swedesfics

John had been the one to let him in, amusement written all over his face. You never knew why, but it was like that brother of yours could smell trouble from a mile away. He wasn’t the brightest, and often didn’t know what the plan was, although he happily went along with it, but he always knew when something was about to go ‘bang’. Maybe it was just his love for bombs. Either way, John had let him in and Arthur had started pouring the drinks straight away. Not a great start. Tommy was still working, so the four of you were now sitting in the little front room at Watery Lane. And you could cut the tension with a knife. “What was your name again?” Arthur asked the boy. “You know his name,“ you sighed. “He’s been a friend of Finn’s since they were six years old.” “I forget.” Said boy cleared his throat to answer, but before he actually could, Arthur interrupted him, “Never mind, I won’t remember it anyway.” Strike one. Thank God Tommy finally came in. He stood in the doorway and looked around the room, eyes lingering on you for a second, and then staring down the boy who had dared to knock on his front door. “Well?” he finally said. “Tom, this is…” Thomas pointed a finger to silence you and softly, menacingly, said, “You will not be speaking, Y/N, at all. I want to hear it all from him.”

You sat back down quietly. Tommy lit a slow cigarette. The room had turned to ice. “Speak, boy.” For a second, the boy made eye contact with you. Immediately, Tommy held up a hand in warning, and he got it. So, he bravely looked your brother in the eye instead and said, “My name is Jeremiah Roth, Mr. Shelby. I’m a friend of your sister.” “Are you now…” “I thought he was Finn’s friend.” Arthur grumbled. John gestured around vaguely, “Maybe he has lots of friends, Arthur.” “Not in here he doesn’t…” “I do!” Jeremiah interjected, even though you’d tried your best to warn him with your eyes. Tommy raised his eyebrows and nodded, “There, you see? He has lots of friends. He’s friendly, right, Jeremiah? You’re friendly?” Less certain now, he answered, “I think I am…” “So friendly even, that you decided to come to our house and interrupt us during our work.” “I don’t mean to interrupt anything…” behind your brother’s back you had started gesturing wildly for him to move the fuck along and get to the point, because you knew exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t. Tommy sighed theatrically, “Yet here you are.” “I’ll get to the point,” Jeremiah said. You gave him a double thumbs up and an encouraging smile, “I’ve known Y/N for almost 10 years now and I like her very much. I think she likes me too.” Within seconds, Arthur was up and John just about managed to stop him from lifting the boy clean out of his shoes.

“Settle down, brother,” Tommy said, seemingly unmoved. But you recognized how his eyes had slightly darkened. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”   Jeremiah opened his mouth again, but before he could say anything, a fourth brother entered the room. Finn’s eyes lit up in surprise when he saw his friend, “What are you doing here, Jem?” “He wants to marry Y/N,” John blurted out. You let your head fall into your hands, waiting for the explosion to happen. For a moment, nothing happened at all. Arthur had turned a slightly darker shade of purple, but all was quiet. “What?” John asked no one in particular, “I’m just saying it. We all know it…” And then it kicked off. Finn lunged forwards and punched his friend in the face. Jeremiah fell back and took one of the little tables with him. John tried to stop Finn, but he clearly wasn’t making much of an effort. Arthur, meanwhile, grabbed hold of a book and flung it at the boy’s head. Then he went at him with the bottle, but luckily tommy took that from his hands. It was a chaos of fighting cats, with only you and Tommy standing to the side, looking at it. “So, how would you say this is going, Y/N? Eh?” “Not great.” Tommy nodded and lit yet another cigarette. Then he sent you a quick strict look and said, “Don’t think I don’t know this was your idea.” You gulped and decided not to reply. Because of course this was your idea. You liked Jeremiah, you may even loved him, you weren’t entirely sure, but he wasn’t the bravest man in Small Heath. Which was fine with you, because if you wanted brave, loud, violent or bold men, you had many to choose from. No, you liked Jeremiah because of his kindness, his clumsiness, his nervousness around big groups of people, and his wordless affection for you. Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise of Tommy banging his fist down onto the table and shouting out, “Enough!” John immediately grabbed Finn by the collar and threw him out of the room, saying, “Thanks for coming, Finn. Well done. Now let the grown-ups handle this.” Finn tried to shout out something threatening to his friend about sneaking around with his sister, but John quickly closed the door, so his words faded away.

Tommy sat down again and waited for his brothers to do the same, “Let’s start this again, eh?” “Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” Jeremiah said, as he tried to dab away some of the blood off his chin, “As I was saying, I like your sister.”

Frantically, you tried to get him to look at you. You waved your arms about and when he did finally look, you mouthed the word respect at him a few times. He finally got it, nodded a little too obvious and added, “And of course I respect you all.” You shook your head. This wasn’t going to be easy. Again, you mouthed the right words and pointed feverishly at yourself: respect ME! “Ah! Yes,” he nodded again, “And of course I respect me most of all.” You slumped down in your chair. Half a smile started forming on John’s face, as he looked from you to him.   Again, you tried, as clearly as you could and without John noticing. It became a strange dance almost, with a lot of stopping and starting again. Pointing from him to yourself, to the brothers, and to your ring finger. Tommy narrowed his eyes, Arthur downed another glass and John almost giggled. “What I mean to say… is that I respect Y/N. A lot.” Finally. “Which is why I’m here.” You started gesturing again, referring to the next bit you had told him to say. But suddenly John spun around and caught you mid-mime. He barked a laugh, “Have you two been rehearsing this? Because, fucking hell Y/N, should’ve spend a bit more time on this one.” “No, I haven’t,” you tried feebly. “You respect her.” Tommy waved a hand, “I’m so very glad to hear it.” His patience was running out. “And you want to marry her.” Arthur started, obviously trying with every inch of his might to sound calm and reasonable, “You want to marry our sixteen-year-old sister.” His patience had run out a long time ago.

