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writermask-0807 · 1 year

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT PART THREE - TEACHER GAKUHO X STUDENT READER

A/n: Hellooooo peoplesss. Writermask is back from the dead! Anyways, I'm finally finished with Forbidden Fruit, and once again, my sincerest of apologies for bad content, but do know that I try my best. I think I'll be lucky if I manage to get even one like to this post, cus I wrote it wayyyy too detailed and I'm pretty sure it's boring... I did try to fix it, and here we are. Hope you enjoy!

Keys: {} for his most prominent thoughts.

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, OOC Gakuho, cringe writing, (blame my sleep-deprived ass), and most words will be reused, since my vocabulary is painfully short, and English is my second language. Also, a lot here will not make complete sense, and sorta violent Gakuho???

Anyways, enough of my crap. Enjoy!

PERHAPS, at times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, Gakuho thought idly, lazily twirling the accursed picture between his long, slender digits, rich pools of dark hyacinth drenched with the distant, hazy mists of memories, as he disinterestedly studied the photograph flicking between the gaps of his nimble fingers.

Because earlier that evening, he had barely managed to compose himself at the sight of you, his precious darling, with the glassy glaze of unshed tears brimming thickly in your lustrous e/c hues, as they had swirled with a kaleidoscope of vivid, vibrant colors, rich with a wealth of emotions that unknowingly displayed the inner battle you'd been torn between, the boiling turmoil that he knew was tormenting your soul, coming in the bitter form of the hot, scalding tears forming in your eyes, the glitter of the salty remnants clinging insistently to your long lashes as they fluttered slowly, trying to blink the tears away, and he'd watched, half mesmerized and helpless, brain malfunctioning for a few short seconds, as the pearlescent liquid soaked the delicate porcelain of your reddened cheeks.

You'd looked so innocent then, doe eyes enlarged with the hot, stinging swell of unshed tears, your dainty palms curled around his much broader shoulders for support as you'd collapsed against him, petite, crumpled up form trembling with quaking tremors as you'd shuddered against him, the h/c shaded tips of your hair sticking out haphazardly at odd angles, your bottom lip, pink and dewy and irresistible, wobbling with a barely restrained sob, which he knew was clamping your throat, as shudders licked vehemently at your tender, supple flesh, so vulnerable and delicate, this fragile, fragile doll of a meek, timid girl, all pretty eyes and red lips, blanching flesh and ivory, unblemished complexion, crafted by the most flawless of porcelains, as though sculpted by the hands of Gods, and bred by forgotten deities.

And yet, you'd reeked of unbridled sorrow and misery, that reflected in a sharp flash of that aching, aching hurt that flickered painfully in your glimmering orbs of e/c, as you'd stolen a frightened glance at his impassive facade, and he'd felt guilt ram into him with the wrecking force of a freight train, the sweltering tip of a white-hot rod twisting his insides with a sharp feeling that left him slightly breathless, and in silent bafflement at the sheer amount of roaring emotion he felt, an ache he felt deep in the rattle of his bones, a resounding difference that made him feel as though something inside of him crumbled at the sight of your unwarranted despair.

Guilt pulled at his heartstrings, plucking at the delicate cords of his sanity and twisting and writhing a different sort of hurt within him, one that was foreign in his psyche, but agonizing nonetheless, the painful, albeit bizarre sensation feeling as though someone were sifting a roiling, pulsating mass of what felt like shards of broken glass beneath his flesh, making knots form in the pit of his stomach, rare anxiety twisting them with twinges of nauseating unease, and the guilt ate him alive, slowly but surely, gnawing at the frayed seams of his patience. Guilt at knowing he'd smeared your purity, staining what'd once been the very essence of innocence with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wake, colored your empty canvas with the morbid, dark shades of his own existence, had taken advantage of your naivety.

{And yet, there was that dark, dark part of him that did not regret anything, a fragment of his twisted, bitter soul that, despite the harsh consequences of dappling in the forbidden, and tasting your ripe, untouched innocence and tainting it for himself, that yearned for more, more…}

And yet, despite all superior pretences and sophisticated masquerades, in the end, he was still unfortunately human, and he was selfish, and addicted to the sugary sweetness in his bitter life that was you. And if he were an anchor for you to remain rooted, you were his salvation, the flicker of hope and the spark of light in the eternal, everlasting darkness his unfortunate existence was doused within.

So, resolve steeling with a rekindled firmness, he'd coiled his arms around your slim waist wordlessly, movements almost mechanical and stiff with abrupt shock, controlled by mere muscle memory and absent will, as his mind reeled at the sight of your beautiful, tear-stained face -{your pained expression had been so raw, so painful to behold and the odd coil of emotion inside his chest tightened, making it hard for him to breathe, and he'd felt cold fury coursing poisonously through his bloodstream, surging like molten lava and threatening to explode. No-one had the audacity harm you, his precious darling, no-one, damnit-!}-, as he'd pressed you tighter against him, steadying your quivering, small form against his larger frame, a broad palm coming to rest at the rigid column of your spine as he'd coaxed you into his firm, but gentle embrace, magenta hues glittering garnet with the heavy promise of impending doom, that he would definitely, and swiftly deliver mercilessly when he would deal with that yellow-hued menace.

{How could it have gone wrong? How could it all have gone to waste, all of his careful planning, all of his efforts rendered useless… How did it all unravel at the hands of someone as- as despicable as him? How did it still end up hurting you?!} And then, a more quiet, melancholy voice chiming in, {Despite all of his wealth and power and intellect, how did he fail to protect you…?} But he knew the answer, felt it deep within the rattle of his bones, and the ache in his thudding heart. {Because he was selfish, because of his terrible craving for your ripe, untasted innocence, and he knew it had been his fault, his fault for staining your untouched, fragile perfection, for tilting your world and painting your reality in a film of darkness. And yet, he was still unwilling to let you go, to have mercy and rid you of his dark presence. But then, it would have hurt him more than you. Indeed, he truly was selfsh, and undeserving of you, an angel in the cruel purgatory he suffered.}

"It isn't your fault. It was never your fault." He'd murmured with a firm finality, voice low and raw as he allowed a thin stream, a fraction of his raging emotions to seep into his velvety tone as he'd assured you, sultry and private and only for you to hear as he'd pressed himself closer to you, arms wound securely around your petite, frail form, breathing in the naturally sweet fragrance you secreted, alllowing the chorus of his drumming heartbeat and fluttering pulse to mingle with yours, as you'd exchanged soft, warm breaths. It wasn't your fault, because he knew it was his.

But he was selfish, and he would continue to keep you close to his aching heart.

And he'd marveled at the fact that you reciprocated his selfish desires with a burning need of your own, the thin nails of your fingers biting sharply into the bone of his shoulder blades as your arms curled tighter around his torso, face, still wet with the shimmer of tears, buried into the crook of his neck as you rested your weary head on his shoulder, mind undoubtedly clouded by a haze, and despite the occasional hitch in your stuttering breath, and sniffle catching in your throat, you'd allowed him to soothe your tears, lull your withering despair away, even after all the torture you'd soldiered through because of him, like the brave, brave girl you were. And despite everything, you'd remained happy and content nestled in his arms and swaddled in his scent, and it baffled him, baffled him just how willing you were to offer yourself up to him despite crumbling away, bit by bit, just how eager you were to please, to expose even the most intimate, personal values you held dear to your heart, show vulnerability when he could so easily twist it and turn it against you, dig blades under your flesh and watch you bleed.

But, for some incomprehensible reason, he chose to kiss instead, lips gently grazing across your soft, alabaster skin in a tender, loving reward, watching the heat bloom in a delicate dusting of crimson across your cheeks and crawling down your neck, and the shimmer of relief glistening wet and bright in your luminous eyes.

And then the air had shifted, and unspoken vows had been exchanged with your breathless gasps, and his deep, calming inhales as his mouth met yours, fervent but gentle, delicate and promising, and filled with so many emotions and words that he couldn't quite decipher. The words had streamed soundless and silent, threading unsaid in the atmosphere, hovering slight on your quivering mouth, and his sharp, silver tongue, and though Gakuho knew that neither of you were quite ready to share the words that would bind you both to a proper relationship from this awkward, abstract situation-ship you were hopelessly tangled within, he'd mouthed the shape of a soft, intimate promise against your tender flesh as he'd kissed you in silent reverence, voice inaudible even to his own ears, more of an oath to himself than you- to never let you be hurt ever again, and he intended to fulfill it.

So yes, at specific times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, as it had been his saving grace, for he'd nearly lost his glacial composure, Gakuho thought, and his jaw clenched at the memory of your e/c orbs glimmering with the delicate coating of tears, soaking your cheeks wet, and the whirl of insecurity and fear and despair he spied within those lustrous, glittering irises.

It had elicted a reaction unexpected from both you and himself, his mouth thinning into a wan, grim line, the sharp slope of his sharp, charming features painted cold with a stinging, forced indifference, bereft of any emotions, a slight twitch marring his furrowed brow, faux calm aura melting into something more sinister, murderous in its stiflingly dark presence even, an unpleasant sensation of scorching beginning to bubble inside his chest, hands clenching into tight fists as the sharp edges of his nails sunk into the flat of his palm, threatening to draw blood, the soft hyacinth of his eyes slowly bleeding into swirls of wrathful crimson and scarlet, spinning with the deepening shade of freshly split blood.

It had stirred an emotion within the deepest core of his very being, the incomprehensible simmer of raw anger pulsing beneath his marble, collected facade, a feeling he'd long since considered futile, the familiar but forgotten surge of molten lava coursing violently through his veins, the coil of anger twisting his guts and boiling his insides with a bloodlust he could not satiate, a roaring, aching hunger scalding his throat with the bitter, bleeding taste of unadulterated fury as it gnawed restlessly at his frayed nerves, rage, an ugly beast rearing it's head, talons digging into the shuddering arch of his spine, making his shoulders quake with barely restrained tremors, though they were from burning anger rather than the despair that reflected from your face.

But despite the abstract whirl of emotions shifting a roiling, contorting storm of twisting turmoil within him, festering restlessly like a plague, and feasting on his frayed nerves, and the bitter remembrance of once cherished memories and the absence of a precious person -{Ikeda, Ikeda, Ikeda, you were still a child, only a child, a child… so why did you do it? Why did you leave, why would you hurt me like this-?!}- the sight of your tears had brought him, and in spite of the yawning rift of anger tearing the fabric of his soul apart, Gakuho lifted the deep, glimmering wine of his gaze to meet the the sight of the yellow-tinted creature before him with a faux, deadly calm that he did not feel.

"Ah, Koro-sensei, how nice of you to finally show up."

He addressed the creature coolly, unfazed by the strong gust of wind that accompanied its sudden presence, the fierce gale rattling the bare insides of his bleak, colorlessly cordial office, as it whipped the brushes of ember-hued hair with a harsh, invisible force. The scalding rage that flooded his mind tightened its grasp upon the sight of the original perpetrator whom he'd stemmed back from all the rumors and photographs, the reason for this hopelessly tangled mess, and your precious, unwarranted tears. The unadulterated fury coiling and snaking around his ribs constricted his stuttering breath at this harsh reminder, and the wild thumping of his frantic, angry heart palpitated stubbornly underneath his ribs, cold fury simmering violently underneath the flawless marble of his flesh, as he felt his boiling wrath pulsing like the undiluted, steady flow of poisonous power through his veins, itching and crawling like the scuttle of insects beneath his skin, a power begging to be released and wrought for ruination and destruction.

Once he'd realized that he'd allowed a trickle of stiflingly dark hostility to stream through the false, composed aura surrounding him, Gakuho hastened to guard his reaction, quickly smoothing out the scathing expression to a blank mask, regaining his bearings. It wouldn't do him well to lose his cool so early on.

However, it didn't mean that he couldn't control it, sharpen and harness it, aim to kill, and the odd, almost feral glint that this sudden dark thought elicited from him glittering uncloaked, and molten garnet in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his rival.

It was with this intention that he spoke, voice as smooth and deceptively unperturbed as always, a honeyed, sultry caress of dark velvet tumbling off of soft lips, sunny tones sounding warm and perhaps even touched by a tinge of invitation, but it was only a well-constructed, honey-coated lie spilling forth from his mouth like the richest of wines, a sickly sweet venom laced with stinging mockery dripping from cold, twisted lips. And though his voice gave nothing away, there was a certain frigidness to his eyes that did not meet his false smile and cheerful tones. Gakuho knew that the creature had detected the sharp, cold accusing undertone coloring his faux cheery voice, poised taut and more than ready to stab and poison, but as polite as always, it didn't let it show, the usually stupid, wide smile stretching from its yellow, bulbous head, showing the rows of pearly white teeth, a thoughtless grin smearing and stretching the yellow flesh taut, as though its head was full of candy and rainbows, utterly remorseless and shamelessly so.

{As though it held no inkling whatsoever to the hurt it caused you, the pain and the chaos it inflicted and injected within your innocent mind, the ache and the world-weariness that clung onto your withering bones, the ghost of the tears that'd pooled in your eyes, the anxiety and the pain and the despair, as though your feelings hadn't mattered at all-!}

It irked him beyond reason, and Gakuho couldn't quite snuff the annoyed twitch marring his brow despite the sickeningly sweet saccharine of the unwavering, false smile twisting his lips.

"My sincerest of apologies, Chairman. I was caught up in a new assassina - " It began with the stirrings of a new excuse, but he interjected calmly, amethyst hues bleeding with the dusty brilliance of the shifting cosmos, painfully sharp and glinting calculatively in the light of the weeping dusk, tone colored with a dark, cold undertone, as he coated the sentence in a carefully constructed rich, baritone timbre, a deliberate bitterness souring each and every word that fell effortlessly from cold, curved lips, dripping acid enough to melt and sear and burn.

"As much as I would love to hear about Class E's most recent efforts on your assassination, I'm afraid I have summoned you here for another reason entirely, Koro-sensei."

Lifting the photograph he'd been absentmindedly flicking earlier between the gaps of his fingers, Gakuho leveled the creature with a blank, scorching stare that would make hell freeze over, with a smile so sickly sweet that it felt bitter plastered on his curled mouth, unadulterated poison gleaming sharp in his piercing gaze as he looked expectantly at the creature, the violet glare of his cosmic-tinted irises glittering molten carmine with the cold, murderous glow of the plaguing rage festering deep within him, and with his head tilted precariously, allowing the light of the dying sun to illuminate one side of his sloped face, drenching the other with a velvety darkness, Gakuho knew he must've looked unhinged, because he saw it recoil a bit, flinching, embarrassment staining a rosy pink to the yellow of its flesh.

"It has come to my attention that a certain person has been spreading rumors about myself and a student, going so far as leaking false photographs… You wouldn't happen to know anyone who is the original perpetrator, yes?" He inquired quietly, voice deceptively calm and soft, but there was a certain frosty chill to his tone that rippled with a silent, compelling authority, as he pinned the creature in place with a frigid, scalding stare that was not quite hostile- not yet anyway, but neither was it very calm. In a way, Gakuho mused, he held a vague semblance dimly reminiscent to glass, because there was a certain layer of fragility to his patience, and it could could break at any given moment.

{But that's the thing with glass. You break it, and you're the one that's bleeding.}

Gakuho assessed the creature with a sharp, almost feral glint burning in the darkening muave of his blood-drenched, moon-kissed eyes, the column of his spine arched rigid, and the sturdy, broad planes of his shoulders hunched taut and tense, posture poised with a deadly elegance, as though he were a predator ready to strike at any given moment, as the yellow-skinned creature recoiled a step back, wincing as his twisted barb hit the nail on the head, and rubbing two of its tentacles together in a sheepish manner as a slight coating of delicate primrose dusted the sunny tone of its skin.

His smile sharpened and tugged taut at his mouth and clenched jaw.

"N-no! Why would you think that?! It's not like I spied on you two on that romantically forbidden evening and took photos and spread them all around the school, and saved extra copies just in case and gossiped with other students while in disguise-...!" It rambled on senselessly, stuttering and stumbling over words, so painfully obvious, apparently paired with the inability to lie, and had Gakuho been another insignificant person in another circumstance, he would've burst out laughing, except he wasn't and knew better, for he didn't find your current predicament a laughing matter, or one to be amusement inducing.

Instead, there was a barely veiled glance of skepticism, and the surge of incredulity, before the familiar upsurge of thinly jaded anger invading through his senses.

The hot simmer of pulsing rage quickened beneath his glacial facade, and Gakuho felt the hairline cracks spidering the surface of his marble mask beginning to deepen, a twisted sensation of murderous wrath worming in through the dark crevices, poisoning his senses and clouding his vision an angry red. The tendrils of poisonous, cold fury creeping through his veins stifled his senses with the sheer intensity of its fierce, white-hot power, twisting and scraping his insides like a red-hot rod, wrenching and churning his gut, squeezing his racing heart with the sharp bite of its clawed talons, each gaunt digit of explosive fury digging deeper into the wild, pounding organ, threatening to make it burst from his contricted chest.

Instead of displaying this surprising myriad of emotions, however, Gakuho simply hummed a noncommittal sound, curling his nimble digits around the photograph, studying the scene playing within it (his lips pressed against yours, an arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer, and your eyes, shining bright with the kaleidoscopic glitter of surprise) disinteredly before crumpling it into a ball.

"Is that so?" Gakuho crooned softly, sarcasm lacing every rich, ambrosia dipped word as they rolled off of his sharp tongue, venomous and ready to stab and twist the bleeding wound for good measure, sugar-coated lies spilling easily from honeyed lips, though they were strangely hollow, and flat. The thread, the delicate gossamer string quilting his fraying patience together, was beginning to waver and threatening to snap, and he turned cold. And as Gakuho raised the frigid, uncaring carmine of his gaze to meet the creature's, cosmic-lidded hues exotic and cold in their magnificent, violet glory, their gazes clashed and collided with enough intensity to produce sparks.

Steepling and threading his fingers together in a calculative gesture, he casually leaned back into the lavish fabric of the chair, though his muscles stretched taut upon his wary bones, refusing to relax in the presence of a being that he knew was intelligent (just stubborn and perhaps even smart enough not to show its sharp intellect), marble mask guarded and unrelenting, as though he were a serpent, coiled and fast and cunning, ready to spring and strike at any given moment, fangs dripping with venom.

Gakuho stared at the creature with a purely predatorial knife edge to his vermilion gaze, honed sharp by the ripple of thick tension charging the air with the violent presence of electricity, his eyes blood-drenched rubies dripping with rich, liquid sangria, as he clashed gazes with the yellow menace, whirling with lost swirls of buried, gentle hyacinth, and the faint glitter of stardust as something dark, and terribly dangerous flickered behind the frame of his lashes.

He stared vehemently, gaze blade-edged and challenging, and this time, the mellow-skinned creature stared back, perhaps even a tad defiantly as it met his gaze head on, no longer drooping and shriveling underneath the chilly frost of his blank stare like a wilting flower, and he absently noted that the pink hue of embarrassment had receded its sunny skin.

No words were exchanged in the heavy, deafening silence that ensued, and both parties refused to acknowledge the killing intent rolling off of him in crushing, nauseating waves of pure, unfiltered darkness, crackling the atmosphere frigid and stifling it with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wakr. The clear, heavy threat of impending doom descended on the pregnant silence like a vulture to carcass, indescribably hungry and intent upon feasting.

A battle without words, though just as fierce, between two formidable rivals.

There was a heavy, stifling silence that would've knocked the breath out of a lesser mortal's lungs, laced with the poisonous, violent presence of killing intent rolling through the thickening tension, and then, a gentle knife buttering through, persuasive but bracing, - "I can't say I can tell you who is responsible for Y/N's plight, " The creature began carefully, thoughtfully, even, "but I do have a question, regarding the… rumors, if you will. "

"Oh? Do elaborate." Gakuho curtly prompted it to continue, arching a sleek, perfectly manicured brow in question, slowly urging the roiling, sifting mass of darkness to thin, a certain layer of velvet interest veiling his tone, and this time, it was genuine.

"I do not mean to imply anything of the sort, but, do you by any chance," It tilted its bulbous head curiously, and for all the chaos and hell it thought would follow next, its voice was gentle, and soft as it spoke. "Care for Y/N?"

This time, Gakuho truly couldn't mask the ripple of shock crossing his aristocratic, sharp features and widening his plum hues with a distinct surprise at the unexpectance of its genuine question, unconsciously allowing a plethora of emotions to paint the empty canvas of his marble mask, before forcefully schooling his expression into that same emotionless, blank state once more. Ignoring the turmoil wreaking havoc within his mindscape, he weighed the importance of the sudden question imposed on him, guarding and planning his next action carefully.

But despite his rigid frame, the hunched shoulders and the frown dipping the corners of his lips, he knew he hadn't mistaken the sincerity of this genuine, curious inquiry, and he wondered whether or not to answer truthfully, to forgo the anger and the pent-up frustration, to face the creature with the sting of honesty.

And then, the image of your bright smile flickered into existence within his mindscape, the relieving freshness of your bubbly, meek personality, and the simple beauty of your somehow carefree yet timid, shy smile quirking the corners of your plump lips, the chime of melodious bells that accompanied your laughter, the h/c tufts of your rich hair dancing with the cool breeze, the fragments of your innocence, untainted and tempting, and the shimmer of that incomprehensible, tender emotion that flitted in your rich pools of e/c, and the soft, gentle gaze you blessed him with… and then the memory intertwined fingers, whispered promises, a mingled heartbeat beating as one - love, and Gakuho suddenly came to a grinding halt, an unsure decision somehow firm in its sincere honesty.

The words he'd not yet said to you, always hovering on the tip of the tongue, the shape of the intimate promise he'd whispered against your flesh, the tender press of his mouth against yours, the salt of your tears somehow sweet on his lips…

The solemn, magenta gleam of his eyes softened to a warm shimmer in a raw finality, as he raised his head to meet the creature's gaze, the harsh and hollow expression he wore fading into a soft, unconsciously gentle smile tilting his lips as Gakuho finally admitted, as he said in soft, reverent utterance, "I do."

And somehow, Gakuho felt as though such simple, yet meaningful words had made all the difference, and the victory marring the mellow-skinned creature and stretching its mouth into a satisfied grin was unmistakable.

He had planned this, Gakuho's mind echoed with a dawning realization, and before he could say anything else, Koro-sensei spoke first, interjecting. "I see. If it alleviates your worries, Chairman, I shall take care to erase the photographs and such," He turned his head back to face Gakuho's bewildered, questioning gaze, before finishing his sentence with a broad smile, flashing the rows of milky white teeth. "After all, it seems we both care deeply about our students. You more than me, it seems." He added cheekily before disappearing in another strong gust of wind, once again rattling the bare insides of his domain.

He heaved an incredulous sigh, before leaning back in the chair, but despite everything, he couldn't help the small, content smile tugging persistently the corners of his mouth.

"Forbidden fruit perhaps does taste the best, after all."

