#Talk Show Skirmish

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

You are the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; when a mix of common folk and soldiers drag you from your bed you are already resigned to whatever fate they have chosen for you. You are dragged out in your sheer silk nightwear and forced to your knees in the mud of the main road. Glancing up you see the figures opposite, the enemy, the great hulking orcs your husband angered. Above you, you hear frantic talking - frantic, useless. None of you speak their tongue.

Finally, in desperation, you crawl forward and bow your head, pulling your hair aside to bare your neck. Surely that cannot be misunderstood. You are willing to give your life for peace. The townspeople are hardly going to let you live either way.

(You are the chieftain of an orc clan reluctantly drawn into this skirmish as a matter of honour, and when the humans drag out a small, helpless one of their own and offer it you hesitate. It is dressed in silk and wears jewels at its neck and throat, which means it is important. As grotesque as the practice is to you, your sense of pride, you know they often exchange hostages between themselves. You glance at your second, who visibly rolls her eyes but nods. Any excuse to go home.)

The orcs do not kill you there and then, but take you; you cannot tell yet if that is a mercy or a misfortune. You are bound at the wrists and ankles and flung over an orc soldier's shoulder like a sack of grain, and passed between many of them during the journey. In their own language they joke and laugh as they pass you over, sometimes pinching at the bare skin of your thigh where your clothes have hitched up.

At their camp you are deposited in the tent of the chieftain. You have heard rumours of what they do with captives, and between being ravaged until broken or eaten alive you do not know what to hope for. You merely lie there, limp and trembling slightly, until you hear the sound of someone entering. The hulking orc chieftain looks at you, tusked face unreadable, then drags you upright by a fistful of your hair to briefly press a flask to your lips. When you have gulped nearly all the water he drops you, grunts and leaves. He does not return to the tent the entire night. You know this, because the low buzzing terror in the back of your mind doesn't let you sleep.

(You hardly know what to do with the little thing. Your comrades say it is easy to carry but odd, it is full grown by the look of it but doesn't struggle at all or even try to bargain in its babbling little language. Maybe it is unwell. You order it placed in your tent and give it water yourself, but it shows no more signs of life, dull-eyed and staring at nothing. You decide to let it sleep and go back outside to drink until you pass out under the stars and the warm summer skies.)

On the second night you are taken to a river before camp, and following the example of those around you, you wash yourself; as you return to the riverbank you find your clothes gone. The orcs watch you, even the smallest of them half-again your size. You swallow your fear and walk naked back to the chieftain's tent. Once there you lower yourself to your hands and knees on the bedroll, bare skin still damp from the water. You cannot stop him from taking you, but perhaps it will hurt less or be over faster if you comply.

The orcs chieftain makes a brief, almost hissing sound at the sight of you, but does not leave this time. Their hand brushes across your back and you can feel their claws retracting. They touch and inspect you like a prize hound and you keep your eyes to the ground, tears of shame welling up. Then he presses two large, blunt fingers inside you, and you brace yourself. He fingerfucks you lazily for a minute or so before suddenly growling something you don't understand and turning you on your back, so you scramble to reposition yourself and hold your legs wide. He cradles your face in both his hands as he slowly sinks his swollen cock into you, larger than you think you could ever take and stretching you painfully yet unable to look away from his face. Your husband used to force you to look at him like this only when he wanted to watch you cry, so you brace yourself for the firm hold to turn into hard slaps that leave your ears ringing.

(The little thing washes with the others and you are approaching the tent with an armful of fabric in what you hope is close to their size when you are hit with the unexpected sight of them uncovered in your tent, positioned as any orc begging to be bred would be. You have to smother a gasp and restrain yourself; it has been too long, and little thing's fragile shape and delicate features are somehow all the more appealing for their strangeness. But you were raised well, taught that all parties must agree before partners bed each other; you don't know their tongue to ask them. You seek permission from their body language instead, first touching their back, the curve of their ass and leg, then with tentative fingers in their soft tight little hole. They do not flinch or try to flee, and they wetten for your fingers. Surely you can continue? Forgetting yourself you ask out loud.)

You wait to be hit. It doesn't happen. You wait to used rough and hurt inside; it doesn't happen either.