“Yes, well it doesn’t have to be right away,” Jeremiah offered. And you slammed a hand against your forehead to show him: wrong move! So, he added, “I mean, we’re both still young.” “Mr. Roth,” Thomas interrupted him, and he leaned forwards and waved his cigarette around as he spoke, “I’ll be frank with you, alright? I’m sure you’re a lovely boy, but that is all you are: a boy. And the only reason I won’t shoot you right here and now, is because I think you’re just a fucking idiot. I’ll forgive you for that. I’m also going to assume my sister put you up to this. I’ll deal with her later. But I will tell you this: she is far too young to get married yet. She will be ready, when I say she’s ready, alright?” “We haven’t even thought about a dowry for her yet,” John added, unhelpfully. And you couldn’t help yourself, “What would I be worth then, John?” “Y/N…” Tommy warned. You sat up, “No, I want to know! A horse?” “You’re worth more than one horse,” Arthur weighed in on the conversation, “You’re a bloody Shelby.” “Three horses?” John shrugged, “I don’t know, I haven’t…” “What about a car?” Jeremiah asked, smiling brightly. He never was too good and gauging the mood and taking social cues.

“A car is a lot, Jeremiah,” you laughed. He smiled back at you, and innocently added, “Well, I’m not really sure how these things work, Y/N. Maybe for a virgin?” And that’s when Tommy lost it too. He jumped up, with his other brothers hot on his heel, grabbed the much-confused boy and in one swift motion, practically hoisted him up into the air. “Wait!” you shouted out, “Tom, wait. Please. I know he’s an idiot, but I swear it’s just that. He doesn’t mean any harm!” “And you want to marry this idiot?” John asked, chewing on his toothpick, obviously, but calmly, contemplating homicide. You looked at Tommy, who hardly seemed to move at all. Somehow, that was even scarier.

“Why our sister?” Tommy grumbled lowly. “I thought it would be good for her too,” Jeremiah tried, “With her reputation and all.” Arthur actually sounded like an animal, “What fucking reputation?” “Because she’s a Shelby?” You couldn’t wait any longer. He was going to get himself killed, “Jeremiah, shut the fuck up. Please. Whatever you think might be a good idea to say, do no say that! You’re making it worse.” John looked at him. He didn’t think it was funny anymore, “You’re calling my sister wild?”

Jeremiah just hung there, suspended in the air.  His voice had gotten very thin, “I don’t mean she’s wild wild. I mean she’s friendly, you know?” “Oh, friendly again, is it.” And that was it. With one swift motion, Thomas threw Jeremiah out the front door and closed it again. “Wedding’s off, Y/N,” Arthur said, almost cheerful. You sat back down and sighed. None of this had gone according to plan. Maybe you could try again in a couple of years, together, when you’d prepped him better. “Why would you want to marry him?” John asked again, genuinely interested. “You could have anyone. Why him?” “I like him.” Tommy ran a hand through his hair and simply said, “Well, luckily for him, so do I. But you’re not marrying anyone for now and that’s final. Alright?” You nodded. Somehow, this still felt like a victory, even though your brothers seemed exhausted after the encounter. Like it had taken years off their lives. So, you decided to ease their discomfort a little, “You don’t have to worry, Tommy.” “Worry about what, eh?” He took a long drag. You shrugged, “I mean… I’m not that friendly…” John snickered in the background, but Tommy frowned, “What?” “I’m still a virgin.” Arthur had just downed his whiskey and, unfortunately, choked.

*****

Masterlist

you jolted violently, whipping around with wide eyes. zagreus stood before you, his hands raised. “sorry- didn’t mean to scare you.” he quickly uttered. “you just looked… tense, is all.” his mismatched eyes slowly drifted to the broom, where cracks had formed from your iron grip. you blinked, slowly setting the broom against the wall with a sheepish look. “just… having a bit of a mid-life crisis? well, a godly one.” you sighed, shaking your head.

the prince raised a brow, “i don’t mean to pry, but i wouldn’t mind listening.” your brows perked up in surprise, a small smile forming on your lips. “thank you zagreus. do you mind also covering for me? i really don’t feel like getting told off today…” zagreus nodded in agreement, “of course. perhaps my room would be best for privacy?” you followed after the male with no further questions, trying to decipher where it would be best to start. 

the two of you sat atop zagreus’ bed, the mattress bouncing ever so slightly to accommodate for the new weight. the silence didn’t feel as unnerving as before, thanks to the prince of hell’s presence. you were glad you had found a confidant and amazing friend in him.

“well… to start, i guess i…” you paused, inhaling then exhaling to organize your thoughts. “i have feelings for meg, romantically.” zagreus blinked in surprise, looking down at you. “i don’t know what to do next, zag. she’s practically unreachable. any time i see her, i want to approach her but i’m just so…” “nervous?” zagreus finished for you. “yes, nervous. that.” you fell back onto the bed with a grunt, staring up at the ceiling in disdain. the bed shifted as zagreus laid beside you, his head propped up by his hand. 

“if you don’t mind me asking, zag, how did you approach than?” a nervous chuckle left the male, the flame-colored wreath atop his head shifting ever so slightly as he moved to look at the headboard. “i don’t mean to sound… generic, but all i really did was be myself.” he began. “aside from the fact that we’re childhood friends, all i really did was figure out what he liked, what he didn’t like. then, i just went from there.” at his words, you went silent. 

if you started from there, perhaps you would have a chance to find out more on meg. you looked to zagerus with a faint smile, “thank you, zag. and don’t worry about sounding too generic, you… you’ve helped more than you know.” you nodded firmly, watching a smile grow on zagreus’ face. “you’re welcome, i’m glad i could be of assistance… but really, that quick?” he questioned, a brow raised as he moved to sit up once you did.