#reader x gakuho asano #idk how to tag this shi #gakuho asano x reader #assassination classroom #angst with a fluffy ending?#Gakuho x you #Gakuho x y/n #Teacher Gakuho x student reader

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jikookuntold · 2 years

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https://www.instagram.com/p/CjRakOmInfm/?igshid=NDRkN2NkYzU=

hello do you know whether this pic is real or not ? I heard 2 versions. First it's leaked from Jimin's fathers kakao. Second was they are cosplayers. Both seems to be possible lol. 2 people does wear same outfits as Jikook but then the brands they use can be bought by anyone. Also the heights are exact the same but we know Jimin is shorter than JK. And It feels like something is off near the arms area and person is too thin to be JK and the only part of face we can see doesn't look like JK too. But then I heard Karmy confirmed the pic and it's real which they were gatekeeping.

This is an old topic, and we closed this case the day the photo started to spread because it was an unverified picture, and whether it was Jikook or not, we weren't allowed to share it. But, since you are curious, I will give you my opinion. It's hard to confirm if this is Jikook in the picture, because of the low quality, but none of the proof that "Debunkers" (who were much more interested in this photo than any Jikooker) brought to debunk this photo, made any sense. I'm familiar with the concept of cosplaying, cosplayers remake a scene with an entire outfit copied from a character or celebrity in a specific location. If I were a cosplayer and wanted to cosplay Jikook with my partner, I wouldn't use a hat from JK's 190112 outfit with a jacket from his 190118 outfit, and then my partner wouldn't wear a Jacket from an entirely different year. Then we should have to choose a place that Jikook have seen there together before, not some random glimmering heart. These cosplayers sounded very dedicated because they were wearing outfits that cost thousands of dollars to "look like Jikook", but they didn't know the first rule of cosplaying. Hilarious! It's true that Jikookers emphasize and even exaggerate Jikook's height difference, but Jimin is only 2 inches shorter than JK. The height difference we see in their photos depends on many things, for example, their shoes, hats, hairstyle, the way they stand, and even the camera angle.

About them looking like JK and Jimin or not, I said that the quality is not clear enough to judge (but if you find JK's nose in the photo, you will see that it looks exactly like him). Anyways, I believe even if this photo was 4k, still so many people would deny it, I'm speaking from the experience I gained in the last few months If you know what I mean. And yes, many K-jikookers admitted that they were gatekeeping this photo for years, and in fact, they were mad at the person who leaked this to piss off taekookers. JK's father's kakaotalk, Jimin's father's Instagram, or what other things the rumors say, doesn't matter. This case is closed and no one is talking about it. But let me ask you something. The way you worded your "question" implies that you are already sure about it being fake, and I barely see any Jikooker using this as proof or anything. Then why do you even bother asking questions about it? Are you scared of it being real?

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thegendertoy · 7 days

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I can only nod at your reassurance, lulled by the sound of your voice, so eager to please you. The glittering casino is so different now, so perfect in all its chrome angles and colorful lights. I want it all for myself, every glimmer. I want to feel it in my beak, hide it all away. I stop to stare upwards at a chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, all gold and crystal, scattering light in beautiful color across the walls. My feathers rustle, my wings twitch. I'm starstruck for a brief few seconds, only keeping my beak closed to hold the coin.

And then I feel your hand slip under my tail, a finger penetrating my soaked pussy. Instantly, a sound halfway between a moan and a caw escapes my beak, then stops short. My gaze turns to you, flustered and mortified, as you pull me along. The sound I made was distinctly human-like, like a bird mimicking the sound, but the cawing? That was new, a sound I didn't know I could make, but one of the only I now can. It is going to take practice before I can use this beak to vocalize like a human again.

I finally fold my wings behind me as we make our way across the casino floor to the elevators. I am beginning to grow accustomed to this new body, to the way my claws grip the carpet and curl with every step, to the way I lean forward rather than sway my arms to keep balance. It is all becoming eerily comfortable. Most of all, your touch. Every grope, every caress between my feathers, and especially every time your fingers slip inside feels like heaven. I could stay here forever, kept by you, nestled amid all this. The thought does not even occur to me that I might someday wish to leave.

In the elevator, I finally see my new form in the mirrored walls. It feels so perfect, such a precious raven boy. Exactly as Ms. Toy wanted. It is hard for me to even picture what I might have looked like before. Certainly not as beautiful as this. I click my beak against the glass, just barely, and you sink your finger into my wet hole, directing my attention away. My sex squeezes your finger, greedy for more before you pull it out.

And then we arrive at the room. My eyes widen at the sheer size of it, at the art dangling from the ceiling. I could just reach out and grab it! And my hoard of chips, displayed across the foot of the bed, triggers yet more warm pleasure to wash over me in relief. I eye every empty surface, eager to fill them with anything that shines.

A low caw answers your question, then another as I wander across the room, peeking through the other archway into the bathroom before I meet your gaze, my tail ruffling with excitement. My pleased, clicking vocalizations echo off the walls.

That's excellent hun, I was hoping you'd think so. Maybe when I bring on the next trial boys, you'll get to share a room with them, only if you want. I know you also may want to keep your chips to yourself, on the other hand. I'll let you decide when that time but for now, it's time for another perk of your card, hun~

I lock the door and make my way to your bed, slowing taking off everything besides my necklace, earrings, and underwear. You notice with that now the sweet smell is back, and with your heightened sense it's much stronger than before. Not overwhelming, but almost... intoxicating. Laying down on your bed, I beckon you over with another golden coin.

I won't deny, I've gotten personal with a few non-card holders before. But for the ones I do have, it's a guarantee that they can get up close and personal with me whenever they so please. That's why this floor has only the living quarters for you adorable pets of mine, and me~

Of course, I am at liberty to deny them, but let's not talk legalese right now. Come over here, and be a good little raven for me and earn another coin~

Flipping the coin in my hand, you can see every refraction of light as it jumps into the air before landing, and I flip it again. And again. And again. And again. With my other hand I absentmindedly fiddle with my panties, it's always so exciting to break in a new kind of client.

#casino toy #Q #transformation kink #tf kink #anon ask

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thejolteonmastertj · 3 years

Text

Ranking Of Kings is amazing and there’s a million things I want to say about it..

but I wanna start with this heckin scene.

That scene.

WHY,

But like,

in a good way.

You see, we don’t actually know much about Diada’s feelings toward his brother, well, aside from, y’know, the fact that he’s willing to harm and even kill him if doing so is necessary for his ambitions. Eheh.

That sounds straightforward, but the other characters, even other characters who’ve done great harm to Bojji, Domas tried to legit kill him, have become complex enough to indicate we don’t have the full story on Daida either.

Daida has technically said exactly two lines directly toward his brother, “I won’t go easy brother,” & in frustration he shouted out “this isn’t fair brother!” when Bojji kept dodging his attacks.

He has also said exactly two lines betraying any semblence of feelings toward his brother, good or bad (discounting thoughts of what to do about him as a potential threat, which are oddly impersonal for your typical fictional character with family issues)

Once was to Queen Hailing, it’s easy to dismiss his “but I think that would make my brother miserable,” as manipulating the queen into putting Bojji into a vulnerable position. It probably indeed had that ultereor motive.

Then there’s that scene. His outburst towards Domas made NO SENSE, but like, in a good way. Like You’ve Just opened up a puzzle box.

The fact that pretty much every main character close to Bojji has gotten their big flashback development scene except Daida is the most obvious clue that the show’s holding out on something.

Re-watching early episodes helps you fully realize how much ambiguity there is about Daida and Bojji’s relationship.

So, let’s take those cues and overanalyze the f*ck outta this scene.

Ok, so first of all, it’s hella smart for Daida to identify Domas’s decision as a red flag. He’s rightly upset about that on a personal level and strategic level because as King he now has to work with someone he views as untrustworthy.

Yet, anger, pure unadulterated rage was not expeced. The sheer intensity in Daida’s emotions raises a big question. Why?

He threw a f*cking vase at Domas for crying out loud.

The thing is I can’t come up with a reasonable tactical reason for Daida to say any of this to Domas. If he was yelling at him in hopes it would frighten him into obeying his order to kill Bojji, the angle he took could’ve easily backfired. So there’s definitely an alternative reading when combined with knowledge from episodes 5-6.

We got two, very brief, contextless flashbacks. Depicting Bojji either crying or slacking off while Daida was working hard. We also see a dream sequence where a younger looking Daida is terrified, watching his “last glimmer of hope” aka older brother lose a fight.

He wakes up from the dream and immediately demands the mirror to help him become more powerful, all but outright saying he’s terrified of the fact that his weak brother is all he can count on, he’s desperate to become stronger to protect himself.

Combined with the brief flashback to what must be one of Bojji’s few moments of slacking,

really makes you wonder how much Daida’s “ambition” is really just a slightly aged manifestation of lifelong fear.

Perhaps he’s held onto some bitterness in his heart, on how quickly he (feels) he’s been forced into a position of power. The fact that the adults around him are so ready to push him onto the throne that they’d stoop to betrayal struck an old wound.

Emphasis on the old wound part, because he acts like he’s fully accepted his supposed destiny as king. There’s a chance this old wound may be opened again given his desire to “believe in my own potential,” being violently denied by the mirror that’s manipulating him.

On the topic of old wounds and conflicting feelings... there’s also this thing his teacher said. 🤔

Anyways, that’s one reading. It’s also possible that he simply ‘cares about his brother secretly uwu’ & that’s why the betrayal struck a nerve, but that’d be boring. 😂

It’s possible he was just manipulating Domas too, though that’d be boring for different reasons. 🤣

Welp, we’ll see how the nuances turn out.

In general Daida’s already starting to remind me of Azula from Avatar The Last Airbender.

Yet while ATLA waited until the very end to make her complexity known, Ranking Of Kings is making its buildup more clear, & starting way earlier... that has me hyped asf.

I LOVED the concept of Azula’s predicament, and loved her as a character, but was always disappointed in the lack of reasonably apparent emotional nuance and of/c how her tragedy was kind of tacked onto the ending of ATLA.

Daida & Bojji struggling to survive being put into positions of power in what seems to be a brutal world far too young (even Daida admits like ‘yo, mirror, I’m still young, chill’ obv not in those words but) is an overarching conflict I’m loving so far & hyped to see more of.

Oh yeah, full disclaimer, this promo art an artist on the show posted relating to the next episode motivated me to actually write down & post my thoughts. XD Them, happy brothers? At some point in time at least? I knew it.

#ATLA fans & BNHA fans will love it #Ranking Of Kings #Ousama Ranking #ATLA #TJ Overanalysis #Feels good to be back #Azula #anime #prince bojji #Daida #Prince Daida #King Daida #Bojji

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kowaiitenshii · 2 years

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My Mistakes Were Made For You // Ch. 2.5

(( SFW // Cute little switch to Otto’s POV // Start of mutual yearning // reader is AFAB // warnings: none really ))

Previous Chapter:

Dr. Otto Octavius sat in the dimly lit makeshift workspace of pier house 56; orange industrial light filtering through his mess of dark brown curls, giving the edges a hint of an saintly glowing aura.

Diligently he worked away at the outlines of his ever-growing list of plans.

Or…that’s what he had planned to be doing with his evening, anyway.

Instead, he was distractedly sipping away at a glass of room temperature whiskey, enraptured by fleeting images of recent events and his own daydreams.

At the very core of it all, you had made a home for yourself.

He was both full of loathing for you as he had never before been, cursing you for rendering him unable to work, while also being utterly enraptured by you and unwilling to turn his attention away.

Truly, it had been a genuine thrill for Otto to discover your true identity, to realize your potential.

However, he had been unprepared to find that such a striking beauty had been hidden beneath your heroic persona.

When the picture became full, when he had looked into your eyes and truly seen you for the first time, it had lit a violently burning fire within him.

Enlightenment; a warm, fiery sun shining brightly upon him.

That was what it had been for Otto.

It had been an easy conclusion to come to when he realized you could be quite useful.

Depending on the properties of your magic, he had thought, the possibilities of what he could achieve with your assistance were exponential.

All kinds of new curiosities had wormed their ways into his mind, posing countless questions that he was itching for the answers to.

Possibly fueled by their discovery, his actuators had taken an uncanny interest in you.

They had sensed something in you, something unafraid, something… curious.

It baffled him to say the least. He was at a loss for what strange curiosity you had of him; nonetheless he had used it to his advantage when he had decided to propose his offer.

He had expected the fear in your eyes, the gentle quivering of your body when he had broken in.

What he hadn’t expected, was to intrude on you in such little clothing.

You stood there, shock plastered on your face as you clung to the ragged threads of modesty; awkwardly shifting, trying in vain to wrench the towel tighter around your body.

Images of your delicious curvature only just barely covered, barely hidden from his sight flash across the silver screens of the backs of his eyelids.

So close, and yet so far.

Otto sighs heavily.

He couldn’t forget you, they had made sure of that.

His entourage had happily taken in every inch, every available angle of your silhouette.

Remembering your unbridled, slack jawed perplexity at his offer, your complete loss of interest in how you appeared to him, he chuckles softly, darkly to himself.

He wishes he had pulled you onto his lap, held you close to him, peppered your still slick, nearly nude body with wet, open mouthed kisses-

Pinching his brow and sighing again, he downs the rest of his drink in one.

He relishes in the slow burn for a moment, intoxicating heat spreading through his chest, momentarily quieting his mind and softening the throbbing of his heart.

Realistically, he was in bitter denial that you would accept those kinds of advances from him. But sometimes he would catch a glimmer in your eye, a flicker in your expression, that gave him a golden trickle of hope.

It was raining tonight, the weather casting a solemn, contemplative, lonely sort of atmosphere over the city.

He wondered where you were.

Whether you were inside your apartment and safe, cuddled comfortably into your couch with a good book.

Or if you were on the streets right now, out in the storm.

Maybe you could be walking to your apartment. Hopefully with an umbrella shielding your lovely form and executive work attire from the unrelenting rainstorm.

Or perhaps you were out there somewhere trying to be a hero.

His heart knits a suture of worry that he tries to suppress at the very thought.

There’s no telling what you could be getting yourself into out there alone.

The uppermost two of his actuators click and hiss urgently at him, catching his attention and snapping him out of his pensive trance.

Look. Look!

Cocking an eyebrow, he turns to look at what they’re gesturing to.

A (insert your favorite color here) flip-phone. Bright and out of place like a strange tchotchke sitting idly on the desk.

He heart throbs quietly, remembering he had gotten it with the intention to give to you.

A direct line of contact.

And also an excuse to come see you.

He vehemently denies that it’s also partially for your protection, even if the thought of you being harmed by some worthless crook pains him.

They all look out of the windows in perfect synchronization, the moon high in the sky, no clouds covering it’s prideful glow.

He takes a deep breath, chest swelling.

Rising from his seat and grabbing the phone, the actuators slide his trench coat on efficiently and quickly, making their way out of the abandoned pier house.

The night was still young yet.

And he knew exactly who he was going to pay a visit to.

#doc ock #doc ock x reader #dr otto octavius x reader #dr. otto octavius x reader #otto octavius x reader #dr octavius #dr octavius x reader #dr otto octavius #my writing #my mistakes were made for you

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hlizr50 · 3 years

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Gwynriel Week Day 2 - Favorite Headcanon

Bow or Bleed

Read on AO3

-Gwyn-

Gwyn examined herself in the mirror, turning her hips and looking over her shoulder. She was technically covered, but also decidedly not, navy chiffon so dark it was nearly black waterfalled down her legs, the milky skin of her leg exposed by the hip-high opening. The top of the gown had long sleeves and a deep neckline past her breastbone, but it was also sheer – strategically placed beading and applique crept up her stomach and over her breasts. It was certainly the most scandalous thing she’d ever worn.

Azriel had warned her before the meeting with the High Lord, nearly three weeks before. Times were peaceful – something they were all thankful for – but Rhysand wanted to remind the denizens of the Hewn City of the Night Court’s might, introducing the new division of their defenses. Therefore, the three female leaders of the Valkyries were requested. Her mate had kept her hand firmly gripped in his for the duration of the discussion, and that silent support was just one of the many reasons she loved him. So was his deference to her decision. That was something that had been a little more difficult to achieve, the shadowsinger being as protective as he was, particularly where Gwyn was concerned.

They had discussed in depth what she would find in the Court of Nightmares and the expectations that came along with being in attendance in a position of power. And while, in the three years they had been together, they had explored any number of intimate situations and dynamics in the comfort of their private home, it was Azriel who had suggested that Gwyn be regarded as the dominant one of the two.

The inhabitants of the Hewn City know that I am to be feared. And I want them to see the woman who has tamed the infamous spymaster and cower. Not only from a perspective of your safety, but to be perfectly frank it would be incredibly arousing.

She had laughed at that.

And so Azriel and Gwyn had painstakingly discussed every detail, the two of them valuing preparedness and knowledge above all else. Where would they be expected to stand? How were they expected to interact with the rest of the inner circle and the Valkyries? He came with her to dress fittings, discussing how the fabric would move and working with the Valkyrie and the seamstress to ensure she looked tempting enough to draw attention, but covered enough that she wouldn’t be constantly pulling and tugging. They had even come home with a replica of the skirt so they could train together, for the unfortunate possibility that violence might become a necessity.

So here she was, with her chosen sisters, examining herself one last time before their entrance into the Court of Nightmares. When she looked up she found Nesta at her shoulder.

“Ready, Gwyn?” The redhead could see the faint glimmer of concern in her friend’s eyes.

A reassuring grin crinkled the freckles dotting the former priestess’ nose and the corners of her eyes. She trailed her fingers over the hilt of the dark blade sheathed at her thigh, drawing strength from its weight and the lingering power from the hands that wielded it. Gwyn nodded, the copper waterfall of her high ponytail brushing past her ears and cheeks.

“Let’s give them a show,” Emerie quipped with a smirk.

Gwyn regarded the two females that had been at her side, constant support and friendship and love over the past four years. Nesta was a queen in every sense, beautiful and dangerous, with a neckline that dipped even lower than her own. Her gown fit tight against her, black velvet rich and luxurious. She wore her weapon for everyone to see, the sword Ataraxia hanging from the black leather riding her hips. Her leg was also revealed by a near-indecent slit in the midnight cloth, the tightness of the dress pulling the ends apart and baring it for all to see.

And then there was Emerie, who had opted for pants, tailored just right to show off the strength in her legs. Black silk fell loosely from her honey brown shoulders creating lovely drapes over her front and baring her smooth muscled arms. The back of the garment only met at the small of her back, letting all appreciate the ripples and cords of muscle and the incredible wings that marked her as Illyrian.

Emerie smiled wryly, ready to intimidate, but it was Nesta who pushed open the wooden doors with as much force as she could muster. Gwyn was inwardly satisfied at the sound that cut through the cavern. She lifted her chin and fixed her gaze forward toward the raised dais, where the High Lord and Lady sat enthroned in dark power. She would not turn her gaze toward the shadowsinger as they strode in, footfalls synchronized as if they marched into battle. She kept her head lifted, near-arrogant smirk on her wine-painted lips.

But, Mother, could she feelhim. The flicker of power, the gold thread between them taut with heat and tightly coiled desire. Gwyn didn’t dare a glance, but she could feel the burn of his hazel gaze – likely now closer to molten gold – roaming over her.

The three Valkyries stopped at the foot of the dais, Nesta in front with Gwyn and Emerie at her shoulders. When they each fell to one knee before their High Lord and Lady, the copper-haired warrior could feel the cool, moist air prickling the skin of her now-exposed thigh. But she didn’t feel exposed, even with so much less of her covered than she was accustomed to. She didn’t feel weak, even as she bowed in the midst of this infamous court. She was a wholly different person from the quaking priestess that had been rescued from Sangravah, and it was this court that had helped build her up. She was a warrior, a Valkyrie, one of eight Carynthians to ever exist, and now she was a general. And through all that she had become a sister, friend, lover, and mate, and it was those bonds that truly gave her strength.

They rose and turned to face the court, and Gwyn did her best to observe nonchalantly. So many leering stares, expressions of disgust – so many fragile males opposed to the concept of powerful women.

“The Valkyries were legendary in the Great War, and we are pleased that these three females have resurrected their practice and built new ranks.” Rhysand’s voice was rich and dark, like the velvet that clung to Nesta’s skin. “As their skills have improved and their ranks have deepened, the Valkyries have been inducted as an official division of the Night Court defense. Even in times of peace we all know that it is imperative to remain dedicated and prepared. These three females join the ranks of my Inner Circle as generals, and they will be respected as such.” There was a pregnant pause after his statement, the court regarding the three of them, sizing them up. “Any word or action against them will be counted as a word or action against myself or the High Lady. And while all of the denizens of the Hewn City understand how I manage those slights, let them rest assured that these women will exact their own justice.” After one more glower over the crowd the females split apart, turning toward their respective mates.

That’s when she finally laid her eyes on the Spymaster of the Night Court, clothed in black leather and swathed in shadows. The angles and planes of his face, in this dark place, made him impossibly more beautiful. He was an imposing creature when he needed to be, and in the Court of Nightmares he would only be seen as this man of malice – an angel of death.

With near-glowing eyes fixed on her and her alone.

-Azriel-

This plan could have been a grave mistake.

Not because Gwyn wasn’t absolutely breathtaking and fearless, and not because he didn’t believe that any male would think twice before approaching her with the shadowsinger apparently on her leash.

No, this plan was very potentially a mistake because Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to keep himself from swathing them in shadows and ravishing her in the middle of the damned great hall as soon as she was within arm’s reach.

He’d known what the dress would look like on her tall frame – he had accompanied her to consultations and fittings, ensuring that his mate would feel comfortable and safe during this foray into the sinister underbelly of the Night Court. The inspiration for Amarantha’s domain not-so-long ago.

To say that the idea of Gwyn stepping foot in this place had given him pause would be a grievous understatement. His shadows had twirled around his wings in agitation when Rhys had informed him, but he also knew that his mate was not the same girl he had rescued from Sangravah those years ago. He had agreed to let her hear the request and decide for herself what she would do, and he would be happy to do everything in his power to ensure that she was prepared.

The female that faced him now was nothing short of a queen.

Azriel found himself thinking back through the times that he had been rendered breathless by her astonishing beauty – more times than he could count. The first time he’d seen her in the Valkyrie leathers he thought he might have to leave the room, lest he melt into a heap on the floor before her. Their first Starfall together his shadows had frozen around him as he remembered how to breathe, her dress and eyes outsparkling the heavens. The evening of their mating ceremony, where a simple silk shift had sent tendrils of inky mist dancing and had nearly set his soul on fire.

Before him was a warrior, confident and ferocious. And his. Her skin was moonlight against the darkest blue the seamstress could find, curves barely concealed beneath lace and beading that had been expertly placed to toe the line between demure and deadly. Makeup was not something the former priestess indulged in often, but the wine-red that painted her full lips tempted him to lick his own and the kohl lining her teal pools only seemed to set them ablaze. The high ponytail was somewhat unexpected, but it was the sight of the blade strapped to her thigh – so dark it seemed to absorb any light that dared touch it – that had the breeches of his leathers tightening considerably and his twirling shadows thickening.

