, hackles rising at his tone. “I didn’t know I needed to report my whereabouts to you, Draco…”

“You —” he began but he broke off and took a breath. “You don’t. Of course you don’t. But I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Theo too. He’s gone to Gryffindor Tower to ask for you again. You weren’t in the library and no one has seen you all day.”

“Why?” she asked. “It’s not like we made plans…”

Draco went still at that, his cheeks first paling and then flushing.

“Did we?” she pressed, hand on hip, now quite certain that they had not. “Oh god, Draco, don’t tell me you’ve got something dramatic planned for Valentine’s, and you haven’t told me because you wanted to surprise me?” She pinched the brow of her nose. “Please… I told you how I feel about that kind of thing…”

When he spoke again, his voice was cold, defensive, even haughty. “Actually, yes, I do. I wanted to do something nice for you today, and I’d appreciate it if you went and washed the thestral shit off your skin and the twigs from your hair, and changed into something nice. I know you know how to dress up, Granger.”

The frayed end of her metaphorical tether slithered into sight and vanished utterly, and she gasped, “You’d ‘appreciate it’, Draco? Well, you know what I’d have appreciated? Being asked!”

“I’m asking you now,” he said petulantly.

“No you’re not!” she shrilled back at him. “You’re demanding. This is the classic, old Draco - ‘Go and change, Granger’, ‘dress up nicely, Granger’.”

Draco balked visibly but ground his jaw. “I’m sorry,” he snarled, sounding more frustrated that contrite. “But we’re going to miss our booking, and I’d really like to make it. Please… will you go and change?”

She nearly said yes. Damn her, but she nearly said yes.

Even after the week from hell, with tutoring sessions and tests and homework and prefect’s patrols, she nearly said yes.

But this time, Hermione Granger was going to stand up for herself.

“No, Draco, I won’t. I’m exhausted, and all I wanted from today was to relax, have a bit of time to myself, and spend the evening in the bath and then in bed. If you’d told me instead of just assuming I’d go along with whatever grand gesture you’re pulling out of your arse, then maybe I’d think differently. But you don’t just get to order me around like I’m some pureblood debutante to decorate your arm for the evening, Draco. Goodnight.”

And with that, she stormed up the stairs, leaving an astonished and fuming Draco at the bottom, his face revolving through a series of expressions and colours.

She passed Theo on his way back down and he almost didn’t spot her as he scuttled down the staircase looking equally and devastatingly handsome as Draco had. “Hermione?” he asked, skidding to an ungainly stop and having to grab the banister to support himself as she charged past him.

“Ask Draco,” she said over her shoulder. “But whatever it is, I’m not going. You two should go and indulge your penchant for lavish evenings on each other.”

“Fuck. I knew it,” she heard him hiss, but to his credit, he didn’t follow her either.

Hermione fumed all evening, and even the bath did nothing to calm her down. Despite her agitation, however, she did sleep soundly, the exertions of the day robbing her brain of the ability to over think itself into ever tighter and tighter circles. Sometimes she could see how far Draco had changed in what would be a year this May, but other times he defaulted to his pureblood upbringing; to the son of a nobleman, used to having people do his bidding without question. She tried to be patient, but at times like this, it irked her more than she would have thought possible.

The fact that this was their first major falling out - sure, they’d had little misunderstandings and had snapped at each other before now - was also a major contributing factor to the free-floating stress and anxiety coursing through her. What if he never learned to ask instead of demand? Was that the kind of person she wanted to spend her life with? And Theo had been Draco’s boyfriend before he’d been hers. Would he always just go along with what Malfoy wanted? Doubts chased each other like kneazles and bats in her brain when she woke in the early dawn, until she thought she might go mad.

Malfoy really had been a wonderful boyfriend so far, but he was undeniably prone to bouts of showy, melodramatic romanticism. Her mind conjured images of the diamond necklace he’d gifted her for Yule, and the staggeringly expensive watch he’d gifted Theo, and she struggled to brush them away. He’d come a long way, and he’d changed a lot, but some things took their time, and she doubted whether other things would ever change.

When she stepped out of the Fat Lady’s portrait the next morning, she ground to a halt and almost walked straight back into the tower before the portrait could swing shut. She didn’t, however. She held her ground and stared at Draco who was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, looking like he’d been there all night. The charcoal grey robes were the same, if dishevelled, the shirt open at the collar. Merlin, he really had been camped out there all night.

He levered himself to his feet and stared at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he blurted before she could open her mouth. “Hermione, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t listening to you at all, and I should have asked, and I never should have just… presumed like that. I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

She stared at him. “So you know why I’m angry.”

“I didn’t ask,” he said immediately. “And I didn’t respect you. I knew that what I was doing wasn’t the right way to treat you, to show you… but I wilfully ignored that and went ahead with it anyway. I was a giant ass and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

His handsome face looked ashen and wan, his eyes pink behind the silver of his irises. He also carried the sleepless smudges of a night spent in a draughty corridor beneath his eyes.

Looking around, she asked, “Where’s Theo?”

“Hiding,” Draco said bashfully. “And brooding. It’s awful. Sitting here on the floor all night was actually preferable to being around him.”

Fighting a smirk at his humour, she asked, “Did the two of you go last night?” Wherever it was they’d planned to take her.

Draco’s brows dipped into a deep scowl. “Without you? Of course not.”

At that, she did twitch her lips. “Go and change out of last night’s robes, Draco,” she said gently, well aware that that was one of the things Draco had said to her, sparking the argument off in the first place. “And take a shower while you’re at it.”

“Hermione —” he began, taking an aborted step towards her, but he swallowed thickly and nodded. “I’ve said what I wanted to say,” he added dejectedly, and turned away to walk down the corridor with his head held in a distinctly un-Malfoy bow.

Before he’d gone two steps, she reached out and latched her fingers around his wrist. “I’ll see you in the Great Hall in a bit for some breakfast, ok?”

With eyes wide and achingly vulnerable, Draco tried out a little smile on his worried lips. It didn’t stick, but at least it had been there. “Ok. Thank you.”

She rolled her eyes as he walked off, hands in his pockets. “Such drama,” she said as she turned to find the Fat Lady watching their exchange with avid interest.

The Fat Lady popped another chocolate into her mouth as if it were cinema popcorn, and giggled. “Young love,” she crooned. “I’ll enjoy telling Violet all about this later on! You mark my words. You know,” the portrait added thoughtfully as Hermione started to walk away too, and the witch halted immediately.

“Know what?” she asked, warily.

After another chocolate and a quick giggle, the Fat Lady said, “He tried every trick he could think of to get me to let him in. I know very well who he is to you, but I very nearly had to leave my painting in frustration. He kept it up until at least two in the morning.”

“When Draco sets his sights on something, he’s very difficult to dissuade,” Hermione agreed. “Thank you for not letting him in. I wouldn’t have welcomed his presence last night. I was still too angry with him.”

The Fat Lady looked horrified and said, “As if I’d let someone in that wasn’t supposed to be here!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hermione said. “But thank you all the same.”

With a soft ‘harrumph’ around another praline, the Fat Lady nodded.

Theo was already in the hall when she entered, and she spotted him almost immediately. He was stirring his ceramic tankard of coffee listlessly with his spoon and staring into it like it held the secrets of the universe.

“Drama queens, the both of you,” she muttered fondly to herself under her breath. Ignoring the Gryffindor table, she turned her steps towards the Slytherin one.

Her presence there was now not such a surprise that most people ignored her approach without comment, effectively giving her the chance to sneak up on the lone Slytherin, sliding into the space on his right before he’d even realised she was there.

“Morning,” she said in a low voice, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. The spoon clattered against the mug and coffee slopped over the sides as his fingers released it unbidden.

“Hermione,” he breathed.

His whole face was a question, and she laughed. “Yes, I’ve spoken to Draco, and yes, he’s still got his pretty face and both his bollocks.”

“What about his cock?” Theo joked reflexively, nervously.

“You’ll have to find out later, won’t you?” she deadpanned without looking at him, reaching out to pour herself a mug of tea from a nearby pot.

After a pause, in which Theo vanished the spilled coffee that had pooled around the base of his own mug, he asked, “So… how badly did we fuck up yesterday?”

She took a sip of her tea and added a splash more milk before responding. “Not going to lie, I was really annoyed with both of you for just assuming I’d be ok with being whisked off to wherever without a moment’s warning. I hate surprises, and you both know it.”

“Yeah…” Theo admitted.

“So what were you thinking?” she almost shrilled. “That it’d be different if it came from you? That I’ll magically stop hating surprises just because they’re from you two?”

Theo half-shrugged, half-twitched, and said, “Kind of… Look, Hermione, I’m not trying to excuse us - we didn’t listen to you, and that’s the bottom line - but…” he broke off and ground his jaw for a moment.

“Just spit it out, Theo,” she said, turning and resting her elbow on the table to regard him properly.

“We were raised in a different world from you, ok? From most witches and wizards actually. Purebloods like us are expected to behave in certain… coded ways with the women we’re… courting.”

“‘Courting’?” she snorted, unable to help herself.

Adopting a sycophantic, over the top manner, he gestured and said, “Wooing, of whom we are seeking the favour, ingratiating ourselves… making our intentions known…”

“Shut up, you pompous prick,” she laughed and his face cracked into a tentative smile.

He was clearly relieved to find laughter in her reaction, not anger. “So…” he continued in a more normal tone, returning his hands to the table and running his thumbnail along the grain in the wood, eyes downcast. “So… there are certain behaviours we kind of default to, and… honestly, there are certain behaviours that the women in our circles also expect of us. Big, showy, romantic gestures being one of them. You should consider yourself lucky you didn’t wake up to a room full of messenger owls all hooting imperiously and bearing enormous bunches of the rarest roses on earth or something…”

“I suppose I should,” she said, beginning to see it now from their point of view.

“A pureblood wizard is expected to show that he can take care of the witch he intends to —” he cut off and swallowed, freckles briefly disappearing behind a rising flush. “—to court. That there’s nothing on earth he couldn't provide for her at the drop of a hat. I think we just… we just wanted to show you that we’re serious, but… we may have underestimated the calibre of the witch we’re dealing with here…”

“Maybe just a little bit,” she said dryly, and then sighed. “Did Draco really spend all night outside Gryffindor Tower?”

“Yup.”

“Big, showy, romantic gestures, huh?” she said, plucking a croissant off a nearby platter and tearing one end off. “I’m half expecting him to come in here with a single white rose in his hand,” she scoffed, looking up to find that Theo eyes were now fixed on a point just behind her. Draco had apparently arrived then.

She saw his pale hand reaching down to the table out of the corner of her eye and when he picked up a silver spoon, she closed her eyes and laughed softly to herself. A tingle of magic nearby told her what he was doing, and sure enough, when she turned around to look up at him from her seat, Draco stood there with a single, transfigured white rose in his right hand.

“Unbelievable,” she said, rolling her eyes again.

Silently, Draco held it out to her and she took it. It smelled like summer evenings and she exhaled.

“Apology accepted, Draco,” she said, glancing around. “Now sit down. You’re causing a scene.”

He slid onto the bench on her right and stared at the empty plate in front of him for a moment, hands resting elegantly on either side of it.

She reached out and placed her palm over his, feeling the slight twitch beneath as their skin made contact. Hermione squeezed his long fingers until he looked up at her, his eyes shining and his face wracked with a complex mixture of emotions that she had no hope of deciphering.

“Theo and I talked,” she said. “And he may have pointed out to me a certain ‘difference in upbringing’ that went some way towards explaining why you went to the lengths you did yesterday.”

“I still —” Draco began but she cut him off.

“We’ve established already that you could have opened your lugholes a little sooner, but I feel like we’ve also moved on from that. It came from a place of love and good intention, and as such, I’d like to propose a compromise.”

At that, Theo and Draco both gave her their absolute and undivided attention and curiosity.

Stifling a smirk, she said, “I don’t know what it is you had planned for yesterday, and frankly at this point, I don’t ever want to know. But how about we go into Hogsmeade next weekend and have dinner together. I’ll know it’s coming and what to expect, and you two can argue over who foots the bill if you want to make it a romantic gesture. Or we can split it three ways.”

“Absolutely not,” Draco said instantly and something hot flared inside her at that. “I meant splitting the payment three ways,” he added bashfully, seeing where her mind had gone instead.

At that, the tension shattered and she tipped her head back and laughed, gripping his hand for support as she leaned almost perilously far back. Theo put his hand between her shoulder blades just in case, and half the Slytherin table began to stare at them.

Theo leaned in close and said in her ear, “You’re causing a scene, dear Hermione.”

She squeezed Draco’s hand and let out a long, slow sigh as the laughter faded. “What am I going to do with you two?” she said, shaking her head.

“Be patient…?” Draco all but begged, mumbling into his coffee. Where Theo took his black, Draco piled cream and sugar into his until it was barely recognisable as coffee in the first place. She smirked fondly to herself as she contemplated his ridiculously sweet tooth, and wondered if, with his penchant for apples, he also liked sour sweets. Perhaps she’d get Harry to owl her some Haribo to try out on him.

“Hermione?” he asked, looking up at her. His skin was so pale it was like marble in the soft light of the Great Hall, and he looked eerily like the statue of a saint at a shrine in that moment, all hope and tentative expectation.

For her answer, Hermione slid her left hand into Theo’s, and then reached up and took Draco’s chin in her right hand, turning him by his sharp and now-just-perfectly-pointed chin. His eyes were wide, gleaming, silver mirrors, fixed unyieldingly on her own.

Hermione held him there between thumb and forefinger, and as she pressed a searing kiss against his pale lips, she felt Theo’s grip tighten on her left hand.

___

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

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writing masterlist | Ao3

#draco x hermione x theo #draco x theo x hermione #dramione #dramioneo #draco malfoy #hermione granger #theodore nott #angst and fluff

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 4 years

Text

Ace of Spades

So happy to finally be posting this Six of Crows multichapter fic for the Grishaverse Big Bang! Thank you so much to @corpsecro for the beautiful cover art! See end for author’s notes.

Summary: Two years since the events of Crooked Kingdom, the Crows are back and better than ever (or barely holding themselves together) in a swashbuckling hunt across oceans that leads them to legendary catacombs, a secret society, creatures of myth and whimsy, and- if everything goes as planned- a long lost treasure.

POV: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, The Lilia (OC)

Chapter 1- Whiskey in a Teacup

Seventeen months. It’d been seventeen months since Kaz Brekker watched The Wraith set sail.

He’d watched her go. Stood on the docks as the sun painted the horizon a brilliant smear of papaya, then a blush of lilac and rose, to a bruised star-speckled blue. He’d watched that far-off, distant thing that was once a ship and so much more, as it faded to a small smudge in the crease between sea and sky.

Then he’d taken the long way back to the Slat.

After that, it was business as usual. There was work to be done. In seventeen months he’d built an empire in this wretched, glorious town. Though, it had really been more like eight.

The other nine months he’d spent spending—he was positively swimming in kruge. Half the time he didn’t know what to do with all of it. There was no way to spend that kind of money responsibly.

“So spend it irresponsibly,” Jesper had suggested. “You’re the newly crowned King of the Barrel. These are your days of golden enthronement.”

And it had been fun for a while—being the big gang boss of the Barrel, owner of nearly every successful gambling den in Ketterdam, raking in the kruge every night and never worrying because there would always be more.

Kaz couldn’t help but notice that lately, however, most of his time was consumed by the golden contents of a bottle—and that conceivably, the closest thing he had to a golden throne these days was the aureate tub he now slumped in.

Alas, all newness went stale eventually. As it happened, Kaz Brekker was bored out of his mind.

And his bath was going cold.

With a toe, he spun one of the faucet nozzles. A steady stream of hot water flowed into the tub with a hiss. He sank back, submerging his shoulders under the water’s rosy surface.

He was the kind of bored that made shooting himself in the kneecap seem appealing, if only for the purpose of forcing something interesting out of what had become a very mundane procession of days. The kind of bored that even baths and bubbles and teacups full of whiskey could not fix.

Kaz swirled the finger of amber liquid at the bottom of his cup. It sloshed up onto the porcelain sides and he thought about how much the colour resembled her eyes in a shaft of sunlight.

Then he shook his head. Ludicrous. Categorically asinine.

Here he was, Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel made Barrel Boss, a veritable King of Ketterdam; and he was sketching metaphors in his head for the colour of a girl’s eyes. A girl who was long gone, and indefinitely so.

Be all this as it may, he was also neck-deep in drink and pastel bubbles, so perhaps that was about right.

Not just any girl, he reminded himself, taking another sip of his drink.

She’d assured him she’d come back. And though he knew she would in due course, he had insisted she take all the time she needed to right what had been so very wrong for such a long time.

“Make them fear your name so much they daren’t even whisper it,” he’d told her before she left. “Make them pay, Inej.”