“yeah, i want to find meg, see if… i can muster up the courage to talk to her.” zagreus placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “that’s a great start, but remember not to get ahead of yourself. things like this take time and patience.” he warned. “right. time and patience.” you huffed, standing to head out of his room. the prince trailed after you, the two of you heading into the dining hall. unfortunately, nyx was nowhere to be seen, so you couldn’t greet the primordial goddess on the way.

a few shades lingered about the mess hall, some seated at tables and chattering amongst each other on how they died and the works. not too far, deusa was humming to herself as she gently dusted at a ledge. “deusa,” zagreus called from behind you, the gorgon jumping with a chirp-like hiss as she turned around. “p-prince zagreus!” she squeaked, also calling your name shortly after. “done with your chores already? maybe i should learn a thing or two from you…” the snake huffed in defeat, her eyes flitting over to zagreus. “oh- i also washed your sheets with the detergent you like! i-um… hope you enjoy it, prince zagreus.” she rambled. shortly after, the gorgon floated upwards, disappearing to carry on with her duties around the house of hades. “yes, thank you deusa. i’ll… be seeing you then.” the two of you moved on, the prince gently nudging you at the sight of a specific fury nursing a drink.

she stood alone, her whip holstered. on her face she wore a small scowl. “ah, must not be in the best of moods because of earlier…” zagreus winced, looking to you with worry written on his face. you shook your head, “nothing i can’t handle zag, besides, there’s a warrant on your head, not mine.” you jested lightly, earning a soft chuckle from the male. “true that. well, it’s best you go alone then. i’ll watch from afar.”

your heart hammered in your chest as you looked to meg, the fury sensing your stare shortly after. with narrowed eyes, she locked onto zagreus. you watched her face twist into a sneer, “tch.” she scoffed, setting her cup down. eventually, she looked to you. you could only hope she couldn’t hear your racing heart. “zagreus and the new godling. to what do i owe the displeasure?” 

you and zagreus shared a look, the prince giving a small nod. “zageus was… just on his way, and i wanted to check in on you.” you told the fury, stepping forward to stand before her. meg raised a brow, “to… check in on me?” she repeated slowly, a hint of confusion laced in her voice. behind you, zagreus departs with a few pats on your back and he mouths a ‘good luck’ to you.

“yeah- er, yes. you looked like you were in a bad mood so…” you trailed off, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. your gaze slowly drifted to the ground. meg eyed you up and down for a moment, a long sigh leaving the woman as she turned to take another sip from her drink. “i’m… fine. zagreus just- eugh, the nerve of that prince irks me.” she seethed, shaking her head. you chuckled softly, waving to the shade behind the counter for a drink of your own.

“that sounds like a light way of putting it.” you murmured, thanking the shade-chef with a nod. the sweet taste of nectar soothed you, meg watching as you drank the gold-colored liquid. “well, i’m all ears for whatever you’d like to talk about.” you told her now, looking at the fury with a kind smile. she blinked a few times before nodding, “thanks…” meg murmured. she stared at her drink for a moment before glancing back over to you.

perhaps you wouldn’t be as bad as she thought you would be.

the man seems a lil avoidant, like he’s just wary of people in general so i'm not so sure how well he’d respond to hearing from a third party that you had a crush on him, whether that be a close friend of yours or an unfamiliar group of fellow rebels. he’d immediately feel like expectations were being pushed onto him and people were anticipating him to react in a certain way. he doesn’t like that, it feels like someone's yanked open the curtains that were obscuring him from the bright light of perception? so even though he returns your feelings for sure, he’s not going to react well to that kind of direct address/situation and would most likely pull away from you in an attempt to take back the control he feels he’s lost.

in the end i think if one of you were to make a move to further the relationship, it would have to be him because he doesn’t like feeling caught off guard or put on the spot. even then, he’s definitely not confessing the true extent of his fondness for you (even though it totally consumes him, this is a man that feels deeply, just look at those eyes babe). 

cassian is someone who expresses their love through actions and deeds, not so much words, at least not immediately, that’s a little too vulnerable for him at the moment.

let's be honest, his version of getting the message across to you is patting you on the shoulder and telling you “that’s really good” as he oversees your group’s blaster training. like the affection is there and you totally get free passes where others don’t, but overall there’s really nothing concrete to suggest he thinks of you as anything other than a friendly comrade, which is probably how he likes it for now.

again, addressing it head on either by yourself or having another person plant the notion into his mind is not the way to go about this. he’s like a stray animal, you see him from across the street and desperately want to pull him close and love up on him, but even the most careful approach will have him skirting away from you in a flash after one wrong move.

honestly the only way to go about this i think is to just let him do his own thing, find a quiet and subtle way let him know you’re open and will be waiting with open arms, and he’ll come to you eventually. i’d say he’d come to you in his own time, and I wouldn't be lying but let's be honest, that first really meaningful look (see elevator scene in rogue one 😩) and pleading of your name is going to come in a moment of high-stakes and danger. what can I say, there's nothing like a life threatening situation in which either one or both of your lives are in jeopardy and desperation and stress infect every decision made, to provoke a momentary lapse in resolve and allow some painfully concealed concern and devotion to seep out of one's every orifice <3.

then there’s the subject of his name. obviously he introduces himself as cassian (unless he’s undercover but that’s a whole other can of worms, you’d get there in the end), so you’ve not really any reason to suspect otherwise until you pose an innocent question about the origins of his name, which leads him to hesitantly surrender his birth name to you. this is only something he’d ever consider doing if he truly, deeply trusted you and felt ready to open up even just a little bit. again, it’s all in his own time, there’s no pushing cassian. psst, don’t be afraid of using his real name, he’ll answer to it…just pick the right moments iykyk

when on missions, clashes tend to happen. cassian believes he knows best (and maybe he does. he probably does lets be fr we’re dumbos), so you’ll every now and again notice him speaking for you or making decisions on your behalf. obviously as an independent entity, this will most likely get on your nerves so it’s an issue that’ll have to be addressed in a sit down session with him. he honestly doesn’t mean it in a controlling way, he probably sees it as him relieving you of any unnecessary burdens, so you’ll have to make it clear to him you’d appreciate it if he lets you stand on your own 2 feet and would, well… for a lack of a better phrase, ‘just butt out’. at the end of the day, you’d rather be equals, partners in crime, not so much some micromanaged talent. come on, it’s understandable cass.