Truth-teller.

Neither of them needed weapons to be deadly, but that didn’t mean they would venture into the Court of Nightmares unarmed. And there would be no better way to send a message to any who dared covet his mate than for her to brandish the deadly blade that was known throughout the continent.

Gwyn strode toward him, head held high. She had schooled her expressive eyes into cool indifference, something she had likely learned from him, but Azriel could spy a glimmer of mischief. She was enjoying this game, and he was more than content to play it with her. He lowered his chin and dropped to one knee as she approached, and his shadows could hear the whispers of stunned onlookers as the spymaster placed himself firmly beneath the Valkyrie in the hierarchy. A wry grin curled his lips as he watched those exquisitely formed legs come to a halt before him and the hand at her right hip present itself. He kept his gaze fixed on the speckled flesh of her knuckles as he raised his own scarred hand, cobalt siphon flickering, and grasped her fingers before leaning in to reverently press his lips to her knuckles. He could feel the golden warmth of her satisfaction in his chest, sparks of desire intermixed.

When he released her hand it moved to his face, two long elegant fingers landing under his chin and pulling it upward. Lifting his gaze, he found her face alight with fierce confidence.

“Shadowsinger,” she purred, applying more pressure to encourage him to rise before her. Their stares were transfixed in the eyes of the other as he did so, her hand only moving far enough to land in a possessive grip toward the back of his neck. He couldn’t hide the smirk that crawled over his lips, enamored as he was with the predatory confidence that she wore.

“My lady,” he murmured, dipping his chin. “You look absolutely exquisite.” The slightest pink blossomed on her cheeks, proving that she was not completely immune to his charm. She circled him and stepped up behind him onto the first stair to the dais, keeping her palm on is neck. He had to stifle a groan, reveling in her possessive touch and the heat of her at his back between his wings. Her breath snaked across his ear and his skin pebbled, her lips like a phantom touch over the shell of it.

“You are beautiful and dark, as always, love,” Gwyn whispered before dipping her chin and pressing those soft painted lips just below where the sharp line of his jaw met his neck. His breath shuddered and his mate gave a soft giggle. “Your shadows are quite… friendly tonight.”

“Well, lovely general, I can hardly be expected to control them when you make it so difficult for me to even manage myself,” Azriel breathed.

“Hmmm. You do make an excellent point.” She gripped his jaw and pulled it to the side to claim his lips with a bruising kiss. When she released him he nearly drowned in the teal pools that captured his gaze. He could see the challenge there, the desire, the pride. He loved when he could glimpse those things in her expression, when he could put those feelings there. Gods, the way it felt to bow before her, to be the one she trusted to submit to her will. It was a distinct possibility he wouldn’t survive the night.

“I know you have duties, Shadowsinger,” the Valkyrie stated softly, dropping her fingers from his jaw. His permission to leave her side, to stride through the shadows and dark corners of this hall to ensure that members of this court still understood the price of disrespect and the power of fear. He turned, tucking his wings tight to avoid striking her. He meant to look back into those piercing, starlit eyes, but his gaze caught on Truth-teller at her thigh. He lifted a mottled hand and settled his palm over the hilt, letting his callused fingers brush delicately over that tempting sliver of porcelain flesh. Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over the peek of skin just above his thumb.

“Wine, my lady?” He straightened and grinned crookedly at her flushed neck and chest. She dipped her chin in confirmation and he turned, striding into the throng of revelers. Hopefully his High Lord didn’t expect him to listen too closely. It was peacetime, after all, and he had to contend with every delicious image of Gwyn flashing through his mind. Hopefully his shadows would pick up on anything glaring and drag his attention out of the gutter.

He had retrieved two goblets and turned back toward the dais when he felt a twinge of anxiety in his chest, tightening the golden thread that connected the Shadowsinger and the Valkyrie. He weaved quickly in and out of the dark swaths in the hall, his shadows carrying to him the echoes of words between her and a yet-unknown male.

“…quite an actress, priestess…”

Azriel quieted the snarl that threatened to push through his lips as he rounded a pillar silently, finding Gwyn’s back pressed against it and the male – one of the darkbringers, he realized – doing his best to tower over her. He stayed silent, tucked into the darkness. He had vowed not to intervene until it became obvious that she couldn’t handle the situation. And while he had felt the moment of uncertainty in their bond, his mate looked calm and nonchalant – if not a small bit annoyed.

“Although I find it difficult to believe that a timid acolyte from the library sanctuary could best the Spymaster. They say the women in the great library have experienced great horrors, but perhaps if you warm the bed of the angel of death, you’re into that kind of thing.”

The male had lifted a hand to Gwyn’s face, making to touch her. And quick as the wind she had Truth-teller in her hand, blade against a particularly sensitive part of the male who thought he could dare to insinuate what he did, much less dare to touch her. Azriel saw the rage sparkling in her gaze, all traces of anxiety and annoyance gone.

“Think very carefully about the next thing you say,” she hissed. When the male tried to smirk and play it off she pushed the blade the slightest bit deeper, the edge biting into the leather of his pants. “I am a general. I won the Illyrian Blood Rite. I have bested far more intimidating creatures than yourself. So do ask yourself if you want to test your luck.”

Azriel’s lips twisted into a sadistic smile, basking in the glow of his mate’s strength. Her eyes darted to him for a split second, and the male’s eyes followed. The color drained from his face when he saw the rippling shadows twisting and rising like flames over his shoulders and wings. But a push against the dagger at his crotch shifted his attention back to Gwyn.

“Hear me now, brute,” she seethed. “I do not always keep my Shadowsinger so tightly leashed. And he does not take kindly to unimpressive, brainless males touching the female that he belongs to.” My Shadowsinger. The female that he belongs to. Mother above, those words went straight to his already-straining cock. “So I hope that little thrill that pulsed through your undoubtedly underwhelming dick when you thought you could intimidate me and bend me to your desires… I do so hope it was worth it.”

The male stepped away with hands raised, but the copper-haired queen kept her blazing stare on him, dagger still ready in her hand.

“Shadowsinger, I hope you have that wine,” she cooed, sheathing the weapon when Azriel stepped to her side. He offered her the goblet and then offered her an arm, muscles and shadows tremoring from barely contained fury. His instincts warred within him, an urge to rip the male limb from limb against the desire to whisk his mate into an alcove and plunge his tongue between her legs until she was screaming his name. He wasn’t sure if he had ever desired her with such a feral male pride, and from the heat blooming across her chest he could tell that she could feel that pulsing need through their bond. But her breathing was slightly more shallow than normal, and he remembered that nervous twinge he’d felt before she’d nearly castrated the man. The spymaster let them to a darkened corner, shadows swallowing them and hiding them from prying eyes and ears.

“Are you alright, songbird?” All pretense and games were gone, leaving only the soft voice of a protective male concerned for the love of his eternity. He took her wine glass and set both of them on the stone floor. When he straightened he pinned her with his gaze and raised callused fingers to trace the freckles on her cheek. Gwyn sighed a calming breath and leaned into his touch.

“Yes, love. I was nervous for a moment, but I think I handled things quite well,” she smiled widely. He released a dark chuckle of his own, stepping into her and pinning her gently against the wall. Azriel tilted his head and leaned down, pressing his lips against the sensitive space under hear ear. Nipping at it, then flicking his tongue over the spot to soothe it, smiling against her soft flesh as he felt her gasp beneath him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more aroused in my life, Gwyneth Berdara,” he uttered into her neck, voice low and guttural. He pressed his hips against her, letting her feel what she had done to him. “When you called me yours, when you said I belong to you… Gods, nothing has ever been truer.”

Azriel dragged his lips wantonly over her jaw toward her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip when he got there. He was on fire for her, every inch of him aflame with want for his warrior queen. He crushed his lips into hers, tongue beseeching. She gave in without pause, and he greedily pulled at her lips and tongue. He wanted to breathe her in, needed to taste her.

“Azriel,” she gasped, but he continued pouring himself into her, only stopping when her hands cupped his face gently. He pulled back and took in her swollen lips and lust-darkened eyes. “We need to behave, remember?” The shadowsinger groaned, earning a musical laugh from the Valkyrie. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“Fine,” he growled. “But as soon as we get home, rest assured, I will have you. And I want you to keep Truth-teller on that pretty thigh.”

Gwyn’s cheeks turned crimson and his throat rumbled with approval. He pressed a quick, hard kiss into her lips before stepping back, giving her some air to cool the heat on her face. Swiftly, he scooped up their wine goblets and offered his elbow to her.

“Ready to terrorize more unsuspecting males, my lady?” Azriel grinned wickedly, and she threw her head back, a cackle erupting from her throat. She tucked her starkissed hand into the crook of his arm.

“Always, Shadowsinger.” Quickly, before he let his shadows disperse, she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

The bond burned golden fire in his chest, swelling with love and contentment and bliss. “I love you, too, Berdara.” He murmured, and then they were in the throng again, the music and revelry of the Hewn City swallowing them. He let his shadows wander and listen, but his attention was focused on his mate for the remainder of the evening. He marveled at her confidence, her strength, the pride she felt at being able to conquer this moment. Feyre may be his High Lady, but Gwyneth Berdara was his queen. And, if tonight was any indication, he would gladly bow before her for the rest of his immortal life.

#gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel week #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel

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talonwings · 3 years

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Who We Are - Empires SMP writing

a gift for you, empiresblr, courtesy of my now 5 hours of fWhip headcanons. feel free to kill me when you're done. (also sorry i don't yet have an AO3 i can link to, i've been on the wait list foreeevvveerrr).

CW for slight body horror, angst, and i guess suffocation kind of?

“fWhip? Hello? Are you in here?”

He heard the call--how could he not have, when the voice was hers? Still, he did not move, remaining where he slumped against the wall of the underground room. One of the redstone crystals blooming from the stone was jammed against his shoulder blade, but even the pain could not entice him to rise.

“fWhip, come out!” Gem’s voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, a tone he rarely heard from her--well, the frustration he had heard before, but the worry was new. Gem almost never fretted about anything; it was how she had kept him and Sausage so well in line up until now.

“I’m going to come down there!” The threat echoed down the passageway that separated the secret room from the unassuming shopfront above it. “I know where your lair is, it isn’t a secret! Don’t make me come down there!”

“Don’t,” fWhip rasped. “Please.”

Gem either couldn’t or didn’t hear him. “I’m giving you one minute, and then I’m coming down there whether you like it or not!”

“Please,” he tried again, but his voice would not obey him. It petered out almost as soon as it passed his lips. He licked them, swallowed, coughed, tried a third time. “Gem, please, go away.”

This time, it seemed, she did hear, for she answered, “I will not go away! Nobody’s seen you in two weeks, fWhip! We’re worried sick!”

“I’m fine,” he croaked--a lie.

“You don’t sound fine,” she retorted. “I’m coming down.”

He opened his mouth to warn her off again, but the tell-tale sound of the painting door sliding back masked whatever he might have tried to say. Seconds later, her footsteps started up, the familiar click of those heeled purple boots getting ever louder as she marched along the passageway toward his laboratory.

fWhip’s gaze darted around in a panic, searching out anyplace that would be suitable to hide. He hadn’t moved from his current spot in over twelve hours, and his limbs protested as he shoved himself violently to his feet, teetering off-balance from the unfamiliar motion. Finally, he settled on a small cranny near the back of the chamber, and limped over to it, cramming himself inside just as Gem’s footfalls indicated that she had reached the door to the lab itself. He heard her swing it open, and then her voice, much clearer now, softly called, “fWhip? Where are you?”

“Go away,” he replied, hating the stony rasp that he couldn’t seem to get rid of now. “Don’t want to see you.”

“Well, that’s just rude,” she replied. He could imagine the look on her face, and fought against the lump it brought to his throat. He wanted to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, to throw himself into her arms.

“Didn’t ask you to come,” he croaked instead.

“No, actually, Jimmy did,” Gem replied waspishly. “Your enemy. You remember him? The one you stole his most precious possession from? He sent me a message three days ago to tell me he hadn’t seen or heard from you in over a week. Mind you, this was after I’d been questioned by Sausage, Pearl, and Shrub as to why you’ve missed the last two alliance meetings. fWhip, even your enemies are worried about you. Where have you been?”

Oh, if only you knew. His mouth twisted with a hateful, bitter little smile. “Busy.”

Gem audibly scoffed. “Right.”

“Leave, Gem.” The order tasted strange in his mouth, when he desperately wanted her to stay.

“Not until I see you.” He heard her start moving around the room, picking things up and nudging them with her feet, rearranging boxes and sliding barrels aside as she searched.

“Leave.” The cranny was small, but he squashed himself further inside anyway, stone scraping against all the places where his skin was exposed.

“Are you back there?” His stomach squeezed with terror as he heard her move toward him, squeezing between two of the suspension tubes where he had once stored specimens he was researching. “I can’t see you.”

“Please, leave, please.” If he couldn’t order her, he could at least beg her. “Gem, please, if you care about me at all, go away.”

“fWhip, I do care about you,” she said gently. “That’s why I’m here in the first place. Please come out. I just want to know you’re safe.”

He could feel his heart ripping itself in half--desperation to hide warring violently with the desire to finally be seen, even if it would cost him everything. It felt like it might burn a hole in his chest, and his hands tightened reflexively into fists as he battled himself for what seemed an eternity.

“Please, little brother,” Gem whispered.

It was as if she had caved his chest in. A sob dragged itself from his throat before he could stop it, but he finally let himself unfurl from the cranny to drape limply across the floor, gazing up at his sister’s blue-violet eyes as they widened in shock, which turned to horror, which turned to sorrow.

“Oh, fWhip…” Gem reached out a hand toward him, but hesitated, drawing her fingers back before she could reach him. “What happened?”

“You really want to know?” He had to shove back another sob with a monumental effort, watching the way her fingers trembled as she gazed at him. “Or do you want to leave, like I told you to before?”

“No, I would never,” she gasped. “Not now. Not like this.” She sat down on the floor, her violet cloak flowing behind her like a pool of silky water, and slid closer to him, although not quite close enough for their hands to touch. “Tell me what happened.”

He let his eyes drift away from hers, toward the ceiling and the red crystals dripping from its shadowy recesses. “Well, it began two weeks ago.”

Two weeks earlier…

fWhip was not a stranger to surprises, but he liked receiving them far less than he liked planning them.

It had been a long elytra flight from the undisclosed location of the Wither Rose headquarters back to his home in the Grimlands, and the multiple hours in the air were wearing on his body--even though he had been wearing his scarlet goggles for the duration, his eyeballs still ached as if the wind had been hammering them, as did his shoulder blades from the yank and drift of the elytra against his own muscles.

“Maybe next time I take a horse,” he muttered to himself as he angled in for the landing. The deepslate roofs of the Grimlands were beginning to glide by beneath him now, and he made for the circular patch of dirt at the back of the manor that was his customary landing site, his eyes trained on it until something else caught his attention.

“I am positive that was not there before…” One hand came up to tap his chin as his gaze caught on the massive outcrop of deepslate that had bloomed at the front corner of the manor gardens, studded with glinting redstone crystals. A darker shadow within the ring-shaped formation suggested there might possibly be a hole there, though how deep was indiscernible from this far above.

“If somebody has been trying to steal from me again--wait.” fWhip narrowed his eyes at the spot, investigating it more closely now, for it seemed more familiar the closer he drew. He could vaguely recall setting a circle of rocks within the closed hedges, and in their center, a red container, filled with--

“Damn! Xornoth again!” His breath huffed out harshly as he realized what had happened. First the explosion, and now this…

Veering off-course from his typical spot, he carefully glided down until he was low enough to snap the elytra closed and drop gracefully to the ground between the wide hedge rows. From down here, the deepslate ring seemed much larger than it had from the air, its jagged edges stabbing into the blue sky. He could tell now that there was, indeed, a hole at the center, exactly where he had placed the shulker-box filled with Xornoth’s corruption.

“Damn,” he whispered again. He edged closer, peering carefully at the hole as he neared in an attempt to see what might be at the bottom. It appeared to be deeper than he was tall, however, and he was forced to maneuver up to the very lip of the hole to get a good look at the bottom. Thankfully, there did seem to be a bottom, lurking maybe ten feet below the surface; the depths of the hole were quite dark, though, only dimly illuminated by patches of glimmering red crystals, and he was unable to determine much more than that.

fWhip wondered, briefly, if he ought to just ignore the hole. Common sense would seem to suggest that it was involved with Xornoth in some way, and therefore worthy of at least being avoided for the time being until he could request the help of his allies. fWhip, however, whether fortunately or not, had always been availed of a strong sense of curiosity--it was how he had developed so many of his gadgets and tools. Besides that, there was something about the depths of the small hole that seemed to call to him, and him specifically.

He glanced around, taking stock of who might be nearby in case he needed to call for help, and saw no one in the immediate vicinity. There was a groundskeeper’s cottage just on the other side of the hedge row, but he had no way of knowing whether anyone might be inside.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take a chance,” he murmured. “Here goes.”

Gingerly, he sat down at the edge of the hole, dangling his legs off the side and exploring for possible footholds. It took him a minute, but his toes finally caught on a ledge, and he was able to hoist himself down and into the vertical shaft. Thankfully, the same jagged-edged property of deepslate that made it look menacing also made it excellent for climbing, and he had relatively little difficulty lowering himself the full ten or eleven feet to the bottom, where his feet landed on solid stone. Looking up, he was surprised how dim the sky seemed to be after such a short descent.

Now what? he thought to himself as he gazed around at the narrow walls on all sides. Surely I didn’t make an ass of myself climbing down here for no reason.

He had but a few seconds to wonder, as a strange hiss caught his attention, echoing from the rock walls. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but the small hole began rapidly to fill with a reddish mist, which, when he inhaled it, made the inside of his nose and throat burn as if he had inhaled fire. He coughed, accidentally inhaled again, and coughed more violently, and still the stuff spewed into the cavern, and he began to wonder whether this was a trap, and whether he had been an idiot for climbing down here, and whether his allies--his friends, his sister--would find his corpse rotting down here. His hands scrabbled for handholds to lever himself back up, but the mist had filled his eyes now, and it stung, forcing him blindly to his knees. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. Lights danced behind his eyelids, and his throat was a tunnel of fire, and then he was unconscious, and knew no more.

Present day…

“And the next thing I knew, I woke up. And...this.” fWhip gestured down to himself, unable to keep his mouth from curling like he had tasted something sour. “Or, well, part of it.”

“Part of it?” Gem cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it was just the wings at first.” He tugged at the grey-black appendages, hating that he could feel it when his fingers brushed the leathery flesh. “And to be honest, I thought they were awesome. Who hasn’t dreamed of having wings? Sure, they looked a little gargoyle-ish, but it seemed like a small price to pay for not having to use elytra anymore. And it felt like the redstone magic was helping me, maybe giving me a gift to fight against Xornoth. I thought it might be something good.”

“And then…” Gem prompted when he trailed off.

“And then...the rest started,” he whispered. “I tried to ignore it at first. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, or getting sick, because it started with just my eyes, and I felt like maybe it would go away if I just, I don’t know, pretended not to notice. But then it was my skin, and then my hands, and then...and then my face.” He turned away from her as a visible shudder made its way through him. “I look disgusting.”

“Why didn’t you call us for help?” Gem murmured.

“Because it was my fault it happened!” he growled, shaking his head. “Because I was an idiot and went down that hole and breathed in that gas, and now I’m a monster, and I have no one to blame but myself. Because I couldn’t wait for you.”

“fWhip, no!” He could see the glimmer of moisture in her eyes, and he hated himself even more for it, for making her upset. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t know what would happen, and you’ve always been an investigator. And now you’ve had to suffer alone, and I had no idea, and…” Her voice caught. “I was so worried. I thought maybe the demon…and especially after those dreams...”

He swallowed. “I...I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t know how to face everyone like this.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, simply listening to their own breaths. Finally, Gem said, “It doesn’t look that bad, you know.”

fWhip eyed her dubiously. “Gem, I look like a gargoyle. Like some kind of…” The word demon couldn’t force itself out, but he could see she understood, for she vigorously shook her head.

“No, you don’t look anything like that,” she said. After a long pause, she quietly added, “You look like my little brother.”

He tried, but couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks. “Thanks,” he whispered.

She reached over and finally took his hand, and he almost shouted with joy at the touch of another person; her skin was warm and soft, her delicate tiny fingers gentle as they closed around his rough, clawed ones.

“We’ll figure this out,” she promised. “Together.”

He nodded, and squeezed her hand. “Together.”

#empires smp #mcyt #fwhip #geminitay #xornoth #c!fwhip #c!geminitay #cw body horror #cw suffocation #enjoy this #i suck #angst #writing

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mrskurono · 3 years

Text

a/n: this is the first installment(?) of the Nori brain rot from ages ago w/a Studio Ghibli vibe, idk man this just happened word count: 2.2k tags: post!Shibuya arc, possible spoilers, blood, violence, cursing(?), heavily Hoizer inspired, kinda edited character(s): Noritoshi Kamo, fem!sorcerer reader pt ll

Curses stank.

In a metaphorical sense yes. But also in a literal sense for you.

These twisted beings permeated your senses like a rot that you could never rid. Unless exorcised they stuck around in your nostril for days. Each one a different smell but all of them stuck in your craw all the same.

Beasts of rancid nature in behaviors and looks. Nothing more than to be exorcised by sorcerers. You learned quickly that exorcising the curses was no different than taking out week old trash.

What you hadn’t planned on was someone doing more than dumping trash on the world. Whatever had happened. Suddenly you were faced with more than just dutiful tasks of keeping non sorcerers safe. A monsoon of trash had been dumped not only on you. But every human in this world.

Your nostrils burned. And you couldn’t be rid of these things quick enough. Each one you exorcised only meant two or three popped up in their place. Never ending. You couldn’t stomach this smell though. It wouldn’t kill you before you got a breath of fresh air.

Glancing around you take a deep breath. Mountain air on the outskirts of Kyoto during this time of year always meant a refreshing break from the city stank. What you smelled wasn’t refreshing. It was that same vile smell you could clearly recall.

A curse. One that was close too.

To thread carefully was to perhaps save your life. Every aspect of daily life ripped from you. As well of millions of others. You had done your part to try and protect those around you. Soon finding it in slight vain as you sought out some place to find your own breath of fresh air in this madness.

‘It’s close....I feel like I’m gonna hurl.’ Thoughts toying with where the curse might have hidden itself. You keep a firm grip on your hilt with every intent to draw it the second the creature made the mistake of slipping up.

Where you could smell it lurking. There was something else. Almost metallic in scent. You ignored it though. Nothing over powered the scent of a curse. You longed for just the sight of these things. Told over and over again how handy it was to have more than one sense open to curses. Each and every time you took a whiff of one, it made you wish nothing more than to just be able to see these creatures instead of smell them as well.