From what he’d heard, she’d lived up to that. Surpassed it, even. Slaughterer of Slavers, they called her. Vengeance of the Sea. What he would have paid to watch her burn their ships to ashes.

Kaz smiled at his teacup.

He looked to the night sky through the wavy glass of the window beside him, raised his makeshift glass to the distorted moon perched on the city skyline, and knocked back the remainder of his drink.

It was funny. He swore he felt the whisper of her presence on the wind with that burning swig. He loosed a chuckle. He was either imagining things or he was much drunker than he thought he was.

For Kaz had not felt the familiar rise of gooseflesh on the back of his neck—usually the first indicator of his Wraith’s presence—in a long while. And as he was most certain he’d be the first to hear of a particular ship making port in the harbour, he doubted it was anything but the ghost of a memory.

Yet, the tingle skittering across his scalp, the keen alertness pricking his senses to life, continued to be the most real thing in that tub.

Definitely drunk, Kaz thought and poured himself another knuckle of whiskey.

The bottle on the service cart next to the bath was old—one he’d been saving for a special occasion. He supposed tonight was just as special as any. In fact, the past four nights had been. He’d made his way through half the bottle, toasting the moon and the stars and whatever else lay around the bathroom as he sat in the tub every evening. They were all the same these days, either way.

“What shall we toast to?” Kaz mumbled to the cloud of pink bubbles eddying near his chest. He swirled the whiskey in his teacup.

Perhaps he should toast the pistol lying next to the half-empty bottle. It was the only promise of excitement in the room.

The breeze felt nice. A cool lick of air over the slowly heating bath—

Kaz looked up. Air from where?

He was sure he’d shut the windows in the adjoining bedroom. Suddenly, his stupor washed away like water down the drain. He glanced at the pistol again, debating whether to get out of the tub and investigate or if he could risk waiting for his assailant in the warm cocoon of water.

“I’d say to the pursuit of kruge,” a silky voice murmured from behind him. “But it looks like you’ve already got that covered.”

His heart stopped. He didn’t know whether he’d pass out or vomit, but either one might be likely considering the haze of whiskey he struggled to clear from his mind.

He turned to face the source of that familiar voice.

There, perched on the edge of the granite sink top like she’d been there all this time, was someone he hadn’t seen in seventeen months. Kaz couldn’t help the slow smile that crept across his face.

“Hello, Inej,” he drawled.

“Hello, Kaz,” she said.

He could have sworn the whole world shimmered when she smiled at him, though he wasn’t entirely certain she was truly here. He could have very well fallen asleep in the bathtub, and he would be none the wiser. Yes, this was all likely a drunken fever dream. His dreams did tend to torment him sometimes.

Nonetheless, he raised a brow and said, “Fancy meeting you here. In my bathroom. While I’m… bathing.”

If she blushed, Kaz could not see it in the golden glow of the bathroom lights. Perhaps the long months of travel and hard battle on the high seas had hardened her to such taunting that would have before made her cheeks stain red like a handful of pomegranate seeds.

In fact, he’d be shocked if she’d come back without a single jagged edge, though he couldn’t tell if that was the reason she held his gaze now, or the fact that he hadn’t delivered the line as smoothly as he would’ve liked. He couldn’t muster up enough wherewithal to care at the moment. Bubbles were really quite fascinating.

The corner of her mouth tilted up. “You were taking too long.”

“I like to soak.”

“I can see that.” Laughter gleamed in her eyes. Those eyes. And suddenly he did not care if this was a cruel figment of his imagination. He’d gladly play along.

Inej eyed the water. “Bubbles?” she asked with a bemused expression.

Kaz shrugged. “One of the more exciting facets of my life these days.”

“Things slow at the Crow Club then?”

“Slow at the Crow Club, slow with the Dregs.” He dipped his index finger in the mass of bubbles and came out with a small dollop which he blew into the air. They floated down like tiny, iridescent snowflakes. “Turns out, when everyone fears crossing you, nothing interesting ever happens.”

“One would think you’d be happy about that,” she said.

Kaz merely hummed noncommittally. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “One would think.”

“You’re not, though.”

He gave her a long look. “Would you be?”

“I’d be happy if I never had to worry,” she said, then knitted her brows. “Is the water pink?”

He smiled lazily. “Courtesy of Jesper. He took up a hobby.”

“Making bath products?”

Kaz nodded. “Soaps, bath fizzers, liquid bubbles, that sort of thing. The Dregs of the Bath, he called it. A business venture. It… did not end well.”

The corners of Inej’s mouth curled, eyes glittering mirthful delight—as if every possible consequence of Jesper and a hoard of perfumes and dyes reeled before her eyes in a resplendent carousel of disastrous hilarity.

This made Kaz very dizzy. Which was ridiculous, of course. It was her carousel. He sat up straighter and decided to stare very hard at a spot on the mirror beside her head.

“What happened?” Inej asked, and Kaz realised he had not offered her an explanation to his ominous statement.

The Dregs of the Bath had actually been a fairly successful business venture for a time. Jesper was good at dreaming up fantastical innovations and scent combinations so wondrous, it surprised Kaz for how much he didn’t mind them. For all of about three weeks, his friend had certainly given even the more established toiletry retailers of Ketterdam a run for their money.

The side effects of production, however…

Kaz remembered the way Jesper had shown up to the Crow Club for nearly a month sporting dark splotches of dye up to his elbows. He’d thought it amusing at first.

Half of the Dregs were covered head to toe in ink anyway, and Kaz didn’t enforce a dress code. Frankly, he didn’t care what any of the Dregs looked like as long as they did their jobs. That is, until the patrons had started whispering something about a plague.

Then, of course, Kaz had immediately grabbed Jesper by the back of his suspenders and hauled him to the nearest sink in the kitchens.

“It won’t come off,” Jesper had groused, scrubbing furiously at his forearms.

“Then I would recommend gloves,” he’d said dryly to his friend. “They make for quite the statement piece. I can loan you a pair.”

Once the dye had all but faded, there was still the matter of the smell, which wasn’t exactly bad so much as it was a little overwhelming. The problem with making your own scented bath products, it seemed, was that the aromas clung to every perceivable surface, and spread like an autumn breeze through a dale.

This was fine when Jesper had only been making one inoffensive citrus-scented bar soap. He’d smelled like a fruit basket for days, and made the entire club give off the impression that it was immaculately clean when Kaz knew it was surely not.

But one innocent fragrance had quickly become a cloud of five, and then an assault of ten.

Soon, every dweller from the Financial District to the Barrel had learned that if you could smell the aromas of the Van Eck manor (which had more than once been mistaken for a perfumery by tourists in those sundry weeks), it was already too late. You, too, would be wrapped in the cloying fragrance cocoon of a fruit basket inside a florist inside a bakery inside a tannery in the heart of a very dense forest.

Kaz had not mentioned it to Jesper, however; and one day, the smell had simply vanished. Jesper, in turn, had not mentioned anything to Kaz. They’d been seeing less and less of each other lately.

He supposed that was just how things went. Jesper had Wylan, and Wylan made his friend very happy. He couldn’t complain about that.

Besides, Kaz had… well, he had lots and lots of baths. And whiskey. And more kruge than he could ever possibly need. And…

A breeze floated in through the open window in the bedroom.

Kaz looked at Inej. There was a small part of him that still doubted her really being here. But then, the draft blew a lock of her crow dark hair loose from its braid—and when it fluttered a caress against her cheek, Kaz knew.

He might be skilled at plotting impossible schemes, but his imagination was not so creative and vivid as this. Especially not half-seas over.

Inej still sat on the countertop, reclined against the mirror, feet dangling over the edge. She eyed him in amusement. Probably mild concern, too, though he couldn’t focus through the steam and his whiskey muddled mind enough to tell.

“He got bored,” Kaz finally said with a shrug. “Moved on to something else. Made his own ale for a while. Regardless, there’s a closet full of bath fizzers of every smell and colour at the Van Eck manor, should you desire spicing up your bath experience.”

Inej laughed. That laugh. And Kaz’s eyes went wide and sober for five whole seconds before the glaze of alcohol and warm water slipped back over his senses.

He leaned back in the tub again. A wave of water sloshed over the side, hitting the tile floor with a splash.

“I think I’ll stick to regular baths for the time being,” she said.

At that, Kaz could think of no response. So he said nothing, but hummed and sank down further into the water.

“Why are you here, Wraith?” he asked when a moment had passed.

Inej’s eyes glinted something mischievous. “I have a proposal.”

♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎

AN: Thanks so much for reading, everyone! And a massive thank you to The Serrated Spades, the team of creators, editors, and beta readers who’ve been working with me these past few months to create something really special for @grishaversebigbang !!

Check out @6crowgang ‘s GORGEOUS comic strip for this chapter!

Thanks so much again to @corpsecro for this absolute masterpiece of cover art! (GUYS. It moves!!!)

Get a sneak peek of heist planning (ft. an OC of mine) in this beautiful piece by @fishmaid !

This swashbuckling mood board by @ravenclawsandbeak sets the vibe just right!

More chapters to come soon- if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, just shoot me a message/ask 🖤💫

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#six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse big bang #soc #ck #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #wesper #kanej #jesper x wylan #kaz x inej #leigh bardugo #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #ace of spades #aos

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zecretsanta · 4 years

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Fic: What Do Stars Do Best?

To: @kiichu From: @pomegranate-belle

You gave me a lot of leeway on this one and it’s definitely out there, but I couldn’t think of an AU that sounded more fun for these two than Stardust; hope it’s fluffy enough for you! Merry Christmas!

AO3 link

Once upon a time not so very long ago in the kingdom of Stormhold, there lived an automaton – a being created from a marriage between magic and machinery. Her name was Luna, and she loved to watch the sky. On the whole, she spent her existence quietly – assisting the alchemist who had created her in his research, tending to the garden set out back of his manor, and reading novels from the library’s collection out in the sunroom, curled up in an armchair like a cat. There were slight variations, but every day followed nearly the same pattern. A quiet, undisturbed life without change or momentum.

Until the night the star fell from the sky.

Shooting stars were rare in Stormhold, but they invariably set off the worst sort of trouble because every witch in the kingdom scrambled to get hands on them. On their hearts, which were filled with enough magic to extend one’s life hundreds and hundreds of years when eaten. The practice was barbaric, but effective.

Though she’d often daydreamed about rescuing a star after reading tales of heroics, Luna thought little of the star when she caught sight of it except to wonder sadly at its fate. She herself was a potential target for witches, who stripped the world of magic like vultures for their own use, and the alchemist had never let her leave the manor grounds unaccompanied. More than that, the alchemist had no interest in stars. All his focus was trained inwards, on the makeup of the human soul. On recreating his lost love.

She herself had been an attempt at that goal, though the alchemist had never told her so specifically. But Luna’s biggest flaw was her curiosity, and she’d braved the locked, dusty rooms in the east wing of the manor once – only to find a faded painting of her own likeness. The connection wasn’t difficult to make.

Thinking of these things, she followed the falling star – a streak of silver fire flashing across the night – with her eyes until it disappeared beyond her sight line. Even after it was gone, Luna couldn’t seem to tear her eyes from the night sky, the blue-black fabric of it, the other stars beginning to come out and shine.

Though he was hard at work and clearly absorbed, the alchemist had noticed her absence by the time she finally drifted back to his lab.

“Where were you, Luna?” he asked curiously, eye to a microscope. “I wanted your help with this five minutes ago.”

“I-I’m sorry. I was out in the garden. A-a star fell and I got distracted,” she explained, fidgeting with the fabric of her ankle-length skirt.

Luna didn’t expect more than a grunt of acknowledgement at the statement, but the alchemist whipped his head towards her immediately.

“A star?” he demanded. “It fell, just now? Did you see where? Was it nearby?”

Luna shook her head, quietly baffled.

“N-no, it, um, it looked like it landed very far away. You shouldn’t have to worry about witches disrupting your research—”

“Forget witches!” came the frantic response, and the alchemist stood so quickly his chair toppled to the floor. “I need that star, Luna. For her sake.”

There was only ever one ‘her’ on the alchemist’s mind. He didn’t need to specify.

“Did you, um, reach a breakthrough?” she asked him, concerned that he hadn’t mentioned it to her if he had.

“It’s the only thing left,” he explained, dragging his fingers through his gray hair in an agitated manner. “The only thing I haven’t tried. The heart of a star has enough power to turn back time and make an old person young again. It has to have enough power to bring her back to us.”

Luna then experienced a sensation she might have called ‘stomach-twisting’ if she’d had a stomach to feel it in. The alchemist was already rushing around the lab, digging haphazardly through drawers until he found what he was searching for.

“But… To get the heart of a star, you’d need to, to k-kill it,” Luna pointed out weakly. “Like the witches do.”

It had been the alchemist who taught her about ethics, morality, how sacred life was. There was a pause, and the alchemist’s shoulders drooped.

“I know,” he said quietly. “But… It’s not like the witches. They’re doing it for themselves, because they want to live longer. I’m doing it to save a life.”

“I… I just…”

But the alchemist finally closed his hand around what he’d been searching for and dropped it into Luna’s palm before she could come up with a more coherent argument. The item was unmistakably a Babylon candle – though at its size, ‘candle’ was perhaps generous. It was more of a waxy green-black nub.

“There’s enough left for one journey,” the alchemist said solemnly. “Enough to get you to the star, but not back to the manor. Find it, take it with you, and bring it home.” He took a shaky breath, and then said three binding words he’d never used in her whole existence: “That’s an order.”

There was no room for argument there, no leeway or wiggle room. And so, Luna lit the candle. Then she closed her eyes and thought hard about the star, about the way it flashed across the night sky, falling to earth wreathed in flame.

When she opened them again, she stood in the middle of an enormous, glassy crater, hand empty. She was much closer to the mountains, she noted, glancing up at the peaks towering over her.

And then she saw the star.

He stood before her in a glowing silver dress, belted at the waist with an embroidered sash that glittered as though studded with diamonds. Tousled golden hair spilled over his shoulders, and his eyes were sharp and luminous like chunks of tourmaline. Everything about him was vivid and fantastical.

But he didn’t shine.

Which made sense, Luna supposed – it would be difficult to be content and happy when you’ve just fallen from the sky into so much danger. Still, he appeared as elegant and regal as she’d always imagined a star would be.

Until he opened his mouth.

“Who the hell are you?”

Startled as she was by his crassness, it took a few moments to answer.

“I-I’m Luna,” she explained. “I, um, I was s-sent here to get you. What’s your name?”

He scoffed, turning his face to the side.

“Dio.”

It was a very nice name, Luna thought, and then wondered if it was a characteristic name for a star or not. But she shook off the thought promptly – she’d been given an order and she had to complete it. Besides, she attempted to reason to keep the twisting feeling out of her belly, it was something the alchemist wanted. Her only family in the world. He had to know better than her, didn’t he?

“W-well, we should get going, Dio,” Luna began, a bit awkwardly, gesturing behind herself and back in the direction of the manor.

“Going?”

Dio crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet more firmly.

“Yes, I—”

“There’s no way you could make me go anywhere with you,” he interrupted snidely.

Luna blinked.

“I’m much stronger than I look,” she told him, but he only rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, right.”

Minutes later, they were marching steadily away from the crater, Luna’s left hand locked around Dio’s right wrist. The star tried vainly to tug his arm from her grip, but didn’t go so far as to hit or attack her. Not that it would have really mattered if he had; Luna was quite sturdy. Eventually, though, Dio gave up his struggling and grumbled instead.

“Where are you taking me anyway?” he demanded at last.

“Back to my home,” explained Luna, and didn’t slow her pace. “To the, the alchemist who created me. He sent me to bring you back. Based on, um, the position of the, of the stars—” And oh, was that an awkward thing to say with him right next to her!— “It’s about a, um… A nine days’ journey, I think.”

Dio stopped walking, and stumbled forward a step or two in Luna’s uncompromising grasp before she realized he’d halted.

“You’re an automaton?”

She glanced back at him, and felt her face blanch hot and pale with the white artificial blood which ran through her veins. No one had ever said it so plainly before — not the alchemist and certainly not any of his rare guests.

“I-I, um… Yes,” Luna admitted, straightening up as best she could, though it still left her only about eye-level with the star’s chin. “Yes, I am.”

“Huh.” There was no response about the revelation other than that, except the interested look in Dio’s eyes. “So… You’re taking me to an alchemist, not a witch.”

“Y-yes, that’s right.”

“But he’s probably gonna kill me for my heart too.”

Luna flinched. A wry smirk overtook Dio’s face, and he shook his head.

“Whatever. Lead on, I guess.”

It was a worryingly nonchalant attitude. Luna wasn’t sure if he didn’t believe her or if he was just confident he could find a chance to escape from her. And even with that slight, sarcastic bit of amusement on his face, he didn’t shine at all.

