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thekisforkeats · 3 years

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The Joys of Fandom, or, how TMA helped me rediscover my love of tea

So among the many (many) good things The Magnus Archives podcast has brought to my life, none has been quite so profound as remembering how much I love making a good cup of tea. I’ve got a whole post about how it’s helped me categorize the anxiety cloud I live with on a constant basis, how it’s gotten me writing again, and writing poetry which I haven’t done in forever, how identifying with so many openly queer boys going through so much crap has helped me figure out that I want to transition.

But.

Tea is the reason we’re here today, because making a pot of tea has become a daily ritual since I started listening to TMA, and it’s been one of those tiny things that’s changed my life profoundly, and I have TMA to thank for this almost entirely.

I did not grow up drinking tea. I am from the Seattle, Washington area, and I’m just old enough Starbucks was a popular local coffee shop when I was a kid. My parents both drank a TON of coffee, my mother basically runs on the stuff, and by the time I was 6 I was drinking coffee too. Tea, growing up, was Lipton, sometimes iced or sometimes not. I didn’t even realize herbal tea was tea. Green tea was a thing one drank at Chinese restaurants. I was not at all informed.

When I got my first job, I would stop at Starbucks during the bus layover (as once does in the Seattle area) and one day in a fit of teenaged desire to be “cool” and “writerly” because I’d seen a tin of “Writer’s Chai” in the store I bought a chai latte. I loved it, and that became my go-to Starbucks drink.

I still didn’t really get tea, but I at least started learning how to boil water in the kettle and waiting for it to actually boil, pouring it over the tea bag, etc. I didn’t put in milk or sugar because I drank coffee black unless it was a latte or a mocha. I would just sort of... boil the water and pour it over and wait a few minutes and drink the tea with the bag still in the mug.

It wasn’t until I moved to Toronto that I sat down and had a good cup of tea. The woman who hosted the social group I was part of had her particular tea-making rituals, and she encouraged me to try it with milk and sugar, and it was... amazing. Life-changing, even. My perseveration drive kicked into full swing and I had to know everything about tea and its history and how to make a proper cup and so on and so forth. I learned all I could from our hostess, and then turned to the internet.

I bought a kettle to make tea at home but my ex wasn’t really supportive of my desire to brew tea on the regular, so loose leaf and teapots and “does the milk go in in cup before or after the tea” had to wait until I moved out and got a place of my own.

Then I moved to Tallahassee.

In Tallahassee, the coffee was atrocious unless it was from a couple of specific places, mostly serving cafe con leche. But I had my own place and my own dishes and I could have a teapot and make tea and nobody could stop me. So I did. Mostly for myself, while I was contemplating things, and it was really nice to sit and stare out at the ridiculously heavy Florida rain--which hit, in Tallahassee, right about 4:15 in the afternoon all summer so perfect for tea time.

I moved back to Seattle with my spouse, and we moved into my mother’s house. For a long while we didn’t have a kitchen of our own and we had small children, so tea wasn’t a thing I did any more. I had leftover coffee (or canned/bottled coffee) for the caffeine fix, but rarely tea. When my grandmother died and we moved into her old apartment we didn’t have a stove, and I despise heating water for tea in the microwave.

So for the better part of a decade, I barely drank any tea at all. I did discover Oi Ocha in this time, which is bottled green tea from Japan, which is amazing and I love it, but again--it was in a bottle. Not a thing I was personally making.

Then I started listening to The Magnus Archives, and I really identified with Martin Blackwood, because of reasons too complicated to get into here. But it inspired me to want to make tea again, and so I started getting K-cup pods, but it just... wasn’t... right. It wasn’t the same. I mean, it was tea, but it wasn’t... tea.

So I went and bought an electric kettle, and a teapot, and a strainer, and ordered regular deliveries of loose leaf tea, and started making tea for myself and my spouse. I developed my own ritual: cold water in the kettle, put hot water into the teapot (so it doesn’t crack), put three scoops of loose leaf in the strainer. Pour out the water in the teapot when the kettle boils, put in the strainer, pour the boiling water over the strainer. Wait four minutes or so, and while you’re waiting put a splash of half-and-half in the tea mugs (milk goes first so it doesn’t scald and we like the taste of half-and-half best). Then pour the tea into the mugs. The mugs are big enough that I take three spoons of sugar and my spouse four, so put all the sugar into the mugs and then increase the entropy (aka stir) until the sugar’s dissolved. Bring the tea out into the living room, enjoy.

The first time I got it all right, and made a good cup of tea, I literally cried, I was so happy. It was like seeing the sun after it had been dark for so long I’d forgotten what the sun looked like.

The thing I have come to realize about what tea means to me is something that Jon says in the trailer for Season 5 of TMA. Martin brings him a cup of “tea” and Jon goes “that’s not tea” and, indeed, it turns out to be some weird skittering thing. The following exchange really crystallized things for me:

Jon: This is no longer a world where you can trust-- Martin: Tea?! Jon: Comfort.