‘Wait-’ Every alarm in your body went off. Snapping around you couldn’t smell the rancid putridness of the curse anymore. That same metallic scent hung around though. You couldn’t identify it. It was something you’d never smelt before but also so familiar.

Each hair on the back of your neck rose. This was an old deserted Buddhist temple. No one should have been here except you and the curse ransacking the place. A safe haven or so you thought. When your instinct told you to step behind one of the structural beams. You were suddenly glad you did.

Mere inches from your face, the gust of an arrow whistled past you. Weapons were not used by curses. Now you understood. That smell was human.

Quick to defend yourself, with sword drawn, you didn’t expect the same arrow to make a hard one eighty back in the direction you were. No wooden pillar to save you now. You raise your sword just quick enough to sheer the object in half. Rendering what ever power it was imbued with useless. As it had sped past you though the faint smell of iron suddenly became strong. Whatever it was from had a source. Likely human.

Not ready to give up your ideal hiding place to some interloper. You take only a second to focus on the unfamiliar smell. Faint. And not like a curse. There was something towards the back of the temple though that hinted that they were lurking where you couldn’t see them.

With an idea of where the attack would come from. When another arrow came flying by you from a faceless source, you were ready. Smacking it down before the enchanted weapon could turn on you like the first had. This time though you’d seen what angle the projectile was fired from.

‘Gotcha,’ No shortage of ways around a deteriorated temple like this. You duck down through a few broken beams and make your way up to where the attack came from.

Expecting to have but a lowly sniper sitting with no way to guard themselves. You find no one. But the scent lingered. Scrutinizing it closer you decided maybe to use a different sense, “...Hey, I know you’re not a curse! Neither am I! Maybe if you just-” Words cut off by another arrow whizzing past you. There was nothing ruder than being interrupted. Glowering in the direction that the arrow came from now you tightened you grip on your sword, “Ok! I get it- Strangers we might not-”

Another arrow. This time too close to your head for comfort. You lost your patience with the third one.

Recklessly charging towards the assailant was clearly enough to throw their game off track. Swinging your weapon before seeing what it was to lie before you. It was a surprise when your blade met with the dull thud of the wooden limb of a bow.

“What the-” You attack deflected for the moment being. Your first instinct is to jump back from whoever deflected your attack. In close enough range you thought you had the upper hand to avoid the bow. But that was purely lazy thinking on your part as the cause of the stank of iron became clear.

“Slicing exorcism!” This nobody who reeked of iron shot what looked to be a shuriken made of blood at you.

No time to be disgusted. An overwhelming scent of blood made it apparent what you’d been smelling. It wasn’t a simple metal. It was blood.

“Oh- Oh!” You raise your blade up in the nick of time to just get the splatter of cold liquid on your cheeks. Disgusted in passing you have no time to dwell as the stranger before you makes to dart away. With their head of dark hair in your line of sight, you weren’t ready to try and re-find them once again in this maze of debris.

Lurching forward you feel the upper hand stall when they stopped your attack once more with the brute of their bow. Clear view of them now. The man who’d clearly fired the arrows was all but composed when shaking off your attack. No way to not suspect another sorcerer caught up in this giant trash heap of curse attacks. You still have no time to play nice when they hurl another blood conjured weapon at you.

In such suddenness you are less lucky than you have been. This one catching your cheek and causing a sting to spread throughout the skin of your face. Fed up with this game you don’t care if he’s a sorcerer or not. This was a one for all situation now that you intended to win.

Firm foot hold found. You realize the man has cornered himself at this point. Range attacks out of the question. Undoubtedly giving you the upper hand now. With a hefty swing of your sword and the first time you’d channeled any energy into at all. You bring it down like a guillotine. Ready to strike flesh. Instead the snap of the bow is your first sign of an upper hand.

All but trash the man throws it aside but too slowly. You’re on him before the range attacker can pull that weird blood trick again. Slight intent to kill as if he were a curse. You swipe your foot down and knock him down to the temple floor with a hard thud.

You waste no time between the moment his head hit the ground and your above him. Tip of your blade pressed to his neck. One breath too deep from him and the sharp tip would pierce his pale skin. Eyes fixated down on him you realize in the moments after your adrenaline fades that he’s staring right up at you.

Sharp tongue your words come out curt only to be interruped right away, “Who are-”

“Another sorcerer-” His eyes open from the slits they’d remained in the skirmish, “What are you doing here? How did you-”

“I get to ask the questions!” You snarl, jabbing his throat with your sword just enough to watch a crimson bead peak from under the tip of your weapon, “You attacked me, what are you doing up here? Why were you-”

“...you’re so pretty-” Suddenly his eyes open wide realizing what he said, “Wait I didn’t-”

“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat out!” Your sword pressing uncomfortably into the side of his neck now, “I asked you a question! Why are you up here!?”

“Kamo-”

“What? What are you-”

“Kamo family!” He quickly sputtered, “Head of the Kamo family!”

The name rang a bell somewhere in your frazzled brain.

“I’m the head-” He suddenly registered really the blade to his neck, “I’m looking for stragglers-”

“In an abandoned temple?” You weren’t buying it.

“My people live just down the hill,” He spoke earnestly, “I had to keep the stragglers safe when the curses released from their seals in the keep. Some where up here but-”

“I killed them,” You glared down at him, “I killed all but the one you shot. How long were you up here? Were you following me?”

A shake of his head even as he stared at the glimmer of your sword, “No. I was looking for anyone who came up here. I didn’t expect to find another sorcerer. I felt your cursed energy and assumed you were a curse.”

Eyes narrowing you didn’t like the sound of something so simple to this pretty face, “...I don’t believe you. Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now or else-”

“Noritoshi-” He blurted out, “Noritoshi Kamo. Head of the Kamo family. I can give you some place safe to stay. I don’t understand what’s going on but-”

You lift the blade from his throat. Something about the diligent tone in his voice. Like he’d introduced himself like that a million times. You could kill him but it seemed a waste. Weapon retracted but no offer to help him up. You stand above him with a confounded glare, “...do you know what’s happening?”

His head shook and your stomach dropped. Noritoshi didn’t get up. Only propping himself up slightly when he realized the back of his head was thumping from the impact, “....A special grade curse released a powerful seal in Shibuya about two weeks ago...I saw but....” His face became somber and he shook his head once again, “...I don’t know what’s been going on. I just know things are in disarray and it’s my duty to protect my people.”

Once more you were skeptical but with how little rest you’d gotten in the past few days due to the tremendous increase in curses. This man’s words seemed as solid as any other theory you’d heard. More so than the plea of non sorcerer’s you listened to day in and day out about the end of times.

“...Has the Jujutsu elders said anything?” You step off him completely. If he was speaking the truth maybe he knew what was going on as an actual heir to one of the clans.

Noritoshi looked up at you a moment longer, “No...there’s been a wide emergency notice to do what you can but our numbers....” He grew quiet, “...as many sorcerers seem to be dying as the rest of Japan.”

Perhaps the end of times were coming. You grip your sword hilt tight and take a deep breath, “....seems a angel of death is coming then whether we like it or not.”

“You’re a sorcerer.” He began to get to his feet, “Please, come with me. If anything to stay away from here. There is a grave yard on the other side of the thicket. More curses will come. No one should be here even as a sorcerer yourself.”

First hand you’d seen the influx he spoke of. From every direction. While out of the city provided some safety you knew that this place left you as vulnerable as any other if you stayed alone. With no words to be spoken of from the elders. And an age of curses threatening to crowd out humans. Like a trash pile reaching it’s capacity. You didn’t see much choice in this one.

“...I will kill you if I find out you’re lying to me.” Voice firm without breaking eye contact with him as you sheath your sword, “I smell one curse in this safe space of yours and I’ll-”

“Kill me, yes,” Noritoshi nodded with both busted ends of his bow in his hands as he looked on at you, “I am not lying but if you see fit, I’ll accept you as my angel of death then.”

a/n: I have one wine cooler in me as I finish this. This might be a multi part if the inspiration finds me. Anyways, um, yeah! This is an old idea coming so pls let me know if you liked it!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #jjk noritoshi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (END 2 + 3 + 4: Call Out)

“This is such a remote area. Were I to do anything, it would be nothing more than a piece of cake.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Reblogs and likes appreciated! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution *T/N: This card takes me out so quick I needed time to recover. Hunter and prey... MC triggered the Hunter...

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

✥ Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

⊹ Ask Evan for his opinion ⊹

MC: Any bright ideas, Evan?

Evan: I'm thinking that maybe we can find a place to set up camp early…

Evan: Because you seem very eager to camp out.

MC: You got me. Let's go with that then!

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan was very experienced when it came to selecting a suitable campsite.

Eventually, we managed to find a fitting flat and cosy patch of grass that was both leeward and shaded, with a source of water nearby.

By the time we finished setting up the tent, the sky had already gradually darkened. The temperature of the forest quietly dropped as the occluding darkness surrounded us. But I had Evan with me, so there was no need to fear.

We lit the camp stove and roasted some food. The flickering firelight became the most dazzling thing in the forest, casting dancing shadows and lights all around. There was a certain romance to it.

For a moment, all I could hear was the crackling of fire and the soft chips and buzz of the insects nearby. It felt as if even time had come to a standstill.

❖☆———————————★❖

I inadvertently raised my head. The night sky above was adorned with stars, like fine scattered gemstones sewn onto an expanse of black velvet. Each and every one of them was equally lustrous, converging into a glimmering band of light and extending into the distance.

I watched the sky in a trance while lying on the grass. Evan sat quietly beside me

After a while, I tugged on his sleeve.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Look, the light of the stars only becomes much more apparent once all the lights have been extinguished.

MC: The grass smells good too, so why don’t you try lying down too?

He looked down at me with a smile and contemplated the idea. He finally agreed after a moment of hesitation.

Evan: Alright.

❖☆———————————★❖

He moved closer and laid down beside me. Now, another rhythm sounded in my ears: his gentle and steady breathing.

Evan: It is very beautiful.

MC: I feel like it's been a long time since I last saw a starry sky like this.

MC: No wonder those philosophers always liked looking up at the stars when they think. Now I understand why they would.

MC: The sight of an area this vast can make people forget all trivialities and let their thoughts wander further to the past and even the future.

Evan: So where has your mind flown off to now?

MC: Me? I’m thinking that since the forest is so beautiful, maybe I’ll go live in the forest next time, aha.

Then, a curious thought popped into my head.

MC: Right, Evan. Have you ever thought about where you’d like to live after having fulfilled all your goals?

❖☆———————————★❖

I waited for a long time, but Evan never replied.

Did he fall asleep?

I decided to gently call out to him…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E2: If you fail to call him ⊹

I’d called out to him multiple times in a row before he finally turned his head, looking slightly out of it.

Evan: Are you calling me? Sorry, I spaced out.

MC: Oh, no worries.

Evan smiled at me but didn’t say anything more.

Some people are made of mysteries. Perhaps this was simply a question he didn’t wish to answer now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E3: If you call him EVAN (陆沉) ⊹

Evan instantly snapped back to attention upon hearing me call out to him. He smiled apologetically.

Evan: Sorry. Your question's a little hard to answer. I lost track of myself thinking it through.

MC: Huh? Have you never imagined such things?

Evan: Hmm. That might be because the matters I always have on hand are more important, so I tend to focus all my attention on them.

MC: Right… I've been there and done that too.

MC: Back when I was schooling, I often found studying to be very dry and stressful.

MC: But, whenever I found myself unable to bear it anymore, I would fantasize about Summer Vacation and draw new motivation from it.

MC: Whenever I felt down or life got hard, I’d always dream about how much better life would be after I achieved my goals.

MC: Maybe you could think about it this way too?

Evan: After fulfilling my goal?

Evan: After that… I think nothing matters after that anymore.

His last sentence was so soft that it sounded as if he was mumbling to himself, and I wasn’t too sure if I’d actually heard him.

I turned to him in question, but he never answered, keeping so silent that it was almost as if he was one with the very ground.

I was starting to feel a little inexplicably worried when he then opened his mouth, as if the prior silence had never existed.

Evan: How about you tell me about it first? What’s your ideal life like? Maybe it’ll nudge me in the right direction.

MC: Hmm… Sometimes, I like lively Cities.

MC: But other times, I like someplace quiet; somewhere with mountains and water… I think that’s a pretty good place to live too...

MC: But there's no wifi there and I can’t eat my favourite ice cream… It’s a real pickle.

Evan: Perhaps what you like is change itself.

MC: Yeah… But some things will never change!

MC: Like, how I don't want to be too far from everyone.

MC: Without the people to share interesting things and breathtaking sceneries with, it'll certainly take the fun out of things.

His low chuckle sounded near my ear, close at hand.

Evan: I now know where I'd like to live next time.

MC: Where?

Evan: Somewhere not too far away from you. Would you welcome that?

MC: Of course I do. But, aren't you already here by me?

He turned his head over, watching me with a serious look as the light flickered at the bottom of his eyes.

My arm moved, inadvertently brushing against his cool skin, but also not shying away from it. He flipped his palm and encased my fingers within them.

Evan: You are correct.

Evan: To me, right now, life is perfectly fine as it is.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E4: If you call him HUBBY (老公) ⊹

Evan shot me a slightly surprised look. Suddenly, the realization of what I'd just done washed over me.

Then, he shifted closer to me; so close that I didn't even dare turn my head.

Evan: Are you trying to hint at something by suddenly addressing me in this manner?

Evan: This is such a remote area. Were I to do anything, it would be nothing more than a piece of cake.

I inwardly froze. Evan was different from usual today… His warm breath brushed past my ear, inciting a continuous yet faint ticklish sensation.

MC: Hahaha… You wouldn't...

Evan: And why are you so sure that I wouldn't?

MC: You're always mindful and courteous. You aren't… that sort of person.

Evan: "That sort of person"? What sort of person?

He lifted his head in interest, looking down at me in a condescending manner. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't even get a sentence out right as the temperature of my cheeks rapidly shot up.

MC: That… That sort… Evan, stop making fun of me like that…

He narrowed his eyes into a smile, suddenly flipping himself over and balancing himself above me!

Rationally speaking, I knew deep down just what sort of person he was, but my body still ran on instinct: It sensed danger.

His broad form, usually reassuring, looked immeasurably intimidating from this angle. I couldn't help but bite my lip as my heart sped off the charts.

MC: Evan, what are you… doing…?

Evan: I'm thinking about your question.

Evan: You asked me what sort of place I'd like to live at, correct?

MC: Then… what does this have anything to do with that?

Evan: I feel like your eyes might hold the answer I seek.

MC: That's a lie and you know it…

My voice grew softer and softer because Evan was slowly lowering himself down.

Watching those dark red eyes of his that hid a glimpse of a smirk in its depths gradually draw closer, I panicked, stiffening up as my mind went completely blank...

I frantically swiped his glasses from the bridge of his nose, turning over to keep them away from him.

MC: Any more, and no glasses for you!

Evan paused, a little stunned at the sudden loss of his glasses. He then moved away with a smile, lying back down on the grass.

Evan: Did I scare you? I apologize. I just wanted to poke fun at you.

Evan: Sometimes you’ll bite off more than you can handle when you think someone too simple.

I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief before angrily puffing out my cheek.

MC: Okay, okay, you’re not simple! Even more so to keep your glasses away from you!

Evan: Then I’d better stick close to you and let you lead me around. Will that be alright?

Evan: Hm? (Y/n).

I turned my back on him and felt him gently place a hand on my shoulder. The heat swiftly passed through the thin fabric of my clothes, making me unwittingly shudder at the warmth.

I could even feel his eyes digging into me. The area where he burned holes into me with his eyes was hot, the grass underneath me was no different, and neither were the glasses I held in my hands.

I couldn’t form the words to answer him; all I could do was to hope that he couldn’t hear how fast my heart was racing.

❖☆———————————★❖

The next day, early morning. I woke up to the melodious singing of birds.

Evan was already awake, neatly dressed and sitting on the folded chair at the entrance, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Evan: Good morning. Sleep well last night?

MC: Brilliantly! I was so tired from walking so long yesterday that I fell asleep the moment my head met the pillow.

MC: Oh, right. It’ll take quite a long time to go back where we came, so let’s eat something, pack up, and leave as soon as possible!

Evan set his cup of coffee down,

Evan: Aren’t you forgetting something?

MC: Huh?

Evan: I recall you wanting to see bamboo piths, but we have yet to see any.

I froze, awkwardly laughing it off

That had originally been an excuse to get him outside and I’d totally forgotten about it.

MC: Hehe. I’m not that adamant about seeing bamboo piths.

MC: I only said that back then as an excuse to get you out so that you can relax.

MC: I heard that you had things rather rough before that so I was a little worried about you.

He looked slightly surprised. Then, he lowered his eyes, a warm smile catching onto the sides of his mouth.

Evan: So it was because of me.

Evan: Thank you for accompanying me here. I’m certainly much more relaxed now.

MC: But considering how you were previously… Are you really okay?

Evan: Yes. It’s probably not as bad as you’re thinking. I was just thinking about some old people and old things and felt a little glum about it.

Evan: I never thought that I’d end up alarming others.

MC: Why am I “others” now?

MC: Don’t bottle your troubles up to solve them yourself. You need to remember to share them with people close to you as well!

Evan: Okay. I will keep that in mind.

I still didn’t know what he was troubled by, but I suppose this was still within my expectations.

From my impression of him, he has always been strong. It was almost as if he was shouldering a mission that no one knew about, walking down a similarly obscured path.

After finishing breakfast, we packed and prepared to leave the forest.

We idly chatted with each other along the way until suddenly, Evan stopped short while we were passing through an area.

Following his gaze, I saw a unique-looking umbrella-shaped thing growing within the shrubbery’s shade.

Evan: See? We still managed to chance upon it.

MC: Wow, are all of these bamboo piths?

We walked over together, squatting beside the small white fungi.

It had a small black cap and had grown out a long white mesh skirt.

This was the first time I ever saw a bamboo pith growing in the soil. I widened my eyes in surprise, unwilling to blink as I drank in the sight. After observing it for a while, I finally raised a finger, reaching out to touch its “skirt”.

MC: It’s so wet and soft-looking! It’s adorable! Have you seen it before, Evan?

MC: I can’t believe you managed to recognize it at a glance!

Evan: Yes. It was back during the first time I’d been driven into the forest as a child.

Evan: I witnessed the law of the jungle and escaped from the jaws of death of a snake. I felt like the forest was a place filled with danger and wanted nothing but to leave the place the faster, the better.

Evan: Then, just as I was hungry and exhausted, I saw a bamboo pith.

Evan: At that time, I didn’t know what it was and if it was actually poisonous.

Evan: Deep in the throes of despair, I thought “why not just take it, eat it, and see what my fate turns out to be”?

MC: Evan…

Evan: But guess what I saw while I was hesitating?

Evan: I saw it growing its fungus skirt. All it took was a little effort on its part, and its little skirt grew longer and longer.

Evan: I stared at it blankly, in a daze. I didn’t even notice that my legs had gone numb from how long I’d stared at it.

He retracted himself from his memory palace, turning around to face me with a smile.

Evan: It was as simple as a little young lady, capable of encouraging me with its adorability and enchantments.

Evan: It made me understand that forest, in all its gloom and doom, still has its own little interesting spots.

Evan: And that one is only capable of seeing it by living on, don’t you think?

His expression was quiet, but within those calm eyes of his, I could see that little boy who’d struggled his hardest to remain strong. I felt my heart constrict slightly at that and moved to hold his hand tightly in my own.

MC: Evan, that’s all in the past. You’re no longer that helpless little boy.

Evan: No, I’m fine.

Evan: I might have forgotten even this if we hadn’t seen the bamboo piths today.

Evan: It feels a little unbelievable when I think back on it now. It was a memory plagued by darkness, yet it still held its own beautiful moments.

I felt a pang of sorrow creep into my heart. Words of comfort were right at the tip of my tongue, yet I felt like they’d be completely helpless.

This man before me, strong as a warrior; someone who’d been forced to face life-or-death decisions from a very young age… Maybe he wasn’t as complicated as I initially thought he was.

There are many reasons why one would choose death, but to choose life? The reason was simple; just a little spark was required, and Evan was no exception.

MC: I forgot who said it, but someone once said that the meaning of existence that people spend their entire lives seeking out is actually hidden in the simple things.

MC: Evan, won’t you say that you might end up thinking similarly as well one day?

MC: You might not be able to find it immediately, but that’s fine. I will accompany you in your search for it, no matter how long it takes.

Evan fixed me with a profound look before stretching out his hand and reverently crossing it over my own.

Evan: Alright. Together we shall be.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #陆沉 #Evan #For Night For Revolution #繁荫秘语 #Umbrae Secrets

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goldafterglow · 4 years

Note

Head canon: MAKING JACK BLUSH. I NEED TO SEE IT. 🥺

Summary: Jack Daniels is a pretty cowboy.

Paring: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x reader

Word Count: 1.3k+

Warnings: soft!Jack, no sins but they are for sure basking in the post-sin afterglow, a lil bit of blushing for our baby boy, this is not beta read bc i’m impatient

Author’s Note: YESDJHGJFD I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF THIS. This is also my first little like drabble, except it’s too long but ig 1.3k is a drabble for me kids this is the standard.

It’s early in the morning. 1:43 am to be exact. But you can’t bring yourself to end the night; he always make it so hard to sleep. In a good way of course; a really good way.

It’s in the afterglow that his feelings begin to melt, glaciers in his mind turning to liquid as the golden amber spills gently from his lips and over your chest so that it will encapsulate you, dry around you and encase you, keeping his words wrapped around your body forever. Embroidered into the soft chenille of your neck and whispered into the lobes of your ears. He speaks to you in a way that you can feel; it’s a pleasure of its own to feel his lips kiss the dips of your clavicles through his words, his voice low and sending wide vibrations through your sternum. It feels sinful, heavenly, like something too good to be right.

It feels nice.

You’re laid by him on your side, face buried into his bare chest as his thick fingers run along the curve of your spine, re-exploring you with a sense of focused clarity that he doesn’t often get when he’s overwhelmed with lust and passion. His fingers are careful, sensitive, picking up on every bump and blemish until he can paint the perfect picture of you under his closed eyelids, even as the meek moonlight bathes your waist and glimmers against the sheets. Perfect.

He’s resolved to a comfortable state of wordlessness, eyes trained on the top of your head as you bask. There truly is something golden about the afterglow he casts onto you; you always seem to feel like you’re floating, like not even gravity could keep you from ascending to the clouds with him. He makes you feel precious.

With an inhale of his musk, you slowly nudge your chin so that you can look up at him, fingers tracing his jaw. You love to let him shower you in his affection like a delicate hummingbird is kissed by tiny drops of rain, but you rarely take the time to take him in. The bump of his nose is highlighted by the window’s rays, his lips still a little blushed and swollen from the night. The side of your palm runs up along the side of his face before finding his hair; it’s been mussed, disheveled by your greedy fingers. Gorgeous.