The sun was just creeping into the sky when Dio’s stomach rumbled. By that point, he had agreed to walk along with Luna and didn’t have to be dragged by the hand. His sense of direction was ‘fucked up completely’ by the change in perspective, he’d explained, and he’d hardly know where he was going anyway, she’d clearly have the advantage. Which was true, so Luna agreed, even if she thought he probably had an ulterior motive for it.

Of course, it also meant she wasn’t right next to him when he picked a round, purple fruit with blue spots from a nearby tree. She only caught sight of it when he lifted it to his mouth for a bite, and she ended up shouting.

“N-no, not those ones!”

He froze, the spotted fruit still in his hand.

“… Why?”

“S-sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just… The ones with blue spots are poisonous,” Luna explained, moving closer to take it from his grasp and drop it onto the ground. “Y-you need to look for fruits with red spots instead.”

She pointed to another tree, which had the safe fruit, and helped him gather a few to eat as they walked. Then, worried Dio would get himself almost poisoned again if she didn’t stick close, Luna laced their fingers together.

They continued on for a few more hours before Dio’s pace slowed considerably.

“Aren’t we going to rest and sleep?” he complained.

Luna’s brow furrowed.

“But… I don’t require sleep,” she said.

“Yeah, well I do!” snapped Dio, who then had to stifle a yawn with his free hand.

Luna blinked. She hadn’t considered that, but… Stars did rest during the day, didn’t they? She nodded.

“Th-then, I can carry you while you sleep—”

“No fucking way!”

“I-I’m sorry…” she apologized, not sure why he was so against the idea. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just the, um, the most efficient way…”

“Who cares about that? It’s embarrassing is what it is, it’d look ridiculous. I’ll just sleep here.”

Luna followed Dio’s gesture to a slightly more open space between the trees, not quite large enough to be called a clearing. There weren’t any rocks in it or anything but…

“I-it doesn’t look very comfortable,” Luna pointed out.

“I don’t give a shit, I’m not moving another step.”

The tone was belligerent and full of energy, but Dio really did look quite tired. So she glanced around, trying to find the most comfortable-looking spot, and settled down with her legs outstretched.

“Y-you, um, you can rest your head in my lap. I’ll watch over you,” she promised, patting her skirt-clad thigh.

He stared at her for a few seconds, saying nothing, and his ears turned a little pink.

“Of course you will,” he muttered finally. “What’d you do if I died or something, your little mission would fucking implode.”

Then Dio settled down on his side in the grass and laid his head in Luna’s lap, posture stiff. He was feeling awkward, she deduced. Laying one’s head in another’s lap was considered rather intimate, she supposed. But it was still clearly the best option, with the ground so rough and hard — he’d never get any sleep if he tried to just lie with his head on the forest floor. Slowly but surely as Dio began to fall asleep, the tension eased out of his frame. After almost thirty minutes, he was completely unconscious.

Asleep, he finally looked peaceful for the very first time. He still didn’t shine — though Luna didn’t know if stars could shine in their sleep. Perhaps they didn’t, if they slept during the day, because she’d never seen one shining then. Luna let the idea idle around in her mind a little longer, then went back to studying her… Captive?

Even without shining, he was beautiful. Luna wasn’t often overcome with feeling when she wasn’t reading a novel, but the urge to see if Dio’s hair was as soft as it looked was startlingly strong. She resisted quietly for three minutes, four. And then she thought, just one touch would sate her curiosity, wouldn’t it? So she traced a single index finger across the strands. They were as soft as they looked. Perhaps softer. So Luna chanced combing a whole hand through. A quiet sigh flitted past Dio’s lips, so she did it again. Before she’d quite realized it, Luna was wholesale playing with the sleeping star’s hair.

She closed her eyes and inhaled. The morning air was fresh and warm and clean, with a hint of pine and grass. But below it, she could smell Dio too — a bright tang of magic, something metallic, and a pleasant whiff of heat like the scent the air took on in a room with a stove just beginning to warm. Altogether, the medley of fragrances was pleasant, and Luna let her mind ramble idly as she wove plaits into Dio’s cornsilk hair and listened to his even breathing.

For three days, they continued in relatively the same pattern, walking at night and resting during the day. More than once, Luna had to steer Dio away from inedible plants, and he would defensively remind her that it was hard to see little details like that from all the way up in the sky, and anyway it was dark. Still, his attitude subtly improved as the days passed, and he seemed more open and curious about the world.

Even then, he didn’t shine.

Luna was reminded of something she’d read about stars – that they were incapable of shining when they had a broken heart. Was Dio’s heart broken, she wondered. Perhaps by the separation from his family in the sky, the other stars? Or was it something else entirely? She’d at least figured him out enough by that point to know not to ask, but she did wonder.

With nearly a third of their journey under their belts without issue, Luna made the mistake of thinking it might be smooth sailing – that they’d make it to the manor without encountering a witch. She was wrong, of course.

They were cornered on the morning after the fourth night, right when Dio was looking around again for a good place to sleep. Luna had been too busy trying to help, and hadn’t been paying enough attention to their surroundings. The witch nearly snuck up on them, except that she stepped on a dry twig.

Luna took up a place in front of Dio immediately, to protect him. Not a forest witch, she surmised, by appearance; too damp and gray and ragged. A swamp witch, maybe. There were distinctions, but the part of her machinery that held such classifications had been muddled by fear and couldn’t make the proper connections.

“Come now, little girl,” the witch said, a rude smile on her face and an obsidian knife in her hand. “Give me the star.”

Luna couldn’t speak. Her voice box was malfunctioning. There was nothing wrong with it, but it was malfunctioning anyway. She shook her head frantically and spread her arms, though realistically it would do little to cover Dio better. The witch laughed.

But then… A rush of warmth, energy, spread through her body, and a translucent shield appeared suddenly between them and the witch. Luna didn’t know how long it would hold, but it would at least be long enough for one of them to get away.

“R-run!” Luna managed to force past her lips.

She didn’t dare look behind her, but she heard the sound of feet slapping against the ground.

“You little…!” the witch snarled, flinging out her empty hand and summoning a burst of fire that bounced off the shield. “You cost me my star!”

It took only a few more blows to shatter the shield completely.

Luna was half made of magic, which explained the spell she’d performed not a minute earlier. It had always been a loose possibility in the back of Luna’s mind, but not one pressing enough to explore. She’d never harnessed it, purposely or otherwise, but she tried in that moment, wishing hard for another shield to protect herself. Despite her determination, there was no warm rush of energy in response. When the witch took another menacing step forward, Luna stumbled backwards and tripped over a root, landing hard on her backside – the witch, eyes wild and glowing green with rage, loomed above her, knife held high.

Then there was a loud crack and the witch collapsed to the ground. Dio stood over her with a massive branch in his hands.

“D-Dio…”

“You ok?” he asked, helping Luna to her feet.

“Y-yes, I’m fine, I… Why did you…”

Even she wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask, but Dio gave her an answer anyway.

“Think I was gonna let myself be kidnapped by that?” he asked, nudging the witch with his boot. “No fucking way. She’d eat my heart! You don’t even have to eat, and anyway you don’t have the temperament for it. Seriously, even if you tried you’d wimp out immediately and start fucking apologizing.”

“Y-you… You could have just run off,” Luna pointed out quietly. “And not come back.”

Dio froze. His fingers tightened minutely around the branch still held in his hands like a club.

“I… I don’t know where the hell I am,” he insisted at last, brusquely. “What kinda idiot goes running off into the fucking wilderness? If I’m going to ditch you it’s at least gonna be in a village.”

“I tell you I’m gonna run off in a village and you immediately take us to a village,” Dio said the next evening, crossing his arms over his chest. “You trying to get rid of me or something?”

“No, just… We… We need to get you some less conspicuous clothes,” Luna said firmly. “That way, um, it won’t be so obvious to witches that you’re a star.”

“And what are you gonna buy them with?” asked Dio, clearly skeptical. “I might not know a lot about life down here but I know things cost money.”

Luna smiled.

“Cost, yes… But, um… Money, not always,” she told him.

She’d gone down to the market closest to the alchemist’s manor once or twice in her life, and its vendors often asked for strange things in exchange for their wares. Such was the case in any village in Stormhold that made use of magic. Of course she’d have to be careful of traveling witches, but… It would be best in the long run to get Dio something that didn’t glitter so much — they still had a long ways to go to get back to the manor, and being inconspicuous was key. Only stars wore silver dresses.

Thankfully, though she’d never been to the village of Serezo, Luna knew that one of the alchemist’s frequent visitors lived there. Carlos was a water mage who was often sent to quell raging fires when they engulfed the nearby forests and threatened the village’s crops. He also, she remembered from their rare conversations, ran the local bakery with his sister. So Luna led the way along the outskirts of the village, keeping out of sight and following the scent of baking bread.

When she knocked on the back door, it was Carlos who answered. He seemed startled to see her, almost more than to see her in the company of a star. After taking in their slightly ragged appearances, he opened the door wider.

“Why don’t you both come in?”

Dio glanced at Luna, suspicious, but she put on her most encouraging smile and nodded.

“Dio, this, um, this is Carlos, he’s… A friend.”

Gratifyingly, Dio took her at her word, and followed her inside the bakery.

“Maria, can you watch the loaves?” Carlos called into the next room. “I need a few minutes!”

There was an affirmative reply, and so Carlos ushered them out of the bakery proper and into a cozy living area attached to the shop. He proceeded to listen calmly and without judgment to their tale so far, although his expression did pinch a little when Luna explained the alchemist’s orders.

“I, um, I thought you could maybe take something of mine and barter for clothes,” she finished awkwardly. “So Dio won’t be as obvious to witches.”

Carlos set a hand on her shoulder.

“There’s no need for that. He can borrow something of mine.”

“O-oh, I couldn’t ask you to—”

“Nonsense,” Carlos said. “We’re about the same build and height, and it’s to keep you both safe. Is that alright with you, Dio?”

The star, not prepared to be addressed after standing quietly behind Luna for so long, started.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I guess,” he said, shrugging and fidgeting with the sash around his waist. “Doesn’t make any difference to me.”

“I’ll be right back, then,” Carlos said, smiling.

He returned promptly with a loose, fern green shirt, a pair of brown trousers, a small strip of leather, and a rucksack.

“What’s this for?” Dio asked, picking the leather up off the pile.

“Thought you might want to tie your hair back,” explained Carlos. “You can put your star clothing in the rucksack, and I’ll give you a loaf of bread before you head on your way. Wouldn’t want you to leave hungry – this is a bakery, after all!”

Dio just stared, uncomprehending, as though the idea of Carlos’s kindness was completely beyond the realm of possibility. He was being very generous, Luna knew, but she wondered if Dio’s life had really been so empty of generosity that he had no frame of reference for it.

“Th-thank you, Carlos,” she said in his stead. “We really appreciate it. I’ll, um, come with you so Dio can get changed.”

She followed Carlos back to the bakery, and was introduced to Maria, his sister. Then, after several minutes, Dio emerged dressed in his new clothing. The colors suited him, Luna thought – brought out the green in his eyes. He’d also drawn his golden hair over one shoulder and tied the leather strip around it to gather it together loosely. His star clothes glimmered in his arms, and the sight of him looking so different was novel enough that Luna could only drink him in for several long moments.

“What’s that look for?” Dio asked at last, ears pink.

“B-because you look very pretty,” she explained simply.

Dio’s face bloomed from pink to red in an instant, and he covered it with a hand.

“Who the fuck just says shit like that outta nowhere,” he muttered. “Jeez.”

The words and the tone sounded angry, but Luna was fairly certain they didn’t actually mean that Dio was angry. His feelings had seemed irrational and incomprehensible at first, especially compared to the alchemist’s more even, easily-followable keel. But after observing Dio for several days, Luna could see that he often hid other feelings behind false shows of anger. It was difficult to gauge, but Luna had a pretty good idea this time.

Because Dio had begun to shine. It was a subtle glow, shimmering off his skin and hair, but Luna saw it, and a strange staticky feeling filled her chest.

Only when they were back in the forest did the thought come to her — Dio hadn’t attempted to escape while they were at Serezo.

That moment marked something of a turning point between them. They continued their journey at the same pace, but it felt different somehow. More open, or friendly. Luna began to fill what had been days of relative silence with speech. She talked more about the alchemist and his research, about her garden and the things she’d read. There weren’t really any other topics to draw on — her experiences were limited. But Dio actually urged her on a little, subtly, enough that she nearly didn’t notice it.

He mentioned too the things that were different about looking at life from the ground rather than the sky, although he very obviously avoided talk of his family. In the dawn hours just before settling into sleep, he sharpened a stone he’d picked up – in case they ran into another witch – and hummed unfamiliar tunes, star songs. More than all that, he began to shine. Not brightly, or regularly, but if Luna showed him something that made a slight smile cross his face, there began also to be a soft silver glow off his hair. Every sight of it produced the same warm, buzzing static feeling in Luna’s metal heart.

Neither one of them spoke about their destination, and as the nights passed it faded in Luna’s mind. As though they would never reach their journey’s end, as if they’d just keep traveling together forever.

Then, of course, the bluebird came.

Like Luna, it was a creature made with the alchemist’s magic, and it was larger than any normal bluebird would be. Tied to one of its legs was an envelope, and it hopped down onto a branch and trilled, sticking out its leg for Luna. She opened the envelope, and found inside it a piece of rolled up paper and a stick of charcoal. She unfurled the letter first and read it.

The missive was a straightforward one. The alchemist simply wanted to know if Luna was safe, if she had the star in her possession, and how far she estimated she was from the manor. It sent the truth crashing back down onto Luna’s shoulders. The alchemist didn’t want to speak to Dio, he wanted him as an ingredient in his research.

Luna felt a silken brush of hair as Dio leaned over her shoulder to get a look at the letter. He came to nearly the same conclusion.

“Kinda forgot you were taking me to get killed,” he mused, but when Luna glanced up at him he wasn’t looking at her or the letter – he was staring at the bird.

“I-I… Dio I’m so sorry,” Luna stammered. “I… I don’t, I can’t… He ordered me…”

“You’ve got a job to do, don’t you?” he asked, and his expression was flat — gave nothing away. “He’s your family. Your superior.”

“Dio… I, I don’t…”

He shrugged.

“At least it’s for a good cause, right? You told me about how he’s trying to bring his wife back. That’s not such a horrible thing to die for. Fuck if I’ve done anything useful with my life so far.”

“No!”

The shout came out much louder than Luna intended, and she clapped her hands over her mouth at the volume, dropping the alchemist’s letter. Dio’s blue-green eyes went wide. Startled. There was a glimmer of starlight off his hair, the wary beginning of a shine. The sight gave Luna the courage she needed to drop her hands away from her lips and continue.

“It’s… It’s like you said. He is my family. He’s… And I, I don’t know exactly what he wants to do with you, with your heart,” she admitted, “but I do know it’s not something good. And I can’t… I just can’t take you back there. It’s not right. I won’t do it. I’ll find a way around the order, I will.”

“And what else do you think you’re going to do?” he asked, wry and with a weary look in his eyes. “You can’t disobey him.”

Determined, Luna took his hand in both of her own.

“I don’t know…! I… A loophole. L-let me find you a Babylon candle and get you back to the sky,” she pleaded, squeezing Dio’s hand.

“What’s the point of going back,” he muttered, looking stubbornly away from her and pulling out of her grip. “The sky isn’t any better than down here.”

Luna frowned.

“But it’s your home, it would fit the, the wording of the order—”

“Some home. There’s nothing waiting for me there.”

The place in Luna’s chest where her metal heart lived ached. She wrung her hands, unable to properly express her agitation any other way.

“B-but…”

“It wasn’t an accident that I fell.” Dio paused, lips still slightly parted, as though startled he’d admitted it aloud. “I mean… Oh, fuck it— They kicked me out. The other stars in my constellation. My family. My superior. I didn’t do what they wanted me to, so they didn’t want me anymore. And that means it’s not my home anymore. It won’t work as a loophole. But… I get it, ok? If you don’t do what they want, people turn on you, and that’s fine if it��s someone you barely know, but. Fuck. Your family? Sometimes you, you know, want more than that. You don’t even get a choice, though, so whatever… Whatever happens, I won’t blame you.”

Only then did Luna realize that the reason Dio was getting so fuzzy was because her eyes were filling with tears.

“Dio, I’m so—”

“Whatever happens,” he cut over her to repeat, with a very brave look on his face, “it’s better than getting my heart eaten by a fucking witch. I don’t care if I die, but fuck if I’m going out like that.”

I don’t want you to die, she thought desperately but couldn’t seem to say. That would be horrible. You’re a good person and you saved me; you don’t deserve to die. This is all wrong.

“Where… Wh-where would you go, then?” she asked him instead. “If you could live, if you could go anywhere? Surely you’ve seen something… From, from up in the sky, I mean. Someplace that looked happy. Someplace that could be home.”

Dio sighed, and one hand came up to absently play with his hair.