The looming figure of the great orc warrior above you moves with an almost incongruous care, pressing into you slowly and then simply resting there until your body becomes accustomed enough to his huge cock that he can start to move without tearing you. It's almost as if his gaze on your face is tracking the small hitched breaths or softening of your expression to know when he can begin to carefully thrust. Yet that makes no sense to you. Men have never used you so gentle, why would a savage orc do so?

He is big enough it does hurt some little but that sensation is soon overwhelmed by another, unfamiliar and disorienting; a low heat building your abdomen, a curl of pleasure that makes you whimper. Another growl comes in response, so you try to quieten, but his expression - it is so hard to read, so different, but he does not look angry.

(You are confused and troubled, but the tight heat of the little thing is so perfect around your cock. They are acting like a new prospective mate, taking your body like a mate would, but when you watch their face to try and find the answers you'd normally seek out loud there is something missing. You fuck them very gently, as such delicate pretty things should be treated, and forget yourself enough to apologise out loud when they whimper. You promise them in words they don't know that you want to make them feel good, you will stop if they struggle even once, that they are safe with you.)

The orc chief finishes with a single deep thrust and you can feel your abdomen swell with how filled you are, a little of their cum already beginning to leak down your thighs. He pulls away and you instinctively curl in on yourself, protective - the sound he makes in response is urgent but more distressed than angry. He paws at you to uncurl, look at him again; as you tilt your face up and force your body to relax he huffs and lowers his great head between your legs. Before you can even process it his rough tongue is on you, and you can feel the smooth dangerous weight of his tusks against your inner thighs. The rush of banked pleasure is equally unexpected, as he coaxes a climax from you that leaves you shaking. Afterward you are gathered up like a doll in his arms, and for the first time in three days actually believe you may be safe. Very, very, tentatively, you reach for his face and pause halfway in question.

(The little thing flinches only afterwards, but it does flinch and you immediately fight back a rush of guilt and worry. Rank be damned, the clan will not stand for taking any person unwilling, even a human one. You try to comfort them with small touches, check their face for signs of what's wrong. They are unreadable. You check between their legs and can tell they did not quite find pleasure yet, so quickly duck your head to correct it. Perhaps that is what was wrong, because when their body responds they do not flinch away from being held close. They even reach for your face, and after you nod encouragingly they trace their tiny fingers over the ridges of your skin and kiss nervously at the smooth curve of your tusk. You thrill, but say nothing; maybe they have no idea what an intimate gesture that is. You just happily nestle close.)

You were the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; now, it seems, you are claimed by the warrior chief who bested him and the bedmate of a mighty orc who is gentler with you than said husband ever was and - slightly endearingly - buries his face in the crook of your neck with a low rumbling sound not unlike a purr when sleepy and post-coital.

.

#monsterfucker confessions

[xcrust]

Now in Technicolor

Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss x Reader Insert

“Tune in folks! demons and damned souls, welcome back to the sultry airwaves of Hell's very own station. I must say, dear listeners, Hell has a certain charm, doesn't it? A cacophony of screams, the crackle of flames, and the subtle whispers of secrets that linger in the shadows. It's a splendid orchestra of despair, and I am here to be your guide through the infernal playlist” 

You expected the man to be insane but you didn't expect him to be so unshameful. 

“So, grab a pitchfork, kick back, and let the music of the damned serenade your darkened souls! Now let's talk about my latest massacre-” 

As of the moment you're not actually with him. Though him doing his broadcast that reigns in all of hell almost feels like he's still beside you all along. As your point of freedom away from your family you decided it was best to get to know hell from the very people that walked the streets. 

Since he began taking you under his wing, you decided to stay with him till you find your place to settle down. 

You were an early riser so the radio was not really a bother. The weird universal agreement to decide night and day here is such a fascination to you. Nevertheless being hell meant there was never a time without someone awake causing chaos. The game plan of working your way up the charts is what your dad always said while growing up, "Don't take shit from other demons”. Starting with that is to gain a more hopeful advantage in knowing the people. 

“Watch this!” a really grimy voice screamed out. Looking that way you could see a few imps running around gathering people's attention.