“What’s going on in that big beautiful mind of yours, angel?” Jack ponders, prodding you tenderly with his words. He can tell when you’re lost in thought, lost in him. Perhaps he can’t tell when you have no desire to be found, when you want to be left to traverse the tall grass of his forest and hug the applewood in his eyes. What a way to go.

“Nothing, Jack,” you assure. It’s a weak excuse, an almost embarrassing attempt at deflecting his question, but maybe it’s because you want him to ask you again, dig a little deeper into you so he can make a home inside you. Never leave.

“Now, darlin’,” he starts, feigning a little sternness in his tone, “I think you know good and well that ol’ Jack can tell when you’re fibbin’. Ain’t no use lyin’ to me, honey. I’ll catch ya every time.” Your heart swells swells a little at his words, because he’s so honest with you. You know he knows you, sometimes better than you know yourself. He’s made you his hobby, learning you like a subject and studying you like a book. He can always read you.

And yeah; he always catches you.

You take a few diamond-adorned seconds to look at him; his mustache rests right on top of his soft smile, there to accent his words and tickle your neck when he’s feeling playful. His eyes are wide like when a two-month old baby can finally look at its mother in awe, utterly mystified and doe-y. His face is sculpted by the gods, chiseled to magnificence in his charcoal features, and yet he uses it to show you he loves you. He loves you.

“You’re so pretty, Jack,” you whisper. The words barely leave your lips as a noise, traveling to his ears as wisps of the breeze you blow onto him.

Jack Daniels is floored.

It’s not a word he’d ever use to describe himself. Cocky, sure. Sexy, absolutely. Brash, confident, competent; he wasn’t too shy to toot his own horn every once in a while. But pretty? Flowers are pretty; butterflies are pretty. When the sleepy sun yawns and breathes a peach glow onto the front-porch flower bed, that’s pretty. When you step outside to dip yourself in the golden afterglow and he walks out into the backyard to find you sitting on the quaint bench he built just for you. When he drags himself into the kitchen in the morning to find you already there, frying up bacon on his stove in nothing but his unbuttoned flannel and last night’s bra; that is fucking pretty.

But Jack Daniels -- is he pretty? He looks down at you carefully. He can tell when you’re fibbin’, after all.

You don’t look like a dishonest woman to him.

“You’ve already got me in bed with you,” he teases, trying to deflect. He can’t handle the weight of your words, isn’t strong enough to hide what they do to him, and he needs you to take them back before he bursts into a supernova of rouge love. “You don’t need to-”

“I mean it, baby,” you interrupt, tone serious. You can tell he doesn’t want to believe you, doesn’t want to grapple with the intensity of your thoughts. But he needs to know, he has to trust you’re not deceiving him. “You’re beautiful.”

His smirk is gone, his smug, self-assured grin nowhere to be seen. The room is dark; he knows that. But the moonlight hits him just right, at just the right angle that you can see that sweet strawberry syrup tint his cheeks, giving him up. You can’t help but smile a little, like you’ve done something good. He’s good.

Jack’s breathing is a little jagged, his heartbeats a little stuttered. What was it he’d done to deserve you again? Oh right; nothing.

Your hand leaves his hand to cup his red cheek, thumb running right under his big eyes. He leans into it, face turning a little to nuzzle your palm, and the notion makes you giggle. A fierce lion reduced to a whimsical lamb, so gentle under your touch. He is vulnerable when he is with you, especially in these shared moments of solitude, and you wonder if you could look at him like this forever.

Blushing.

“C’mere, pretty boy,” you tease, but you mean it. You mean every word.

You nudge him towards you, his face finding solace in your chest. He shifts down a little, his soft body wrapping around your middle. He can hide in you, feel pretty in your arms. He’s safe in you.

“You think I’m pretty, sugar?” he asks softly. Almost a little timid. He’s embarrassed to need validation like this, ashamed that he’s practically begging you to say those words again, but you make him feel so warm, so secure, and he knows that the last person to leave him for a lapse in strength is you.

You press a kiss to the top of his scalp, his wild hair tickling your nose but you don’t care; you want him close. Closer.

“I know it,” you whisper, throat closing on itself a little because you’re so grateful that you finally get to tell him. That Jack can finally begin to grasp just how much he means to you. There’s so much more you want to say, but you don’t want to overwhelm him with it because you know he loves you with a fury and passion that drowns him without you piling on your love too.

And as Jack closes his eyes, finally ready to let the night end, he thinks he might know it too.

Tags (ik this is a drabble but idk lmao): @gustavos @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @mrsparknuts @girlwithanewplan @mrschiltoncat @buckstaposition @the-feckless-wonder @ergotautology (girl you know what to do)

also im gonna never tag anyone in my headcanons again bc that was embarrassing yikes gjfhdjgd

#iris writes #jack daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #drabble #?#soft!Jack #fluff #wgjdfkgj wow y'all really wanted fluff huh #tryna fucking break me down for part 2 i see #it's called astroprojecting luv

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juminly · 4 years

Note

Can i just say your last hc😱😱😱😳! Im still squealing over how sweet and cute it was❤❤🥰🌈 So naturally i cant resist but request a continuation HC for ma best bois, Theo, Vincent and Isaac! If u dont mind❤❤😳🌻 also just wanted to send u a reminder incase you forgot...You are a wonderful human! And im super happy to have met such a wonderful ray o sunshine on tumblr ☀️🌞 hope you are keeping safe and warm❤🦋🌻 Thabk you so much dear! Sending u tons of hugs🙌🙌🙌🌻❤🌞

My lovely Zeta, you’re making me blush. Love you, darling and you always brighten up my day with your sweetness. Here are some best bois for you. Tagging @delicateikemenmemes cause Theo... XD

First kisses with Theodorus, Vincent and Isaac

Theodorus Van Gogh

The first time Theodorus kisses you, you feel alive and truly loved, desired and… needed.

He kisses you out of utter frustration from all the pent-up emotions he's been trying to hide, behind that handsome smug face of his.

Blame and thank his tsundere ass for this kiss.

Threading his fingers softly through your hair, his gentle touch was a contrast to the kiss he surprised attacked you with and the way he’s almost crushing you in his embrace.

Theodorus is fierce, holding you securely against him, not giving you the chance to pull away, even if you wanted to.

His kiss is full of hunger, claiming yours with an incredible sense of urgency and laced with so much passion and intensity as he licks and nips at you, coaxing you to open up for him, entwining his tongue with yours.

This man was making you dizzy, in the most blissful way anyone could do so and if you didn't happen to whine against his mouth and push your hands on his chest, he wouldn't have broken the kiss.

He literally took your breath away and he was almost completely content in not breathing at all, if it meant being connected to you.

His need for you threatened to consume him and his body was slightly shaking as he resisted the need to pull you in for another kiss.

Theo rests his forehead on yours and pants, just simply holding you in the most heartwarming embrace while tangling his fingers through your hair delicately. (Boy is trying to calm himself, okay?)

He'll curse under his breath for losing control then grin a bit abashed by his lack of composure and he’s also kinda blushing, only to find you resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him and smiling softly.

“What are you smiling about, Knabbeltje?”

“Hmm...” you pause to think, his eyes locked on yours then searching your face, captivated by the soft blush on the top of your cheeks. “Just the man I love.”

“H-Hondje… Y/N… You…” he attempts to use a warning tone but he can’t help but croon your name roughly.

“Your Hondje… Your Y/N.”

You poked his heart real hard.

And to put the cherry on top, you go on the tip of your toes, meeting his lips in a kiss that’s so sweet, the man actually melts and moans/sighs against your lips.

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, darling.

PS: Theodorus Van Gogh is officially flatlining and you are now the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted and his favourite too.

Vincent Van Gogh

When inspiration strikes, this angel surrenders himself to his muse and is in a creative state of trance.

You often find him with paint streaks over his beautiful face and his hair ruffled in a complete mess, as if he thoughtlessly ran his lithe fingers through them over and over again.

In order to get him to stop and take a break (to have some Rouge or Blanc), you’d step in front of his stool, blocking his view from his canvas and give him something to drink and wipe the paint of his face.

He did look adorable but he began asking you to wipe the paint of his face.

Honestly, he didn’t mind the paint. He just liked it when you were near.

Standing between his legs, you’d dip a piece of cloth in some water and wipe the paint off his cheek and even found paint stains on his face.

Leaning down, you started giggling as you found trouble removing bits of the paint, staining his skin/hair even more than before.

Looking up at you, Vincent was absolutely taken by you, the sound of your soft laughter and your peaceful expression.

Acting on impulse, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down while he raised himself slightly from the stool, meeting you in the middle in a sweet chaste kiss with a happy smile.

You can feel him smile against your lips and it’s the sweetest thing on earth.

He pulls away only momentarily to assess your expression, seeing the most beautiful shade of pink dusting your cheek and a smile that matched his.

That’s all he needed to see. All that he ever wanted.

He would guide your hand over his shoulder and sit back down on his stool, pushing his knees apart while pulling you closer to him with a gentle hand on your waist.

His expression is relaxed and lips parted as your love for one another brings your lips together once more.

He whispers your name ardently against your lips. He didn’t need to say anything more… you simply knew.

As your lips brush against one another, Vincent sucks and licks your lips, humming with so much zeal, the sound so beguiling that you impulsively allow him to ravage you so sweetly with every push of his tongue against yours.

He draws you closer to sit on his lap, his hands now resting on your sides, caressing your form and squeezing you as you both surrender to your emotions.

Isaac Newton

This cute bean has been staring at your lips all day. He feels an inexplicable pull to press his lips against yours and kiss you.

He doesn’t know why, he can’t even begin to understand why his body feels the way it does but he needs to do something about it.

You’re beautiful to him. You glimmer, you shimmer, you shine and he wants to bask in the light, the love and the happiness that you’ve shown him in life.

You’re standing in front of his room, talking to him about something that he was meant to teach you when you suddenly find his face right in front of yours, leaning closer and closer and his nose bumps into yours.

That’s more than enough to make him scowl because his first try was a failure but before he could let his embarrassment overwhelm him (although his cheeks have already turned into the red shade of apples that he claims to hate), he cradles your face with trembling hands and tilts his head to the side, making sure that he angles himself correctly this time, laying the softest of kisses on your lips.

Breathing out nervously, Isaac is barely even able to meet your gaze, still wanting to see your reaction to what just happened.

Did you like it? Did you hate it? Was it wrong for him to do that?

Too many questions were running through that genius brain of his and you definitely knew that.

You firmly grabbed his hands that were placed on your face, ensuring that he doesn’t let his nervousness or hesitation take over.

You finally... finally got a sign from this shy man and you wanted to let him know that you wanted the same thing he did.

You called his name almost pleadingly, forcing him to look into your eyes that showed nothing but love for him.

You wanted more and you could see the same reflected in his cherry blossom eyes.

“Kiss me. Kiss me again, Isaac.”

Your words almost made him choke, hearing the desperation in your voice.

Was that his heart fluttering in his chest or a bunch of butterflies? He couldn’t even tell. He didn’t care.

He just had to comply, leaning towards your lips once again, brushing them gingerly against yours.

Walking closer to him, you closed the distance between you and gradually deepened the kiss, his breath hitching under the intensity of your gentle assault and his knees threatening to buckle, if it wasn’t for the door that was now pressed against his back.

You pushed him against the door even harder as your body flush against his, biting his lower lip and licking your way through as he willingly parts them for you with a silent moan.

You press your tongue against him hungrily and he eventually does the same, pulling one other into the rising warmth and the now simultaneous beating of your hearts.

Isaac’s sense of gravity was completely lost but he couldn’t care less, he found everything that he needed in this moment... in you.

Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theodorus #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp isaac #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikemen vampire vincent #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire headcanon #ikemen vampire headcanons #ikemen series #cybird #otome #fluff #first kiss

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itsmaddienotmaddy · 3 years

Text

Buckle up bitches, I have a LOT to say.

USA v Brazil

Alyssa had a #1 goalkeeper game. She directed, she came up big, she’s Our keeper. It’s good for us to have games where she’s tested. Yeah, it’s not fun to watch those dangerous chances that could cost us. But Alyssa makes things less scary.

Becky had a phenomenal game. The crosses she denied, her positioning to keep players wide, allllll her headers. Her calming presence is so appreciated and she’s a huge reason the US is successful defensively.

Crystal is world fuckin class. When she came all the way to the other side and SAVED OUR LIVES. I mean. Come on. She was lucky in the sense that Brazil’s game plan was to attack down the left ONLY to expose Abby and Sonnett. She was given a better opportunity to work more offensively, and her and Christen connect beautifully. Her Christen and Lindsey were connecting in just an insane way. The chemistry with those three on the left was perfection. Crystal had some moves that had my jaw on the ground, she’s so smart. And the runs she made to open up passes and crossing opportunities.. when is her master class? I would like to attend.

Okay. Gonna lump Abby and Sonnett together a bit here. I want to start by saying, I don’t think they did BAD. Didn’t do great! But you have to take a step back and examine the situation. All Brazil wanted to do was attack down that side. Who were the two players doing the attacking? MARTA AND DEBINHA. Two absolutely incredible, tricky, LETHAL players. So, did Sonnett and Abby both makes mistakes and get beat a couple times? Yeah. Of course they did. Did they also come up big on other defensive plays? They sure did. Abby recovers very well when she gets beat and she showed that. Sonnett had some good tackles, she WAS cutting off angles on passes and kept some transition plays from happening. She dealt with Brazilian players pressing with some sick moves AND had two beautiful crosses into the box to Lindsey. (And to echo my post during the game, Sonnett and Horan are NOT allowed to try and 1-2 pass out of the back. Dumb dumbs. They ARE allowed to double team players together though. Much more effective.)

Julie. I genuinely couldn’t tell if she was having a terrible game or a great game. There were glimmers of brilliance, perfectly timed defensive tackles, smart movement, good passes. Then she had some bad shots rocketed to the moon, passes to NO ONE, and throwing the ball away out of bounds. Overall, confusing performance from her, but not detrimental.

Rose had herself a GAME. Idk where her prewrap went, her hair was definitely getting in her face. But her movement was incredible. Her defensive work was incredible. It was very clear that Vlatko was asking every single player to work defensively to get numbers in the back. Christen and Lindsey worked with Crystal, Rose and Lynn working to help Sonnett. Okay, back to purely Rose. She was dictating pace, she was doing moves, she was making smart tackles, she was setting up dangerous scoring opportunities. She was in her ELEMENT. She was obviously tired as shit at the end, but it’s because she put in the work. That’s why we have subs.

Lindsey pisses off people on the internet and that’s fine. She is a physical player, a bulldozer. And people don’t love that. But she takes it as much as she gives it. Such is life battling for balls in the middle of the field. This game though. This game. Jesus Christ Lindsey Horan is good at soccer. Her first touch is so smooth, her vision, her work rate to be everywhere on the field, god, her weighted passes! Hello. Did she not have both assists? And she did all of that, for a full ninety. Insanity. She handles defensive pressure so well, pinging passes around, always giving someone an outlet. The fact that she was a defensive savior on many occasions and was involved in both goals... I. How?

Kristie. Loving all the minutes she’s getting. Little lost out there for her short time in, this did not look like a game that was easy to slot into. But, ya know, she didn’t do anything wrong. More minutes for Argentina? Maybe a START?

Lynn. Kind of like Julie, she was either doing amazing things, or a whole lot of nothing. This was not an offensive game for her, which isn’t great for a forward. To her credit, she tracked back defensively very well. But her 1 v 1 offensive challenges, she was getting stuck. When she worked her ass off to get those scoring opportunities, she wasted them. Slowing down in the box was not the move. Unlike Christen who slows with the purpose to cut the ball and unleash a shot, Lynn was slowing down and then didn’t know what to do. It was frustrating to watch and I’m sure it was frustrating for her. That was not the performance she needed to have. But damn, I appreciated the speed trio of her, Alex and Christen. (Though I think I’d rather put Tobin in her place in a starting 11)

Alex had a pretty good game. Her work rate was high and she did what only she has perfected. That woman is EXCELLENT at drawing fouls. She goes hard, she gets her legs tangled up, she spins the right way and she gets herself ROCKED. This canNOT be good for her body, but getting those set pieces for a team that thrives with set pieces.. it’s valuable. I thought she had awesome fluidity switching going wide and staying central with Lynn and Christen. I’m happy with her start and happy with her performance.

Christen Press was out there doing Christen Press things. It’s been hard watching her play at United and not do the incredible things we all know she can do. THIS game?? She sliced and diced that defensive line. Just stupid good on the ball, with accurate passing and movement with Crystal and Lindsey. That side was unstoppable. You could hear Vlatko yelling at her to come back defensively and she did. SO well. She had a lot of important clearances that got us out of the danger zone and back on the attack. And her goal. Oh my god her GOAL. It’s what she does. HAO said it. It’s what she practices over and over so come game time, she makes it look easy. I love her sm.

Carli was not the correct sub choice. Should have been Cat. She literally did not do anything.

Sophia was given opportunity in a tough game. Unfortunately, she didn’t do much with it. She didn’t provide the same defensive work the other players did. Lindsey slid over to cover that job for sure. And her one incredible goal chance, she did the same exact thing that WASNT working for Lynn all game. But, she needs the minutes, she got them, she’s got time to grow.

Pinoe coming in as a SUPER SUB. Which I think is def going to be her role going forward as long as Press stays in form. Initially, she was not exuding super sub energy. She doesn’t love doing the defensive work and it shows, and the announcers called her out for not helping the press when Julie triggered it. But she settled into it. Pinoe is a SMART player and THAT BITCH KNOWS HOW TO SCORE. And she did JUST THAT. Love a good Pinoe goal celebration too.

That’s my two cents on all that. Overall. What a game. My eyeballs were glued to the screen, heart rate skyrocketing. I love this fuckin team.

#uswnt #alyssa naeher #becky sauerbrunn #crystal dunn #abby dahlkemper #emily sonnett #Julie ertz #rose lavelle #lindsey horan #kristie mewis #lynn williams #alex morgan #christen press #sophia smith #carli lloyd #megan rapinoe

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (11/14)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Levi could only be grateful that Petra had taken charge.

He was in no mood to do much but sit down, maybe get the gears of his brain moving when questions on coding or troubleshooting were directed to him. When the questions were on expected behavior of application, on known bugs, the motions in his mind were automatic, the responses that followed were second nature.

In that particular role, he was certain he’d be functional at the least.

There were questions about the overall testing process though that required more consideration, more planning and maybe some drawing. They weren’t formulaic. They required an overall different approach, a different part of the brain and Levi was only further convinced of that as he watched Petra draw over the floor plan with pencil.

He didn’t make sense of it at first and maybe all he needed was just a little push in the right logical direction.

Petra’s explanations were a godsend. “With the size of the gym, we can manage thirty tests at once…” She drew circles over the gym, evenly spaced. “We do it all at once, then we have them exit through here. ” She continued to trace the path from the front of the gymnasium to the back. “Then they answer the questionnaire over here, then one of the facilitators will submit it to the moderator’s table.”

The line that weaved efficiently through markers was a sign enough that she had put much thought into the overall planning process.

The moderator's tables was strategically positioned on one corner of the gym, angled in such a way to be inconspicuous.

Levi looked back for a second, noting, it's almost invisible presence next to the stage and the stored sports equipment.

And all I have to do is sit here, listen and answer questions right? Levi wished he could have asked it out loud. What kind of head engineer would he seem like if he did though? He went for the less desirable option of just keeping quiet, instead letting whatever questions in his brain out as one raised eyebrow.

“We want to make the most of our resources here so Eld, Oluo, Gunther, can facilitate. Make sure that none of the Love Alarms are on silent, that all the questionnaires are answered then mark on the box if it did ring. And Levi…” Petra turned to Levi. “I recommend you stay in the moderator’s table, encode the data, and stand by for any issues that may come up.”

Levi nodded. “That sounds like a plan.” He forced those last words out of his mouth while brushing off the almost guilt inducing relief at the confirmation of his own job and soon after that, the painful awareness of his own strange disconnect from the overall testing process

Petra though, had proven more qualified to take over. She had taken it upon herself since even the planning stages, coordinating with the logistics team, coordinating with the marketing team. Thus, she was in a better position anyway to brief people.

More importantly, she was admirably calm and professional about the whole process of presenting a plan in front of one of the biggest investors of the company. A very glaring reminder why she had been assigned to front office work since the start.

It wasn’t at all difficult to admit that Petra deserved to manage it.

So he let her take free rein. Levi leaned back on the wall, arms crossed as he watched the hand drawn lines darken under Petra’s delicate motions. He was tempted to doze off and a few times he did, especially when Petra took some time out to mention the specific responsibilities of facilitators.

When she mentioned the data encoding process, Levi forced himself to listen. Moments after that, when Petra shifted to other topics, he found himself darting his eyes across the small crowd, letting his eyes land on Zeke. The view of Zeke standing on one side of the table, looking deep in thought sent a rush of urgency through him, a very natural reaction to money, corporate obligation.

And something else.

Something unfamiliar and unwelcome. Sadness? Before Levi could even pin down the emotion, he was already following Zeke’s gaze.

Those blue eyes were tracing the plans on the table. Levi observed for a while, making quick guesses of what Zeke had been watching on the table, maybe to get a glimmer of what the man could have been thinking. Just behind the table though, on their side, there was something that had caught his attention more quickly than some overly detailed plans and some notes he had seen too many times already.

There were two hands clasped together and before he even noticed it himself , Levi was staring, tracing the thumbs with his eyes. Soon, he concluded, the grip of one of those hands was all too familiar.

Levi looked up, only to confirm what he already knew.

Hange could have known he was watching but Levi liked to guess that she didn’t. After all, she didn’t meet his gaze, instead, her head shot up, her eyes shifted towards Zeke.

It felt like an unspoken rejection.

A very out-of-place feeling of rejection.

Why would she look at me? Levi looked back down at the plan, letting the mood whiplash that followed rush through him. In those few moments, nothing much had changed. The markers were just a little clearer, the black ink a stark contrast to the white paper but he only found as he continued to follow it, that he couldn't make much sense of it anymore.

“Are you okay with this plan?” Petra asked.

Levi wasn’t looking so he couldn’t be too sure who she was talking to. Her voice was careful, gentle, and her tone was very respectful. He took the risk of making eye contact.

“Boss, are you okay with it?” She repeated. “If you have any feedback…”

Out of instinct, Levi nodded. “Yes, it looks like a great plan.” He could only thank whatever god, or whatever natural forces had made his voice naturally toneless and uninterested. That was the most he could have feigned anyway in such an unexpectedly tense situation.

Petra nodded and moved on from there. And whether or not the others had been looking at him, Levi couldn't tell too much. Their eyes fell back on the table in front of them, Petra continued to prattle on about logistics and upkeep.