And that was it, right there. Coffee is fuel, for me. Coffee is “Wake Up, Get Up, Get Out There.” (Quite literally; part of playing Persona 5 was remembering how much I love trying out new coffee blends.)

Tea, however, is comfort. Tea is slowing down. Tea is caffeine, yes, and therefore focus for my poor ADD/autistic brain, but it’s afternoon focus. It’s contemplation. It’s sitting and breathing in the aroma and thinking about things in a way that isn’t spiraling or catastrophizing. Whether it’s breakfast tea or Earl Grey or green tea, or an herbal like peppermint or chamomile, tea for me is self-care.

Taking those few minutes to get up and go make a pot of tea in the afternoon, to stop the business of the day and just stand there waiting for the kettle to boil, is something I’ve desperately needed. Coffee is easy to sort of make as “fire and forget,” to the point that I’ve gulped down cold or lukewarm coffee I’d forgotten about just because I need the caffeine. Tea, though, if you’re doing it right you have to stand there and wait for the water to boil and wait for the tea to steep. If you walk away to do something else you’ll ruin the whole thing. I completely understand why Martin is running around making tea for everyone in Season 2 all the time, because everything is falling apart in slow motion and it’s a chance to stop, to focus on making the tea, and then to take the time enjoying the tea itself.

Making tea for others also means love to me. I make tea for my spouse alongside myself. I included one of my teenaged children in tea-making for the first time yesterday and my youngest keeps getting the last bit of tea in the pot, and it’s such a joy to see their faces light up. Bringing someone tea means bringing them a mug of love and care. Another reason I identify with Martin--I often don’t know what to say to help someone, so I try to be sure they’re fed and hydrated and cared for. And I, too, had to learn to stop setting myself on fire to keep those people warm. I had to learn to be sure I was fed and hydrated and cared for, so I could care for them. But even now as I get older and wiser and grumpier I still run around making sure everyone’s fed and has had their mug of tea, I just don’t do it at my own expense anymore.

One of my next crochet projects is a tea cozy in the shape of a green owl, in honor of the Magnus Institute owl, because my little tea-making ritual is always going to be connected to TMA in my head. Also I have a “Fifteen Fears” mug and my spouse has a “Magnus Archives” owl symbol mug, so it’s literally just this really intense connection between TMA and tea, for me.

It’s funny how much comfort a horror podcast has given me since I’ve started listening. There are a few fandoms that have profoundly changed me--Star Trek was the first big one, Babylon 5 was the first that directly inspired me, Mass Effect helped me get out of suicidal depression, Persona (specifically Persona 5) inspired me to take responsibility for myself in a way therapy never quite managed.

And here I am with TMA, figuring out how to navigate anxiety and pain and grief in a world that feels like it’s falling apart around my ears. The concept that what we do matters; that right or wrong you should be making a decision instead of just reacting from fear or surprise; that sometimes you screw up and there’s nothing to be done, that “sorry” doesn’t fix everything, that sometimes nothing you do will fix anything and you can’t let that paralyze you... it’s all been necessary, and helpful, and I’ve been terribly grateful.

Thanks to TMA I’m writing again after years of terrible writer’s block. I’m facing my own fears and accepting that despite (because of?) my terrible arachnophobia I’d probably serve the Web if I served anything (although Eye and Lonely would also get a look in--I did say I identified with Martin pretty strongly). I’m recognizing dysphoria and dealing with it after years of trying to deny the elephant in the room.

I’m also making tea again. And for that, I am eternally, profoundly grateful.

#tma #the magnus archives #tea #martin blackwood #tma spoilers #i guess sort of?#i mean just in case #long post #my writing #seriously i cannot overstate how much tea means to me #it's been one of those things i didn't realize i needed until i started doing it again #i will definitely be posting pics of the tea cozy owl as i make it #because it's gonna be adorable af

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saijspellhart · 3 years

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Whoops. Another Deathshipping drabble. “They work for Kaiba” AU. Ryou and Y Marik have a bonding moment over tea.

Over the first few weeks of his new job at Kaiba Corp, Ryou noticed that Yami Marik ignored him.

Whenever he passed Malik’s former alter ego, he gave an amiable wave. But the gesture was never returned. Marik never made small talk. And would only glower if Ryou even attempted. Every smile was returned with a frown. Every compliment on Marik’s appearance received a callous side-eye. In fact, it seemed like Ryou’s very presence automatically put the Yami in a mood.

So naturally, Ryou took this as a challenge. If Ryou’s exceedingly British pleasantries ruined Marik’s day, then it would be his personal mission.

Today he’d greeted Yami Marik with, “Good morning Marik! Must have been a late night? You look positively cream-crackered this morning.”

Marik had fixed him with the most perplexed wide-eyed stare, his head tilting ever farther to the side every second his eyes bored into Ryou like knives.