One taller than the average imp stood with horns adorned in flickering embers, cackling with glee as he addressed his chaotic minions. "Listen up, you fiendish crap! I think it's time to start a new and take back what should be rightfully ours”

In the heart of pentagram city, the joy that you get from seeing the disaster is always so fulfilling. You may be new to these parts but boy does it give you a rush. 

A sleek abyssal demon slinked through the crowd, leaving a trail of illusions in its wake. The demon could not only morph into various grotesque forms but the path that it was leaving behind was startling and amusing onlookers. As it danced between the dimensions of reality and illusion, confused demons stumbled into each other, inadvertently causing a chain reaction of minor skirmishes and squabbles. But what you didn't expect was for him to come up to you. 

“They do this every week, by now it should get through their heads no one is going to listen” His voice was deep. It was such a buttery kind of smooth. 

“I don't know there seems to be a crowd starting” with a smile you look up at him to see an amused look on his face. 

The scene in front of you did intrigue you a lot. The bottom of the food chain in hell trying to make a voice for themselves. Their treatment is a peculiar mix of disdain and indifference. Larger demons may kick an imp out of the way without a second thought or summon them with a snap of their fingers for trivial purposes. Imps are often subjected to the capricious whims of their more powerful counterparts, enduring cruel pranks and occasional bouts of aggression.

Though you never thought that, though treated as the lowest rung of the demonic hierarchy, imps often find themselves at the mercy of their more powerful counterparts. They serve as the labor force, taking on a myriad of roles and responsibilities that range from menial tasks to dangerous assignments. Whether it's cleaning the twisted architecture of demonic structures or scurrying about as messengers delivering missives between the higher-ups, imps are ubiquitous fixtures in the daily hustle of Hell

“The pride ring is the top show in these parts and what do we get?! We get booted to the side and have to deal with the hypocrisy of these stupid standards!!” Those who spoke up before started chanting about rights for imps. 

Certainly something that you would stand behind. Maybe it's a closed minded thought process but what was the point of souls from earth having more respect than the ones from here? 

The heartbreaking sight was to see them run out. Demons of all kinds were starting to riot against them. In the face of adversity, the mischievous imps vowed to continue their antics, proving that even the smallest creatures could leave an indelible mark on the tumultuous canvas of Hell The Hellraisers disappear into the chaotic crowd, leaving a trail of bewildered demons and a street strewn with toppled stalls. with mayhem reigning supreme in the darkened streets.

“It's stupid and kinda sad to watch” The man stood beside you huffing out. 

“Aren't you a hypocrite, you're an earthborn yourself aren't you?” the ego that these people have never stops amazing you everyday. 

“Yeah… just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm set in stone as a bad person… Though looking at you, I'd guess you're like myself but you look almost a little too perfect for a human” crossing his arms he looked at you. 

“That's because im-! You know who you are anyways dickbag”  This guy was seriously putting you off. Comparing you to whatever those disappointments are. 

“Pump the hate breaks… I'm Walter by the way.. Since you asked." The cadence of his voice was so politician based that it could lead you to go insane. 

As the chaos unfolded around you, Walter's nonchalant demeanor seemed to contrast sharply with the tumultuous scene. The imps' attempts to rally for their rights had escalated into a full-blown street brawl, with demons of varying sizes and shapes joining the fray. The air resonated with shouts, roars, and the occasional yelp from an imp caught in the crossfire.

"Quite the spectacle they're putting on, isn't it?" Walter questions raising an eyebrow

You observed the chaos with a mix of fascination and concern. The imps were outnumbered and outmatched, yet their resilience and determination to stand up against the status quo intrigued you.

"Yeah, it is," you replied, eyes still fixed on the scene. "Seems like they're fed up with being pushed around."

Walter chuckled, a dry sound that echoed through the cacophony. "Oh, they've been trying to make a statement for ages. It's almost cute."

"Cute?" You shot him a disapproving look. "They're fighting for their rights. It's not cute; it's necessary."

Walter's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shrugged, unimpressed. "Necessary, maybe. But in Hell, it's a matter of survival. Those little imps are just making noise in a world that won't listen."

The riot continued to escalate, with fiery projectiles, illusions, and general pandemonium swirling around. Amidst the chaos, a trio of larger demons emerged, their expressions twisted into malicious grins.