“There was a town,” he said, voice going soft. “Must be further south of here, it’s down in the middle of the valley. It’s all… Quiet, and shit, but not bad. The people there seem happy. They bicker sometimes, but they garden and do magic and raise their families and watch fireflies on the hill on summer nights. They’ve got a, uh, Star Festival I used to watch every year.”

“Oh,” Luna murmured.

It was more than the ethics.

She didn’t, she realized suddenly, want to take Dio to the alchemist. And she didn’t want to send him back to the sky either, even though he’d be safer there. She wanted him to stay with her. She wanted to go with him to the little town in the valley and live in a small, cozy house and grow a new garden and watch the fireflies on the hilltop in summer evenings.

She wanted it more than anything in the world.

“I love you,” she said wonderingly.

Dio choked on his inhale and spent the next several seconds coughing.

“You what?” he wheezed at last.

“I-I just realized. I love you.”

Dio groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“How can you just say shit like that!” he demanded, voice muffled by his palms.

“But… It’s true,” said Luna, confused.

“Yeah, but you don’t just say it like… Ugh.”

“Do, um,” she began hesitantly, “do you also…?”

“Yes, I—” he began, irritated, but faltered; the blush on his face deepened. “The, the feeling’s mutual.”

The staticky feeling was back, and it spread all the way to Luna’s fingers and toes. She smiled, because even though she didn’t know what to do next, even though a solution seemed impossible, Dio cared about her too. And that was all she needed to keep her hope up.

Luna took a deep breath, nodded, and thought. The alchemist had created her. She didn’t hate him. But she couldn’t go back, not if it meant hurting Dio, killing Dio. And yet, her orders – the ones she couldn’t disobey because even if she was half magic, she was also still half machine – were ironclad.

‘Find it, take it with you, and bring it home.’

She could have justified sending Dio back to the sky, his home, except he’d disavowed it. Luna stroked the bluebird’s little head, troubled. There was no way out. Because the only other home was her own home, which was…

Which was…

The realization hit her, and her eyes went wide. She picked up the letter from the alchemist and began writing a response on the back with the little stub of charcoal in the envelope. Once done, she rolled the letter back up and turned to Dio.

“Can… Can I, um, have some of your hair?” she asked him.

He blinked, uncomprehending.

“My… Hair?”

“Just, um, a little bit?”

“I guess…”

He pulled the sharpened stone from his pocket and sliced off a lock of hair, handing it to Luna. She slipped it and her letter into the tiny envelope and waved the bluebird off — back to the alchemist’s manor, but not back home. She hoped that little piece of star would help the alchemist’s research. But she would never return.

“South of here, right?” she asked, turning to Dio with a smile.

He stared back at her, brows furrowed and teal eyes squinted.

“But… Your orders,” he said.

“There was a loophole after all,” explained Luna, feeling buoyant and free. “He told me to bring you home. But home doesn’t have to be the manor. It could mean anywhere or anyone I decide; I-I want to make a choice of my own. And… I’m choosing you.”

“You mean it?” he asked, voice hesitant.

“I really, really do. Let’s… Let’s go home, Dio.”

At the sound of those words, Dio shone. So bright that Luna felt like it should hurt her eyes, but it didn’t. The dew on the grass glowed silver under his light. Though his features were as sharp as they’d been from the beginning, the look in his eyes was molten. He held out a shimmering hand.

She took it.

#zero escape #virtue's last reward #dio/luna #kiichu #pomegranate-belle #zecret santa 2019 #stardust #submission

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drtanstravels · 5 years

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We recently stayed in Tel Aviv, Israel for four days so Anna could attend a teaching seminar for the International Retinal Panel. During our stay we would take a tour of Jerusalem, travel along the West Bank while venturing into Palestine, visit the ancient village of Masada, and then float and get all muddy in the Dead Sea. All of the main events happened in the final two days of the trip so this will just be a relatively short post in comparison, covering the initial two days of our journey, both spent in Tel Aviv.

Friday, November 1, 2019 We had left Singapore at 11:30pm the previous night, took an 11.5-hour flight to Turkey, had a 90-minute layover in Istanbul Airport, and then took another two-hour flight to Tel Aviv. When we were in Seoul, South Korea recently we got chatting to some friends of mine who had traveled to Israel in the past and the nightmares they had faced going through immigration once they had reached Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. One of them even told us about how he got cavity-searched, so we were both prepared for the worst. Once we were off the plane and inside the airport I cringed a bit when the first security guard snapped on a pair of disposable gloves, but it turned out to be just for him to search through our hand luggage. After that the line at the passport counter was taking forever, but it turned out that the reason the queue was taking so long to move was because we just had a really talkative guy checking our passports and when he first saw my Australian document, he looked up, gave me a curious look, and asked, “Do you watch Home and Away?” I smiled and mentioned that my sister used to have it on every night back in the day and that was it. We had to ask for entry border crossing cards, a separate slip of paper to be put into our passports instead of a stamp, because having an Israeli passport stamp can cause quite a bit of trouble when traveling overseas. There are currently eight countries that won’t accept passports containing Israeli visas, the most notable one being Saudi Arabia, a country to which we may need to travel one day. There are also quite a few countries whose passport holders are forbidden entrance to Israel without official confirmation from the Israeli government, Malaysia being on that list, so one of Anna’s colleagues was unable to attend. In fact, if Anna hadn’t taken Singaporean citizenship after we got married, this journey would never have happened.

As has been a pattern over recent trips, we arrived in Tel Aviv early in the morning, well before our hotel room was available so we dumped our bags with the concierge and decided to have a look around town. We were staying at the Crowne Plaza, which had an attached shopping mall so that was our first stop, mainly for a much-needed coffee and a couple of pastries, and then we discovered that there was a park and shopping district nearby called Sarona, a place with an interesting history:

Sarona was a German Templer colony established in Ottoman Palestine in 1871. Sarona is now a neighbourhood of Tel Aviv, Israel. It was one of the earliest modern villages established by Europeans in Ottoman Palestine. In July 1941, the British Mandate authorities deported 188 residents of Sarona, who were considered hard-core Nazi sympathisers. By the 2000s, the area had fallen into disrepair and was a haven for drug addicts. However, since 2003, the area has undergone massive renovation, which involved moving and relocating historical buildings before their restoration. The area is now a popular shopping district, as well as housing museums, cultural artefacts centring on its history, and IDF complexes.

Walking around Sarona was really cool with its mix of shops, bars, and cafes, as well as the Sarona Market. When Anna was purchasing a ring in one of the stores she asked for some recommendations in the area and the first one immediately given was Anita, a boutique ice-cream store. We initially thought this was a one-off, but we ended up finding incredible ice-cream shops all over the city. Anyway, we ordered a cup with two flavours, Pavlova & Mix Berries and Salted Pretzel, before we continued walking around, visiting among other shops a handmade dreidel store called Draydel House, a place with some unique takes on the spinning tops, and then it was on to Sarona Market. The market had some great looking food and there were plenty of free samples, but as you will find out over the course of this post and the next, it wasn’t an accurate representation of kosher food. We walked around sampling different cheeses, pickles, and halva, possibly the driest substance on earth. Seriously, dust is more mouth-watering than halva. Another thing that Israel is known for is pomegranate juice, generally used for detoxing, so we ordered a large one each, a decision we would later deeply regret and one that would also put the pair of us off pomegranates for the foreseeable future, despite how nice it tasted. Once we were done with the market and walking around the gardens in Sarona, we were able to check into our room at the Crowne Plaza at around 2:00pm and take a nap for a bit. Our day up until that point (besides the awesome pickle store in the market that wouldn’t let me take photos):

Anna near the entrance of Sarona

The way Sarona is set up is really cool

Looking down a row of stores

A map of Sarona in Hebrew

Anna’s dreidel

The dreidel Anna would probably get for me

Some of the ice-cream flavours available at Anita

A few more

They also had a custom soft-serve yoghurt bar

Anna about to buy ours

Our sweet and salty combination was definitely a good mix

Halva inside the market

One of the food stall rows

There is a huge variety available in this market

Unfortunately, not all Israeli food is as good as this looks

Anna in the garden

Now in our room

After sleeping for a bit we caught a cab to the waterfront, which is split into two parts; Alma Beach, a modern seaside area, and the Old City area of Jaffa. Most modern beach areas are similar, whereas ancient cities are always fascinating so Jaffa was the obvious choice to spend some time exploring first. It would be nigh on impossible to summarise the history of a 3,800-year-old port city in the Middle East, but here’s the general background:

Jaffa, in Hebrew Yafo and also called Japho or Joppa, the southern and oldest part of Tel Aviv–Yafo, is an ancient port city in Israel. Jaffa is famous for its association with the biblical stories of Jonah, Solomon and Saint Peter as well as the mythological story of Andromeda and Perseus, and later for its oranges. The city as such was established at the latest around 1800 BCE.

Modern Jaffa has a heterogeneous population of Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Jaffa currently has 46,000 residents, of whom 30,000 are Jews and 16,000 are Arabs. The 2010 film Port of Memory explores these themes. Tabeetha School in Jaffa was founded in 1863. It is owned by the Church of Scotland. The school provides education in English to children from Christian, Jewish and Muslim backgrounds.

Our taxi driver was an elderly man who kept explaining to us along the way that Tel Aviv was a party city, that around 69% of people there were aged between 30-40, and that we’d be among the older people out that night. I wasn’t expecting that, but another thing we weren’t expecting was the fact that the sun sets in Tel Aviv before 5:00pm, it’s almost as if the city is in the entirely wrong timezone and is something that would throw our body clocks off for the duration of this trip. When it had been dark there for a few hours, you’d be led to think it was getting kind of late when in reality it was only about eight o’clock in the evening. So, despite the fact that we arrived at Jaffa at 4:30pm, the sun was already setting, but this just made the place that much more beautiful. We spent the evening wandering through the narrow streets and laneways of Jaffa, taking in all of the ancient buildings, towers, and structures, plus the major landmarks in the area such as Jaffa Lighthouse, Clock Square, and the coastal canons, all while the sun set over the ocean.

After all of that walking we were beginning to get hungry and the waterside restaurants at Alma Beach were supposed to be pretty decent so we chose one called Manta Ray for dinner where we sat outdoors with some drinks and feasted on some selections from their great meze platter, as well as a grilled fish. We were to meet the organisers and other attendees of Anna’s course at 9:30pm after everyone had arrived in town, but it was barely 7:30pm by the time we finished dinner so we found a nearby shisha bar for a few more drinks and a pipe. After a while we both began to bloat up, neither of us could stop farting, and I was burping constantly, feeling the need to vomit. It was too soon after dinner to be from the fish or the meze dishes we chose, I had already checked that the water was safe to drink so that wasn’t it, coffee, pastries, and ice-cream don’t have this effect on me, and nothing else we had tried had been a large enough sample to make us sick. Except for the pomegranate juice, that is. We had drunk about a litre (33.8 fl. oz.) each several hours ago and it now seemed like we were paying for it, however, we couldn’t be 100% certain. Whatever it was, we both wanted to go back to the hotel and let it all out, resulting in me violently throwing up for a few minutes once inside, but then we felt reasonably fine as soon as we were both empty.

We met up with Anna’s course-mates in the lobby of our hotel and we walked down to a pub in another nearby part of town where everyone chatted over some beers, while those who hadn’t eaten had dinner. It was a really fun night and Anna decided to ask one of the local organisers, Tamir, if it could’ve been the pomegranate juice that bloated us. He said it’s good for you, most people just take a small glass and share it. When she told him that we’d had a litre each he was gobsmacked. “That’s not detox, that’s just tox!” was the response. Here are a whole bunch of photos from around Jaffa that evening, plus a couple of our dinner and the shisha bar before we bloated up like a couple of non-embalmed corpses:

Hashan Square

Anna and and I on the peninsula

Part of Jaffa from a distance

Looking over the ocean

People washing their hands

One of the coastal canons, imported by the Ottoman government in the 18th century to protect Jaffa from Bedouin raids

Overlooking a mosque

You can even find cool bars in towns dating back to the bronze age

Walking down a wide thoroughfare

The sun setting over the ocean

A museum surrounded by shops

Walking down an avenue

Anna posing in an alley

One of many interesting sculptures in Jaffa

The view of Clock Square from a very narrow stairway

We were both wondering if this was the Jewish equivalent of leaving your tie on the door handle so your roommate knows you have a girl inside

Etzel House

Dinner is served

We chose a few dishes from this platter

Baked blue bream with Jerusalem artichokes

Smoking a shisha while we both rapidly expand

Saturday, November 2, 2019 Anna was going to her course so I was free to do my own thing for the bulk of the day, but there was one small problem — Saturday is the sabbath, also known as Shabbat in Judaism, and this would severely limit what I was able to do due to many actions being classed as melakhah and thus being prohibited on this day of rest or historically punishable by death! Here’s a better description of melakhah:

Jewish law (halakha) prohibits doing any form of melakhah (מְלָאכָה, plural melakhoth) on Shabbat, unless an urgent human or medical need is life-threatening. Though melakhah is commonly translated as “work” in English, a better definition is “deliberate activity” or “skill and craftmanship”. There are 39 categories of prohibited activities (melakhoth) listed in Mishnah Tractate Shabbat 7:2.

Some acts forbidden on Shabbat include:

Threshing/Extraction Definition: Removal of an undesirable outer from a desirable inner.

Dissection Definition: Reducing an earth-borne thing’s size for a productive purpose.

Kneading/Amalgamation Definition: Combining particles into a semi-solid or solid mass via liquid.

Cooking/Baking Definition for solids: Changing the properties of something via heat. Definition for liquids: Bringing a liquid’s temperature to the heat threshold. This threshold is known as yad soledet (lit. “A hand reflexively recoils [due to such heat]”). According to Igrot Moshe this temperature is 43 °C (110 °F).

Extinguishing a Fire Definition: Extinguishing a fire/flame, or diminishing its intensity.

Ignition: Definition: Igniting, fuelling or spreading a fire/flame.

Transferring Between Domains Definition: Transferring something from one domain type to another domain type, or transferring within a public thoroughfare.

Now, some of you reading this are probably thinking, “Why would you care, you’re not Jewish.” This is true, however, despite me seeing fewer Orthodox Jews in Israel than I did on any given day in New York City, prohibition of melakhah on Shabbat is enforced by law, although not to an extreme. Although no shops would be open, these restrictions would severely limit my food purchasing options. Because it had been powered down for Shabbat, I pushed my way through the revolving door to exit the hotel and hit the street. I was quite hungry due to the fact that I had vomited everything I had eaten the previous evening so I figured I might get lucky finding somewhere open to eat at Sarona. I saw a cafe with people all around it so that’s where I went and I ordered the egg white omelette on the menu, which came with some bread and a side salad. I guess the hotplate must’ve been kept burning from the previous day and eggs aren’t really a solid or liquid so changing their properties via heat would be fine. Salad was also okay because the form of the lettuce doesn’t change, only the size, and it was cut quite large so it wasn’t done to make it into a more usable, productive state. The bread had obviously been made the previous day and when it came to dissection of the food in order to eat, that was all on me, not the cafe. Juice wasn’t an option due to threshing/extraction, but it was when I ordered a latte that things got weird. The waiter told me that he could only offer me a “very weak coffee” which was the result of the water and milk only being heated to about 40°C in keeping with the law, a temperature that also isn’t really hot enough for the coffee to properly infuse the water, thus making it not very strong. It actually turned out to be infinitely easier to get a beer anywhere in town that morning than coffee. My order at the cafe was able to be brought from the kitchen to my table, and also to diners who were seated outside, without transferring between domains due to the installation of an eruv, described as:

An urban area enclosed by a wire boundary which symbolically extends the private domain of Jewish households into public areas, permitting activities within it that are normally forbidden in public on the Sabbath.