Ryou smiled to himself just thinking about the encounter during his break today.

He was pouring hot water into his travel mug, a multicolored cup with the outside composed of old DnD dice set into molded resin. Yugi had gotten it for his birthday.

His hand slapped around on the shelf above for the box of tea bags. The tea was an assortment he stocked himself. Not impressed with the limited variety and cheapness of what Kaiba Corp provided, he brought his own box of higher quality blends.

Today he pulled out a bag of earl grey.

Ryou dropped the bag into the cup, just as a shadow fell over him.

An intense feeling, like someone dragging claws of ice raked down his back.

He snapped around and was nose to attractive brown collar bone with Yami Marik. Brown eyes darted up to meet unamused lavender. There were thick creases under Marik’s eyes. Ryou only intended to be cheeky this morning when he remarked about the Egyptian looking so tired. But it appeared he really was exhausted.

“Am I in the way?” His hand blindly patted around for the travel cup behind him.

“Coffee,” Marik grunted.

Ryou’s hand clasped around his cup, and he took a generous side step to the right.

Marik moved to occupy the vacated space. He reached for the metal coffee pot, while Ryou played with the string on his steeping tea bag.

“Damn it all to hell,” the Yami looked inside the coffee pot and scowled so hard he might have been peering into a portal to the shadow realm. He slammed the pot back into the machine.

“There are three more coffee machines,” supplied Ryou helpfully. He nodded to the other machines on the counter.

A long brown finger jabbed at the machine farthest on the left. “Decaf,” the finger continued down the line, “hazelnut, and light roast. Marik stopped at the machine he’d been interested in. “The dark roast is empty. I’ll have to make another pot.” He practically spit the last word like it tasted vile.

“There’s hot water if you’d like some tea?” Ryou reached a pale hand up to grab his tea box. “I’ve got some strong stuff.”

“I’m not a fop, Bakura.”

“Ryou.”

Marik blinked at him.

“Everyone called the ring spirit Bakura, I prefer to go by Ryou these days.”

“But it’s your name.” Marik leaned on the counter, taking a curious interest in the conversation.

“I know,” Ryou pulled the earl grey bag from his cup, and discarded it in the trash. “But it doesn’t feel like mine anymore. And since I’m my own person again, I’d like to be addressed as me.”

“Hn,” the Yami looked thoughtful. “That’s why I’m Marik now. It’s not a significant change but...”

“It’s yours.”

“Mm.”

“You know,” Ryou extracted a bag of out of his tea box and held it up, “smoked Lapsang Souchong is not for fops.”

Lavender eyes narrowed on the expensive tea bag.

“It sounds pretentious.”

“Imagine if you drank it. The flavors are bold and smokey, a popular tea choice among coffee drinkers,” he tried persuasively.

Marik shoved an empty mug across the counter towards Ryou.

A surge of triumph and Ryou began pouring hot water into the mug, then dropped the tea bag inside. He passed it back to the other male.

Marik stared down at the steeping tea curiously, observing the dark color bleeding into the clear liquid. He bowed his head and sniffed, but said nothing.

Ryou stirred a spoonful of Sugar in the Raw (a natural cane sugar) into his own drink, and took a sip. His nose scrunched and he added another spoonful.

Marik motioned for the sugar as well, and he obliged, sliding the container along the counter top.

“Pretentious sugar,” Marik muttered, but he scooped some into his own mug anyway, stirring it along with the still steeping bag.

After another minute—the men sitting in less tense silence—he extracted the bag from his mug, and tossed it into the trash to join Ryou’s. Then he took a experimental sip.

Brown eyes were glancing at him expectantly, but kept darting away as if trying and failing to be politely aloof.

Marik savored the flavor, letting it roll over his tongue. He took a second sip.

Rather than deign Ryou with a desired response. He collected the mug and moved to sit at one of the break tables.

“So you like it?”

Marik ignored him and took another sip. But it didn’t escape his notice that the sickly pale, white-haired male smiled victoriously behind his own cup of tea.

~0000~

Check out my blog for more Deathshipping drabbles in this AU.

#deathshipping #ryou bakura #yami marik #yami marik ishtar #yami malik #they both work for kaiba #they’re office buddies #an au where they both work for kaiba #drabble #fanfic #fanfiction #yugioh duel monsters #ygo dm #yugioh #bonding over tea

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lady-of-all-cards · 3 years

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Ikemen Revolution: Spiked Love (Zedgar NSFW One-Shot)

NSFW One-Shot Statistics: Pages: 4 Word Count: 2203 Characters: 12377 Characters (without spaces): 10214

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Characters: Edgar Bright, Zero (Ikemen Revolution) Pairings: Edgar Bright/Zero Summary: To find the Ace of Hearts sharing a comfortingly warm cup of tea in the room of his sword master was no rare occurrence, but with a spiked drink and the captivating jaden eyes of the Crimson Jack, he is roped into a night he wont soon forget...