"Looks like the big guns are stepping in. This is where it gets interesting." you said while stepping back to not get caught in the crossfire. Values and morals aside, sometimes seeing stuff play out is widely more interesting than anything else. Fuck you sounded sadistic.

The trio of demons seemed to relish the opportunity to quash the imp uprising. With a wave of their hands, they conjured dark energy, sending shockwaves through the crowd of imps. You could see the smaller demons being tossed aside like ragdolls, their attempts at resistance quickly crushed.

You felt a surge of empathy for the imps, caught in a cycle of oppression and rebellion. However, Walter's detached demeanor left you conflicted. Was he merely observing the chaos, or did he revel in the anarchy that unfolded before him?

Leaning into you his dark haze felt almost suffocating. "Well, darling, what do you think? Will the imps triumph or become another forgotten footnote in Hell's sordid history?" 

The question lingered in the air, emphasizing the harsh reality of Hell's hierarchy. The imps' plight seemed both desperate and valiant, a stark reminder that even in Hell, some fought for a semblance of dignity and recognition. 

“Whatever, if this is just a game to you, I hope your luck runs out” you remark before heading out of the city center. Being around him made you miss the annoying voice of alastor. 

Walking away from him was the easiest thing that you could do. His attempt to engage you in conversation, using terms like "darling" with a sly smile, only added to your growing irritation. It felt like he was mocking not only the imps but also your own principles and values.

The crimson glow of dawn began to seep through the curtains of Alastor's luxurious suite of his radio booth, signaling the end of another night's radio broadcast. The room, adorned with vintage furnishings and an air of refined chaos, bore witness to the aftermath of Alastor's nocturnal endeavors.

reclined in an opulent armchair, a contented smirk playing on his lips. The room still echoed with the faint whispers of his charismatic voice, which had reached every corner of Hell during the broadcast. The radio equipment, adorned with dials and adorned in a distinct retro aesthetic, hummed softly, now temporarily dormant.

 Alastor found his thoughts occasionally drifting to the enigmatic (Y/n). a peculiar newcomer to Hell or at least to what he thinks. had managed to capture the attention of the radio demon in a way that he couldn't quite dismiss. The glimmers of defiance in (Y/n)'s gaze during their encounters had not gone unnoticed. Alastor, who revealed in the unexpected and the unconventional, found a peculiar satisfaction in the mystery that surrounded them. In Hell, where familiarity often bred contempt, the unknown was a rare and exhilarating novelty.

As the first rays of dawn bathed the room in a warm glow, Alastor's posture shifted. He rose from the chair, his movements graceful and deliberate. Despite the seemingly chaotic nature of his radio persona, there was an undeniable elegance to his every action.

Alastor pondered the significance of this newcomer's journey through the infernal landscape. Why could he feel such raw power? Though why is it that he is reminded of himself when thinking about them. 

Walking over to a nearby table, Alastor poured himself a cup of tea. The delicate porcelain clinked softly against the saucer as he sipped the hot beverage. The tranquility of the moment contrasted with the lively chaos he had orchestrated just hours ago.

Thinking back to last night, With a casual flick of his wrist, when he summoned ethereal tendrils that danced like shadows in the night. These spectral appendages slithered through the air, reaching out to the trembling souls and ensnaring them in a web of malevolent energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp under his influence, distorting the surroundings into a nightmarish landscape.

Alastor's mind, ever calculating, reflected on the success of the night's broadcast. The intertwining melodies of jazz and hellish commentary had woven a tapestry of entertainment, capturing the attention of listeners from the lowliest imps to the loftiest demons. The echoes of laughter and applause lingered in his mind like a symphony of souls.

As the jazz tunes from a nearby record player filled the air, Alastor reclined in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips. The prospect of weaving the reader into the ongoing narrative of Hell sparked a mischievous glint in his eyes. (Y/n), in their apparent defiance of the expected norms, had become a wild card in the devil's deck of amusement.

 Getting up to Leisurely strolling through the lavish suite, Alastor glanced at a vintage record player. He selected a vinyl record, the soothing crackle of the needle finding its groove as the melodic tunes of an old jazz number filled the room. The music, a stark departure from the energetic chaos of his radio show, created an ambiance of refined tranquility.