Although the Jewish community must strictly adhere to laws of prohibition on Shabbat, going to the effort of building eruvs and heating liquids to a slightly cooler temperature than normal seem like ways of pranking an almighty deity who is easily fooled by the loopholes in the rules he wrote. Then I remembered this scene from the documentary Religulous:

youtube

After eating I decided to have a look around the beach area, making my way there via the main shopping district en route, but obviously everything was closed except for bars, restaurants, and cafes and wouldn’t be opening again until late in the evening or within the next few days. I was also having trouble getting cash out of an ATM again and this time I wasn’t sure whether the machines weren’t accepting my card or were just unable to function in general. I arrived at the beach and it was quite nice with a bunch more seaside bars and restaurants, as well as plenty of entertainment, some of which was unintentionally funny. There was Israeli folk dancing that happens at Gordon Beach every Saturday, as well as a big outdoor gym area where meatheads could work out like in Venice Beach, California, all just grunting, flexing, and slapping butts. Instead, I walked out along the pier to a lighthouse, just taking in the sights. It was a nice walk, but I could feel myself getting sunburnt so I went back to a shaded area along the shore to sit down with a bunch of senior citizens for a bit and that’s where I got the biggest laugh of the day. There were three guys working out there, one was absolutely ripped and doing chin-ups and some other impressive feats on horizontal bars directly in front of us, another was doing push ups, all the while giving the third guy tips on capoeira moves. If you are unaware of what capoeira is, it’s a Brazilian martial art that combines acrobatics, dancing, and complex moves involving hand plants, kicks, and flips (that link is a video that will give you a decent idea). The only problem was that the guy trying to do it wasn’t particularly good at capoeira so I found myself sitting there with a bunch of confused older people who were innocently trying to figure out why a muscly dude was doing cartwheels in the sand in front of several other muscly guys. It was a hot day, a dry heat compared to the insane humidity of Singapore, but I had no cash for a drink so I had a sip out of the drinking fountain where people also washed the sand off their feet, and walked for forty minutes back to the hotel, passing a cheese shop that you could smell before you could see, despite it being closed, along the way. Once back I killed two birds with one stone, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water from the minibar and making an instant coffee in the room, which turned into mud when I added water, but it still gave me the caffeine fix I had been lacking. I also managed to get cash out of an ATM next our hotel and Anna was still going to be a while so I planted myself in a bar back in Sarona for a few hours until she was done.

My kosher Shabbat breakfast with very weak coffee

Walking into town

At the beach

Looking down the boardwalk and across the road

Some huts near the ocean

Now walking down the promenade

Was Banksy in town?

More art, this time honouring the older community

Israeli folk-dancing

Beanbags on the beach

One of many cafes along the promenade

Coming over a little cloudy

That’s better

Waves crashing along the pier

A lighthouse at the end

I’m still trying to figure out if this building had caught fire or was just art-deco

The cheese shop on the way home. I wish it was open

The bottom of my instant mud coffee

Anna was soon back from her teaching and we had a dinner that night with everyone else involved in the course. This meant taking a minibus with the International Retinal Panel crew back to a restaurant at the beach, Anna’s first venture into that area of Tel Aviv, so we had a look around the boardwalk and took a few photos first. It was nice to hang out with everyone while we were feeling 100%, they were really cool people and an interesting mix of nationalities, some local, others coming from Columbia, Italy, India, France, Argentina, China, and a multitude of other other countries. The restaurant we went to looked good, but the entire group, myself included, consisted of about 30 people, taking up two massive tables, and the platters we received, two per table, were to be shared. The problem with this system was that Anna, myself, and a few others were tucked away in a corner on the back table and our food and drinks kept failing to appear. Everyone else received a meze platter except us, we waited about 20 minutes and then had to ask for it, as well as remind the staff that we had also ordered drinks. When it finally arrived, the other areas of both tables were receiving a grilled fish that looked delicious, but when we finished our platter the fish never arrived, nor did the second drink I ordered. We asked about the fish and when it finally came ours was just what seemed like fish offcuts including several heads, all of which was deep-fried to the point that it was so crunchy it was pretty much inedible. We didn’t bother eating much of it, that second beer never came, and everyone that was there for the course had homework to do so we got back in the bus, the interior blue light making my Rick and Morty “Pickle Rick” shirt appear as if it were covered in turds, and we went back to the hotel, them to do group work and me to have a couple of drinks at the hotel bar until it closed.

Anna’s first stroll along this area of the beach

The boardwalk at night

All of the people involved in Anna’s course

A merry-go-round

Some of the food has arrived, but it also looks like others are asking for stuff that hasn’t

If our fish were pork, it would’ve been the parts that go into a sausage roll

Definitely looks like faeces

Tel Aviv is such a cool city and nothing like we expected, yet a completely hidden gem when it comes to traveling, but this was just the beginning! Stay tuned for the next instalment when we do all the cool stuff you would expect one to do while in Israel that in no way would fit into this post, like visiting Jerusalem and floating in the Dead Sea.

The first two days of our four-night trip to Israel We recently stayed in Tel Aviv, Israel for four days so Anna could attend a teaching seminar for the International Retinal Panel.

#beach #Jaffa #sabbath #Sarona #Shabbat #Tel Aviv

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mentalmimosa · 5 years

Text

always been true

Keith hates Valentine’s Day. He always has, even when he was a kid and could still appreciate the cards that got passed out in class, stuck in shoe boxes decorated with pink and red paper they perched on the edge of their desks. Those were the days, honestly, when valentines came with lollipops or candy hearts attached instead of weighty expectations of love and romance and freshly-cut flowers that no one real or imagined could ever possibly meet.

He’d had exactly one Valentine’s Day in his life, one, in goddamn 21 years, where he’d spent it with somebody who’d bought him flowers. And a card. And some amazing pomegranate-flavored lube. One day and one night in a lifetime of Februaries when he’d gone to bed fucked out and happy with Lance’s head on his chest and not mad at the stupid, fake holiday. Not mad at all.

But now Lance was gone, peaced out into the arms of a hot girl with anime hair that he’d met in his communications seminar and Keith’s on his couch, alone, drowning thoughts of his one perfect Valentine’s in Sam Adams and salt and a sappy-ass movie.

Well, ok, he isn’t alone alone. Shiro’s there. But Shiro’s always there, a best friend-cum-bulwark or something, a sea wall, a steadying force who can pull Keith out of any pitch and back into level flight. He doesn’t count.

“Well, thanks,” Shiro says with a chuckle. “I guess.”

“No, no,” Keith says, “you’re awesome and I love you, Shi, but it’s not the same thing. You get it, right?”

Shiro turns a little, parks his elbow on the back of the couch and props his cheek against his palm. “Sure, yeah. I get it. You miss Lance.”

Keith groans. Takes a long, last pull at his beer. “That asshole? No. No way.”

“Keith.”

“I don’t.”

“Uh huh. So you just spent the last twenty minutes recounting what happened at this time last year because you hate his guts?”

God, he hates it when Shiro does that.

“Does what?”

“When you, you know”--he flaps his hands around, feels like a spiraling bird--“do that. Say something and like, bam. Hit on the truth.”

Shiro laughs, a sound that shakes the couch, that tugs a smile out onto Keith’s face. “I can lie if you’d rather.”

Keith reaches for another beer. The bottle’s lost its chill. The stuff tastes like warm cherries. “No,” he manages behind his swallow. “Ugh. Please don’t.”

He feels floppy, like if he gave it a chance, the sofa would swallow him. His limbs are loose and he’s sitting too sprawly. There’s barely room for Shiro on the damn couch.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Crowding you. Sorry.”

Shiro smiles at him. Shiro’s always smiling at him. “It’s fine.”

He isn’t toasted like Keith is. He hasn’t been making out with cherry lager since six o’clock. He’d come over at eight, unexpected, bearing takeout and still wearing sweatpants.

“Straight from the gym, basically,” he’d said, looking a little sheepish. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

And Keith, who’d been resigned to a long, solitary wallow, who’d been seriously annoyed when the fucking doorbell had rung, had beamed at Shiro, thrown his arms around him, breathed in the smell of sweat and spice and felt for the first time all day like he might actually make it through this day ok.

“Hey, no,” Keith had said, his arms still around Shiro’s back, “it’s good. I’m glad you came.”

So Shiro’s had two beers--well, one with dinner and another he’s been nursing ever since. It’s on the coffee table, though, slid careless beside their empty plates. Keith’s a little sloppy and Shiro isn’t and that’s ok. That’s always been ok. Shiro’s always been ok with his mess.

“Whatever happened to that guy?”

Shiro’s nose wrinkles. “What guy?”

“The, ah, shit, the guy you were seeing. The Crossfit guy you met at yoga.”

“Oh. You mean Curtis.”

Keith twists onto his side a little, lays his head on the back of the couch. “Mmmm. Yeah, him.”

Shiro’s ears flush pink. “We, ah. You know. Things just kind of burned themselves out. It happens.”

“Oh.” His tongue feels a little twisty. “Shit, I’m sorry."

“Don’t be. It wasn’t serious. I thought I told you that.”

“Yeah, you did, I just, you know, I figured you were still together. You hadn’t said anything.”

There’s something prickly in Shiro’s eyes, even as his shoulders lift in an easy shrug. “Not much worth saying, I guess.”

His hand finds Shiro’s leg, squeezes. “Sorry.”

“You keep saying that.” Shiro’s mouth turns up. “Guilty conscience? You’ve gotten nothing to apologize to me about.”

Keith grins. “Oh yeah? What about the time I backed into your car and put a dent your fender?”

“In high school? Come on."

“Dude, your dad wouldn’t talk to me for a month after that.”

Shiro laughs, his hair falling in his eyes. “Water under the bridge. Long since.”

“Ok, what about your senior prom? When I spilled Hunk’s punch all over your jacket at the pre-party and you had to go home to change? Adam waspissed .”

“He didn’t need a lot of encouragement in that department, Keith. You remember. He lived to be pissed off at something. I think you did him a favor, actually; he was always edgy when we were having a good time.”

The words fly out before he can stop them. “Even when you were fucking?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “Even then.”

“God, that must’ve sucked.”

“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes, not so much.”

Keith’s face is hot. Beer, probably. Maybe the heat’s up to high. Maybe he doesn’t want to think about Shiro and Adam having tense, angry sex. “I really, really didn’t like him, Shiro. Like, at all.”

“I know.” Shiro’s mouth twitches. “You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

“But I liked Matt. He’s a good guy. Boring, but nice. Like white rice.”

“You thought he was boring? You never said."

“Yeah, I mean, he never really talked to me about anything. We never, you know, ever had a conversation or anything. Not the whole time you were dating, what was that, like, two years?”

“About that, yeah. We broke up right before you started college.”

“Oh, right. That’s right."

“Well,” Shiro says. He reaches up and brushes Keith’s hair from his face. “If we’re being honest, I wasn’t a big fan of Lance.”

“What? You told me you thought he was great!”

“I did, sort of. In principle. It seemed like he made you happy.”

Keith sighs, his breath a thousand candy hearts. “Yeah, he did.”

“So, I liked that. But I also didn’t.”

“You’re not making any sense, Shi.”

Shiro’s fingertips are still on his face, balanced on the bolt of his jaw. It feels nice. “I like seeing you happy,” Shiro says. “You deserve that, Keith.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve told me that thousand times before. A million, maybe.”

“But.” Shiro’s thumb traces the line of jaw and rounds the curve of his chin. “I want to be the one who does it.”

Shiro’s eyes when they find his are dark, dark dark, darker than Keith’s ever seen. He can’t look away. He doesn’t want to. “Who does what?”

“Who makes you happy.”

“You always have.” He swallows. When did that get so hard? “Come on, Shi. You know that.”

There’s a flicker over Shiro’s face, the sun turning through glass. “You’re drunk. We can’t talk about this right now, Keith, you’re--”

“I’m not drunk! I’m toasted. Big difference. You know, you’ve seen when I’m shitfaced. Get real. This is not that.”

Shiro makes a sound, a low, pretty thing in his chest and Keith can feel, he can, can’t he, because his palm is spread over Shiro’s sweatshirt, his fingers digging in deep.

“Just say it, Shiro. Tell me what--!”

And then Shiro is in his face, curled over him, their noses, their foreheads, touching, Shiro’s words pouring out in a rush. “I want to kiss you. I want to be the one who kisses you good morning and makes love to you at night and takes care of you, Keith, ensures that you’re happy, that you know how good you are, how beautiful, how safe.”

Keith moans, high and sweet, a noise he’s never heard before, never knew he had stored up inside. “Jesus, Shiro.”

“I want to suck your cock and taste your come and make you dinner and yell at you to pick up your clothes.” Shiro’s pushing him, pressing, shoving him back against the far arm of the couch, holding Keith down with the weight of his body. “I want to watch you brush your teeth and I want to eat you out and I want to say I love you every second of every fucking day because I do, Keith, god, I have since we were kids and you tried to steal my goddamn bike from my front yard.”

“Didn’t try to steal it,” Keith says, somehow, clutching at Shiro’s hair, the tight turn of his waist. “Didn’t try. I did.”

Shiro grunts, their hips catching, rocking the bloom of his cock against the meat of Keith’s thigh. “Yeah, Keith,” he gets out. “You did.”

He pins Keith with his kisses, with the arch of his back and the hot little sounds he makes when their tongues touch, when Keith pulls at his sweatshirt, when their chests meet again, hot and bare. Shiro’s all snarl and shove, panting at Keith’s mouth with a ferocity that turns Keith’s crank hard; all they’ve done is kiss and grind and Shiro--steady, smooth, always unruffled Shiro--is desperate for it, a groaning, greedy mess and it makes Keith feel like a god, like a superhero or something, to have stripped his best friend--the person he loves most in the world, the person who’s always loved him--down to this.

Some part of him thinks: why haven’t we done this before?

Some part of him answers: it wasn’t the right time. not till now.

He’s hard and he wants Shiro to touch him, wants his mouth on his dick so goddamn bad, but right now, it feels amazing to reach down and squeeze the hot line of Shiro’s cock through his sweatpants and feel the hot blurt of wet underneath, feel Shiro’s breath stagger and his hips try to fuck into Keith’s grip.

“Oh, fuck,” Shiro says in his ear, dark chocolate and cherries. “Oh, fuck, that feels good.”

“Yeah? How’d you like it if I took it out?”

“ Please. ”

“Put my hand right on it.”

“Yes!” Shiro laughs, low and desperate, rubs the sound against the stretch of Keith’s neck. “Fuck, Keith, don’t tease me.”

“Why not?” He rubs his thumb over the head, grins when Shiro whines. “You seem to like it.”

“Because if you keep doing that, I’m going to come all over you.”

Now Keith’s the one whining, his whole body a bolt. “Fuck yes. Do that. I want you to.”

“Keith.” A warning. “You can’t say shit like that.”

Keith turns his head and finds Shiro’s mouth, soft and savage. “Why not? Because it makes you hot?”

“Yes. Yes . You have no idea. None. I just--” His hips wrench. “Wanted you for so long.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t--I can’t, oh, god --”

He can’t stand it anymore, he can’t. “Shiro,” he hisses, “fuck, please. Take this out.”

Shiro pitches up enough for them to scrabble and then he’s free and he’s in Keith’s fist, fat and damp, and he’s clutching at the couch’s arm, fucking Keith’s hand and kissing him again, big, open mouth things that melt one into the next.

“You’re so hard,” Keith murmurs when he can, when Shiro’s panting against his mouth. “Are you gonna be this hard when you fuck me?”

“Yes.” Shiro’s voice is a shudder. “Fuck yes. I’ll have to lick you out forever to get you ready. And even then, when you’re dripping, I’ll have to push it in slow. So slow, baby. Watch you swallow my cock, inch by inch, and then when I’m inside, you’ll have to beg me.”

“For what?” Keith nuzzles Shiro’s chin. “I’ll have you. What else would I need?”

He can feel Shiro’s cock jump. “I won’t move until you ask me for it. You have to.”

“Ask you to fuck me?” Keith’s fist is moving faster, his own dick screaming louder in his jeans. “Beg you? You want me to beg for you to fuck me with this big, gorgeous cock?”

“Yes. Oh, god, yes.”

Keith is flying, Keith is soaring, Keith is hotter than he’s ever been in his life. “Then come on, fuck me, Shiro. Please. Fuck me. I need it.”

Shiro moans, ragged and desperate. It goes right the hell to Keith’s heart. “Yeah? You do?”

“I need you,” Keith says and it’s true, goddamn it. In a dozen different colors and different shades. It’s always been true. “I need you to fuck me, baby. Hold me down just like this and make me take it.”

“It’s yours,” Shiro says, his hips pumping, his cock swelling, his mouth rubbing like silk over Keith’s. “Anything you want, all of me, honey. It’s yours.”

All at once he wrenches up, pushes himself up on one hand and folds the other over Keith’s and then he’s coming, wild-eyed, desperate, and Shiro’s spunk is on Keith’s chest and his chin and at the corner of his mouth and Shiro’s saying his name like rose petals, painting the air with candy hearts and pink streamers and kissing him again, holding him, like Keith wants him to do for the rest of his life.

“I love you, Shi,” Keith says, like he always has, but this time, the words feel different, better, have a new and perfect sort of weight.

Shiro kisses his neck, sucks gentle at the turn of his throat. “Mmmm. You do, huh?”

“Yeah.” Keith strokes a hand through Shiro’s hair. “Pretty much my whole life.”

In a few minutes, he’s sure, Shiro will peel himself up and rub his hand over the jut of Keith’s dick, grin sneaky as he opens Keith’s fly. He’ll fold that gorgeous mouth over Keith’s needy dick and look up at him with those soft eyes, sated storm clouds turned back to gray, and Keith will pet his face and Keith will grab at his hair and Keith will come over Shiro’s tongue and down the back of this throat and amazing as that sounds, he’s ok with this, too: Shiro’s head on his shoulder and his hand on Keith’s chest, his breath dipped down to a hum.