WARNINGS: BL (BxB), NSFW. Reader discretion is highly recommended. If you are choosing to read this, I hope you enjoy as always! Notes: I haven’t seen a single NSFW shot for this ship, so I’m taking matters into my own hands and write my own. This is my first time writing and posting something like this, so if it’s awful and you think I can improve somehow, constructive criticism is welcome!

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

The sound of steaming water clattering into a ceramic cup, the rattling of a spoon on the walls containing the sweetened drink, were so comfortable familiar amongst the soft yellow walls that Zero paid his sword master no visual attention as he sat on the sofa.

He revealed how comfortable, as something he had quickly noticed was that the Ace of Hearts got the short end of the stick in comfortable furniture. Where Zero could get uncomfortable after a while, and made walking a hobby, the sofa he sat on now felt more like a cloud, dipping to fit his form perfectly.

The tap of a cup on a glass place mat brought Zero out of his reverie, and he looked up at Edgar as he settled beside him, his own cup of Earl Grey tea trapped between his hands.

“I’m surprised, Zero.” His light, airy voice began. “It’s rare for you to come by this late, but I guess I shouldn’t complain.” He added, a cheeky, but wistful smile crossing his lips.

“Why shouldn’t you complain?” Zero asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he leaned forward to pick up his drink, only just missing the way Edgar shuffled back and squirmed to get comfortable.

“I rarely get the pleasure of even a smile in the hallway from you nowadays.” Zero frowned, turning to scowl at the Jack. “Now now, there’s no need for that look, is there?” This time, Zero managed to catch Edgar’s lip being caught between his lips and how he swallowed thickly after. Zero would be lying if he said it wasn’t a good look for Edgar, but it wasn’t something he would admit, so he settled back in his seat and took a sip of his steaming tea.

The two sat just like that, sharing reports and memories in a rare moment between them, a moment neither of them wanted to end, but it was as Zero took the last sip of his now lukewarm that he noticed his body was heating up...

As he bit his lip, Edgar watched as Zero began to squirm, knowing that the aphrodisiac was beginning to settle into Zero’s bloodstream.

“Something up, Zero? You look a bit... uncomfortable.” That comment was all it took for Zero to try to muster an angered and accusing glare, but the waves of pleasure coursing through him prevented an effective glance.

“Wh- what did you do to me>!” He panted, his chest heaving as he squirmed more, the intensity of the pleasure becoming near critical as he rubbed his thighs together.

Edgar took a moment to drink in the sight before him- his love squirming, knowing he couldn’t leave and risk being caught by another, but knowing remaining could be just as risky and dangerous...

Just as it looked like Zero was going to stand up, his commander straddled his thighs, running his gloved hands over Zero’s unfortunately clothed chest. Zero’s hand flew to Edgar’s thigh, pushing against it, trying to resist the actions of his commander.

“Ed-Edgar?!” Zero panted, both in fear and anticipation.

“A simple aphrodisiac, nothing too bad. Trust me- it could be a lot worse. I just decided to be kind for the first time...”

“F-first time?! Edgar- ngh-”

Whatever protest Zero had died on his throat as Edgar leaned down to nibble on his neck, skillfully hiding a hickey over the ominous tattoo. Zero’s free hand grabbed the nape of Edgar’s neck, both pulling him closer and pushing him away as Edgar slowly ground his hips, giving himself pleasure whilst at the same time teasing Zero, not quite touching where the Ace needed it most.

“You should be a little quieter, Zero.” Edgar purred in his ear, nibbling on the soft cartilage, pushing a moan through Zero’s now mangled lips, his eyes screwed shut. His hand gripped Edgar’s hip tighter, pushing it back, conflicted still, but it was this movement that finally forced Edgar back, but of his own volition.

Edgar sat near the top of Zero’s knees, looking down at Zero, waiting patiently for the Ace to meet his eyes. Already Zero was a moaning mess, his innocence and inexperience shining in the face of how sensitive his body was. Eventually his clouded sky blue orbs met the jaded ones. Edgar’s long fingers gently grazed over Zero’s cheek, and Zero once again lost his breath at the look he was receiving from his superior- it was something he had never expected to see, something gentle, something close to adoration...

“I... I... I won’t do this without your permission, Zero.” Edgar breathlessly whispered, looking away. It appeared that he was losing hope, and for a moment, looked pained and nervous.

It made Zero pause for a moment. For once in his life, Edgar seemed serious. He wasn’t teasing him, his trademark smile had faded, and he looked broken. Right now, he was more transparent than ever. And honestly... Zero was impartial to Edgar’s beauty, skill and mysterious auror.

The Ace reached up to the hand pressed against his cheek, lacing his fingers with Edgar’s gloved ones. His other hand tightened where it rested on the Jack’s hip, sliding him down his legs to rest comfortably in his lap. Edgar’s face softened more into a shockingly sweet smile as he laid his head on Zero’s shoulder.

