Sweet Submission

Allen was a contradiction. She always had been, and likely always would be. If one were to ask her opinion of this statement, she might laugh and say, all people are contradictory in nature. She viewed herself as no exception to this rule.

To her comrades, she was both extremely complicated and disgustingly simple to understand. She fought to save (humanity and akumas alike) through destruction. It was her purpose, her raison d'etre. When asked about anything, the girl responded honestly and simply, yet even these blunt answers gave little away about herself. Allen, in response to Lenalee's complaints of hearing unsatisfactory explanations, said this: if you have not understood what I alluded to, then you have not lived it, and you would not understand my meaning even if I told you in plain words. Allen hid mention of darker things from those sheltered by the Black Order. All of them had suffered in some way or another, but the things they went through were simply not the same, and they would not understand: abandonment, starvation, abuse, rape. Lenalee and Kanda had suffered abuse and torture, the latter more than the former, but Allen had been a street urchin. She had experienced all of those things and more. The girl hid her shattered soul so no one would see just how jagged those rough edges actually were.

Only in the dim light of the nearly new moon, before her own reflection in a silvery pool, did she voice her darkness, confessed her dual nature. It was her sacred place; a garden housing plants for the science division's experiments. For whatever reason, no one like to go into the greenhouse on the darkest nights. So she ventured alone there during waning crescents, new moons, and waxing crescents. Alone, she looked into the abyss of her soul and confessed all of her darkest truths aloud. Lest they consume her wholly.

There was one, however, who knew each of these secrets. One who had watched her from the shadows. Allen's perfect complement. She was a lighter shade of grey, he the darker. He was openly selfish and secretly selfless; she was openly selfless and secretly selfish. He reveled in causing pain and she hated it. He flaunted his inhumanity with pride while she hid her own with compassion. They were so similar, almost the same in some ways, and yet complete opposites. Like yin and yang.

As soon as Allen learned that he had been spying on her, she had been furious. But she had also ben unable to ignore their instant connection. She knew him as well as she knew her own hands. He knew her too; every single secret, not limited to the bindings she used on her breasts to hide her sex. It was not trust—no, she would never really trust him in the traditional sense, but it certainly was a kind of trust. She trusted her comrades with her life. But her little eavesdropper she entrusted with every single secret she kept tightly clutched to her bosom.

A hand caressed the line of her throat beneath the weak moonlight the feeble crescent tried to cast down on them.

"When will you give in?" he whispered into her ear. Allen snorted.

"You'll have to be more specific," she replied tauntingly. He chuckled. The man's body felt warm and solid against her back. His soft curls tickled her neck, rough stubble scraped gently against her jawline, then ear, then throat as he nuzzled into the hollow of her neck. She resisted the urge to smile at him fondly. Absently, the girl thought it unfair that her enemy was so gorgeous, even though a part of the physical attraction lay in the strength he exuded as a fighter.

"Join us, girl," he murmured against her skin. Very nearly a kiss.

She gazed at the beautiful dying thumbnail of the moon hanging high above them.

"And her I thought you wanted just my body."

He grazed his teeth lightly against her ticklish flesh, then kissed it chastely.

"I want your everything."

It was time. She'd fought against it for so long. Promises of family and love. Dreams of being whole with her lover.

Allen turned in his arms. Gazing into golden eyes, she very nearly lost her sense of self. He looked down at her with awful, earnest, tempting promises of seduction.

"It's time," she whispered. She leaned up to his ear and whispered the only secret he still did not know. "Llean."

Her true name. Mana had never named her for his dog, though she had asked to be named in honor of the faithful companion who had saved her soul and heart. He had done things a little differently though, to fulfill her request. He took the letters from the name "Allen" and made them into a name worthy of a princess. Or so she had thought all of those years ago.

Tyki pulled back, his golden eyes burning molten. He kissed her, and she gave in. One day, she would fully surrender. But not today.

Prompt: It was time. She'd fought against it for so long.

I do apologize for not updating last weekend. I had been visiting a friend, and the trip back included a few detours that did not allow me to update on time. That aside, I hope you enjoyed this. I had always wanted to at least dabble in a female Allen AU just to see what it is like. Poker Pair is still my OTP. I would also like to thank you for taking your time to read these little prompt-things and failed plotbunnies. It truly means a lot to you would like to use any of these ideas or adopt one into a story, please feel free to tell me, as all of these have other tidbits floating around either on paper or in the back of my head and I would love to share them!

I hope you all are taking care of yourselves during this time and that you stay safe and healthy.