“Funny,” Shiro says softly. He lifts his head. “Funny thing about that.”

“Which is what?”

“I love you, too.” Shiro smiles, his mouth wet, their eyes perfect colliding. "Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#sheith #first time #friends to lovers #past keith/lance

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sweettoothshipperrotg · 5 years

Note

FrostedNature- Soulmate AU or College AU? Or whichever one you're feeling most inspired by really, I just need some FrostedNature fluff :))))

Hi! Sorry it took longer than expected, but I went to see Captain Marvel and got caught up with other stuff. ^^;To make up for it I made it a bit longer and extra fluffier

There was also this anonymous ask on my inbox: “FrostedNature- Soulmate or College AU? Preferably something with fluff :)”, so I decided to combine them. Hope you don’t mind.

(Soulmate au where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever the hell you want, it will show up on your soul mate’s skin as well)

Here is some College Soul Mate Au for y’all :D

‘What’sthe answer for question 32?’

Therushed and messy handwriting that appeared in her forearm shouldn’t havesurprised her. She and Jack had been together for almost two years now.

But,really? Right now?

*****

Shehad been waiting her whole life to meet the owner of said handwriting, dreamingas many others of a sweet someone that the fates had decided to pair her with.

Emilymainly owed that to her mother. When she was a little girl she loved to hearthe story of the first time Kozmotis Pitchiner’s handwriting had etched ontoher skin; long delicate traces, as if he carefully trying to make a good firstimpression through his caligraphy.

Soit had been a surprise when Emily reached the age when she could meet her soulmate and nothing had happened for an entire year. At eighteen was when yoursoul mate could reach out to communicate.

Theyear of radio silence had been a little disheartening in the beginning, but herlife continued onwards and her college life had kept her busy enough. Shedidn’t write to her soul mate either. It wasn’t customary for girls to be onesto break the ice in this strange soul mate texting, but it wasn’t somethingthat had ever deterred her.

Shehonest to god had no idea what to say.

Shewas away from her home, knew no one, and felt like she had been pushed into adeep pool without knowing how to swim. The rhythm marked by these new settingshad her under complete uncertainty and was frankly overwhelming.

Shefelt like a mess and wasn’t confident enough to meet her soul mate just yet.

Solife had moved on and so had she. Slowly, she had adapted to her new situationand carved a small niche for her to build her life.

Imagineher surprise when on a day when she felt like crap – it was the anniversary ofher mother’s death, and she had decided to skip class and cry up a stormbecause she just felt like it –, her soul mate had decided to surprise her.

Shehad been sitting by the window sill, her body clad in pajamas and wrapped inblankets, and drinking a huge cup of cocoa with an amount of marshmallows andcinnamon that could only been described by any outsider as over indulging (asif she cared).

Emilywas almost certain that she had at least killed half a rainforest with theamount of tissues she had gone through, judging by how red and puffy her eyesand nose felt.

That’swhen the itching on her arm started. The foreign sensation wasn’t unpleasant,almost like the kind warmth that invades you when enjoying a nice book or whenfinding out that you still have a few more hours to sleep and don’t have toleave your bed.

Herforearm tickled a little and when she pulled back the sleeve of her pajama herbreath go stuck in her throat.

Gentleand soft strokes of ink started to appear all across her skin, spreading andtwisting into elaborate shapes.

However,the ink never turned into words but morphed into images of intertwined petals,stems and leaves.

Turnsout her soul mate was quite an artist.

Theywere drawing her flowers…her favorite flowers: Snowdrops, heathers, floribundaroses and freesias.

Tearsswelled in her eyes.

Soulmates felt more than saw theirsignificant other, inklings and sensations on the back of their brains ofemotions the other was feelings or things that they liked.

Despitethat she had never seen her soul mate, she knew things about them. Littleflashes and sensations that budded inside her but recognized weren’t her own.

Hersoul mate liked the cold. A deep feeling of happiness was linked to the idea offresh fallen snow. They also had quite the fixation on peppermint coffee,judging by the wave of satisfaction that invaded her and the ghost taste of thebeverage at the back of her tongue.

Theflowers that appeared on her forearm were to tell her that they were sorry thatshe felt sad and their wish for her to feel better. That she was not alone.

Asmile bloomed on her lips as she spent the rest of the day admiring thedesigned etched onto her skin, tracing it with her finger to appease that sideof her brain that kept on telling her that she was dreaming.

Sheeven took a few pictures of it. Although the markings were not permanent andwould fade eventually, a lot of people opted to tattoo the first phrase thatappeared as a memento of their first interaction – which was all fine and dandybut needles freaked Emily out.

Twomonths flew by before meeting her intended one.

To her delight, her soul mate continued todraw things. Turns out they were quite the artist.

Whenit happened, she was walking back from a class to her dorm, smiling at thebeautiful silhouette of a rabbit. It was drawn in such a way that it almostlooked that it would actually start moving and skipping across her arm. Whenshe got home she would add a new picture for her collection.

Soenraptured she was at how the traces stretched on her skin that she paid noattention to the world around her; her trance only broken when she foundherself stumbling backwards onto the ground and landing on her butt, her thingsscattering everywhere.

Alanky young man was also on the ground in front of her, a fellow victim oftheir collision.

“I’mso sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” He profusely apologized whilegetting up and offering his hand to help her get up.

Shecouldn’t hold back a tiny gasp.

Hisforearm sported a very delicate and detailed drawing of a rabbit in the sameplace as hers. The drawing now sported a disjointed line that the marker hadleft across the image due to them bumping onto each other.

Emily’seyes quickly scanned the boy’s face, registering each and every detail. Hiseyes were now focused on her arm, the drawing now matching his, even to theincongruent line that had been added in their little fender-bender.

Theireyes met, a smile spreading across the other’s face.

*****

Jackhad been surprised to find Emily by mere coincidence.

Hehad not tried to reach for her when he turned 18 and not after a whole year.

Hislife had turned upside down when his mother had become quite sick and he had tostay behind to help her and his sister out during a long and arduous recoveryprocess.

Theresponsibility of taking care of their house and their financial well being hadfallen on his shoulders, and had it not been for the support of his godfatherand family friends it would have certainly crushed him.

Northhad pulled enough strings for his college attendance to go from full time toonline and juggled around his papers and other homework into a more manageableschedule.

Sandywas always available to cover for him if he couldn’t make it to the hospitalwhen Jack was swamped with work at the local ice-skating rink or his homework.

Bunnyand Tooth were glad of looking after his little sister when he couldn’t. It wasalso a plus that they always brought food to his house or refused to chargethem whenever the siblings ate at the couple’s bakery.

Therehad been so much on his plate that finding his soul mate had been placed on theback burner. He had more urgent matters to focus on.

Ithad been hard, taxing every ounce of his patience, strength and spirit. He feltway older that he looked and he had come this close to giving up. But despiteeverything, he had managed to keep them afloat and pass his first year ofcollege.

Jackhad been rather apprehensive to leave his mother and Emma to finally attendcollege, but his friends at home had assured him that they would take care ofthe pair and that he should walk towards his future without feeling guilty.

Nowhe was at college full time and idea of having enough stability around himbrought back the idea of his forgotten soul mate.

Likethe rest of the world, he had learned details about his soul mate.

Thefirst impression came to him in the middle of the night while he was exiled inhis hometown trying to prepare a decent essay on how the influence of ancientart styles had evolved through the passing of time– he almost felt like he hadimagined that one due to the lack of sleep.

Thelingering smell of a floral perfume helped him deduce that his soul mate was agirl. It almost felt like it clung to his skin when in fact he knew very wellit was a sensation his brain was picking up.

Jasmineand coconut.

Judgingby how frequently she used it, it was her favorite.

Thenhe started smelling flowers. The sensation of soft petals and the fact that hedidn’t experienced them as much as the perfume lead him to believe these wereflowers that she liked.

Italso seemed that his soul mate was quite into baked goods. Out of nowhere, hewould find himself craving for scones, chocolate and pomegranate cupcakes,lemon cookies…

Hehad never tried half of the things he now felt an intense desire to eat. Itclearly had to be her influence.

Emmaand Tooth had teased him about his soul mate having an excellent taste when hearrived from his late shift with a box full of the aforementioned cupcakes(courtesy of Bunnymund at Jack’s request).

Afterhe had managed to ease himself into the whirlwind that was college, he had beenmore tempted to write to the girl that had slowly inserted her presence intohis life.

Hewas battling with the idea of what to even say when sadness struck him like atidal wave.

Itgave him an unpleasant sensation at the pit of his stomach and the need to cryalmost overwhelmed him.

Hewas entirely sure that this feeling belonged to someone else. Her emotions hadnever been so strong.

Aftereasing his breath and heartbeat into a normal pace, he sat there dumbfoundedwith his brain scrambling to analyze what was going on.

Hersadness was almost an echo of how he felt when he heard the doctor say his momwas gravely ill, when he felt the weight of the world almost crushing him down.It felt an awful lot like being drowned.

Hewanted, no, needed to make her feelbetter.

Beforehe even knew what he was doing he was grabbing one of his best and finestmarkers he had and drawing onto his skin.

Pushingdown the bout of emotions, he focused on carefully drawing the flowers thatalways seemed to cheer her up. He knew which ones they were. He had spent everyopportunity he had at flower shops trying to discern which ones matched theones that came to him. A vague shape or a tinge of fragrance had been his onlyclues and it had taken him a while to find them, but he had.

Ashe continued to spread the flowers onto their shared canvas, the sadness slowlywas dulled and eventually overcame by a sensation of warmth, happiness, andgratitude.

Bythe time he was done, a pleasant feeling of pride took over him. Not only washe proud of how beautiful it had turned out – he was pursuing a bachelor’sdegree in Art, after all -, but also of how happy it had made her.

Hesensed a ghost touch across his forearm and he closed his eyes, relishing andlingering on her contact while she traced her fingers across the petals andstems of the ink flowers.

Thisevent only served as incentive to keep on drawing. He would always have histool at the ready for whenever the impulse to draw something that may make herday easier struck. Although the desire to get to meet her and speak to her hadincreased tenth fold, he was enjoying their form of communication so much thathe didn’t want to stop. ‘Just a little longer’, he would say to himself.

Itwas an understatement to say that his heart almost jumped out of his chest whenhe saws the rabbit on the forearm of the cute girl he just bumped into.

Andthe rest, as they say, is history.

Theysay you feel complete when you find your soul mate. He had never been a fan ofthe concept, the idea that you feel incomplete and that you’re not truly worthyuntil you meet your other half sounding completely ridiculous to him.

Butnow he had to admit if life had given him a chance to meet Emily sooner, hewould have taken it without hesitation.

Itwasn’t that she made him complete. He had a life before her and it didn’tchange when he met her. But somehow, everything with her feels like more.

Beingwith her gave a particular shine to things: his hobbies, his surroundings. Itfelt more special whenever he got to hold her hand or see her smile.

Ithad been even better when they found out they were pursuing the same degree,and found it even funnier that they had never acknowledged the other’s presenceamong their classmates.

Whichnow brought them to the current situation…

*****

‘Howcan you not know? We studied this for weeks!’

‘Yeah,well we also made out in between said study. I might have forgotten the finerdetails’

Jacksmiled while imagining her blushing at the memory of said heated make outsessions. He didn’t have to wait too much for her answer, though.

‘You’rean idiot and I’m punching you once we’re out. Do you realize how busted we’reif the catch us?’

‘Maybebut think of what a bummer it would be if I couldn’t show up with you to myhouse on Christmas break.’

Afew minutes go by before she deigned to answer back.

‘Theanswer is B.’

Hesuppressed a smile in order to not bring attention to him. God, he loved her somuch.

Hefinished the remaining questions in record time and, after a quick revision ofhis answers, he handed the test to the teacher.

Onlywhen he was installed at a bench on the hallway to wait for Emily to be donewith the test, he dared to pull back his sleeve.

‘Andyou better be buying me a nice dinner after this’

Hechuckled. God, he loved her so much.

‘Asyou wish, princess.’

*****

There! Hope you enjoyed it and don’t hesitate to send more requests. It helps me flex my writer muscless ;)

#frosted nature #jackfrostxemilyjanepitchiner #Jack Frost #emily jane pitchiner #rise of the guardians #ROTG

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natsuxlucyfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Operation Get the Girl Chapter 11

Oh my goodness, I haven’t posted a chapter to OGTG in so long, I’m pretty sure y’all have forgotten about it already lol. Here it is, hope you enjoy!

About three weeks passed. The change in Natsu's life was phenomenal. Gray was more hostile towards him, unlike ever before. Yes, they would always get into fights and bicker, but never with serious intent. As they've gotten older, the motive had gotten less petty and more hateful. Natsu, being competitive in nature, fought back with all his might. Everyone in the guild noticed how intense their sporadic brawls have gotten, but no one said a word, blaming it on hormones and teenage masculinity. Master Makarov decided to cancel the S Class Tournament for reasons unknown. Erza seemed to never be at the guild anymore.

His relationship with Leela deepened. He got to know her better, and his whole view on her completely changed. Denying that he had feelings for her would be pointless. But were those feelings love? Questionable. He only felt like he liked her when he was with her. Nothing was set in stone. Everything confused Natsu, which pissed him off. He just wanted to know what was going on for a minute. Instead, he was always the dull idiot. So there he was in the same spot at the bar, drinking with Cana.

“I like this Natsu. The one that can stomach alcohol. You’re a good boy,” Cana hooted while pinching his cheeks. Natsu chose to down his drink instead of acknowledging her comment. He motioned for Mira to get another.

“What’s troubling you?” Mira asked before pouring his drink.

“Just thinking.”

“It’s hard to think when you’re inebriated,” Mira teased. “Besides, you never actually answered my question.”

Natsu sighed before beginning his rant. He cracked his knuckles, which was becoming a nervous habit. “So I love Lucy and Leela likes me and I like Leela too and Lucy wants to strengthen our friendship and I claimed that I didn’t love Lucy anymore and Gray is being a pissy little bi-”

“Slow down,” Mira interrupted. “All your words are slurring together. So you’re caught in a love triangle, and one side of it is unrequited. Lucy wants to be friends again. Gray not liking you is no news to me, or anyone for that matter.”

“Everything shifts so fast and I can’t keep up. I’m not smart like all of them, I need things to be black and white. This whole gray area pisses me off,” Natsu droned between swigs. “Mira, I think someone’s poisoned my drink. My head is spinning and my stomach is screaming. Do you wanna hear it?” Natsu hurdled over the bar effortlessly, but failed the landing. He stumbled until he eventually fell. Mirajane’s sniggers were overpowered by Cana’s guffaws.

“That’s enough alcohol for you, kid,” Mirajane spoke, grabbing Natsu’s hand to help him up. He didn’t budge, so she gave up.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Mira,” Natsu whined. “I’m a big boy.”

Cana drank the rest of Natsu’s alcohol. “You see why I like alcohol, Mira? It’s a miracle worker. One second Natsu is an angsty teen, the other he’s a childish clown. Get me another shot, on him.”

“On it,” Mira affirmed. Just when she thought it was all over, she saw a certain someone walk through the guild doors. “Uh oh. Look who just walked in,” she said with a sing-song tone. Cana spun around to find Leela, searching for her darling, heavily intoxicated boyfriend.

“Oh this just keeps getting better and better,” Cana reveled. “I’ll celebrate with two more shots, both on Natsu.”

“We both know he’s broke, Cana.”

“Exactly, a little bit more debt wouldn’t even be noticeable.” Like always, Cana shrugged it off. Sometimes it annoyed Mira, but at other times it was nice to have someone who took things lightly.

Leela’s heels thumped against the floor. She walked with purpose straight to the bar. “Hey, have you seen Natsu? It’s urgent.”

“Afraid I haven’t, sorry dear. Good luck on finding him,” Mira replied.

“What do mean, Lisanna? I’m right here,” Natsu countered. He managed to pull himself up on his own, greeting Leela with a smile reeking of alcohol.

“That’s Mirajane, you’ve known her for forever. What were you doing on the floor? And why do you smell like alcohol?” Her tone got more and more aggressive by the second. With her hands on her hips and brows furrowed, she was an intimidating figure, for a non-mage.

“It’s a really funny story actually,” Natsu began, “I got drunk.” He smiled, thinking that everything was fine and resolved.

“You told me you didn’t drink!” She shrieked, regardless of all the people surrounding them. But it was Fairy Tail, where everyone was too busy getting drunk or in fights themselves.

“You were never specific about what. I drink alcohol on the occasion. I don’t drink pomegranate-craisin juice, that stuff’s nasty. Who had the idea of putting it together like honestly? Not a fan.”

Leela threw her hands in the air and scoffed, eyes wide in disbelief. “Wow, not only am I dating a deceitful liar, he’s also a pitiful alcoholic.” She cried out. “You know, I promised myself I would never date an alcoholic or a druggie. You freaking tricked me into it. Our relationship was going well,” she admitted through tears, “and it’s such a shame, because I really liked you.”