Everything was shocking Zero, but seeing Edgar so small and vulnerable, curled up in his lap gave him, for the first time in the eight years since he’d known the benevolent devil, a sense of control. He saw this as his only chance to dominate the man, as sadistic as it was to a man presenting his weaknesses so easily...

But Zero made up his mind. He had suffered Edgar’s teasing too long to let this opportunity slip through his fingers, which had moved to slowly explore Edgar’s body. At least, his left hand did. His right hand, clasped in Edgar’s, squeezed the other’s hand, slowly rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

Although his movements were slow, it was clear Zero was exploring the limits, both nervous and excited about every new revelation. Edgar wasn’t very sensitive, his body trained to ignore such desires, and his pristine white and red uniform wasn’t offering Zero many advantages either, but for a moment, when Zero’s hand was sneaking up his thigh, moving to the trademark jacket, pressing a bit more pressure in that one special spot had Edgar tensing and twitching, clutching his protege tighter.

It actually forced a smirk to cross Zero’s expression, but the pleasurable feeling quickly passed as Zero’s touch climbed higher and higher, eventually picking apart each and every one with one hand. He didn’t want to let go of Edgar’s other hand, knowing that taking this leap took a lot of courage for the usually secluded officer.

Coming to the last button, Zero was forced to pry his hand from Edgar’s to slip the garment off his shoulders, but he never let the hand leave him, trailing the comforting heat up his arm and over his shoulders as Zero tugged the overcoat down his arms.

The jacket, however, was momentarily trapped at Edgar’s elbows as the Jack sat up and immediately locked his lips with his dearest Zero, passion sparking more magic between them than any crystal could hope to do. Edgar’s hands tangled in Zero’s hair, pulling him closer as he kneeled more for leverage. He wasn’t exactly trying to dominate Zero, but it was painfully clear that he wanted

, a lust had taken over his body, a need only satable by Zero’s touch.

Edgar did, however, take matters into his own hands by pulling his jacket off, and manhandling Zero for a few moments to do the same, never once breaking the intoxicating kiss. Zero held Edgar’s hips to him tightly, and for a moment, the pure, raw emotions bottled up inside the young Bright was poured in that kiss, speaking miles more than any spoken word could.

Pulling away, Edgar slowly began to unbutton the soft white jumper Zero always wore under his uniform jacket, tugging at the belt and holster wrapped around Zero before unbuckling his own and tossing them off to the side, abandoned until the morning. The base endurance of the two men was great, but even their breath came short as they pulled apart. They pressed their foreheads together, taking a moment to just enjoy the other, both partially undressed, both panting, both transparent and bare for the other.

“I never thought-” the second of hesitation in Edgar’s words was all Zero needed to gently peck his lips.

“Don’t think, not now.” He gave that heartwarming smile, a smile he rarely gave Edgar anymore, but one that had been seared into his brain since the first time Zero smiled when they were young. It hurt his heart, but it was a pleasant pain, a pain that promised a future of even a slither of happiness. Tears pricked to Edgar’s eyes as he looked down.

“Zero... thank you...” He whispered, refusing to show this level of weakness, but it was hard to hide, and the way he was being held made it almost impossible for him to easily leave. He felt too vulnerable and he hated it, but the soft hand that reached up to wipe at his eye and kiss his cheek chased the doubt away. Zero didn’t care about his past and his aversions, of course he didn’t, Zero just wanted people to be happy, to smile, and no matter how hard he tried, Edgar couldn’t help the bright, sweet smile that crossed his lips, and Zero just couldn’t help kissing his lips in response.

Piece by piece, each article of their clothing was peeled off their bodies, which quickly began to rise in temperature, a layer of sweat pouring over their bodies. Edgar became gradually quieter, knowing he was now in no position to turn the tables and dominate Zero. Hell- he was struggling to not crumble into a moaning mess at Zero’s gentle strokes, nevermind what he knew was to come. He was nearly quivering at the thought...

Zero’s hand, which had been gently stroking as Edgar’s head lay against his chest, moved to nudge against Edgar’s lips. He whimpered for a second, turning away just to feel the comforting stroke of his calloused fingers. Zero obliged, knowing Edgar liked to have control of the situation he was in. The younger male slowly nudged his fingers occasionally against Edgar’s lips, and eventually, the Jack took the two fingers into his mouth, moaning at the feeling surfacing deep within his gut.

It was embarrassing, to say the least, to have not only his subordinate, but also his personal protege, but there was a part of him that didn’t care it was Zero, a part of him that had such a strong love for the boy that nothing else mattered in that moment but his love, and his touch. But even that thought couldn’t prepare him for the pleasure brought on by only Zero’s finger...