You’re flitting about the house, moving from room to room, trying your best to clean and scrape off the blood and innards that splattered all over the living room floor. This wasn’t even the worst part—trying to stuff a corpse in bags was. You loath every part of it, but what can you do right?

That’s one less Visitor in your home, your human guests should be safe again. They have nothing to worry about, not when you have your trusty gun with you.

The cold man quietly observes your frantic movements from where he’s sitting down on the couch. Maybe you don’t realize it, but your tight-lipped expression doesn’t hide the worry that lies underneath. To everyone else, it’s clear these deaths are taking a toll on you even when you continue to pretend you have it under control. Visitor or not, they all look like humans to you, it messes up your psyche. He huffs, if he spotted that damned Visitor sooner you wouldn’t have done this. That’s what he’s here for, to share the burden you carry and be the shoulder you can cry on.

A sanctuary.

Next time, he’ll do better. He’ll be more efficient and ruthless.

“I guess that’s the last of it.” You get up from the floor and wipe the sweat trickling down your forehead with your arm. “Shit, finally. I thought the blood was never gonna come off.”

You hold the heavy garbage bags tightly in your gloved hands as you haul them, carefully maneuvering your way in the living room to avoid bumping the furniture with them. The cab driver looks away from you, and the cold man notices it.

The least these humans could do is help you, and they can’t even do that.

He scrunches up his nose in disgust.

He gets up from the couch, slowly walking toward you. “Here, let m-me help you.” He gently snatches a particularly heavy bag from you. “Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to.” You give him a grateful smile. There it is. He softens upon seeing it. “I insist, I w-want to be o-of assistance to you in a-any way I can.” Not being able to kill the Visitor you took down today was a huge oversight on his part, but getting you to smile makes it all better. You make it all better. It’s strange, seeing it fills him with warmth and… happiness?

Your little human quirks help him get in touch with his emotions more. At this rate, he can emulate other humans better with your help.

“We should probably leave these by the backdoor for now. I’ll dispose of them properly tonight,” You mused, the cold man nods. With his help, you managed to lug those bags around easily, and now that you’re done you just want to curl up in your bed and sleep the day away. “Thanks again! I’ll clean up and go to sleep after.”

You were about to turn around and book it to the bathroom—which was unoccupied today—when he grabs your hand. You immediately swivel your head to regard him with a questioning look.

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

“The o-other guests in your h-home make m-me feel overwhelmed. Can I stay in y-your bedroom only for today?” A beat of silence passes while you stare at him wordlessly. Only when you still didn’t speak that he feels like he messed up somehow.

His cold, clammy hand on you doesn’t let go.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of other people staying in my bedroom. I can talk to the guests in the other rooms and negotiate with them if you don’t want to stay in the living room from now on.” You awkwardly chuckle.

“Oh.” His shoulders sag down almost immediately, hesitantly letting go of your wrist.

“It’s nothing personal. You get it right?” Your apologetic smile does little to ease his mind, but the hand you bring up to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly calms him down, if only a little.

It seems he severely miscalculated.

“It’s a-alright. I deeply a-apologize if I o-overstepped your boundaries.” He fidgets with his fingers, some of the blood smearing his palms. You pretend not to notice it.

“Nah, you’re good.” With that final statement, you leave him to his lonesome. He’s not mad at you, no, never at you. But he realizes he’s still inadequate in some way, and that must be the reason why you don’t trust him. He doesn’t mind working for your love. Nonetheless, he feels slightly irritated and dejected by the rejection, so if someone mysteriously vanishes into thin air tonight without your knowledge, he hopes you won’t notice the skeletons in his closet.

The cold man will go to great lengths to keep this special warmth all to himself.

You’re talking to the other guests today, something about keeping watch of “The Vigilante” and steering clear of him? They all look alarmed—you included. If it came down to it, you genuinely had nothing to be scared of. After all, if someone wants to hurt you, they’ll have to go through him first. Maybe he’ll even make use of the black hole in his stomach to finish him off. It was very tempting, but the thought of witnessing your horrified face makes him feel guilty. And so he holds back.

He won’t do it. It will be his last resort.

After your mini impromptu meeting, everyone dispersed and started doing their own thing to pass the time. You, however, had other plans. When you made a beeline out in the empty hallway, he followed suit. Always after you, always your shadow.

When you see him standing beside you, you smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, I would start thinking you like hanging around me.”

Eyes going uncharacteristically wide—exposing more of his unnatural, vertical pupils—he looks like he was a deer caught in the headlights.

“Um, I actually d-do. Compared to the o-others, you have a much more c-calming presence,” He proclaims sincerely, now it was your turn to be surprised.

“Really?”

“I’m grateful f-for everything you’ve d-done for me.”

Wow, he’s really laying it on thick, huh?

Admittedly, you didn’t think much of him at first. He’s fairly respectful and quiet, not bothering the other guests in your home. Despite treating you with too much familiarity and following you around like a lost puppy, he minds his own business most of the time. You don’t know if this was something akin to a silly little crush, but you don’t dissuade him from acting this way.

The guy who keeps spouting about the law and some legal tenant agreement bullcrap can learn a thing or two from him.