“It’s over!” She bellowed on her way out. Everyone watched her storm away, then quickly returned to their own business.

Natsu sobered up a little. “Well, that makes it easier,” he said nonchalantly while pouring himself a drink.

“That’s it?” Mira queried.

“Yep,” he responded, popping the p.

“But she just broke up with you, and you said you liked her.” Mirajane was incredulous. Was Natsu just too drunk to care or was he legitimately not phased by being dumped by Leela.

“Yeah I liked her but she never had my heart, so how could she break it? Lucy does a better job at making me cry. Pass the salt.” She did as he asked, and watched in horror as he poured it into his drink.

“I should be a barista.”

“No, you really shouldn’t,” Cana and Mira replied in sync. Mira continued to laugh at Natsu’s silly drunken antics, but her heart wasn’t in it.

For the rest of the day, Natsu’s words stuck with her. “…she never had my heart, so how could she break it? Lucy does a better job at making me cry.” They rung in her head, really making her think. Was it her fault that Natsu has dealt with and gotten used to heartbreak?

If I didn’t encourage him all those years ago to chase after Lucy, then he would’ve been way over her by now. Maybe if I just gave him some helpful words of moving on, he wouldn’t have a drinking problem. Though stupid, he’s sensitive when it comes to romance. Scratch that, when it comes to romance with Lucy. It’s all my fault.

I have to fix this.

****************

Two days later, Natsu was greeted at his front door by Gray with an extremely friendly punch to the face, note the sarcasm. "You broke Leela's heart!" Gray roared, face red with anger. Ice assembled on his fist, and he came at Natsu again. This time, the fire mage was able to dodge.

"Dude, what the heck? And not on purpose!"

"That makes it sooo much better. You're digging your own grave, Dragneel," Gray sneered, conjuring more ice. Natsu reciprocated the love by setting his fists and arms ablaze. Before either could move, they were stopped by Lucy.

"This is why I came along, to prevent any situations like this. Stop acting like children." She rolled her eyes, making herself at home in Natsu's cozy house. She spent many hours there in the past, and the place used to be her second home. Now she felt like a stranger. The thought saddened her.

"Sit down, and don't make a mess or start a fight. I already don't clean this place, I don't need it getting worse." His guests obeyed, one rather reluctantly.

"You lied to Leela. You broke her heart! She loves you, Natsu. She was willing to put up with all of your stupid problems, and you threw that all away."

Natsu shifted. “I’m sorry, okay? The entire relationship was a mistake, it’s over now. If I can get over it, you can too.”

“Get it through your thick skull!” Gray exploded. He stood up and pointed at Natsu, restraining himself from attacking him. “She loves you!”

“And whose fault is that?” Natsu stood up barked with equal anger. “I’m not the one who used her for my own schemes!”

“Watch your mouth,” Gray threatened. Panic surged through him; Lucy couldn’t know of his past plans.

“What’s he talking about, Gray?” She asked with an hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“Oh, that’s right, you were keeping it a secret from her,” Natsu smirked. “Well I think it’s time Lucy learned the truth, don’t you agree?”

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judedeluca · 6 years

Text

Titans: Cakes and Confessions (RoyXDonna)

I’ve been trying to type something for #royharperbdayweek for the last few days, but I’ve been artblocked. I finally busted my ass and spent most of last night working on something I felt comfortable enough to finally post on here.

This takes place in a post-Rise of Arsenal, post-New 52, and post-Rebirth world where the DCU has started gaining a semblance of their real lives back after getting free of Dr. Manhattan’s brainwashing. It involves Roy, Lian, and Donna dealing with some emotions left over following Lian’s death and what Donna went through in Blackest Night.

There’s mention of Donna’s kids and Lian’s baby brother, and some chubby!Roy stuff.

Really hoping to hear some thoughts and inputs on this since I don’t normally write fan fics as long as this in one sitting.

It was a nice looking jack-o'-lantern. Not an angry or scary looking one, but not a silly, dopey-looking one either. Lian wanted to feel proud, but she had to get a second opinion. "Does it look okay, Donna?" Lian Harper asked her surrogate aunt, Donna Troy, as Donna finished cleaning the bowls and cups they'd just used. Donna wiped her hands on a dish towel before joining Lian's side. On the kitchen table there was a triple layer cake, covered in rich chocolate icing. Lian had just finished decorating the top of the cake with orange, green, and yellow butter cream frosting to make a pumpkin face. It smiled up at the young and younger women. "It looks wonderful, Lian." Donna said, patting Lian's back. "But it does look like a pumpkin, right?" Lian was unsure as she looked into her aunt's eyes. "You're not just saying that?" "You won't be getting false praise from me, honey." Donna commented, then kissed Lian on the top of her head. That made Lian believe Donna was speaking true. "I bet Daddy will love it." Lian mentioned. "I hope he does too." Donna added, as they had spent most of the afternoon baking the cake for Lian's father Roy, while also keeping an eye on Lian's baby brother Tommy. This weekend, Donna's ex-husband (Terry or Jerry or whatever his name is) had custody of their son Robbie and her stepdaughter Jennifer. So Donna convinced Roy to let her watch Lian and Tommy for the afternoon feeling he'd been doing a lot lately and could use some time to himself. It was entirely transparent she wanted time with Lian to do something for Roy while he was out of the house, but no one said anything. Tommy had just been fed and put down for a nap while Lian iced and decorated the cake. She insisted on doing it by herself to prove she could. "Well we both love all the other cakes and stuff you've been bringing over." Lian reminded Donna. "But thanks for letting me help with this." "It was my pleasure having you as a baking partner." Donna hugged the young girl. "I'm gonna go check on Tommy." But before Donna could leave the kitchen, Lian had a question she wanted to ask. A question that had been on her mind for a while. "Donna?" "Yes, Lian?" Donna stopped and turned to face Lian again. "Is everything okay?" Lian asked, a look of concern on her face. "Huh?" The question sort of caught Donna by surprise before Lian began talking. "You've been coming over a lot lately," Lian explained, "And I know you and Daddy aren't together-I mean, 'Together' together anymore. Are you alright?" "Don't worry about me, honey. I'm fine." Donna smiled. But Lian wasn't fully convinced. "Is it cuz of all that stuff that happened when I… you know." "No, Lian." Donna replied. "Well, how come you're over so much?" Lian continued. "Do you want me to stop coming over?" Donna asked. "No! I love having you over. And so does Daddy and I'm sure Tommy does as well if he could talk." Lian emphasized. Donna laughed a little before she spoke. "I just liking spending time with you guys, and I like cooking for you guys." Donna explained. "I'll say." Lian smirked, thinking about all the homemade sweets and stuff Donna had been leaving for Roy at their house, and at Titans Tower, and at Donna's place. Her dad especially seemed to really like them. And it was starting to show. "I'm gonna go check on your brother before your dad gets home. Okay?" Donna smiled at Lian. "Okay." Lian smiled back. But as Donna left the room, Lian's smile faded and the look of concern returned. She wasn't convinced at all. … "I'm home!" Roy called out from the front door. "Any wild and crazy parties or dead bodies better be taken care of by the time I step over the threshold!" He held two big bags of groceries in his arms, and one plastic bag containing takeout hanging around his wrist, as he entered the house when Lian came running out of the living room. "Daddy!" She threw her arms around her dad's waist and squeezed. "Etai Yazi!" Roy called back, which was Navajo for "Little Girl." "Gimme a sec," he said as he tried to place the reusable bags down on the side table in the hallway. He then kneeled down to Lian's level and gave her a big hug and kiss on her cheek. "Missed you." "Missed you more." Lian replied, kissing Roy's scruffy cheek. "And you didn't burn the house down while I was gone." Roy whistled. "I'm impressed." "Well I can be trusted not to burn the house down. Unlike some people." Lian folded her arms and gave her dad a pretend angry glare, referring to a certain incident Roy had while Lian was… away. "True, true. You're certainly more trustworthy than I am." Roy conceded as he stood up. "We all know you're the responsible one, though I don't know where you get it from." "Oh and, guess what?" Lian asked. "What?" "Boop." Lian poked at his belly button, sticking out after his shirt came untucked. "Hey!" Roy shooed her off as he tucked his shirt back in. "Well it's your own fault for getting fat." Lian smugly informed him. "I know, I know," Roy smirked. "I'm gross." "Nah, you're not." Lian hugged her dad again. "Whatdja do while we were here?" Lian asked. "I took care of some stuff at Titans Tower, then I did some shopping. No big deal." "Come look what me and Donna did while you were out!" Lian began to pull her dad into the kitchen, bumping into Donna who was coming out of the first floor bathroom. "Hi Mr. Speedy." Donna said as she hugged Roy. "Hi Ms. Wonder Girl." Roy replied. "You guys have fun?" "Always." "Surprise!" Lian practically shoved the cake in Roy's face. "You guys made this together?" Roy asked as Donna took the cake from Lian. "Does it look good?" Lian asked. "It looks great!" Roy messed up Lian's hair before turning his attention to Donna again. "But what's the occasion?" Donna shrugged, acting like it was no big deal. "No occasion, just wanted to do something nice while you had the day to yourself." Was the convenient explanation she gave. "I did the icing myself, and I put the pumpkin on it since it's almost Halloween." Lian revealed. "It's chocolate and spice." "I really don't know what I did to deserve you two." Roy kissed Lian on the cheek and then Donna. "You're spoiling me." "I can put these away if you wanna check in on Tommy." Donna offered as she set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. "It's cool, I can do it." Roy reached over, but Donna playfully slapped his hand away. "No no, go see Tommy." Donna insisted. "He wasn't any trouble today, was he?" Roy asked. "Not at all." "I'll go with you, Daddy." Lian joined her father. The two Harpers headed upstairs to where Tommy Harper, nee Blake, the youngest member of the family slept. Roy quietly opened the door and stuck his head inside to see Lian's baby brother sleeping soundly in his crib. "I hate leaving him alone." Roy sighed as he closed the door. "It's cool dad, we had fun with Donna." Lian explained. "But, um…" Roy saw the look on Lian's face and knew what she was referring to. "She didn't tell you what was wrong, did she." Roy guessed. Lian sighed. "No." Lian shook her head. "But she's sad about something, Daddy. I saw it when I asked her what was wrong. It was like when you used to tell me you were okay, even though you weren't." "Damn it." Roy muttered to himself. "I'm sorry." Lian apologized. "It's okay, peanut. You didn't do anything wrong." Roy reassured her. For the last couple of months, Donna had been acting strange. But then it had been a strange couple of years for a variety of reasons and they were only just returning to a semblance of their old lives. Their REAL lives. Probably the strangest things had been how Roy was brainwashed into thinking Jason Todd was his best friend, and Donna had been replaced by a doppelganger who then gave her life to save Donna. With Roy and Donna back on the Titans with their friends Dick, Wally, and Garth, things felt real for the first time in a long time, even before the world had been gutted inside out. It was like someone had engineered a string of tragedies to make them as miserable as possible before killing them. Now they were all alive and healthy, and so were their kids and loved ones. Yet Donna had started becoming… not clingy, but, was motherly the right word? Overeager? It seemed that way to Roy and Lian, and to a lesser extent Tommy. Admittedly, he was a new addition to the Harper household after Roy learned of his existence and rescued him from Tommy and Lian's mom a few months ago. Donna seemed to worry a lot if Roy was eating enough, and had been showering father and daughter Harper in a variety of baked snacks and treats. Cakes, cookies, pies, even these delectable pomegranate pastries Donna learned of from her sister Diana. Roy was certainly enjoying them more than Lian was, since Donna saw more of the older Harper than the younger one. If he had to stay late at the Tower, she had food ready for a late night snack. If he was arriving early in the morning, there was breakfast in case he skipped the meal. It certainly explained how Roy had put on such a significant amount of weight and developed a noticeable belly on his large archer frame. Roy could sense SOMEthing was bothering Donna, as this type of behavior was new. Oh sure, Donna had long doted on Lian as if she was her daughter. But baking and preparing meals hadn't really been something she was interested in. Roy and Lian weren't ungrateful, but they wanted to know what the problem was. He kept trying to ask her if she wanted to talk, but she smiled and said she was fine. The way she said it, Roy could recognize a slight trace of sadness. Then she'd hurry off to do something else, a mission or monitor duty or something with her sister Diana and the Amazons. Lian recognized it too, but she was always a perceptive child and probably noticed before Roy did. They began to feel guilty that Donna was doing all this for them and asking for nothing. Maybe they were imagining things and she was trying to be friendly. But maybe not. That was why Roy had caved in so easily when Donna suggested he take a day for himself and let her watch the kids. He'd agreed with Lian that she would try to ask Donna what was on her mind without him in the vicinity. "What are we gonna do, daddy? I hate seeing her like this." Lian admitted. "I should've gotten Dick and the others to help," Roy said more to himself, "but I didn't want to put her on the spot in front of everyone." "But she hasn't been acting weird with them, right?" Lian asked. "It's just us, for some reason." "Yeah…" Roy furrowed his brow, trying to think. … Downstairs in the kitchen, Donna had finished putting away the rest of the food in the fridge when Roy tapped her on the shoulder. "What'd you pick up for dinner?" Donna turned and asked him. "I got some chicken and rice with plantains from this place near the supermarket." Roy explained. "But hey, before we eat…" "Yes?" Roy sighed. "Donna, I want you to please tell me what's wrong." Roy asked his teammate and best friend. "You sound just like Lian a little while ago." Donna laughed. "You guys worry too much. Can't I do something nice for one of my best friends and his daughter? Is that so strange?" "No, but I mean," Roy scratched the back of his head as he tried to come up with the right words. He should've been direct to begin with, but feared he was over thinking things. He trusted Lian's judgment, though. "I remember you don't like it when everyone expects you to act like their mom. So Lian and I, we were both wondering if you're really okay doing all this. The baking, cooking." "Roy-" Donna was about to begin before Roy cut her off. "Hey, I'm not complaining or anything. Aside that I'm gonna need some bigger clothes, of course." Roy smiled and patted his new belly. "I appreciate all the stuff you've done and how you're trying to look out for me and my kids. But I feel like I'm taking advantage of you, and that isn't even the main thing I'm worried about. Donna, Lian and I both think something's going on with you. Please, if something's wrong I wanna help. We both do." Donna wasn't sure what to say, Roy's green eyes locked on her blue ones. "Please? Tell me what's wrong?" Donna hesitated and looked away from Roy and Lian. She scratched her arm. "It's… it's silly, really." There was a little tremble in Donna's voice. "Well look, why don't we eat dinner first, and then you can tell the two of us what's on your mind over that cake you and Lian made. Promise?" … Donna wasn't sure whether or not to look forward to the talk after dinner, which was something of an event when Tommy absolutely refused to eat unless Donna was the one to feed him. Roy had barely eaten anything as he struggled to get his stepson to budge a little on the subject of mashed carrots. Lian was happy to get dinner AND a show, until Tommy swatted his food in Lian's direction. After Tommy finally settled down, had his bath, and was told a Navajo legend to get to sleep, Roy, Donna, and Lian sat in the living room with coffee and cake (and milk for Lian since she didn't need the caffeine AND sugar). Roy sat in the middle of the couch with Donna and Lian flanking him on both sides. "So, tell us what's bothering you, Donna." Roy got straight to the point. "Am I gonna have another baby brother, Daddy?" Lian wondered. "Is that why you're so unhappy Donna?" Donna practically choked on her cake. "Ahaha! No, Lian, nothing like that." Donna assured Lian. "I figured," Lian sighed, pinching her dad's side. "But I was hoping he was eating for two." "Hey now-!" Roy almost dropped his plate as he squirmed. "It's cool daddy, I like you better this way." Lian giggled. "You make the best pillow when we stay up late watching movies and you're a lot happier than you were before." "True. So thanks for that, Donna." The three of them set everything down on the coffee table before they began to really talk. Donna looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, as Roy and Lian aimed their attention solely on her. "I know my behavior has been bizarre lately-" Donna started. "I wouldn't call it 'bizarre'-" Roy added. "But with all the ridiculousness of the past few years and how badly things went for all of us," Donna began to list the horrible things everyone went through, "Prometheus, the Black Lanterns, the Villains for Hire, and then the time Barry Allen and Dr. Manhattan stole from us, I've been feeling… I-I guess I'd call it regret." "Regret?" Roy was confused, wondering what she was referring to, "For what?" Donna looked at Lian before she spoke again. "Lian," Donna felt uncomfortable just remembering what happened, "You know about what happened after you…" "Died?" Lian finished. Roy and Donna both winced. Her death. One of the most painful moments of Roy's life. A senseless accident that was a harbinger for what felt like an eternity of unhappiness for both the Harpers and their extended family. "Um. Yeah. I-I do." Lian reluctantly confirmed. "The last time your dad and I spoke before things got really bad, at your, um," God Donna hated everything right now, "Funeral. It wasn't great." "I know about that too." Lian revealed rather somberly. She knew about the awful things her father had screamed at Donna regarding the deaths of her own children. How he'd accused her of "Whoring in space" with Kyle Rayner while her son died in a car crash. Which absolutely wasn't true, by the way. "Looking back on it, I've felt, yes, what your dad said to me was really out of line, but I shouldn't have let that stop me from trying to help." Donna was now referring to how almost everyone in Roy's life had completely, utterly failed at trying to help him deal with Lian's death. Even with how aggressive he'd turned in the most recent days after Lian died, the lack of empathy most of Roy's friends had given was astonishing. It hurt worse because it turned out more had been going on than everyone assumed, which they would've noticed had they really paid attention to Roy's behavior. "Donna-" "No. Please let me get this off my chest." Donna stood and seated herself in a chair away from Roy and Lian, so she could get a better look at them as she spoke. "I've been wondering about if maybe, if I'd tried harder to reach out to you Roy, when you started slipping, then maybe things wouldn't have reached the point they did. I've seen how much you've worked towards making it up to Lian, and how hard you've been trying with Tommy. I feel like if I'd been more help back then, you wouldn't have needed to work so hard now." "I didn't 'slip,' Donna," Roy firmly told her, owning up to his actions, "I did drugs, called you a whore, tried to kill Dick and Mia, and joined Deathstroke's fake Titans because I was angry and using Lian as an excuse to justify all the crap I pulled." "I'm not trying to absolve you of the stuff you did Roy-" "He's been doing his best for me and Tommy!" Lian interjected, almost pleaded, to Donna, to immediately make her feel better and end this unbearable moment. "And I help with Tommy too! Plus I already forgave him for all that, a-and he apologized to Uncle Dick and Mia, anyway!" "It's alright, Etai Yazi." Roy tried to soothe her. "I'm sorry, is what I'm trying to say. I didn't do enough to help after Lian died. When Robbie and Jen passed away, I-I don't even want to get into some of the stuff that went through my head. You wanna believe part of me hated you, Roy? Because you still had Lian and I barely saw Robbie at that point after the divorce? I should've been more forgiving after that argument." "And so you've been worrying so much lately, doing all that cooking and baking…?" "I wanted to do something more tangible to show I care and that I wanted to make up for it." Donna finally admitted. "I've been trying to pay attention. It's easy to say stuff about doing everything I can to help, but I figured this was the best way to show it." Roy and Lian looked at each other and then looked at Donna. "Well, I've been trying." Donna sighed and sank back in the chair. No one said anything for a minute that seemed to last hours, before Roy stood up. "Donna, can you stand up please?" Roy extended his hand towards her. "Huh?" "Come on, up and at 'em." Roy said. As Donna took Roy's hand, he pulled her into a tight embrace as Lian stood behind Donna and placed her hands around her waist." "Listen Wonder Chick," Roy began, "you've got nothing to be sorry about and nothing to apologize for. I heard about what happened with the Black Lanterns, and you'd have been totally justified for taking my head off after what I said." Roy referred to the nightmarish ordeal where Donna encountered a zombified version of son, whom she tried to kill in order to stop. It didn't work, and what she did continued to haunt Donna even though Robbie was alive again. "Yeah, I would have and he's my dad." Lian agreed. "Even before I found out, I didn't blame you for anything. You didn't do anything wrong. It's not right for you to blame yourself when you needed help too after what you went through. And I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to make it up to us." Donna wasn't sure what to say. "Come on, I hate seeing so unhappy. What can I do to make you feel better?" "Yeah, what can WE do?" Lian corrected. Donna relaxed, and smiled. Roy and Lian let go and she sighed, a sigh of relief instead of unhappiness. There'd been too much sighing today. "For starters, next weekend you can make breakfast for me, Robbie, and Jen when she visits." Donna joked, then sniffed and wiped away a tear from her eye. "And then the six of us, Tommy included, can spend the afternoon baking at the Tower." Donna mused. "Snickerdoodles, peanut?" Roy conspired with Lian, taking Donna totally seriously. "Roy I'm ki-" "How about something with macadamia nuts?" Lian wondered. "No good, Jen's allergic to nuts." Roy surprised Donna by mentioning that since she wasn't aware he knew of her children's allergies. "Okay then snickerdoodles!" Lian declared. "Does that help?" Roy asked Donna, mock pouting with puppy dog eyes. "Snickerdoodles?" "You're both such dorks." Donna held his hand. "Well, DUH." Both Harpers said. "Besides, I'm the Titan who's supposed to be constantly ashamed of themselves." Roy joked. "It's kind of my whole shtick, in case you hadn't noticed." "Yeah, stop stealing my dad's shtick!" Lian ordered. "It's all he has going for him. It's bad enough you made him fat!" "Yeah, it's bad enough you made me fat!" Roy parroted his daughter. That was too much for Donna and she started to laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