From below his window he sees these peculiar picture shows from down below.

"My, my, attempting to disturb the delicate balance of my little corner of Hell? How utterly quaint.” 

“Hey! I'm back! Damn, is it a lively scene out there,” you call out as you stride into your shared living space.

Alastor, reclining on a vintage armchair, smirks in response. "Ah, my dear (Y/n), chaos is the very essence of this delightful realm. One must learn to appreciate the symphony of suffering that plays around us."

"Yeah, well, it's just something that I'll make work in my hand,” you reply, taking a moment to glance around the eclectic decor of your hellish abode.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Alastor stands up abruptly. "I know you just got back, but we are going out!" His enthusiasm is palpable, and you can tell he has something interesting in mind.

“Wait, I think I had my share—” you try to speak out before being abruptly grabbed by the arm.

“Come on, my dear!” In a flash, you find yourself whisked out of the apartment, leaving behind the familiar surroundings for whatever adventure Alastor has in store.

"Alastor, where are we even going?" you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. His usual grin widened, revealing a hint of mischief.

"Patience, my dear (Y/n). I have something intriguing to show you," Alastor replied, his voice carrying an air of secrecy.

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "I thought it would be delightful to pay a visit to our esteemed TV demon. After all, shouldn't we take a look at all kinds of media?"

Before you could voice your reservations, Alastor pushed open the doors of the Vox Network headquarters, leading you into the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels stood guard, and Vox's voice echoed through the room.

"Ah, Alastor! A pleasure to have you in the building! , What a delightful surprise," a booming voice echoed from the center of the room. Vox, the flamboyant TV demon, materialized in a cloud of static. His slick, metallic appearance glowed in an array of colors, and his screen-like face displayed a perpetually changing expression. his screen displaying a charismatic smile.

Vox extended a hand towards Alastor. the radio demon simply walked past to which earned a small glitch seen at the corner of his screen. 

“Seems you've brought a pet?” The fact that no one knew who you were was starting to get on your nerves. Calling you a pet? Well that's something that will make you riot. 

In the face of Vox's condescending remark, you felt a spark of irritation flicker within you. Alastor's dismissal of the TV demon's extended hand had left a peculiar glitch on Vox's screen, a subtle indication that the flamboyant host wasn't accustomed to being ignored.

"No one's anyone's pet," you retorted, asserting yourself in the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels glanced in your direction, their mechanical eyes narrowing as if registering an unexpected anomaly.

Vox's screen shifted to an intrigued expression, the colors dancing in an erratic display. "Ah, a voice from the shadows! I must confess, I wasn't aware we had a new player in this delightful game."

Alastor, leaning against a holographic display, observed the unfolding interaction with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "She's no pet, Vox. Just someone with a taste for chaos and curiosity about your little empire."

Vox chuckled, the sound reverberating through the sleek surroundings. "Chaos and curiosity, my favorite combination! How intriguing! So, (Y/n), what brings you into our glamorous world today?"

You crossed your arms, a defiant gleam in your eyes. "I'm not here to be entertained or become anyone's spectacle if thats what youre thinking.”

Alastor stepped in “We just thought we'd see what all the fuss is about."

Vox's screen displayed a mix of amusement and curiosity. "A renegade spirit, I like it! But you're in the presence of yours truly and We don't do small things here. Let's skip the foreplay and get into it. How about a little deal? I'll make you an offer you can't refuse."

You eyed Vox skeptically, wary of the gleam in his screen. Alastor, seemingly unfazed, glanced at you with a sly grin. "Go on, (Y/n), entertain his offer. He has no power or specialty. We might find something amusing in his little game."

“Ok first fuck you alastor and no way in the seven rings would I join you I wouldnt join anyone” The prospect of dealing with Vox made your skin crawl, but the allure of navigating Hell's media empire intrigued you. 

Vox's screen flickered with a mix of surprise and subtle annoyance as you firmly rejected his proposition. The colors on his metallic visage swirled in a display of shifting hues, mirroring the complex emotions running through the TV demon's circuits.

"Well, well, aren't you a feisty one, Are you sure about not joining anyone? You seem like a loyal dog to that freak" Vox mused

Your resolve remains unshaken, and you meet Vox's screen with a defiant gaze. "I don't need your offers, Vox. I'll find my own way through Hell's chaos."

