Number 30, with whomever you please :)
Too quick, mumbled into your scarf
Scarf makes me think of Mikasa. I hope you like femslash.
“Who might you be here to kill, Annie?” She’d recognised that perfume just a moment before she spoke, the gentleman in black with the feathered raven mask was not a gentleman at all, and Annie cursed herself for not noticing just a moment earlier, to give herself a split-second to hide her surprise.
It had been a while, she thought as she looked up at Mikasa though the eyeholes of her mask. Her dress rustled as she turned; she couldn’t pass so easily, but weren’t women always underestimated? They were both taught that, but Mikasa looked so fine in trousers, didn’t even bother to disguise herself further half the time.
Annie’s gaze swept the room, and she made her decision, letting something inside her unwind and relax. “Not tonight,” she said truthfully. “In this dress?” A good assassin knows when to retreat, after all. “I managed to get myself an invitation because I suppose I was curious to see the happy couple. And you of course you’d be here,” she added, after she realised it might be rude not to mention it. At least the awkwardness was genuine; she told herself it would throw Mikasa off.
They both turned slightly to regard the prince and princess. Eren was recognisable even under the lion mask, and Historia’s songbird costume shimmered whenever she moved, catching the eye and holding it.
She didn’t have anything against Eren. He’d visited the Academy once or twice, eager to spar with the students and good humoured in defeat. Killing him wouldn’t be a pleasure, but what blade decides who wields it?
Are they happy, she wondered. They appeared to be friends at least, and she wondered if Ymir was even still alive. So many of their classmates were dead now.
“May I?” Mikasa asked, only the curve of her bottom lip visible under the mask. She was holding out her hand.
Annie took it. They’d never talked much at the Academy, left the jokes and gossiping to others. It had always been about how they moved together. As they glided out among the other dancers, Annie felt a pang of grief. Their days at the Academy had been their best days. How could she not have seen it at the time? She’d missed her.
Mikasa bowed to her when the music ended, an uncountable number of moments later. “Annie,” she said softly. “Royal Assassins, successful or not, never live long.”
Annie withdrew her hand and thanked her for the dance.
Annie waited until the next moonless night. Mikasa was waiting for her, and they danced again. They leaped over the gaps between the buildings, fathomless chasms of darkness, clawed satin shoes whispering over the tiled roofs, blades out, edge first. Annie knew, had always known, she’d have to kill Mikasa to get to Eren.
They were both in black this time. No jewels, no feathers, no music but their own harsh breathing and the odd sounds drifting up from the city below. They both knew where the loose tiles were, had memorised the battlefield around the fine house where Eren dwelled when he visited the city.
Annie ducked under the blades, trying to get inside Mikasa’s reach, where her own daggers would punch through leather and felt and flesh. When you’re small, you fight close. Mikasa preferred to reach, long, elegant limbs matched long, elegant blades. Once Annie had been envious, but they were far beyond that.
One opening was all she needed. One opening was all she got. Mikasa’s knee went up and her elbows came down and Annie recognised her own move how could she be so stupid-
She reeled, and Mikasa turned and kicked her off the building. She’d practiced my moves-
The cobblestones were unforgiving. Annie tried to roll, felt her arm, wrist, snap, her head bounce on the ground, the air knocked out of her lungs. She lay twitching, unable to even groan as she watched Mikasa hang from the jaws of a gargoyle for a moment, then drop onto a railing and then down to the ground.
She was a dark blur, and Annie waited for death as Mikasa bent over her for a moment. Then she straightened and stepped away.
“Why,” Annie wheezed. “Are you leaving?”
Mikasa replied, but it was muffled by her scarf, and the blood in Annie’s ears.