Soon, Levi decided, he could probably just learn along the way. All he had to do was keep watch on the moderator’s table and encode data anyway.

Right? “I’ll go to the toilet first,” Levi whispered from behind Petra.

Petra saw him off with a subtle eyebrow raise.

With that bout of freedom, Levi broke away from the small crowd and made his way out of the gym. There probably was a toilet inside the gym but he didn’t bother to search for it. The point of the toilet break was the break more than the actual toilet.

Over the long drawn orientation, Levi realized he was tired, unmotivated and maybe a little desolate. Everything had the potential to tick him off and he just needed some time to breathe.

Maybe a long walk could help. Maybe pretending Hange didn’t exist for just a few minutes would help.

His emotions were a mush and he found himself in some strange in-between state as he strolled aimlessly through the campus. He was looking for a way to get lost while at the same time, he was looking for the most efficient way to make it to some empty toilet.

After a good number of unproductive minutes and a not-too-comforting toilet break had passed, Levi conceded. He might really have to do a quick search to even find his way back in such a big campus. After opening the maps app and confirming location, Levi made one last check on one certain application to satisfy his curiosity.

Purple. His emotional alarm confirmed. He was going to have to be productive despite being very purple.

Levi pocketed his phone and made the familiar trek back to the gym.

The gym exploded into a cacophony of rings from that familiar alarm and very annoying echoes that never seemed to end, both sounds Levi was all too tired of hearing already.

It didn't help at all that booting up his laptop and opening the sheet had been also an excruciatingly slow.

When he organized the stack of questionnaires into a pile next to his desk, he was just a little disconcerted. Disconcerted enough that it took him some time to notice that someone had settled onto the seat next to him.

Recognition came quickly, the first question came out instinctively. “Why are you here?” They were still close enough at least that Hange seemed to have gotten his question even with the little effort he put into speaking over background noises.

The flash of surprise in her eyes, beautifully framed as Hange furrowed her brows was very telling of Levi’s tone. Was he too abrasive? Well, they had a pretty good send off yesterday. Right? He eventually concluded, he probably could have been a little nicer.

Hange was a distraction. When Hange was next to him on the moderator’s table, it felt like a carrot was being dangled in front of him. When it was him and her, in front of hundreds or other people, some of them people who could potentially ask about Hange, he couldn't even act naturally around Hange.

Levi could only entertain the possibility that it would have been easier if she wasn't present.

It didn’t help at all that Zeke was just a few feet behind Hange. Sometimes, the blonde was rattling on about possible investment plans with some very irritating enthusiasm. Sometimes, he was talking to some other school official and sometimes he was on the phone with god-knows who. And every now and then--- No, not every now and then--- In very regular intervals, Levi would notice the way Zeke would stare at the both of them for just a few seconds.

Not infrequently enough for Levi to blame his own paranoia, yet too often for Levi to have noticed some pattern.

Hange though, hadn’t been very helpful. She started to type on her laptop much louder. “I volunteered to help encode data. Petra said during the briefing that you wouldn't be able to do it alone. Weren't you listening?"

Maybe he hadn't been listening. That didn't mean he had to admit it. “Only one person needs to do it,” Levi responded.

“We’re looking at hundreds or even thousands of data points.”

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

Hange turned to him, her eyes observing. “And you seem tired.”

“Do I?” That last syllable came out as a croak. Hange’s own conjecture had left Levi thinking, then he was suddenly more aware of his own vulnerability.

When she stared at him for a while longer, her lips curling up into a soft smile, Levi had to acknowledge her ability to just see through him. He cleared his throat, swallowing that crack in his voice from a second ago.

“How are you feeling?” Hange asked. She continued to type, sometimes she shifted to clicking with the mouse, maybe preparing a spreadsheet.

The question had come out of nowhere and in the air between them, it seemed almost out of place. What could he expect though after their last encounter?

He silently stumbled upon the answer. Nothing. There was no well-backed formula to navigate such complex circumstances.

Levi didn’t answer immediately, allowing himself a few minutes to at least come up with something fair. He leaned back on the metal chair and stared up at the ceiling. He dug into his pants, searching for anything to hold onto, dryer lint, a few odds and ends to distract himself with. He was a naturally fastidious person and consequently, digging into pockets had left him empty handed. With no choice but to answer, He opened his mouth slowly, before he could even come up with something. “Purple,” he eventually whispered.

It was still loud enough for Hange to hear. She responded soon afterwards. “I’m feeling green, very green.”

Happy sad? Or sad happy? Those questions never left his mouth. Maybe he was a little terrified to know the answer. Maybe he just didn’t trust himself to function if by some chance she said something he didn’t want to hear.

Besides, this was a professional relationship. They were colleagues, business partners.

And once again, Levi reminded himself. Why should she think of him as anything more than that?

“You’re not joining testing?” Levi asked.

They had been silent for a while, long enough for Levi to get tired of staring at Zeke and Erwin who had been engaged in some other conversation on a table towards the corner of the gym, some area concealed by some makeshift stage. From the moderators table situated right beside the stage. Levi couldn’t make out conversations but he could make out some of the gestures and mannerisms

There was another man, someone Levi didn’t recognize. A School Official?

It didn’t seem necessary for him to think too much of it. After all, it had seemed like a more casual conversation. Zeke though, always seemed to be having a relaxed conversation while Erwin never looked like he was having one.

“I left my phone...” It had felt like ages before Hange replied.

He didn’t even notice he had been waiting for her reply until he turned back, and returned her gaze. Until he found himself unable to respond, possibly out of shock.

She continued. “Back in the house…” Her words came slowly. Maybe she had been too engrossed in something else in her laptop to tell.

We have test devices. The suggestion seemed almost automatic

Levi’s mouth was already halfway open when she interrupted. “I’d personally rather I didn’t test the Love Alarm today. He might insist we test it but I thought it worth a shot to at least not have my phone with me, to make it less convenient.” She shrugged then gave him a knowing look.

You know why… Those had been the silent words between them. And there could have been a silent conversation after that, or a silent moment of comprehension. Something only two people whose love alarms rang under the mercy of the most complex of circumstances could have ever understood.

In the silence that followed, Levi kept himself busy encoding some of the data that had already come in. He was grateful there were still parts of the spreadsheet that needed fixing. He managed to prolong his busy-ness and as they continued, he was committed to keeping both of them occupied.

The answered questionnaires came more quickly, in thicker stacks and Levi only got enough to seem productive, leaving Hange with a slightly bigger stack. The unsynchronized clacks of the keyboards were enough to fill the air of the room, for a good long hour.

He tried to take control in his own way, maybe find rhythm with Hange's typing.

A part of him was desperate to fill the air between them with some casual conversation but when he opened his mouth, nothing much else came out. They were doing what they were supposed to do but Levi felt like a fish out of water.

With time and the right prodding, his thoughts flew back to Hange’s words just yesterday. Maybe she had been right. They were at the mercy of circumstances.

An hour or so could have passed before Zeke sauntered back into their table with Erwin trailing behind. Zeke slammed both hands on the table in some strange greeting. "Did you have our chauffeur pick your phone up?"

Hange looked up at Zeke, her expression unreadable. "No, I didn’t.”

Zeke had the face of a wounded monkey. “So you really don’t plan on joining the testing?”

Hange shrugged. “I’m fine just helping out here. I’ve done enough testing with the app already.”

“I want to test it with you,” Zeke said.

Hange returned Zeke’s look with her own consoling one. “We could always try it together another time?” She suggested.

Zeke didn’t seem satisfied. “I’ll call someone to bring it over.” He pulled out his phone.

Hange put her hands up in defense. “No need, besides, there might be something wrong with my phone. I plan on having it checked.”

“You could use one of the test devices here?” Erwin suggested.

A very unwelcome suggestion. Levi was tempted to look at Erwin, shooting daggers with his stare. Instead he bent over, just a little hiding his face behind the laptop screen.

“No no, don’t trouble yourself, other people might need it more,” Hange said.

"We could always buy a new phone?" Zeke seemed pretty certain about his suggestion. He had pulled out his phone as he spoke.

If Levi had been drinking then, he could have spit it out. Instead he had to settle for choking on his own saliva. What?

Erwin raised both eyebrows in shock. "Mr. Jaeger, do you mean buying a new phone for testing? We have a few test devices here. You shouldn't put yourself thought the trou--"

Zeke shook his head. "Believe me it's no trouble." He started to type. "Leave the test devices for people who actually need them. Buying a phone is no problem for me.”

Hange had opened her mouth to protest. Something could have caught at her throat and she looked back down at her laptop. She started to type faster, much faster than a while ago. The quick and off rhythm clack of the keyboard mixed with Zeke’s very firm orders at whoever poor sap was on the phone.

“Any particular model you’d like?” Zeke asked.

Hange shook her head. “You know my stand on this Zeke.”

“It’s a quick test,” Zeke justified. Seeming unbothered, he turned to Levi. “What type of model does the love alarm work best in?”

Erwin had been looking at him expectantly then and Levi found himself dropping a typical model, muttering it under his breath.

It hadn’t done much anyway. Zeke acted as if he hadn't been listening to Levi in the first place. Maybe he hadn't, his focus completely on whoever he was talking to on the phone. “Just buy the best model available and get it down here stat... Money won’t be a problem.”

Still, it was a total waste of money. Levi snuck a glare at Zeke from just above his laptop and a part of him was hoping he had gotten the message.

It was just like Erwin to find a diplomatic way to make his own thoughts known. “You really didn’t have to go through the trouble. We have some working phones which Hange could have borrowed.”

Zeke put one finger up as if to silence Erwin. “I think it’s a fair price for convenience. Besides, if your phone is broken, better to replace it right?" He turned to Hange with those last words.

To Levi, it seemed almost like a challenge.

A challenge to what? There were too many things running through his brain, useless things like estimations of phone prices and a price that would have meant installments to most people, so casually dropped by someone as insufferable as Zeke Jaeger.

He didn't trust himself to speak. So he encoded the last few papers in front of him onto their electronic sheet, slowly yet very carefully, willing his eyes to run through each number multiple times.

His brain was barely moving though.

When the new stack of papers came, care of Eld, Levi was an odd mix between grateful and exasperated.

When Zeke invited Hange out for lunch, he was an odd mix between relieved and just slightly offended.

By what? Of course Zeke wouldn't invite him.

Still, maybe it hurt just a little bit to have the seat next to him empty.

***

Levi settled for a lunch of a sandwich and whatever drink he got his hands on first. Nutrition facts and long term consequences to his overall health could wait another few decades.

Just like with toilet breaks, Levi went for the farther convenience store for no specific reason. Maybe to see a little more green or to allow himself some brain space to think and walk.

And maybe to run into Hange and Zeke again. He found himself thinking back to Hange at the hotel restaurant. It had happened only last Friday but somehow, it had felt like ages ago.

He shifted his gaze, looking subtly through cafe windows, searching for a mop of brown hair or maybe the well kept golden blonde. He came up with nothing.

With time, he gave up, and turned back to the school, passing through one of the nearby entrances, quietly looking through the map on his phone for assurance that he was still on the right path back.

The uniforms were the first sign he was on the right path. The students that had strolled purposefully through the characteristic red brick roads of the school were another sign.

All he had to do was follow the signs to make it back to the gym.

And as he walked on, he noticed other signs, like people with their phones held up, as if looking for an app, maybe? He couldn't be too sure. That was until he noticed two people hunched over, screaming obscenities about love, relationships and some ridiculous app, to surmise he must be nearby.

"Why the hell did it ring?"

"Relax Connie, it's just an app."

"Just in case you forgot, you're in a relationship. Niccolo could kill me for this."

Levi looked back fast enough to catch the nonchalant shrug of the brunette.

"He won't," the brunette continued. "Besides, who cares about what an app says. I already committed to a relationship with him ----”

“I care!”

“Okay then,” She looked dumbfounded or maybe that had been her natural face. She paused for a second, looking upward, seeming deep in thought before she spoke up again. “Why are you so worked up over this?”

There was a bench nearby and for a good few seconds, Levi was eyeing it, especially while the two young students continued to chatter on about his application. The conversation got a little more interesting and it had been all the easier to decide to take a moment to settle on the bench and scroll through his own phone.

“Sasha, tell me… What did you put in the questionnaire.” Connie asked, only confirming the girl’s name for Levi.

“Isn’t that confidential?” Sasha challenged.

Technically it was confidential. Levi had to note and the two were talking in such a recklessly loud manner and even Levi a good few feet away was within earshot. Just to seem less like a peeping Tom, he put both earbuds on.

“I said I trusted you, that I’m happy with you. I think about you a lot. Maybe that’s why it rang for me.”

Levi noticed it from his peripherals, the way the girl named Sasha tensed up and froze on the spot. He found himself cheering silently for the young boy.

Connie, that’s his name right?

“Connie, we’ve been best friends for years… Of course I’d feel the same way about you.”

“So… If the alarm rang for both of us…” Connie never finished his sentence. Or maybe he did, his voice had slowly deadened into murmurs and in response.

Sasha’s jaw dropped, reminiscent of only Hange’s face just yesterday when they separated by the boarding gate.

In shock? In confusion? There were only too many reasons for that expression but Levi was feeling conservative with his guesses. They were a bunch of teenagers, what did they know about love and relationships?

Sasha’s expression softened into a kind smile. “We’ve been best friends for years...even if it is true…”

Their voices had softened to a whisper as the conversation only got more and more serious and Levi was starting not to make out most of what they were saying. He did notice though how she mentioned something about a man named Niccolo, something about a choice to date someone.

And he concluded, maybe it was for the better that he left the two alone to discuss their problems.

He silently scolded himself for even getting invested in that conversation in the first place.

***

Whatever results Connie and Sasha gave were completely anonymous and as Levi scrolled through the datasets on the sheet, he felt almost guilty for prying so deeply into some stranger's personal business. Embarrassingly, it had reached a point where he had been invested enough to guess which of the results were theirs based on the conversation a while ago.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he let the guilt take over and he stopped himself. Instead, he turned back to the stack of papers that needed encoding.

Maybe one of the papers is there. Levi guessed then he mentally slapped himself for that bout of desperation.

“You should put a minimum age on this Love Alarm app.”

Levi looked up to see Hange had pulled back the seat and settled down next to him. “Why?” he asked. The question seemed more for posterity. Levi was starting to guess the answer himself.

“On the way back from lunch, we ran into a few students fighting.” She chuckled, her voice was light, her tone almost mischievous. “It looks like the love alarm might have started some drama.”

Levi wondered how she could even manage such a conversation when there were more pressing matters on hand. Still, he decided to engage. “I ran into two kids outside too. They were talking about their results with the love alarm.”

Hange raised one eyebrow in interest. “Oh?”

“And one of them’s in a relationship already.” Soon after those words leaked out, Levi wondered if he should have even admitted it. They seemed too painfully familiar.

“So, it just proves, even in a committed relationship, it could ring. Right?” Hange asked.

“Of course it would. The love alarm wouldn’t be able to tell if you’re in a relationship right?” Levi responded. “All the app measures is…” Love. He was careful that second time around. “Compatibility. Unable to multitask at that moment, he dropped his hand right next to the laptop. He looked to Hange, only to notice she hadn’t even started on the second stack yet.

Her eyes were on him and she was still looking very much invested in the conversation. “And I told you, I think your app is working fine.”

Levi continued. “But they’re high school students.”

“Are you saying high school students aren’t capable of love?”

Levi almost choked on his own saliva. “What? No, I never said that.” He took a deep breath. “But there are nuances when considering compatibilities right, something people wouldn’t figure out for themselves early in life.”

“Your application is able to detect those nuances even if people aren’t aware of it themselves then. Going back to those two kids you ran into, let’s assume the love alarm was correct and those two really were compatible with each other. Explain the situation Levi.”

Levi had to pick at his brain. He had to do and undo knots from inside him so maybe it had taken him a bit longer to get those words out. He stared in front of him, trying to find organization in the way Petra had guided the new set of volunteers in.

Luckily, Hange had been patient.

He didn’t spend too much time wondering how long he had made her wait, he looked up at her, and leaned his cheek further into the palm of his hand. He spoke up. “One of them is in a relationship already. Her name is Sasha. The other one—I think his name is Connie— is a childhood friend.”

“Oh, childhood friends to lovers huh?” Hange gestured playfully for him to continue speaking.

Levi had momentum in the conversation, so he willed himself to continue. “And it rang for both of them, and they were talking about it. I couldn’t tell too much from the conversation but---”

“Do you think Sasha would leave her boyfriend just because the love alarm rang?” Hange could have been a mind reader and it was just like her to go straight to the point. Her voice was a little louder. At that point, she leaned back on her chair, and stared straight ahead. Her expression was painfully unreadable.

That had shortened Levi’s tirade by minutes, maybe seconds. That unexpected query left Levi frozen for a while.

“Should a love alarm ringing be worth two people reconsidering long term relationships?” Hange pressed.

Even if he didn’t have an answer for himself. Levi bit his lip and stared straight ahead. It was an easy enough question to answer, a very logical one. All he had to do was look back at whatever snippets he got of the conversation back in the schoolyard to grasp for some right answer.

Even if it is true, we made our choices. And a high school student admitting that of all things, should have been a glaring sign that maybe Levi had been a little immature, having been bothered by the prospect of ‘love being a choice’ for so long.

No, a love alarm shouldn’t be worth it. Levi had opened his mouth, ready to answer it with a simple and most objectively correct answer.

Even if the love alarm was correct, we made our choices. He had accepted it already weeks back, a sad kind of happiness.

Acceptance. But why was a part of him still resisting? He was looking for something. He looked back at Hange who sat, unmoving, he continued to search for it, studying whatever features his eyes would land on, from her cold eyes right until her pursed lips.

Acceptance. Levi repeated to himself. That had been enough to quell the drive to search within him

“Is a loving alarm ringing, really worth it?” Hange asked again. She had more to say, it was very much apparent in her cold professional demeanor. He could have sworn he saw something else, something that made him reflect on whether that question had been rhetorical or whether Hange really expected him to answer.

Worth throwing our lives away? Levi finished the sentence for her in his head and he almost regretted it. His heart ached, he found himself almost unable to breathe. It had been a miracle he managed to continue speaking.

Acceptance. He had accepted it a long time ago already. Maybe that had been the reason he had still managed to look her in the eye then. Levi took a deep breath. “It isn’t,” he admitted.

Hange dropped her shoulders and leaned back on the chair. She closed her eyes and let out an exhale.

A natural response to the thick tension between them. Still, something inside him was desperate for an inkling of her truth and he continued to search.

Hange looked back at him. In those few seconds, she had managed to compose herself and Levi was just having a much harder time reading her.

She spoke up again. “Are you okay?”

“No I’m not,” Levi admitted.

“Is there anything else you wanna talk about?” Hange was once again cold and professional.

Brushing away disappointment, Levi shook his head. “No. Let’s go back to work.” It looked like that 'casual' conversation had taken some turn for the worse and he was just a little tired from that.

***

After an hour or so, Levi had attempted again to loosen whatever tension blanketed both of them with another light conversation topic.

The few times he tried, he was interrupted. Events were only happening one after the other and he was starting to realize how difficult it was to keep a calm and disconnected conversation. Every other few minutes, they were coming at him with new reports, new stacks of paper, new developments.

“This is the last time we’re testing on high school students,” Levi muttered. He was almost relieved their last conversation had ended on an abrupt note. Maybe that wasn’t a conversation they should have been reaching in such a hectic situation.

“I’ll tell Zeke about this,” Hange responded calmly.

A huge chunk of Levi’s attention was on the scene in front of him just a few rows back There were, two girls, a small blonde and a dark lanky brunette a few inches taller, right next to them was a burly blond man. The blond man seemed almost devastated, the brunette seemed defensive and it looked like the small blond girl was trying to pacify both of them with a rattled Oluo in tow.

“How did you even convince a bunch of high school students to volunteer to test the app?” Levi asked half heartedly. That seemed like a casual conversation starter. He kept a good amount of his focus to his side, just in case Hange spoke up, he wouldn’t miss it.

Hange put one finger to her chin. "Zeke was pretty smart about it…” He pointed out something. "Teenagers are very simple minded yet very cynical at the same time. Just put the right bribe in front of them, concert tickets, front row tickets to a game in exchange for testing some product which seemingly tests their status with love? Most teenagers took the bait. " She grinned and spoke up again, her tone a little higher. “What can a simple phone app say about something as complex as love? Besides, the love alarm is a pretty harmless app right?”

She didn't really believe that right?

I mean, technically it is. Theoretically, all it did was measure compatibility. Most people should have chalked it up to something similar to horoscopes, superstitions or fortune telling. That information was on a nice-to-know basis but not necessarily life changing.

Levi only had to look ahead again to be reminded, maybe the Love Alarm just had that effect on people. Maybe users were underestimating their own ability to be unaffected by some reading on an application. The success of the Love Alarm was enough of an answer. The proliferation of app usage in the dating sphere was another hint. And the love alarm and the emotions alarm having some reign over Levi’s moods lately should have been another huge, visceral hint.

Levi set aside that last hint as soon as he articulated it in his mind. Instead, he turned his thoughts to an exhausted Oluo who was making his way to the table.

"This is a good lesson boss. We really should put a minimum age restriction on this," Oluo said as he sat back down on the chair next to Levi, seeming completely spent.

"You're not the first one to tell me that," Levi responded.

"You see that couple there? That small girl and that brown haired girl are in a relationship already. And that big guy, he has a thing for the small girl," Oluo explained. It looked like he had tried to keep a facade of disinterest, a shoddy one.

Levi saw easily through it. "I can see that." He kept his own tone seemingly unaffected. He wondered if it showed.

Either way, Oluo seemed too invested in whatever love stories he was speculating. "And the love alarm just made things slightly… complicated."

Levi narrowed his eyes, following the trio that only a while ago had been fighting.

He focused then on the brunette and the blonde, the subtle way they held hands, the wide eyed, seemingly permanent smile on the small blonde’s face. The brunette on the other hand seemed to wear a permanent scowl on her face. That was, unless she was staring at the smaller girl. He then looked down at the two hands, held close to each other.

He shook his head when he realized he had been staring at it for a little too long. He looked back at the burly blonde man, who stepped back, seeming disappointed, almost embarrassed.

"It helps articulate emotions. That’s the point of the Love Alarm because some people don’t even know they’re feeling something until someone—or something points it out right?" He turned almost instinctively back to Hange, only to feel a slight drop in his stomach.

Hange didn’t look back at him, seeming focused on whatever was in front of her. Her concentration made it difficult to see what had caught her eye.

Oluo continued. "There are two blondes over there. I think their names were Aaron… Arnie…? Anyway they have almost similar names." He subtly pointed towards another pair.

Still, it had been easy for Levi to trace the view to the two blondes next to each other, seeming nervous as they made their way through the crowd then to the table with the questionnaires. There was an awkward air about them, but he couldn’t help but notice the subtle smile plastered on both of their faces.