Vox's laughter echoed through the opulent reception area, a mix of genuine amusement and an underlying sense of challenge. "Very well, (Y/n). Should you change your mind or seek a taste of the limelight, you know where to find me.”

What a bitch… At this point you were at your limit so you walked out to the side of the room to not entertain this conversation. The fucking nerve of these people. Even Alastor was being a little bit of a shit at the moment. 

“There's a certain allure to the unknown, wouldn't you say?" Vox pondered aloud, his screen displaying a charismatic smile.

Alastor, still leaning against the holographic display, turned to you with a smirk. "Well done, my dear.”

Alastor's antlers grew as he stood before Vox, his crimson eyes piercing 

"Ah, Vox, my dear fellow," Alastor began, his voice carrying a melodic tone laced with a subtle threat. "I hope you enjoyed the rejection dance my little friend here performed. Now, let's get one thing clear – I don't dance to anyone's tune, especially not yours. You might be the new shiny toy right now but people always come back to the original"

Vox's screen glitched momentarily, revealing a flicker of irritation.

"What's the meaning of this, Alastor?" Vox demanded, his voice losing some of its usual charisma and taking on a sharper edge. "You come here and start bitching at me about not joining me?! We've already established that” 

“You underestimate the consequences of refusing me, Alastor," Vox hissed, his voice losing its previous charm entirely. "This will be my realm to control, and those who reject my advances often find themselves in a far less favorable position."

Alastor chuckled, the sound echoing in the extravagant reception area. "Consequences, Vox? I've faced worse in my time. Your attempts to control the narrative may work on the masses, but not on someone who knows the art of chaos."

As Alastor turned to leave, Vox seethed with frustration. The TV demon couldn't fathom being denied, and Alastor's rejection left a lingering tension in the air. Vox's screen displayed an animated storm of chaotic colors.

A surge of annoyance swept over you. Alastor's encouragement of Vox and his apparent amusement at the situation grated on the reader's nerves. The reader couldn't fathom why he enabled the TV demon's actions especially considering the TV demon's manipulative and self-serving nature. To make matters worse it really felt like he was making fun of you. 

“Fuck off Alastor”

"(Y/n), this is Hell, and power here is earned through deals and influence. If you want to make your mark, you have to start making deals," Alastor advised in a tone that was both casual and instructional. His words resonated with a hint of amusement, as if he relished the idea of the reader navigating the treacherous landscape of Hell.

“I'm not some social experiment, why are you still here?” however, was taken aback by Alastor's nonchalant attitude toward the situation. The idea of making deals in exchange for souls seemed like a slippery slope, and the reader wasn't sure if they were ready to embrace such a cutthroat approach

“Embrace it, and you'll see just how intoxicating the taste of power can be." he replied

If they were to survive and thrive in Hell, understanding the art of making deals was a necessary skill. With a determined nod, they acknowledged Alastor's guidance.

"Alright, Alastor. Teach me the ropes. I might as well learn how to play this game if I'm going to survive in Hell," the reader conceded, a resolute glint in their eyes.

“Im staying with you, but if you even think about being an ass while other people are around you're going to be counting your last minutes” 

“Doll, if you can barely stand up for yourself, I don't think I have anything to worry about,” he laughed out.

He's seriously pushing your buttons right now.

“As an overlord, you have dominion over a specific territory or domain within Hell. This grants you considerable authority and control over the demons and souls, you want that right? Power?” he asked.

All of a sudden you heard a loud bash of commotion coming from a group of demons that appeared to be fighting.

Pushing through the crowd, they discovered a group of demons surrounding none other than Walter.

One of the larger demons, a hulking figure with horns resembling twisted spires, look with disdain. "This fool thinks he can waltz into our territory and act like he owns the place."

Walter, bloodied but defiant, attempted to maintain his composure. "Now, now, gentlemen, there's no need for such hostility. Let's talk this out civilly."

The demons surrounding Walter scoffed at his attempts at diplomacy, clearly unimpressed. The reader couldn't help but feel a surge of annoyance at Walter's earlier arrogance.