Initially, it felt weird. He, as the heir of the Bright family, was raised to believe everything about this was ‘unnatural’, but the thing so far that was even close to the description was how much pleasure mere fingers could provide. His body was set ablaze, and helpless moans and breathless begs of Zero’s name played off his lips like a piano, some notes harsh, some soft, and some horribly out of tune, with Zero as the conductor, sat in his plush seat with the gentle control of a professional, despite his innocence in the area.

But that was when the ‘main event’ came. Although Zero had been sure to carefully prepare Edgar, it still hurt like hell to enact the pleasure they were both seeking, however... there was one thing Edgar noticed...

Zero had stopped manhandling him to what position he wanted Edgar in, handing the control to Edgar, letting him take it how he wanted, go at what speed he wanted. Of course he would. Even in a situation like this, Zero’s concern was everywhere but himself. Even when Zero finally had the control between them, he still gave it back to him, sending another pang of pleasing pain through his heart.

Edgar took it slowly, sinking down onto Zero with caution, gasping at the sensation. He knew that Zero would, of course, be bigger than a mere two fingers, but there was a vast difference in length and width that it took a good moment for him to fully adjust to it, though it was no less pleasurable, he’d even go to say it felt better, far better, than just to fingers.

And the effects were the same.

Edgar was softly panting, starting slowly, not wanting to rush things. He didn’t know how pleasurable it was for Zero, but he didn’t want to overload him. For this first time, it had to be special. Slow... sensual, and a display of emotion rather than just meaningless raw sex...

The two men indulged each other through the night, finally exploring the limitations of their relationship into something more... being more selfish than either dared to ever be...