You smile at him, and the sight takes his breath away. If he was a human, his heart would probably start beating out of his chest by now. Oh, the things you do to him, and the things he’ll do for you.

Your face falls when you look at the window blinds. You intended to go outside for a few minutes to take a breather and be alone with your thoughts, but the sun still hasn’t gone down yet.

Damn this daylight savings time.

“It’s hard, but I try my best to have a positive outlook on life in the midst of this hellscape. How can I take care of other people if I can’t even take care of myself, you know?” You confessed.

He knows, and that’s why he desperately wishes he was the only one you care about.

As days go by, the both of you steadily grew closer. Some days were better, some were worse. You even had to stay in the basement for a few days with the others because you heard from the radio that some wild individuals were breaking into other people’s homes during nighttime. You didn’t want to risk it.

The cold man learned of your hobbies and some of your aspirations. While you didn’t dwell on it much, it’s clear you had a life before all of this, before him.

He can’t say the same for himself. The cold never left him and society didn’t need someone like him around.

One night when the weight of it all crashes down on you, you impulsively decide to seek out his company. And you didn’t even have to say anything twice, he was always at your beck and call.

You gently caress the side of his face with your hand. He closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “Can I kiss you?” He gasps in surprise.

To hell with everything for now, if this is our new reality, I might as well have my fun tonight. I deserve it.

He slowly nods, it didn’t take long for you to lean in and close the gap between the both of you. He’s incredibly stiff, his inexperience is apparent. You decide to take the initiative by grabbing the back of his head and pulling him closer to you as you deepen the kiss.

Everything was so sudden, it was dizzying. Is this real? Do you reciprocate his feelings?

He lets your tongue explore every inch in his mouth. He’s still cold, but right now you make him feel downright feverish. Under the mercy of your touch, he was a willing puppet. His hands shake with need, and before he could stop himself he grabs your arms and squeezes them with a tight grip. You push him down on the bed in response.

Now that you’re on top of him you pull away from him, breaking the string of saliva connecting your mouth to his. The hunger in your gaze leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable. “Can I take this off…?” You tug at his coat. He was able to recover in record time, firmly shaking his head. “Uh, s-sorry, but can we continue with my c-clothes on?” He stammers.

“Of course.” You didn’t even question him, you went right back into making out with him, his whimpers and whines only egging you on. You never pushed him to do anything unsavory, you were content to let him kiss and grope you everywhere until you reached your high. All throughout it all he insisted on taking care of you instead of the other way around, not only because he wanted to, he was also terrified you’ll accidentally find out about the black hole if he let you feel him up.

It was all a blur for him when you went to the bathroom. Some human emotions—like lust—don’t come easily to him, and yet he likes the physical contact and intimacy of the act.

When dawn breaks, you didn’t bother addressing what happened the night before.

And maybe that was your biggest mistake yet.

You don’t consider the other guests as your friends, they’re acquaintances at best and strangers at worst. They’re only here to reside in your home for a short amount of time.

So why do they tremble under your watchful eye?

You tried talking to one of them today—the cheerful man—but he didn’t even look your way once.

What the hell has gotten to these people?

It wasn’t only them, the cold man has visibly become more clingy with you, never letting you leave his unblinking stare for too long. Wherever you are, he was always hiding in the shadows, watching you. It scared you.

These changes in your home are starting to make you feel restless.

Why the fuck is nobody saying a thing to you?

To make matters worse, the FEMA agent who constantly knocks on your door during the ungodly hours of the night keeps taking the guests away with no remorse.

Guests that you never see again.

A loud bang resounds in the hallway, and you jump slightly at the sound. “Christ, calm down! I’m coming!” You yelled, hurriedly running to the front door. When you open it, you sneer at him. “Let me guess, you came here to take two of the people in here again?”

The FEMA agent standing before you shakes his head. “Not this time, we’re here for you.”

“What? Why?”

“Someone reported to HQ that you were impersonating the owner of this house, that you showed clear signs of being a Visitor.” His steady voice didn’t falter once, but it filled you with pure dread all the same.

That fucking lawyer wannabe seriously reported me to FEMA!

As if this situation wasn’t bad enough, “The Vigilante” kept you up a few nights ago. You were lucky he got off your case after you proved your innocence to him multiple times. But you looked at yourself in the mirror this morning, your bloodshot eyes that stared back at you might as well have made you look like a Visitor to everyone else.

There was no way out of this.

Like hell I’ll back down without a fight.

“That guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about! He’s nuts!” You screamed. The other guests in your home silently looked at the scene before them.

“Let us do our job if you want to come back alive!” He yells in return.

Your eyes went wide in horror. “Are you seriously threatening me?!” You screech. In a blink of an eye, the FEMA agent aggressively grabs both of your arms. “No! Let go, you fucking murderer!” You tried to turn around in his hold, but he was too strong. “Please—fuck! Help me!” You plead to the onlookers in your home, desperate to be freed from the FEMA agent’s grip on you.

They don’t say a thing, they just look away.

He had enough of this.

“What the h-hell do you think you’re d-doing?” The cold man steps out from his hiding place behind the wall. Your stomach churned. You don’t need this right now.

“Stay back,” You ordered, your sharp gaze on him didn’t deter him in the slightest.

“No, he’s taking y-you away from me.” He shudders. Never has he felt this cold and numb before, the thought of you disappearing in his life is not something he’ll allow—not in a million years. You continue to struggle against the FEMA agent’s tight hold on you. “Do you k-know what it feels l-like to feel so very alone? When y-you call out for help but nobody is around t-to hear you out? Society has no need for me, b-but I don’t care anymore.” He takes a step forward. Trepidation seizes the FEMA agent, even from afar, he’s hyperaware of the fact that there is something deeply wrong with the cold man.

“Peace has b-been granted to me the very d-day that I met you. You w-were a miracle,” He whispers reverently. A shiver went down your spine.