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mollymauk-teafleak · 6 years

Text

Dog Park AU

Okay so! For my darling @childofdustandashes because we were both far too impatient to wait until it’s valentines day for both of us so we’re making the most of our time zone madness to get even MORE VALENTINE’S DAY!

But yeah, I love you baby girl and I will write a big mushy post about you tomorrow tomorrow when I’m a little more coherent. Love you!

Theo Burr was a very high stress person by nature. It ran in her family, if her father, with his daily hours formulaically chipping away at the ever-growing mountain of paperwork in his office that she made sure to periodically check hadn’t fallen on him and put him in desperate need of rescue, were anything to go by. And she couldn’t say it didn’t have its uses, it had gotten her through high school, through college, through law school and put her in the positon she currently was now- confidently facing the bar exam this summer with an actual hope in hell of passing and a shining career just like her father all neatly laid out for her, like a road map she just had to follow determinedly.

But it was in those very few and far between moments, where she found herself completely relaxed and free of worry, that she realised what a burden it actually was sometimes. She knew she didn’t truly want to, couldn’t really want to on some very basic and fundamental level of her mind, but Theo couldn’t help thinking longingly of her brief oases of calm, daydreaming of curling up in them and living there forever, never having to return home and pick up all the burdens she carried.

But no, that wasn’t the kind of person she was. And Theo knew what kind of person she was and she was proud of it; it had taken a lot to reach that point it and she wouldn’t give it up easily.

Still, she smiled and sighed in satisfaction on that pleasantly chilly October morning, as she stood on the threshold of another pause, another brief moment of peace. She could always sense them coming, she knew exactly the conditions, the situation she needed to set up to make one happen and as such she could engineer them into her schedule as tightly and efficiently as she did everything else.

All she needed to do to get there was exactly what she did that morning, to the letter. Theo woke late, when the morning sun was already filtering in from under her curtains, a little thin and washed out with the oncoming winter sapping it, but all the same. She enjoyed the warmth of her thick, down comforter (Theo believed in being frugal in most parts of her life but never, ever skimped on her bedsheets), reading the paper in bed, filling in the crossword, recording the time she completed it in so she could proudly text it to her father and see if she’d managed to beat his time. She had last Sunday, for the first time since they’d started doing this when she was fourteen, and she was eager for another taste of victory with her morning coffee. The coffee was a ritual in itself, made with her extra special, uber expensive, strictly-saved-for-the-weekend beans, cream and two sugars, drank at the window seat of her small studio apartment as the news played in the background, as she surveyed the street below, never failing to get a sense of calm. Theo always felt part of something when she’d rest against the window and watch the people going past, all with their own senses of purpose and place, fuelling her own even though she couldn’t even see their faces.

Maybe that young man was going to fetch breakfast for his pregnant wife. Maybe that mother was on her way to pick up her daughter from dance class. Maybe this was that couples second date, so much potential and promise hanging in the air between them. Maybe that group of young women were old college friends and hadn’t seen each other in years but were spending a weekend in the city together. All these possibilities would make Theo smile.

Full and awake and content, she bathed and dressed, taking her sweet time in the shower, using her favourite shower gel, the one that smelled of full, rose skinned apples and pomegranate seeds heavy and pregnant with red, tart juice. She would wash her hair thoroughly, singing along to her music as she did so, even dancing a little, turning and swinging her hips for her imaginary audience, hitting high notes and belting without a care in the world. She then lounged in her towel for a while, reading magazines on her bed and performing a little more carefree choreography through her bedroom before drying her hair, massaging a little coconut oil into it. She took care with her clothes too, this being one of the few days she didn’t have to resolutely stick to her uniform of pantsuits and neat skirts and pressed blouses. She ended up with a long skirt in a bright, bold pattern, as bright and bold as she felt, her nana had brought it back from Barcelona for her. A crop top went on too, she’d be cold but fuck it, she looked too damn good not to show off a little, just for herself. Some sacrifices were worth making. Kicks, not her best ones but her old, worn favourites, hair in twin buns, bold lipstick and she was done.

Now for the hard part.

Theo strode over to the basket under the table in her kitchen, knowing that’s where he’d be, even though she had been awake for hours.

She hunkered down, grinning brightly, “What kind of guard dog are you, lazy bones?”

Titus gave a whine in response, hefting one huge, tawny paw over his eyes, like he thought that would save him from being woken up. Like he suddenly became invisible to her if he did that.

“Nice try,” Theo snorted, reaching in and ruffling his thick mane of fur, “Up, up, up! Time for walks!”

That magic word had him. He made his resentment clear through huffs and whimpers but he eased himself out of his basket all the same, tail managing to wag for her, eyes managing to brighten as he hopped up, forepaws on her knee, for his good morning hug.

Titus had originally been intended as a guard dog, a house warming present from her father, given with the express promise that he would keep a young lady living in downtown New York all on her lonesome the protection and security she desperately needed. It ended up being a bit of a running joke in their family. Titus was big, there was no denying that, he was actually bigger than most other German Shepherds, but he also happened to be the world’s biggest wuss, preferring to use his huge bulk to hug rather than for any safekeeping purpose. He jumped when leaves blew past him on the sidewalk and taxis honked as they passed by. He hid behind Theo’s legs if a cat happened to appear, bolting from an alleyway as they walked past. He would whine and fuss mercilessly if his lady happened to leave his sight for more than five seconds, even if she’d just ducked into a store for an ice cream which she would, of course, give him the cone from. All in all, he didn’t really fulfil the role Aaron had had in mind when he gave him to his daughter.

But Theo adored him all the same. And he adored her right back.

She hummed brightly to herself as she tied his usual red bandana around his neck and slipped him into the harness she’d got for him back when he was still a puppy and way too small to fit in it (“He needs to feel big like the other dogs, dad!”). She put on her headphones, show tunes turned up, and together, both full of optimism and fortitude that only comes with a good morning well spent, they set out for Central Park.

Theo had a smile on her face a mile wide as she bounced on her heels along the path, head swaying in time with the music in her ears, making her buns waggle with perfect timing. Titus ploughed on ahead of her, as if clearing the path and making sure no threats lay ahead of his mistress for him to jump at and get scared by and need cuddles. A blanket of leaves that looked as if they’d been moulded and shaped from copper itself littered the path ahead of them, rustling under four paws and two sneakers as if in quiet conversation. Squirrels skittered from branch to branch just over their heads, ink drop eyes glittering curiously, and birds broke the constant clear blue of the sky with their arrowhead silhouettes, probably flying off to somewhere much warmer than New York city in the middle of autumn. The season didn’t come without its gifts, though; there were bright lavender and yellow bursts of crocuses along the path. Theo saw them and gave a slightly melancholy smile. They made her think of her mother, having been her favourite flowers, but it was a good memory. Not a twist of a knife, just a dull ache from doing work she was happy to do. She made a mental note to buy some from a florist, half to go on her mama’s grave and the rest to fill a glass vase on her kitchen table. Knowing they would see the same colours, smell the same delicate scents, brought Theo comfort, as if her mama had bought the flowers for her rather than the other way around. It was kind of a hangover from something her father had told her when she was younger, just after she’d died. He’d told her that Mama sent the crocuses up in Central Park just for Theo, so she’d know she wasn’t really gone and was always watching over her baby girl. At twelve, Theo had been a little too old to believe that story even then, but she appreciated the effort and would always associate those proud, regal blooms, like tiny paper crowns made by a careful, loving, attentive hand, with her mama.

Titus took her a little off the main track through the park, he liked the thickets best, they came with the opportunity to stick his long snout into a bush or too and find some interesting smells or a nice smooth stone he could present to his mistress as a gift. Theo whistled pleasantly to herself as some good old fashioned soul music kicked in through her headphones, gearing herself up to get lost in Aretha Franklin’s feather-boa-rattling voice.

That was what distracted her.

She didn’t even hear Titus’ yelp as the blur of black and white and grey barrelled into him and knocked him off his paws completely, sending him sprawling in the dirt at the side of the path. Which, of course, as Theo was holding the end of his leash, she got to go sprawling right along with him.

“What the-?” she managed to exclaim just before the surprise of no longer being vertical and suddenly rolling (thankfully harmlessly and painlessly) onto damp and unpleasant grass took her breath away.

It dislodged her earbuds too so she managed to hear her Titus whining and wailing in distress, as well as a new, much more fierce, much more energetic yapping that belonged to the black and white and grey blur, still a blur as whatever it was when it wasn’t going five hundred miles an hour zig zagged this way and that over the poor, downed Titus.

“Hey! Get off him!” Theo demanded, not able to do anything more than make her threat before her lap was taken up with nearly 88 pounds of dog as Titus hid in her arms.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” another new sound cut over the pandemonium, “Othello’s only little, he’s not got the hang of making friends yet. Othello, down boy!”

A lot of thoughts were running through Theo’s mind at that point, very quickly, but the one that got to her mouth was this.

“What kind of name is Othello?”

“Huh?” the owner of the voice, a nearly impossibly tall young man, about her age and with face covered in more freckles than Theo thought could exist on a human person, blinked in confusion.

“Uh, sorry,” Theo felt her face flush, she hadn’t wanted to sound so incredulous. Though, really, she had every right to be, seeing as she was sat in the mud thanks to this guy.

The man caught the blur in both arms, hauling it up and suddenly, it manifested as a very small, very hairy dog, panting, scrabbling his paws in the air and looking very disgruntled at having his game interrupted.

“I really am sorry about that,” the guy said again, looking embarrassed as he held out one hand to help Theo up, “He slipped his collar and got away from me back there, I had to chase him through the whole park…”

“I’m not surprised,” Theo said breathlessly, accepting the offer of help after she managed to convince Titus to get off, “I’m not sure they even make dog collars that small…”

Fortunately, he laughed at that, “Yeah, he’s kind of a runt. Fast though. Big personality.”

“Yeah,” Theo brushed down her skirt, “Yeah, I got a taste of that personality…”

The kid flushed red, biting his lip guiltily, “I am sorry. You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Nah,” Theo shook her head, recentering her braids, “Titus might have some emotional damage, though.”

He winced and addressed the cowering German Shepherd behind her legs, “Sorry, buddy. He doesn’t mean any harm, I swear, he’s just got a lot of energy.”

That much was obvious, Othello- if that really was the thing’s name- was squirming and wriggling so furiously in the guy’s arms, Theo was genuinely impressed he was holding on so effortlessly.

“He’s not that dented up, really,” Theo said quickly, not wanting to come off like she was criticising, “He’s just a wuss. A big old furry wuss.”

Titus whined, as if in indignance, though he soured his argument a little by diving back behind Theo’s legs when Othello gave a growl.

“Behave!” he snapped, patting his dog’s head, “Stop being a meanie!”

“Maybe he’s mad cos some doofus named him Othello,” Theo muttered, a little louder than she’d intended. She cursed herself, god damn her big mouth…

But the guy only laughed again, a nice sound, one he clearly used often.

“I’m a literary nerd, what can I say?” he grinned hugely, “I’m hoping he grows into it.”

Theo blushed a little, smiling back, “Did you just get him?”

“Is it that obvious?” he chuckled, “Yeah, I got him from the pound the other week, we’re still, ah…establishing who’s the alpha in the situation…”

“Well…best of luck with it,” Theo smiled, wanting to leave this particular exchange before she embarrassed herself any further, or before Othello escaped his owner’s arms and Titus had a heart attack.

“Hey, um, do you…do you have somewhere to be?” the guy blinked, “I mean, the least I owe you after that mess is a coffee?”

“A…oh…” Theo’s blush was back with a vengeance.

“If that’s okay, I mean?” he smiled, that same hundred kilowatts smile that outshone even this harsh, autumn sun, “Although, god, what am I even doing, I haven’t even asked your name…”

“Theo Burr,” she interrupted him gently, “And a coffee sounds great.”

“Theo,” he repeated, eyes brightening, finally letting Othello slip from his arms, letting him land in a heap at his feet where he thankfully stayed.

“I’m Philip Hamilton.”

#philtheo #dog park au #fluff #puppies #puppies and fluff #all for you my love #bailey

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