#ikemen revolution #edgar bright #zero #zedgar #smut

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watchingcutscene · 5 years

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The Legacy of Earl Grey Tea

Pairing: Levi x Reader

The abrasive, vulgar, and indifferent man was humanity's strongest. Rather uncharacteristic of his occupation as a soldier, he was a clean freak; and despite how he seemed, Levi had a side of morality and empathy. He valued the life of his comrades more than most would think. No one had ever overtly acknowledged his aberrant compassion, but the soldiers in his squadron all knew. Behind unuttered words and his constant look of dismay, the man was more caring than he gave himself credit for. Levi despised the Jaeger brat. His temper and rash desire for revenge was eventually going to become his own undoing. Between the two of them, Levi saw an uncanny resemblance, and every time he was forced to confront this hot-tempered kid, guilt would flood his senses. That was why he despised him. In his early days of service, Levi was consumed by the death of his two friends. The guilt and anger resulted from his loss led him to resort to the most reckless of decisions. He cared about nothing other than slaughtering titans, not even his own life. In fact, recalling the scene when those titans devoured his friends like livestock, he might as well have died too. Levi was nowhere the calm and rational man the Survey Corps had known him to be today. Breaking formation, running off on his own, utterly ignoring the mission of expeditions to slaughter every titan in sight was what he was known for. His comrades died trying to protect him, but there was a fire that burned his lungs that could not be settled because every time he looked in the mirror, he saw a gaping hole in his chest that no amount of revenge could fill. But he forged on ahead, one titan at a time, even at the cost of his comrades. Returning from every expedition, the captain of his squadron would scold him, but he had no ear for that. Overtime, Levi became trapped in his isolation, convincing himself that no one was ever capable of understanding his pain. But no one’s misery was ever theirs alone. Levi’s life was not void of blessings. He was just too consumed by his grief to see it. The leader of his squadron was a Corporal, about the same age as he. She made an effort to end his solitude. In the evenings when he skipped his meals, she’d stop by his room with bread and tea. The offering was first subjected to blunt rejection. He coldly declared that he “didn’t want it”, and shut the door before she could even utter a word. When Levi took his 2 am strolls during those sleepless nights, he would catch her in her office, door open to let in the breeze, catching up on paperwork. At first they would at most exchange glances when he passed, but soon, she began inviting him in. Those sleepless nights turned into regular visits to her office, where she would brew earl grey. Levi sat rather defensively between the cushions on her couch, not moving an inch. Between her paperwork, she would look up and urge for him to drink the tea, “it won’t taste good when it’s cold”, was a phrase that frequented her lips. When Levi finally accepted her offering of dinner brought to his room, she began their first real conversation. “You can’t always go out in expeditions breaking formations recklessly like that,” she said calmly, getting straight to the point, a ghost of a smile playing upon her lips. Levi immediately began regretting his decision of letting her in. It turned out, she was just the same as everyone else. He paused for a long time before replying, “It’s our jobs to kill titans. I’m not going to stay in formation and run away from titans like the rest of those cowards.” She looked up at him, her (eye colour) eyes into his grey ones, firm and unyielding, “It’s our job to go outside the walls, complete the mission, and come back alive.” He stared at her, his anger written all over his handsome features. “Everyone here has lost someone,” she said, pouring him a cup of her tea. Seeing his silence, she continued, “you can’t let your past haunt you forever.” Her casual tone set off Levi. His steely eyes were cold when he barked at her, “what do you know about my past?” This woman that was no older than he had a maturity almost unfitting for her age, “I know what it feels like to lose friends,” she paused, watching the expression on his face skew with anger, “I lost my squad, my friends, one by one, out there, because of you.” Levi froze. The expression on her face remained calm, like all the late nights in her office, the smell of earl grey never ceasing. “Human lives are fragile,” she said with a tenderness that made Levi subconsciously relax his features, “the only thing we can do is protect what we still have.” She stood up to leave. “By the way,” she turned to meet his gaze, the ghost of a smile never leaving her visage, “your room is a mess. You need to clean up after yourself.” When she opened the wooden door, a breeze that was the declaration of spring embraced her. The loose hairs of her pony tail fluttered, and for the first time, the gaping hole in Levi’s chest found a piece of itself in the ineffable sorrow that existed in her smile She was a girl who had a way with words. The saying opposites attract had proven itself in the case of Levi and (y/n). While Levi’s words were a scarcity saved for only special occasions, she did not spare him of much silence. “Drink your tea before it gets cold.” “When was the last time you washed your sheets? They smell disgusting.” “Do you have the formation memorized?” “The dust in your room is as thick the Military Police’s skulls.” But somehow, Levi found solace and liberation in her nagging. There never had been anyone who cared enough for him to spare words of such quantity. There were little things Levi had noticed and grown attached to. She was tender and kind, qualities unfit for a soldier, but her glare was strong an unyielding, just like her fists during combat training. She had an affinity for cleaning, claiming it made her feel calm, which made it all the more annoying when she entered Levi’s quarters as he seemingly was “incapable of cleaning up after himself”. Her finger tips were always a little cold because she was anemic due to a previous injury. And should there ever be a shortage of earl grey tea in her office, she would enter a state of distress, muttering “the legacy of earl grey tea cannot end yet” while frantically searching for another stash. They began appearing as a pair. Somewhere along the line, their comrades had probably started gossiping about their relationship, but neither he nor she were the kind to keep up with gossip. Being with her was a constant process of finding pieces of himself. In her nagging, in her tea, in her fingers, and in her ghostly smile. It was as if he was waiting for the final piece to fill that gaping hole before he could return the favour and utter for her three words that might become a turning point in their lives. But that turning point had a slight variation in outcome. In the midst of that summer was the 38th expedition. It was also her last. Before leaving, she repeated to him again and again “don’t break formation”, “follow my orders”, “if you see a titan, ignore it unless otherwise commanded”, until Levi interrupted. “I understand, (y/n),” staring directly into her (eye colour) orbs, a rare smile played upon his lips. She paused, processing his smile, and returned a toothy grin of her own. Of all the things that could have went wrong, it was Levi. Half way through the expedition, the Squadron ahead was attacked by four titans. (y/n) commanded to not break formation, and to follow Erwin’s orders, which was to avoid any contact with titans by all means necessary. She led the squad East of the original path, hoping to move around the titans. Not long into their detour, they caught sight of two titans trailing the squad. They were abnormal ones. The team continued forward, hoping to outrun them, but slowly, they were closing in. “There’s