Just when the FEMA agent starts dragging you away again, the cold man instantly clutches on all of the layers of his clothes and holds them up, exposing his stomach for all of them to see. A gaping, black hole ominously swirls in its place. In a split second, you were suddenly drenched in blood and organs. Everyone except you and him crumple to the ground with a sickening thud, their bodies seemingly torn in half as if an unseen force forcibly split them apart in a crude manner. All of their guts were exposed. You howled in panic. You grab your gun where you left it a few days ago beside the front door, your body is on auto-pilot.

“I’m s-sorry… I’m so s-so sorry, it must be d-done,” He sniffles, hugging himself. He feels so small. He knows he shouldn’t have done it, he knows you’ll despise him. He even hates himself for what he did.

But somehow, deep inside, he knew this day would come sooner than later. He couldn’t have kept it a secret from you forever even if he wanted to because you were bound to find out one way or another. In any case, he’s grateful the black hole spared you even though the reason for it eludes him. All he knows is that when he shows it to everyone he sees, they suffer the same gruesome death. He doesn’t do it on purpose.

What matters now is that you’re still alive.

“Get the f-fuck away f-f-from me!” You were hysterical and practically inconsolable at this point, tears continuously streaming down your face.

He wants to wipe them away, wipe away all the sadness and fear that you feel.

He doesn’t regret what he did to the others. The FEMA agent, “The Vigilante”, and even all of the guests in your home can go to hell for all he cares. He was done holding back anyway, every time someone disrespects you, it takes all of his patience to not wring their necks. He only regrets you had to find out about the truth this way.

“It’s u-unfortunate it had to be t-this way, my love. But know t-that I’ve always b-been sincere. Whatever you decide to d-do, I willingly place my fate in y-your hands,” He crooned. Too scared out of your mind, you can’t even look him in the eye.

In this standstill with you, he’s content he gets to look at your gorgeous face for quite possibly the last time.

"not a writing account btw" i say, as i open up google docs to write an x reader fic with 2.8k words and post it on here. amazing. maybe this is a sign i should be a semi writing account atp LMFAO. also, while i appreciate the support i've been getting, pls know that i'm not taking requests!! so i apologize to the people who sent stuff in my inbox. >__<

Levi can tell immediately if something is off with his gear. If the blades are dull, if the gas canisters aren't quite loaded right, he picks up on it right away. It's essential to survival, and he's been using gear for so long that it might as well be an extension of his body. He's good enough at it that he can usually hear or see if something is wrong with your gear as well. One of your straps isn't buckled right? He's fixing it and reminding you to double check your gear unless you want to crash into a tree.

It's canon that he has (understandably) bad insomnia and only gets a couple hours of sleep every night. I think when he does sleep, his body twitches a lot. His hand will suddenly flex or his leg will kick out, likely from muscle memory with his gear. Between the twitches, he sleeps like a corpse. Not in terms of how deep he sleeps, because I don't think he'd ever fall into a truly deep sleep unless he was knocked out. No, I mean he's silent to an almost worrying extent. The first time you witness it, you get up to check if he is in fact breathing, but he's narrowing his eyes at you as soon as he hears you move.

Getting this man to even consider you his friend would take years. Yes, years. In my mind he's like a feral cat that you spend years building trust with until they finally let you pet them (still glaring the whole time). Can you blame him? Considering his history with people abandoning him, whether intentionally or not, it's a miracle he lets himself close to anyone. I'm sorry if you like cat and mouse dynamics in a relationship because that isn't gonna happen with him. Be patient, don't push him, respect his boundaries, and eventually you'll be sitting and sipping tea with him.

I don't know if he'd ever put a label on your relationship. It's so definite in a world where everything can be ripped away in a moment. Once he cares for you, he cares for you so deeply, but I definitely see him as an actions over words person. I think you'd come to accept that label or not, what the two of you have is extremely important to him.

Speaking of actions over words, his love language is 100% acts of service. He looks over your gear, brews you a cup of tea, makes sure you're eating enough, all without a word. He doesn't do it with expectations of a thank you or something in return (though you do those things anyway), he's simply doing what feels right. Taking care of you in subtle ways becomes part of his routine almost without him realizing.

In terms of the love language I think he'd like to receive, I can see two of them. First off is quality time. The two of you won't likely ever go on a traditional date for a few reasons, but evenings spent with you curled up reading a book while he works? Those make the tension melt from his shoulders, even if it's only a little. He knows you're safe, and you're actively choosing to spend time with him when you could be doing anything else. When you stay up late to be with him, he'll give you a look and tell you to get to bed, yet he doesn't kick you out. If you fall asleep, he'll (lovingly) complain under his breath while he drapes a blanket over you and saves your place in your book.

Physical touch is the second one. HEAR ME OUT—I know, I know, it sounds silly. I'm not saying he'll be super clingy or want you to wrap around him like a koala. It's another thing that would take years to occur. But the first time you hold him after an expedition, no words and no expectations, just silent comfort? His head falls against your shoulder and the buzzing in his ears goes quiet.

Erwin and Hange are part of the deal. No ifs, ands, or buts. I'm not saying you have to be besties with them, but come on. Give Erwin the due respect, don't be a dick to Hange, and you're all good. In all seriousness, those two are some of, if not the only other people in the world he has space for in his heart, so respecting them is a necessity. And if you get Hange to bathe without Levi having to knock them out, don't be surprised if you wake up with a small gift on your nightstand the next day.

I say this with love, but he's right back to Captain Levi when you're out on an expedition. You have to be able to take care of yourself out there, and he isn't going to coddle you. I'm not saying he's hard on you, but he can't afford to have his attention divided. That being said, if someone else fucks up and you get hurt as a result? Erwin likely has to step in to keep Levi from verbally eviscerating them too much. Even if you get hurt and it isn't because of someone else, he's not going to be an asshole about it. I can see him carefully tending your wounds and making sure you're okay, and then personally training you the next day to try and make sure another incident is less likely to happen.