It only pushed Levi to look more closely at the papers as they were submitted to Petra. Petra had conveniently piled them on top of the stack and Levi followed it all the way until the mods table.

He looked over the answers.

All Yes boxes were ticked. Did they trust each other? Yes. Did they think about each other a lot? Yes. Levi double checked the question on the remarks filled up by a facilitator.

Did the love alarm ring? The ‘Yes’ box was ticked on both papers

"It looks like the Love Alarm can tie up romantic loose ends," Hange commented.

Levi only noticed when she had spoken up that she had craned her neck to read the questionnaire next to him. It looked like she had been listening the whole time. She gestured towards the exit of the gym where the two blondes seemed to be deep in conversation. From the distance, he noticed the red tint in both of their cheeks.

Then one raised their hand slightly, the other clutched it. Then Levi conceded, there was some truth to Hange’s comment. But he was tempted to challenge it. "Maybe because they mustered the courage to confess," Levi suggested as he encoded the numbers onto the spreadsheet. “They allowed themselves to feel whatever they were actually feeling.”

"Well, circumstances were in their favor right? I'm sure there are a lot more cases where just admitting would be slightly more complicated than that, like those two kids you mentioned a while ago."

Levi turned towards Hange, keeping his face as serious as possible. "I wanna know, why would admitting it be hard?"

Hange hummed "Rejection maybe?" Her face seemed innocent, mockingly innocent.

A little ticked, Levi was uncharacteristically in the mood for a little back and forth. "You've been talking about reading and acting on circumstances so many times this past weekend, I'm sure you know it's not always about rejection."

For the first time in a while, Levi was raring to talk. From the messy facade of disconnect, Hange’s expression shifted to that of hesitance, nervousness. For a good few moments, she was frozen on her seat. And he started to realize why he had been so strangely talkative since a while ago.

He was in a strange state of mind, he desperately wanted answers to questions he couldn’t yet articulate. Was he just not satisfied? Or was Hange just deliberately not giving them?

"Do you think it's embarrassing to feel something for someone?" Levi broke the silence with one question he managed to forage from the back of his mind.

Hange answered with a quick sentence. “No, it’s not.”

"Of course it's not, but when you think about your situation and you realize you’re not supposed to be feeling a certain way... Should you be ashamed about feeling that way?" He pressed.

"We can't assume how we feel right? Before we even delve into that, we have to consider whether or not we really feel that emotion right?"

"But when we’re sure we already feel it,” Levi clarified.

"But if you allow your emotions to play a part, all you do is muddle your own ability to analyze. I think everyone should analyze the situation first with a very cal—"

"I think that's pride," Levi said firmly. "I think pride is refusing to let yourself feel it in the first place."

Hänge hummed. "Well, then assuming that circumstances are so simple that you can just feel whatever you want… that's prejudice right? You only get past initial prejudice when you learn to analyze what's beyond the situation. The more you know, the more you understand, the freer you are."

"But you're only free if you let yourself feel, then after that, you let yourself understand," Levi said. So maybe just letting go, enough to let yourself feel, maybe that's freedom?"

Hange shook her head. "Thinking while letting your emotions run free? It's not that easy. You’re just gonna end up a slave to your emotions."

“Well, would I rather be a slave to my cold calculating brain or to my emotions? We can’t control emotions. We can’t control circumstances either. So what now?” Levi said, looking pointedly at Hange. He only realized then when the hoarseness of his throat caught up to him, that somewhere along the way he had raised his voice.

Hange’s eyes were wide and when she spoke up again, her voice was notably softer. It looked like she had raised her voice as well. “I assess the situation, and then I decide what to feel, what to do.”

Levi sighed. "Hange, I have another theory,” he started. “What if freedom is acting logically and objectively despite emotions?" He only noticed it soon after, he had adopted Hange’s mannerisms with those last few sentences.

Hange seemed unsurprised. She shook her head. “You can take control of your emotions more easily than your circumstances.”

"I don’t agree with that. No one can control how they feel. So I don’t think anyone should be ashamed of how they feel? Why do people have to stop themselves from feeling?" Levi asked. "Connie, that guy I ran into, the love alarm rang... They're best friends...there's acceptance there… isn't what's important is what we do with the feelings? I understand the circumstan—"

"Do you really understand it Levi?" Hange asked. She gestured with her face towards what was in front of them. The voices, the background noise became somewhat clearer as he watched the scuffle in front of him.

Levi huffed. “I understand that the Love Alarm isn’t enough reason for anyone to switch up their relationships…”

Sasha’s words echoed in his head. We’ve been best friends for years...even if it is true…

He continued. “But if the love alarm was correct, if the love were true, real… shouldn’t the users just accept these feelings for what they are?” Levi only noticed it a second later, when his eyes had locked on Hange that he had mimicked her position, leaning back on the chair. “Is it really so wrong to just accept sometimes, that love is an emotion and sometimes we just can’t control how we feel right? Maybe there is still a lot we can learn from an unrequited love.”

Hange furrowed her eyebrows. “We?”

“‘We’ as in every single person, who ever had to deal with an unrequited love.”

Hange didn't respond to that, she made some other excuse about how they had to work on the next set of results conveniently stacked in front of them.

Another attempt at some light conversation had left Levi winded. The words on the paper then on the screen were starting to blur amongst one another. His head was starting to throb. He found himself lowering the screen of his laptop just a bit and staring straight ahead, just for a break from the soft white glare.

He snuck a glance at Hange, who seemed just a little exhausted as well, her shoulders dropped, her wrists falling more recklessly onto the table as she typed.

The more people that filed in through the entrance, the more Levi realized it was a busy day. They shouldn't have been spending too much time discussing the relationships of people they would never see again. They shouldn’t have spent too much time discussing some useless philosophy on love when there were more pressing things to deal with.

Levi couldn't help but wonder. How the hell did all of their light conversation topics end up so heavy?

Or maybe he was the only one feeling that way. It looked like Hange had recovered first from that casual conversation turned deep. She looked up in one swift movement and spoke up, breaking the ringing silence between them. "That's Eren, Zeke's brother," she subtly pointed her thumb towards the side and Levi had to crane his neck to see behind her.

It wasn't too hard to pick him up. Eren was a tall teenager and he was followed by a young girl with chin length hair and an almost demanding presence despite being a little shorter.

"And that's Mikasa, his best friend,” Hange added.

Levi followed Eren with his eyes to see that he had gone to that corner just to talk to Zeke. Whatever they were talking about, he couldn't tell much from his end.

He looked to Hange for answers.

There was a flash of excitement in her eyes and she looked very much like she was holding in some interesting story, torn between speaking and watching the developments closely.

"You wanna tell me about them?" Levi asked when the anticipation finally became unbearable.

Hange seemed particularly focused as she watched Zeke and Eren talk. Levi even guessed that she may have heard that hushed conversation between them.

"He and Mikasa have been best friends for years… You know it's funny, her last name is Ackerman too. Are you related?" She commented

Levi never had enough bougie connections to have any cousins in swanky private schools so he brushed that question away. "Okay, what about them?"

Hange tapped one hand on the space between them on the table then pointed their way as Mikasa and Eren started to tap at their phones, with Petra looking like she was explaining something on her own phone.

They were downloading the app.

A young boy, a few inches taller than Eren joined the crowd. Levi followed the taller boy's gaze as they landed on Mikasa.

He tried to make sense of the conversation. Lip reading had never been his forte though.

"I don't recognize the taller guy," Hange admitted.

It was someone else who answered the question. "That's one of Eren's friends, Jean."

Levi turned behind him to see Zeke, the latter making his way to the seat on the other side of Hange. And just like that, Hange had turned away from him and started to engage with Zeke. When Hange willed it, it looked like she had a way of just making her voice unintelligible to him. Levi considered craning his neck, just to pick up some of the conversation, yet it seemed almost intruding.

That was Zeke and Hange’s conversation not his.

So he stared at the trio in front of him. When he had nothing else to do but encode the stack of papers next to him or make some mental detour about how they should automate such an archaic process, he found it easy to remember the names of the three kids, all an even distance away from each other, their eyes all on their phones.

Eren, Mikasa and Jean. Levi leaned back and watched the events in front of him unfold.

The gym was a constant slew of echoes and alarms and he couldn’t really tell the exact alarm that could have been from any of the three of them. He had to rely on expressions.

Jean turned a bright red. Mikasa had made a seemingly apologetic look at Jean. Then at Eren?

Eren didn’t blush, but he had seemed a little uncomfortable at the turn of events, apparent in the way he had tensed up, the way he turned his head sharply towards Jean.

Mikasa walked in between both boys, holding her hands up as if to separate the two. Maybe the dark glare she had given both boys had done the trick. The tension remained but there seemed little to no threat of a scuffle anymore.

Somewhere along the way, Eld had appeared next to the three with six sheets of paper and three pens. Eren came from behind Mikasa, walking notably nearer to her than a while ago.

They were whispering. Mikasa turned behind her to Jean who was following behind, a wide eyed look on her face and soon after Eld left, Zeke appeared next to Eren. He looked like he was pacifying the young teenager while the latter had gripped at his two sheets a little too hard.

Talking to him? Advising him? Levi didn’t ponder for long. He decided he didn’t want to think about Zeke.

“Zeke filled me in.” Of all things, that had been Hange’s conversation starter.

Levi didn’t know if he should be grateful or just irritated that of all things Hange had to mention him. “Go on,” he said as if just speaking would be enough to get rid of that twinge of irritation.

“It looks like Eren doesn’t know yet that he likes Mikasa. Or that’s Zeke’s speculation. So Zeke expected it to ring.”

“Wow, your husband takes the time out of his busy schedule to actually speculate on the love life of his younger brother.” Levi attempted not to lace his tone with sarcasm. As it turned out, even a sentence like that sounding emotionless or even friendly would seem sarcastic.

If Hange did notice it, she ignored it. “With the looks on their faces, I’m guessing it did ring.”

“For both of them?”

“For both of them maybe,” Hange said.

Another stack of papers were dropped in front of them, a few greetings were exchanged care of Gunther and once again, Levi was sifting through the pile for the more crumpled papers.

There were no names but he could make an intelligent guess. The crumpled papers were Eren’s definitely.

Did the alarm ring with your partner? Yes.

Just under it were two more papers.

Did the alarm ring? Yes.

“That looks like Eren’s hand writing, and that one’s Mikasa,” Hange pointed out. “I knew it.”

“So this means, Mikasa’s alarm rang with both Eren and Jean,” Levi said as he ran his hands over the papers.

Did the alarm ring? Yes.

“Then maybe, Jean’s alarm rang with Mikasa?” Hange guessed, giving him an expectant look. “Jean is one of Eren’s close friends from school apparently, and according to Zeke, he has the hots for Mikasa too.”

Levi looked at Hange. Her eyebrows were raised, her mouth played into a wide grin and for just a second, Levi could have felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Well who do you think Mikasa will pick?”

“That’s her choice right?”

“Zeke told me, one reason he wanted to test the love alarm here was to get his brother in one place with all the others who were crushing on Mikasa. He wanted Eren and Mikasa to realize something. Something that only the Love Alarm can prove maybe?"

"Love? Yearning?" Levi was spouting all too familiar emotions, or more specifically, he was spitting them out, like they were laced with poison.

Hange shrugged. "The love alarm causes chaos but sometimes it can tie loose ends."

Something inside him snapped. "Then why the fuck bring it up if you're just gonna answer with something vague."

Hange didn't seem surprised at all, and the more Levi stared, the more he realized he would have been annoyed either way.

A surprised Hange meant she probably didn't care. An expectant Hange meant she was hiding something.

"Levi…" Hange started. She took her time saying his name but she didn't say much else afterwards as if she was at a loss for words.

"We've been talking since a while ago. " Levi asked. "I wanna know, what are you trying to tell me? There must be a point to all these conversations."

"There's a point to this."

"Then, What. Is. It." Levi challenged.

"I told you, I don't want to rely on this love alarm to tell me how to feel. I want to decide how to feel."

"Want?"

"I will not allow it to tell me how I feel."

"Then I guess we won't agree. Look, I don't care about changing our circumstances right now. I don't give a fuck if after all this you leave." Levi mustered up some courage to look up at Hange.

She seemed lost in thought, yet at the same time, she seemed to be staring straight into him.

Levi only saw it as opportunity to continue but he was a little more careful that time, letting his voice soften into a whisper. "The most I want out of you is just some proof that this love alarm thing wasn't a sham. You said it yourself, it's not a bug right? Why did you say that? Why did you say that and now you're suddenly pretending that nothing happened?"

Hange opened her mouth to speak and she couldn't have gone any slower. He would have liked to blame the anticipation at first, the thick heavy tension that only made it harder to move.

When a box dropped in between both of them with a thump, Levi concluded, Hange had just been slow, fucking slow.

"We have a new phone. Download the app in, let's test," Zeke ordered. Who the hell was he ordering at that moment? Levi and Hange both couldn't tell.

Yet, their responses were surprisingly coordinated. Hange went for the box, quickly unwrapping it. Levi went for his laptop, pulling credentials from the system and a download link to be sent to the new phone.

It was only halfway through, when he was sending over the link did he notice it. Reciting the log-in details, he was only silently and peacefully walking to whatever chaos awaited them at the end. Yet, somehow he couldn't stop. Hange had seemed accepting too, overly professional about the whole process of testing and possibly inadvertently exposing her strange yet very personal love alarm results.

Around the time when Hange was going through the biometrics, Levi thought it polite to resist just a little. "You sure you wanna go through with this?"

"Who said I wanted to?" Hange asked.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, what do we tell Zeke then?"

Levi couldn't think up a response to that so he kept quiet. He let his mind wander. Then he agreed it wasn't a matter of Hange wanting to do something.

It was a matter of Zeke getting what he wanted.

Levi couldn't sit still. He couldn't bring himself to even get past the first paper on his new pile. His eyes were on the screen in front of him but he had snuck glances just above him towards the crowds of people so often that he might as well have just been looking ahead.

Eventually, he dropped the pile, gave up on getting any more done. He lost all self consciousness and just looked straight ahead.

It felt like he was watching an execution. It could have been his own execution, Hange’s execution or maybe even the whole company’s in slow motion.

He couldn't answer that particular question yet. With time, maybe he could. All he had to do was get past the few minutes that seemed like years, even decades.

Zeke was taking his sweet time, murmuring sweet nothings to Hange and Hange had taken her sweet time double checking those fucking biometrics. To the point where Levi actually spent a good amount of time brainstorming how to streamline the whole registration process.

The build up had been unbearably slow. Fucking slow. Petra stood next to them, preparing two sheets of paper and Levi found himself passing the time trying to answer it in his head.

The climax came very anticlimactically.

There were less people in the gym already, especially so late in the day. So when Levi craned his neck to hear it, he could almost pick it out, that one ring on their side of the gym. He only surmised that Hange's alarm rang when he noticed the way Zeke had wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brows.

Hange's back was to the moderator's table so Levi couldn't make out her face, as desperate as he was to know.

He wasn't that desperate yet. In fact, his own reaction to the chain of events didn't come as quickly as he had wanted to. Of all things, it had been Erwin’s expectant stare, the uncharacteristic panic in his eyes that had Levi standing.

“Levi could you check up on them?” It was Erwin’s order that had Levi making his way to them.

It had been the look of panic in Petra’s face that had him speeding up. And the closer he got, the more he realized how much he had wanted to see Hange’s face.

But business came first. “It looks like there’s still something wrong with the app.” Zeke’s words had surprisingly been polite. Levi’s first instinct was to search for the venom and the sarcasm and maybe he had sensed some.

For a mainly back office employee, diplomacy had seemed like the hardest part. There were only two things Levi would have been most comfortable doing then: turn to Petra and have her do the speaking or step forward, look back and take a peak at Hange who had stood unmoving since the alarm rang.

A sense of obligation was all he needed to meet Zeke’s eyes. He had to clench his jaw, he had to narrow his eyes just to keep some grip on the situation.

And it might only get worse.

He stepped forward, a few more steps then past Hange and it was only getting harder not to look back.

Zeke’s presence was domineering. His money, his power over whatever work Levi was doing was an unignorable reality. “It looks like the Love Alarm might not be working as expected," he said calmly.

Levi had his months worth of research and testing to look back to. And one thought, one long split second later, one deep breath later, he let it out, not confidently but just professional enough to at least get his point across.

“It’s working as expected,” Levi mustered. How many ways could he say something like that without insulting a billionaire? He wondered what Erwin would have said, what Hange would have said, what crazy lingo their marketing or public relations team would have come up with. Levi though had been the one who had slaved for years over that application. He would have been the only one to know the gravity of such a statement. “The love alarm is working as expected,” he repeated, just in case the message didn’t come across.

Maybe it didn’t. Zeke narrowed his eyes. “How can you be sure? Have you done the proper testing?”

“We’ve been testing this for months. Mr. Jaeger, it’s working as expected,” Levi repeated. He willed himself to keep the tone at the least, emotionless. At that moment, when he was also resisting the urge to look back at Hange it had been almost an impossible task.

Zeke let out one exhale. Then, his voice was soft, almost deathly cold. “Would you like to test again Mr. Ackerman?”

Test? Levi let his mouth drop just half way down. “Here?”

“You've taken a liking to Hange haven't you? I heard about it, if I've not noticed it myself.

Heard from who? Asking questions, Levi knew he would be only delaying the inevitable and a part of him wanted to delay it.

“Levi go turn on your Love Alarm,” Erwin ordered.

At the least, he had an excuse to look back. He caught Hange behind him for a split second. Her face was a strange mix between utter acceptance. The more Levi looked though, the easier it had been to pick out something else. A hint of pleading, too small that it could have been his imagination.

Levi looked away.

And Erwin wasn’t allowing him a second look. “Levi, is something wrong?” It wasn’t a question of concern. Levi had know Erwin enough to guess, it was merely a nice way of telling him to hurry.

Levi pulled his phone from his pocket, navigated to the application and activated in one quick motion. If he spared any more time, he might just hesitate.

There were three separate rings that filled the dead air between the four of them. At first, Levi had attributed the profundity, the implicit ringing in his ears to just the weight of the moment. Time was moving at a snail’s pace and by the time he had come to his senses, by the time Zeke had brought out his phone turning the empty screen towards him, Levi was suddenly aware that there were only three rings that graced the whole gym.

The gym had gone silent. All eyes were on them and the ringing of the three arms only continued, supplemented by whatever echoes followed.

And it would only continue unless someone moved to turn off their love alarm. Even in complete shock, Levi surmised that much.

Erwin had been the first to have composed himself. He took one to step back, then a few more. Then he was completely out of range of the love alarm.

The three alarms continued to ring.

Zeke was next to move. His face was completely unreadable and he had bent his head down, his eyes seeming glued to the screen.

From that angle, Levi could never be too sure of Zeke’s reaction.

Zeke eventually looked up, his face cold, almost expressionless. He held his phone up, only dangling it from the ground by three fingers.

The contents though were what had Levi still struggling to move. It had been expected, but to see it in the silence, when the air around them was heavy, when they were under close watch by tens if not hundreds of people, that had only served to make his stomach drop.

Zeke deactivated the alarm, and the alarm, barren of any hearts, shifted back to the title screen.

One sound disappeared. Two were left. And when everything else was silent, Levi couldn’t help but grovel silently at how annoyingly loud the ringing actually was.

He looked back at Hange. She had stood quiet and unmoving those few moments that seemed to last an eternity. When Levi looked back though, their gazes locked almost instantly.

Hange’s eyes were wide, her mouth pursed into some lopsided line and when Levi looked closer, he could have sworn he saw that flash of pleading again.

Pleading for what?

In such a fast paced world, on a Monday of all days, there was not much time to ponder. He had felt almost guilty staring, finding some way to placate her with his eyes alone. Eventually they were escorted out. Hange and Zeke went ahead and Hange as usual, had Zeke’s strong protective arm around her.

“Levi, we’re going to have to discuss this,” Erwin said. He walked ahead, gesturing for Levi to follow behind.

As always, Levi followed, slowly and sluggishly. It took him a minute more to realize he had almost forgotten to turn off the alarm.

***

“There’s no bug,” Levi repeated again. He attempted to compose himself but there was only so much he could do when he was the only one standing in the small conference room.

Zeke had settled on the sofa and as expected, no one protested. He put one hand to his chin, in mock surprise. “I could have sworn it had been working a few months ago.”

“We had a test build.” Hange spoke up from next to him, her voice was soft. It lacked the melody it usually had. “We needed the funds to continue digging into that bug so we created a build… for extra testing.”

“And I would have gladly given the funds either way,” Zeke said. “The burning question is, did you even find the bug?”

“There’s. No. Bug.” Levi kept his tone firm and professional. He wondered if the venom had made it out of his mouth.

“You gave up pretty fast,” Zeke commented.

And that was the moment Levi realized, there were things Zeke might never understand about the testing process. It was a complete waste of time explaining the difficulty of labor to someone who treated an ordinary person’s full time job as just another vessel for investment.

“Tell me, Mr. Ackerman. If there’s no bug, can you explain to me the reason behind the strange behavior of the application?” Zeke said.

The question had come as a challenge, something Levi was in no mood to take. When Erwin was giving him a long side eyed glance, he knew he’d have to make something work.

“It tests compatibility,” Levi said. “How well people would probably make as a pair, the potential to… get together.” He found himself dancing around definitions, avoiding the word ‘love’ like a plague.

But that wasn’t love. He would rather it wasn't love. Then and there, he almost considered applying for a name change.

“Zeke, love is a choice,” Hange said. “Whatever result the application gives is never going to affect this relationship. I wouldn’t let it.”

“Can you explain then why you have so much faith in this application then?”

Hange turned to Levi and nodded. “It has potential.”

“Potential for further research. You told me that before,” Zeke’s voice was only getting louder. “But can you really trust this application, this developer, after he inadvertently confesses, after your own application rings for him. And he refuses to admit to a bug.”

“Because it’s not a bug,” Hange said. “I was testing with him, I know.”

“So are you saying you’re in love with Mr. Ackerman?”

Hange dropped her shoulders, then looked straight ahead. “In another life, maybe we could have been compatible. If things didn’t end the way it did, maybe Levi and I could have gotten together and we would have been happy. I think that’s what the love alarm meant to say. Circumstances are different though. I’m married to you. I am committed to you.”

“But, are you in love with him?” Zeke pressed.

Hange shook her head. “I don’t think the Love Alarm measures love. It measures emotions, compatibility. Zeke, this thing between is, it's something we built overtime, something we grew together?”

Zeke narrowed his eyes at Hange and Levi followed his eyes back to her to see that pleading expression once again. Hange was still pleading, that time that expression was directed towards Zeke.

“Is it, Hange? Is love something which grows over time?” Zeke pressed.

Levi noticed Hange's face had fallen, her eyes widened but the pleading in her expression only grew. Then Levi made a silent yet outrageous guess.