no way we can outrun them,” Levi called out to (y/n), catching up beside her. “We have to,” she said, eyes focused ahead, “there’s no way the five of us can take out two abnormal 15 meters.” “We have no choice!” Levi shouted. (y/n) did not respond. Her brows were drawn into a frown and her lips pursed into a thin line. Seeing her inaction, Levi declared, “I’ll go distract them and slow them down. You guys keep going, I’ll catch up,” and slowed his horse. “Levi!” (y/n) screamed, but he was already far behind them, heading to the opposite direction. “There’s no way he can stopped them on his own!” a member of her squad called out, “we need to go help him!” She hesitated, features twisted in a way they never have before. The kind and tender girl was gone. “I’ll go,” she announced, “you guys go on full speed to the meeting place. Don’t send reinforcements back to help us. I want to minimize the casualties. We’ll meet up with you in an hour, and if we don’t…” she swallowed, “continue following Erwin’s orders,” and before anyone could protest, she turned her horse and followed Levi’s trail. When she almost caught up to him, she called his name. His expression when he turned to see her was the most she had ever seen on his face. It was of shock and disappointment. “Why are you here?” he screamed above the sound of sprinting horses. “For you!” she shouted back. His expression became more intense, “are you insane?!” he roared, much unlike the indifferent soldier she had grown to know and love. “No,” she replied, “but you are!” The exchange was interrupted by the thumping of the two giant’s footsteps. The titans were less than a mile away and the Corporal and her soldier prepared their maneuver gear. They both knew these were unfavourable circumstances. Two soldiers, no matter how skilled, simply could not take down two 15 meter abnormal titans in a flat area with no trees. He only wanted to buy time for the rest of the team to escape, and she wanted to be there with him because she didn’t want to be the one left behind. And she wasn’t. He was. Levi had always been skilled. He took out the first titan with considerable ease. When (y/n) latched on to the second titan’s left shoulder with her gear, it grabbed the wire with its right arm, yanking her off her horse. Abnormal titans were always hard to deal with, but she reacted quickly and bounced off of its arm. Giving it a second try, she swung around to the backside, attempting to slash its nape, but the titan still had a grip on her wire, which it pulled. The force took her by surprise, and she found herself hanging by one wire as the titan lifted her to its mouth. The humid wind gushing out from its mouth became a sign of the end. At some point she heard Levi cry out for her, but her eyes were closed shut. The titan opened its jaws and lowered her into it, and behind her shut lids she could sense the light fading form the world. The adrenaline never ceased, so when its jaws closed, she did not feel pain. She felt herself free falling. Then something – someone – caught her. When she dared to open her eyes she was in Levi’s arms as he rushed toward the abandoned horses. The titans behind them were on the ground with smoke evaporating from their limp bodies. Her eyes focused on his visage, and there was blood. Everywhere. She panicked. “Are you –” her lips were dry and her voice raspy, “are you bleeding?” They had reached the horses by then, and he lifted her up first before getting on himself, still cradling her in his arms. He rode the horse at full speed before sparing her a glance. On his face she saw the most amount of sadness she had ever seen on him. Like a child, helpless and defenceless. “It’s you,” his voice was raspier than hers, almost as if he was going to cry, “it’s your blood…” By then, the adrenaline had started to wear down. And as she examined her blood-stained body, she found, accompanied by an increasingly vivid pain, the absence of her left arm. She did not panic. “I’ll treat it,” Levi’s voice was urgent. His grip on the harness a little tighter than it should have been, and his lips quivered. “I’ll stop the blood as soon as we get to somewhere safe.” It was late in the afternoon. The sun had begun its retirement. She grew increasingly cold and attempted to draw herself closer to him. His usual scent was overwhelmed by the metallic smell of blood. In these last moments of amity, she struggled to find traces of the one she loved. They managed to reach the meeting place, where the other squadrons had already arrived. The rest of their team rushed forward upon seeing the blood covered Levi and the tiny ball curled up in his arms. She could only register selected chunks of time at this point. “Get a medic!” someone had screamed. She felt Levi’s warmth leave her as she was lowered to the ground. Levi watched her half-hooded eyes flutter open and shut. Her expression changed with her varying states of consciousness. The medic roughly wrapped the stub that was her arm. Blood immediately soaked through the bandages. “That’s all we can do right now,” the medic turned to him, “the blood should stop soon. If there’s no delay, we can get back inside the walls before it’s too late.” “It will be too late,” his jaw was clenched, “isn’t there something we can do now? She won’t make it to the walls!” his voice made the young medic shutter, a deep roar that held more emotion than he was ever able to express to her. “Our medicine cart was lost with one of the squadrons that got attacked,” the medic became defensive, “she will make it to the walls, she won’t lose that much blood that quick!” Levi took a sharp inhale of air. A pounding doom finally lowered onto his shoulders. When he spoke, he found his words shaking and barely audible, the moisture finally overturning his vision, “she’s anemic…it’ll be too late”. This became their turning point. He lowered his head and let out all the demons he guarded with his stone-cold features. Tears rained down like an April shower. For a second, in his blurred vision of her fading existence, he saw the complete truth of this world, the cold relentless cycle of death. Somewhere, a longing was born into this god forsaken world, never to be answered never to be fulfilled. He cursed again and again under his breath that they were all damned and cursed and how he wished his heart were stone. This rage was only interrupted when he felt a cold hand placed on his. When he opened his eyes as more tears poured out, she was there. For a second, he thought everything was going to be okay, but when she signaled for him to lean in, and her words were barely fathomed into a full breath, he was reminded that this was all real. “Don’t give up okay?” she breathed into his ear, “you can’t give up. I won’t let you.” “How?” his voice was a mess of out of tune sounds, “You all leave one after another, I don’t even have anything to give up on.” “You do,” she said, exhausting laboured breaths in between words, “yourself.” His eyes rained harder. He suddenly couldn’t even remember why he forced his composure for all this time. What would have happened if he didn’t run off and break formation? What would have happened if he took her orders? She had a way with words. In the end, it was she who saved his life “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” In his early days of service, Levi was consumed by the death of his two friends. He was nowhere the calm and rational man the Survey Corps had known him to be today. It took a Corporal with an obsession with tea, one who had a way with words, to make a soldier out of him. She filled the gaping hole in his chest with little pieces of amity but decided to take one with her before she completed him in the end. When he took over her job, he lived up to her title. He cleaned his office more often than necessary. He became cool and level headed and learned to take orders. He had a soft spot that was compassion for his comrades and utter disgust for impulsive decisions and sacrifice. All in the name of carrying forth the legacy of her earl grey tea.

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