If he's injured and he can treat it without help, that's what he does. His work is meticulous and professional and he has no problem giving himself stitches, though that's a rare occasion. I think all the scouts would get trained in basic first aid, but I think Levi particularly got into it in his early years. When he's treating you, he's more of a hardass about it. You try to get lazy about changing bandages? He's cornering you and doing it himself. Try to walk on a twisted ankle and he'll threaten to twist the other one if you don't use your damn crutches.

His uniforms are always impeccable, much like the rest of his appearance. We know his obsession with cleanliness is from growing up in the underground, but I think when it comes to his appearance, a small part is due to respect. In his first years above ground, I can see higher ups being complete assholes to him because of where he's from and the reputation he had as a criminal. Making sure his hair was always cut with razor precision, the seams on his uniforms were pressed exactly, it gives the elitists around him one less thing to try and pick apart.

Looping back to physical affection, good luck getting Levi to kiss you at first. He straight up doesn't know how, and would probably think it's gross just based on the idea of it. Like the feral cat allegory from earlier, you can't just kiss him out of nowhere and expect it to go well. Being honest and asking him straight up is your best plan of action. It's awkward at first, with him not moving (or breathing), but Levi is a fast learner.

Kissing him is usually short but sincere, and always with the faint taste of tea. It's exclusively something he does in private, so before an expedition he'll pull you aside somewhere and kiss you a bit longer than usual. He's not a words person unless he's insulting someone, so the kiss is his way of asking you to please, come back safe.

Tav grunted in frustration as they tried to wriggle free from the narrow space between the crates. Their movements only caused them to get more wedged in the spot. They were reaching forward, straining to reach Lae’zel’s outstretched hand, only to just be out of her reach. 

“K’chaki. I told you to go around.” Lae’zel grumbled in exasperation. She withdrew her hand. “We waste precious time while you struggle. At any moment, we could become ghaik.” 

“I know that,” Tav groaned and tried to launch themselves forward. They barely moved an inch, and now their waist was fully stuck between the crates. “It’s almost like you’ve been saying the same thing since we crashed! If you’d shut up and give me your hand, I’d be out of here already.”

“You cannot reach my hand,” Lae’zel pointed out as if it was as obvious as day. “And I have no time to wait and make up for your shortcomings. Had I known you would slow me down, I would have left you to your fate on the nautolid.” 

“And you would have no astral prism. You’d turn into a mindflayer before me,” Tav grunted and decided to change tactics, twisting their hips to try and dislodge themselves. It didn’t work. Lae’zel checked her pack, believing she’d been the one carrying it, only for Tav to give a mocking sneer. “Honestly, it’d be an improvement. You wouldn’t be talking so much if you had a mouth full of tentacles.”

Lae’zel scowled. She took a step forward, hand on the hilt of her sword. “You think it’s wise to provoke me in your position?”

Before you could challenge her, Astarion’s silky voice sounded from somewhere behind you. “Now now, darlings. Let’s not turn our blades on each other. We’ve so many enemies we could stab instead..”

Tav heard the sound of his shoes crunching over gravel as he approached them. The sound stopped when he froze, taking in the scene of the trapped leader in front of him. “Oh. Oh dear. Someone’s gotten themselves in a spot of trouble, hm?”

Tav didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking. They bristled, and they would’ve turned to leer at them if they hadn’t been pinned at the waist. “Hilarious, Astarion. Truly. How about doing something useful and helping me?”

The vampire clicked his tongue. “My, so touchy. I’m almost tempted to leave you there. Who knows what a less friendly adventurer would do if they found you?”

“You wouldn’t,” Tav retorted. “You’d miss me too much. Who else would wake up day after day to tell you how handsome you are?” 

“Cheeky,” Astarion smirked. “Still, I’m not convinced to help you. If only there was a word you could say that would make me reconsider. Something like, oh, I don’t know…please?”

“To hells with that,” Tav palmed the sides of the crates and pushed at them. Besides the occasional, minuscule move, they remained right where they were. Their face contorted with exertion, and they heard Astarion snickering behind them. 

“That’s four words, and I'm not looking for any of them.” Astarion stepped closer and leaned against the crates. “But by all means, keep squirming. You look good helpless…”

The heat rose to their cheeks, or maybe that was from all of their struggling? Tav wasn’t sure. They gave up on pushing the crates and twisting their body to and fro. Then, exhaling through their nose, they grumbled, “Fine. Please help me, Astarion. There, happy?”

“Your groveling skills need work,” he snorted. “But it would be cruel for me to expect a grand performance in your state. So of course, my dear, I’ll help you.” Astarion moved behind them, hands outstretching to rest on their sides. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and he rotated them to determine the best angle to pull them from. The light touches sent shivers up their spine, though he didn’t seem to notice. If anything, Tav would’ve chalked it up to the cold. Astarion moved his hands higher, now resting just below their rib cage. His fingers slid along their skin, looking for gods know what, and they jolted.

“What are you doing?” Tav cried incredulously. Lucky for them, he couldn’t see the grin tugging at the corner of their lips.  Lae’zel had already stormed off, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Helping you. Obviously.” Astarion rolled his eyes and readjusted his hold, returning to their sides. This time, he was squeezing them in an attempt to get a better grip. “And I’d have an easier time if you would hold still.” 

Tav choked on a giggle. They did the opposite of what he said and fidgeted some more. Suddenly, the impossible feat of getting themselves out on their own didn’t sound all that impossible. “Forget it, Astarion. I’ll d-do it myself..”

“Nonsense. Stop squirming, and I’ll pull you out.” 

“No, but-” 

Astarion’s fingers ghosted over their stomach, and they squeaked. He froze, and Tav felt their heart do somersaults in their chest. 