Hange was pleading. Pleading for answers?

Zeke turned to Erwin then to Levi, his eyes once again cold and serious. "Can you give me and Hange some space first? We need to discuss something."

Maybe Zeke had guessed something similar and as Erwin led Levi out of the room, he was starting to accept that he might never know. Levi’s legs were heavy. The glass door had difficult to pull close and when he had shut the door behind him with a click, he felt like he had been lifting weights.

Or maybe he was just finding an excuse not to leave. There was that in between, something similar to the desolation of rejection and another pathetic emotion.

Denial. There was more to their circumstances for sure. Hange’s strange expression, the wide eyes, the almost seemingly curious glimmer and the pleading that never seemed to fall away.

Out of curiosity, or even desperation, Levi ended up waiting outside for a second longer, positioning himself somewhere where he wouldn’t so easily be seen.

The door was an orderly combination of frosted glass, wooden frames and transparent glass. When Levi sat on the sofa just in front of the doorway, burying himself into some social media timeline, he still had enough headspace to crane his neck up, and just make out positions just behind the frosted class.

Behind the portion of clearer glass, Levi could see Hange was still sitting on the sofa but her posture had shifted into something strangely uncharacteristic. She rested her forehead on her palm and she was bending over, staring at something at the palm of her hand.

The familiar silver of Zeke's phone. What was she staring at?

It felt almost intrusive asking, so Levi ended his own mental reflection there. Instead, he focused on how Hange had looked back up, a look of panic, concern. She was calling out to Zeke maybe?

In a few swift movements, Zeke had come right beside her, he pressed her towards the clear glass.

And he kissed her.

Head empty, thoughts elsewhere, Levi didn't feel it immediately. But eventually it did come. It was a strong wave and for a while, Levi was bombarded.

A second later, he was drowning.

Over a small view? Something between the slits of glass? When he got his grip back on reality, he let his eyes wander over the intricate design of the door and to to the only part of Hange that was reflecting some glimmer of protest.

The fingers of her right hand were pressed on the doorway and Levi continued to watch that less painful view from the one just above it. Hange’s hand continued to twitch, then it went back up and gripped Zeke by the waist. Then suddenly her arm had snaked over Zeke's back then pulled him into one tight embrace.

One tight embrace in front of him and Levi started to think it almost laughable that he had even searched for some rebellion in that intimate moment.

Why would she rebel? She told him herself, she loved him. Yet, why was he still searching for something? Why did he hyperfixate on such a subtle movement that could have meant nothing in that grand scheme of things.

And when Levi mustered the courage to look away from the hand, back up to the view of their heads pressed against each other, he noticed Zeke was looking in his direction. When their eyes met, Zeke narrowed them and raised his chin up in some strange indignance, some vague threat. Then his curled up into a small smile, not wide enough to have ever been genuine.

And the overall expression had Levi dropping his shadows in some cruel realization. Why did he feel like he had lost something? Not just someone but some game.

Had he even been playing?

With that strange expression directed towards him , Levi deemed his very small yet personal search useless and suspended it altogether.

Something pricked at his eyes, his lips trembled and by god, did he want to call it a day. His legs were jelly, deadweight at the same time. His hands didn't feel like his. Still, he moved mechanically to nothing, one step at a time towards the door.

Suddenly aware of social graces, he shook his head and scolded himself once again for getting in the way of such an intimate moment.

He met Erwin outside and by the time Erwin had asked why he had taken so long, Levi had already found ways to compose himself. “Just had to check something on my phone.” It didn’t make much sense but at that moment, sense was the last thing on Levi’s mind.

"I'm going to have a long talk with Zeke about that contract."

"Do you need help?" Levi asked.

Erwin shook his head. "No, this is between me and Zeke. Focus on the alarm."

"I will… No, Hange and I will." Adding her name had only made the prospect of bouncing back from such an ordeal almost stomachable.

But it had worked for only just a few minutes. When Hange and Zeke had left the office, it backfired magnificently.

And all he needed was that one-sided exchange to bring him back to that point of utter desolation.

"Hange, I'll see you tomorrow?" Levi asked.

Hange didn’t respond. Notably, she had been walking faster towards the exit of the gym, only trailing behind Zeke.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Hange…" Before he knew it, he had followed her through the campus grounds. Before he even felt it, he had clutched a shaking hand.

'Levi, let me go, will you?" Hange didn’t seem at all angry. Hell, she had been smiling since even before their eyes locked. Her manner of speaking, her words, then that last expression before she turned her back on him, they all seemed to have a calming effect.

It was easier to let go of her hand, easier to watch silently as she and Zeke turned the corner towards the open parking lot.

But her final parting words burned into even the recesses of his mind. And those words stayed there, the whole train ride home, the whole trek back up to his small studio apartment.

For the first time, Levi went straight to sleep. Of course he would, it had been a long day, too many things happened and he was fucking tired.

But extreme exhaustion was never just exhaustion. Sometimes, he even forgot how much control emotions had over the physical.

Out of curiosity, he opened his alarm to make sense of that strange exhaustion. He noted the blur that came with his own bleary view.

Then the colors and contours settled. Then he noted a pale sky blue.

***

Levi had always been a stickler for cleanliness.

Hange's writings on the whiteboard was a nagging antithesis. They were a conglomerate of careless scribbles, some parts faint other parts dark. Hange never bothered to write over them, never bothered to write on the white board with the same pressure every time.

And she never even wrote in a straight line.

Wingsoffreedom123

Wingsoffreedom213

Wingsoffreedom231

Wingsoffreedom321

Wingsoffreedom312

Wingsoffreedom132

The lines only bent, fell over or climbed as she wrote them and they only acted as some sort of distraction especially when Levi was in a constant process of organizing and reorganizing both his thoughts and his actual belongings.

Yet somehow, Levi couldn't stop staring at the lines of used emails and the check marks next to them. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to erase it and write over it, despite the codes, the plans running through his mind, demanding to be let out.

Maybe he could ask her for permission, maybe scold her for not cleaning up.

At around ten that Tuesday morning, he called, only to receive a dial tone. And he listened to that dial tone for a few minutes longer, while staring at the messy white board on front of him.

Hange was an utter mess. He thought loudly to himself. Then he found himself a little more ticked to have a whiteboard with shitty scribbles on it.

The eraser was right under the board. Yet as easy as it would be to erase it, somehow he couldn’t.

He turned back to his computer, opened his workflow tracker and started a new project just for both of them. He added the resources, the codes and the latest build of that birthday present he had created just for her.

He opened a virtual drawing board on his tablet, drawing plans for new colors, plans to quantify emotions and plans to connect a phone to some desktop view dashboard.

He didn’t know what Hange would need, what Hange was envisioning or however way he could make sense of numbers or assign them into each emotion just yet.

If he just created a few formulas, suggested a few codes, Hange would give her feedback anyway. He booted his phone up and opened his chat with Hange.

11:00 AM

Hey, you’re going to the office today?

Lunch break passed without any hitches so Levi decided to stare at the whiteboard again just to annoy himself enough to want to message Hange again.

2:26 PM

Are you done with the whiteboard? I’m gonna erase what you wrote.

She didn’t reply.

He sent over those same questions, those same threats multiple times a day over the week and every time, the result had been the same.

No response.

As week turned into two weeks, then three, he realized he had never planned on erasing it in the first place. Somehow, he wanted that antithesis, that glaring reminder that it hadn’t just been his office space anymore.

Work and responsibilities had become some sort of a solace, a godsend in their own little way. With enough post release questions to answer, with enough data from the testing to make some sense of, Levi was constantly busy. With bugs constantly rearing their ugly heads, demanding to be solved, Levi had at least managed to pretend he wasn’t always thinking about her.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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cupcakemolotov · 3 years

Text

When Blood Calls for Blood

Hmm. This was supposed to be a mafia story for the AU Season that @klaroline-event is putting on, and instead descended into the depths of blood magic and werewolves, and some horror. Your guess is as good as mine as how that happened. Anyway. Hopefully this still works for Crime week. People ARE murdered.

Here you go. You can read it on A03 if you prefer.

Warnings: Blood Magic, Werewolves, Necromancy, death, some gore but not a lot, discussion about sex but no actual smut in this.

The brandy in her glass was excellent, but she hadn’t expected anything else. Klaus had come a long way from the boy next door with skinned knees and paint smeared fingers. That it’d been nearly a decade since she’d seen him hadn’t changed nearly as much as she’d have liked. Same tumbled curls, same dimples, same charm that lingered like a second skin over the sharper, harder parts of his smile. But now, his thinness had filled out into lean strength and he’d grown into the shape of his nose, the curve of his jaw.

Caroline hadn’t expected to like the look of him as much as she did after all this time. Had hoped some distance would dull the want that had once lingered between them. She also hadn’t anticipated the way his gaze could still trace against her skin with the same intensity of a touch, but now with a new, markedly adult male appreciation that hinted at all sorts of fun things. Dangerous things, thoughts she’d pushed away much easier with the naivete of a teenager than she was finding herself able to do as a grown woman.

Klaus had never been easy to ignore.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we?” She asked once he’d leaned a hip against the desk next to him when she’d chosen not to sit. She didn’t know this man as well as she once had and she wasn’t prepared to be that vulnerable. Not yet. “We both know what you sent Elijah to tell me you wanted. I want to know why you think I should go along with it.”

A hint of a smile curved his lips. There was a strange sort of affection in his gaze which surprised her, in this childhood home of his, this house of horrors that had birthed monsters. She wished Enzo was there, to tell them if there were ghosts. If the rotting bones of Mikael beneath their feet still suffered.

“I’ve missed your directness, love. Most people are too afraid of me to try it.” His lashes lowered for a heartbeat, and his voice deepened. “And far too terrified to offer such blatant disapproval.”

Caroline gave him an unconcerned look. “I agreed to this meeting because we were once friends. Not because I bought into the spiel that Elijah was selling. I walked away from this kind of life, and I had very good reasons to do so. You know that.”

A flash of something wolf-yellow glimmered faintly at the edges of his gaze, but she didn’t flinch. Klaus was dangerous. So very, very dangerous. Here, in Mystic Falls where they’d both spent their childhoods, it was almost possible to forget the lessons Chicago and New York had already learned. But Caroline had learned to deal with Klaus and his caustic mix of power and temper years earlier. A little of the wolf wasn’t enough to warn her off.

Though it did intrigue her. Before, his control had been something held together by tenterhooks, his rage palpable. She had wondered if he’d buried it deep in his bones, left it to fester in muscle and marrow, but that glimmer told her he’d made a different choice.

She was glad.

“Blood calls to blood, love.” There was something in his voice, a note that was sharp and apologetic both. “And you are Bill Forbes daughter.”

Caroline wrinkled her nose at the reminder. “I’m going to need more brandy if that's the angle you're taking. Thankfully, he only provided half my genetics, and none of my looks.”

The hard line of his shoulders eased, her words answering some unspoken question. “I know.”

Her expression sharpened. She did not like that he was able to read her so well. “If you’re not going to get to the point, I will leave.”

His laugh was soft, and unexpected. And it did nothing to lessen her mad. Reaching up, he briefly rubbed his neck and when his gaze returned to hers. The blue was gone, awash with gold and wolf. Inexplicably, her own tension gave, if just a little. She might no longer know the man, but she understood the wolf.

“Elijah says you are well informed of my ongoings.”

She rolled her eyes. “As if that’s hard. A werewolf with the bad taste to be born to a witch, and who the poor manners of eating other witches is not, exactly, an unknown creature in the local gossip. Mystic Falls does so love it’s little horrors. It’s not like it’s hard to figure out where you’re going or where you’ve been.”

His dimples creased his cheeks. “That’s true. And yet, here you are.”

The implied threat was said teasingly. Caroline deliberately took a sip of her brandy. “If your wolf had wanted me dead, it would have made the attempt that when I was thirteen and tossed you three pine trees to save Enzo. If the man had wanted me dead, Elijah would never have sworn a binding saying this meeting was done in truce.” Her smile was sharp. “At least not knowingly. My magic is not kind when it comes to broken vows, and he hates me.”

His gaze narrowed at the blunt reminder, but his voice held no hint of anger. Just a hunting triumph. “I found Rebekah.”

And everything snapped into place. Setting her glass down, she stared at him. “And Elijah couldn't have led with that?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t…” Caroline stared at him for a long moment before tossing back her drink and moving towards one of the chairs. Ten years. It’d been ten years, and she understood everything those words meant. “Fine. I’ll bite. What is going on?”

To her surprise, he chose the chair next to her. His gaze holding hers, he deliberately tipped his knee lightly against her own. “Rebekah is in New Orleans.”

Her brows furrowed and her words were honest as she tried to ignore the feel of him against her. That sparking challenge in his eyes. “But you looked there years ago.”

That slow, thoughtful smile curled on his face again and she wished she hadn’t finished the brandy. “You have been tracking me.”

Caroline sighed and for the first time, looked away. She did not want to speak of the need to know he was still alive, to trust that he’d find some kind of reason after the death of his step-father. The wolf could have easily poisoned the man with its hate as the man could have destroyed the wolf with its rage.

“My father… the things he did.” Her words died and she shrugged. “I miss her too.”

They were survivors, her and Klaus. Enzo and Rebekah, though they were missing. Witchborn and powerful, they were the last remnants of bloodlines and blood feuds that should have never existed. Klaus, with his wolf and his rage. Enzo, with his affinity for the dead and his wicked sense of humor. Rebekah, the living embodiment of her mother’s hopes and wishes, but without the same darkness. And she? She was her father’s daughter, for all the Liz Forbes had done her best to temper it.

“Then you’ll help me.”

And that blatant satisfaction, the roughness of his wolf in his voice warned her that he thought he had won. She let her gaze return Klaus’ face, and the force of temper clashed against his. She did not like being boxed in. He needed to remember that. “Will I? What I owed you was a blood debt and that was paid in full. What my family did to yours was terrible, but what Esther did to my mother was also terrible. There are no debts between us, not anymore.”

Enzo might argue that point, but her wiley best friend had been missing nearly as long as Rebekah.

“You’ll help me,” Klaus repeated, unbothered by her irritation. Her temper, the surge of power that came with it, had always bothered him as little as his wolf had unnerved her. “And in turn, I will help you.”

“And what,” Caroline drawled, “do I need your help with? I’m perfectly capable of burying bodies on my own these days.” She wiggled her manicured fingers. “I don’t even have to break a nail to do it.”

That flicker of affection again, tempered by determination. He reached for an envelope that sat on the edge of his desk and handed it to her. “I’d have helped you regardless, but this might make things more comfortable between us.”

She snorted even as she opened the envelope to pull out a single sheet. “Things have never been particularly comfortable between us at all.”

Caroline ignored the deeply satisfied noise he made and looked at the picture. Enzo’s face, battered, bruised, stared up at her and she went motionless at the tangle of anger and fear that swept through her. “How…”

She’d looked.

“It took finding Rebekah.” A bitterness in his voice she understood. “And once I did, I knew where to look. The scattered pieces of our past are not easy things, love.”

Mute with rage, she glanced back at him.

“When the Witch Council attempted to end the feud between our families, they were not prepared for the realities of what that would mean.” His teeth gleamed behind his lips. “They were ill prepared for our families' hate, I imagine our cooperation never occurred to them.”

Caroline snorted. They should have been prepared for all of it. Feuding witches were no small thing. Though in her more charitable moments, she allowed that some things just could not have been foreseen. Not the fallout from Ester’s affair, not Bill’s jealousy, not Mikael’s malice.

Rebekah should have been safe. They should have all been safe. None of them had been.

“They should have done better.”

His smile held teeth. “Yes.”

It had been her and Enzo, who had held Mikael with their magic while Klaus had shifted to wolf to rip his step-father apart. Enzo, who had commanded the dead man to dig his own grave in the study Mikael had been so fond of. Later, Klaus had opened a bottle of expensive bourbon and they had gotten drunk listening to the sound of a shovel moving dirt.

It had taken hours to repair the foundation with magic.

Mystic Fall was full of so many nightmares.

Her gaze returned to the picture in her hands. And something turned cold and brittle in her chest. “That is the symbol of St. Augustine.”

“Yes.”

She stood then and paced toward the window. When she spoke, her words trembled with magic. Behind her, the desk shuddered. She hadn’t been this close to losing her temper since the day she walked into her home to find it smelling of blood and her mother’s death. Had found what she had been meant to see.

“The Augustine Society belongs to the Witch Council.” Her fists clenched. “And have Enzo.”

She knew the Augustine Society. The horrors the Witch Council offered them. She knew, because her father had also belonged to that society before blood madness had taken him. And they had possibly the greatest necromancer of her generation, trapped.

Fingertips brushed lightly down the bare nap of her neck. The touch was possessive, careful. An old trick, to anchor her. It made it no less personal. “So it is.”

Caroline closed her eyes. She hadn’t heard him move. “What did my father do, that you cannot claim your sister?”

“It’s a blood bind. I cannot break it.”

“No,” she murmured, letting the soft touches of his fingertips focus her. “You wouldn’t be able too.”

“But you can.” His words were lethal in their softness, coaxing in their delivery. “You're more powerful.”

“Flattery,” she said. Then she sighed. “But you’re not wrong. Still, the witches of New Orleans will never allow me into their city.”

They’d never allow Liz Forbes' daughter in their heart of power. The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. So strange, for a city to fear her mother’s blood.

Strange, but not unwise.

“I didn’t plan on asking permission.”

She turned to face him then, letting the window at her spine hold her weight and studied his face. Such arrogance, but not unwarranted. A full coven might face the nightmare he gave shape too with his bones, but perhaps not. Klaus had cut quite a swath through the witch families in the US.

His mother’s perfect monster.

“A blood bind will not be easy to break, not after so many years since it was cast.” She considered what it meant, how far gone her father had been in his madness. “I will likely need a sacrifice, and that is a magic I have sworn not to use lightly.”

“You won’t fall to the same madness.” The assurance in his voice was so, so arrogant. “I will not allow it.”

Caroline gave a bark of laughter. “You cannot know that, cannot expect to dictate such a thing.”

“But I can,” he disagreed. “I’ve seen your magic, Caroline. I’ve witnessed the price of it, the horror of it, and justice of it. Esther’s death was not easy. I know what you are.”

“Ester deserved more,” she said. “But we work with what we have. And I am no longer, sixteen, Klaus. What anchored me as a teenager will not work for the adult.”

Then it’d had been enough to cling to his wolf. To bury her face and hands in the thick pelt of his fur while she rode out the drowning horror, the unrelenting ecstasy of her magic, to let the sensation of fur on skin be the distraction from the siren call of endless power. The blood she wore on her skin.

She’d always liked his wolf.

Blood magic was dangerous. And witches who practiced it always, always lost themselves. Caroline’s father had been no exception. She would likely not be either. Thankfully, she wasn’t just her father’s daughter.

“And what,” Klaus asked lightly, eyes deepening to the blue of the man, something as dark as the working of her magic coloring his voice. “Do you need?”

Her nails dug into her palms and she lifted her chin. “What are you offering?”

Klaus’ head lowered until his nose nearly brushed hers, his mouth tantalizing close to hers. “Anything you want.”

Her teeth sank briefly into her lip and she sighed. “We both know how my father chose to feed his need and how well that worked for him.”

Satisfaction and a want so blatant and greedy on his face, she struggled to suck in her next breath. “Steven knew what he was doing when he agreed to join your father’s bed. He was aware of the risks. So am I.”

Her voice shook only a little when she spoke. “Rebekah’s temper is no small thing, Klaus. If she wakes up to me fucking her brother, I don’t think she’s going to be pleased.”

His hand lifted to curve along her jaw, thumb brushing tantalizing across her lips. “Elijah can secure Bekah, once she is free.”

And Elijah would just love that. “So you are planning on telling him you found her.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Both he and Kol will be needed for this. Even if only a mirage, we must show the world where our loyalties lie.”

Caroline winced. “They still haven’t forgiven you for not kiling me, then.”

When Elijah had appeared at her home to request her presence for this meeting, she’d almost hoped.

“As they are not strong enough to oppose me, their opinions of your magic do not matter.” His jaw tightened. “From either side of your family.”

“Klaus…” She caught his hand. “They are not wrong. Blood magic is an abomination, not counting what my mother left me with her death. Killing me would likely make the world a better place.”

His eyes flared with his wolf, and his words were near violent with intensity. “I disagree. Am I too, not an abomination? You protested quite viciously when my mother attempted to do just that.”

His voice sounded the same as it always had, when he spoke of her murdering his mother. Delighted satisfaction with a hint of growl.

Caroline rolled her lip tightly between her teeth. This was what her mother had never understood. What Esther had miscalculated. This tugging in her chest, as she thought about a world without Klaus. The way he dared her with his eyes and his worlds to repeat herself, to suggest he would allow the world to exist without her. The thing that had left her walking away from him, uncertain what lengths she could allow herself to go to preserve it.

The boy who had painted her flowers and the man who understood the depth of what she could become, what she feared.

But he’d found Rebekah. Enzo.

“You understand that if I agree to this, it won’t end with rescuing Rebekah and Enzo,” she said slowly. Likely wouldn’t end with her willing to walk away from him a second time, and the bloody future that promised. “I’m not that forgiving. If the Augustine Society was part of this, if they supported my father? Enzo will want them dead and so will I.”

“Oh, sweetheart, as if I’d object.” His mouth curved. “But why stop there? Not when we both know the Witch Council had to be involved.”

So much destruction. So much blood. Carefully, she reached up with her free hand and traced the shape of his mouth while he went carefully motionless. “It would be helpful, if the sacrifice had a tie to Bekah.”

His lips pursed against her fingers for a moment before he moved just enough to respond. “The Salvatore’s are in New Orleans.”

And that terrible anger, that thirst she’d managed to choke into behaving for ten years unfurled in her chest. “What a coincidence.”

And Klaus, whose monster knew her own, just smiled. “Isn’t it just?”

“How are you planning on explaining my presence in New Orleans?”

Mischief, sudden and startling, crossed his face. “The witches can hardly object to my bringing a date to Mardi Grais. The same as I have done for the past four years, in fact.”

Caroline blinked, and tried not to think about the twist of jealousy in her gut. “I am not pretending to be in a relationship with you.”

“Who said anything about pretending?” His eyes laughed at her but his words were serious. “Shouldn’t you take a man to dinner before post ritual sex?”

She glowered at him, just to be contrary. “No.”

He shrugged, unperturbed.“We’re still sharing a room.”

She choked on a sudden laugh, at how easy and playful he made this. As they weren’t courting madness and the wrath of the council as they freed their family. As if everything was just a matter of them going out and conquering their enemies with his teeth and their magic.

Simple, really.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Caroline questioned. “This… this will change everything.”

Klaus lowered his head, pressing his forehead to hers and smiled, dimples bracketing a smile made of sin and blood lust that struck her in her chest. The smile of a predator well satisfied.

“Yes, I think it will.”

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction

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