“What is the matter with you?” Astarion took his hands away from their belly, fingers resting just above their hips. The confusion was as clear as day in his voice. “You’re acting as if I’m hurting you.”

Tav remained quiet. They feared that they’d end up giggling if they spoke. 

“Tav? Am I hurting you?”

“...No.” Tav hesitated, shaking their head. They wracked their mind for a plausible explanation. “It’s just, uh, your hands. They’re cold.”

“Cold enough to feel through your clothing?” Astarion raised a brow, tone flat. “Odd. You haven’t told me that before..”

Tav didn’t even believe the tale they’d spun. “W-Well, they’re just that c—ah!” Tav squealed when he lightly pinched their hip. “Don’t do that!”

They went to smack at his hand, but hit one of the crates instead. Although they couldn’t see it, Astarion’s eyes brightened with mischief. 

“Oh, now I understand…” Astarion grinned a predatory grin, rolling his knuckles against their hip. Tav squirmed, biting down on their lip to trap the impending giggles. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”

“Noho!” The word alone sent butterflies in their stomach. They brought one of their hands up to their mouth, their other hand uselessly hitting the top of the crates. “Damn it Astarion, just pull me ouhuhut!”

“I’m trying, Tav, but you’re not making this easy for me.” Astarion shuffled closer to them, now using his thumbs to deliberately knead into their hips. Tav gasped and giggled into their hand, feet stomping into the dirt. “It’s impossible to get a good grip with you kicking around like this..”

“You’re nohoht trying!” Tav argued, bucking their hips as Astarion kept kneading into them. The ticklish sensations surged through them like electric shocks, and it was harder to suppress their frantic giggling. “Gah! S-Shihihit! When I get out of hehehehre, you’re dehehehad!”

“I’m already dead,” Astarion snorted. “But do tell me, what is so funny? Surely I am not tickling you?”

Tav growled in between their giggles. They giggled harder when he changed tactics and squeezed their hips again, again, and again. Both hands flew to their mouth to muffle their squeals. 

“Darling,” Astarion purred, “I need an answer.” 

“Gohoho to hehehell!” The dam broke, and Tav giggled freely. They twisted and bucked as much as their trapped position allowed, clawing at the crates. “Stohohohp it!”

“Stop what?” Astarion feigned confusion, nails skittering along their waistline. “I’m only trying to help, just as you asked! You’re stuck in here good, I’m afraid.”

“Nohoho! I’ll f-freehehee myself!” Tav sputtered as he dragged his nails up their belly. They shouted and shook their head back and forth, laughing loudly. “Let gOHOHOhahaha!”

“I can’t do that, dear. That would make me a terrible friend,” Astarion tutted. He stopped scritching at their belly, teasing their sides with featherlight strokes. “And, while I’m on the topic, do you know what else sours a friendship?”

Tav’s laughter died down to short, breathless giggles. Their cheeks were well beyond flushed, and they fidgeted in anticipation. “I—hah—don’t know... what?”

“Lying,” Astarion grinned and gently pinched just beneath their rib cage. Tav squealed and bucked. “For instance, pretending not to be delightfully ticklish when you very clearly are.”

Tav’s eyes widened, panic flashing across their face. “I’m—I'm nohot—”

“Ah-ah, there it is again.” Astarion double downed on his efforts, kneading one of his thumbs into the side of their belly. Tav shrieked and kicked their legs uselessly, falling back into another laughing fit. “You are an insolent little pup, aren’t you? Lying is one thing, but lying to a friend? Lying to me?” 

As if they weren’t already stuck enough, Astarion wrapped his free arm around their waist, making it much harder to squirm or kick. He continued tickling their stomach, alternating between gently scratching along their skin with his nails and kneading with his thumb. He moved at a leisurely pace, as if he had all the time in the world. And, truth be told, he did. Tav’s laughter took on a more desperate note, and they threw their head back. 

“NAHAHA! Alright! Okay! I’m sohohohorry!” Tav shouted and pounded their fist against the damned crates. They doubled over, or at least made an effort to, and squealed with laughter. “I’m sohohohohrry!”

“So you are,” he hummed. “And yet, I’m not fully convinced. You’ve already lied to me once. Who’s to say you aren’t doing it again?” He dropped to his knees, lazily raking his nails down the backs of their thighs. Tav shrieked and kicked around even more. 

“I’m nOHOHOHohohot! I’m not!!” Tav grit their teeth and giggled madly. They tried to lift their legs out of his reach, but he chased after them with minimal effort. “PLehehehehease! I’m nohoht lying!”

Astarion laughed. “You learn fast. It’s still a no, though. I’m just gutted that you would lie to me.” He pretended to sound sad while he spidered his nails along the backs of their knees. Tav howled, curling in on themselves as much as possible. “After all of the time we spent together! After I offered to help you..” 

Tav cackled when one of Astarion’s hands snuck back up to prod at their belly. He swirled his pointer finger in random patterns, scritching just shy of their hip bones, around their navel, and ending at their lowermost ribs. He did the same thing in reverse, eventually settling back on the ground to squeeze and tickle their knees and thighs. His fearless leader was a puddle of squeals and giggles, and that’s one crime he was happy to be guilty of. 

“I CAHAHAHN’T!” Tav went back to pounding their fists against the crates, eyes shining with tears. “Astarion, plehehehehehease!”

After what felt like forever, Astarion stopped tickling them. He gripped their hips and, with one firm pull, dislodged them from their trap. They fell back into him, and he held them up, still by their hips. “There you are, you’re free!” he snickered. “You’re welcome.”

Tav exhaled, shutting their eyes. They were coming down from the ticklish sensations, chest rising and falling from each breath they took. They were still smiling a bit, so what they said next had very little bite. “Bastard.”