"Perhaps, my dear (Y/n), we should let this play out. It's always entertaining to witness the ebb and flow of power dynamics in Hell," Alastor mused, his eyes glinting with a sinister delight.

"Come on! Do something about this!!, you can't just stand there and watch!" Walter's voice cracked with a mixture of pain and panic as he pleaded for help. 

"My, my, Walter, seems like you've landed yourself in quite a bind. Who would have thought our charismatic friend would face such a predicament?" you said out loud

“please! I'm not cut out for this kind of roughing up!" Walter's words were desperate, his eyes pleading for intervention. The demons surrounding him laughed, reveling in his vulnerability

“Oh please you were such a bigshot earlier, get yourself out of this mess”

ignoring the demons' taunts, you whispered out a proposal which the smoked and leaned in closer to Walter and whispered the terms of the deal. The specifics echoed in the demonic air, forming an unspoken pact that hung heavy in the atmosphere.

"Deal," Walter agreed, relief washing over him as the terms were settled. The demons, though momentarily confused, soon found themselves turned to dust. 

Alastor observed the scene with a raised brow, intrigued by the sudden turn of events. The reader's willingness to strike a deal for Walter's soul added a new layer of complexity

Looking back up to him and smiled, “is this what you wanted?”

As Alastor continued to observe the chaotic scene unfolding before him, a smirk played on his lips. The demons surrounding Walter, still reveling in the prospect of his impending downfall, were oblivious to the subtle yet profound shift in the power dynamics.

"Well, well, it seems you've decided to make a deal. How delightful!" Alastor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. The atmosphere shifted, charged with an unspoken agreement between you and Walter.  

“Now, now, gentlemen, let's not keep our eager audience waiting. After all, this is shaping up to be quite the dramatic performance,” Alastor commented looking at the rest of the demons that just fell dead, staring at the corpses with a dark amusement lacing his words. He leaned casually against a nearby demonic structure, his radio-like grin widening.

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[aerynwrites]

Scars

Halsin x afab!Reader

A/N: some friends and I were talking in discord and one of them gave me permission to use this wonderful idea! I hope y’all enjoy ❤️

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: major insecurity in reader regarding scars, talks of self hatred, self depreciation, all is comforted tho, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, partial nudity, fluff, kisses, love confessions.

The battles are done, the enemies defeated, and yet it feels like the work doesn’t quite end there.

This battle was harder than the rest, bending and breaking all of you more than expected. So much so that blood still oozes and bones still need mending despite the healing spells Shadowheart was able to bestow upon your group. Even her magic was depleted leaving her with the the rare wounds to show for it.

Return to camp has become a habitual affair, those that are able, help the companions wounded before everyone returns to their tents for the night.

You, however, slink off on your own from the get go, avoiding the healing hands in favor of your own mediocre care.

It’s better for you this way. Safer. At least mentally. The small river a short distance from camp has become your solace. Far enough away to seclude you but close enough that if danger were to arise, help would be close by.

You’ve come here after most battles, rinsing off in the clear water before tending to your own wounds as best you can, too ashamed to ask anyone for help - too scared to bare yourself before them.

Especially since a certain druid joined your team.

Before Halsin had come along you’d been able to slip away with no questions asked. Every now and then Shadowheart would tease you about how she could get the job done quicker but it would end there. Now…now it’s like you can feel Halsins stare each time you leave camp, his offers of help being brushed off with a flippant wave of your hand.

You enjoy his company. More than enjoy it really - so much so that a small crush has started to develop for the larger man. A part of you has longed to accept his offers of help, longed to open up to him in a way you have to no one else.

Yet, each time, the acceptance dies on your tongue and you tuck your tail and run. Just like you always have.

You sigh as you approach the waters edge, stripping down to nothing but your under things in order to sit on a rock submerged below the water enough that you can rinse away the muck of battle in order to assess the damage.

It’s the same process as always. Rinse off, tend to any wounds then dress and head back to camp. But tonight proves more difficult.

You have more injuries than normal, which means more stitching - a task proving difficult due to what you assume is a larger wound on your back. You’d taken a nasty blow to the shoulder towards the end of the skirmish and now it aches terribly and refuses to move the way you need in order to tend to yourself properly.

With a wince, you reach behind you with your good arm and try to feel for the wound, hissing and snatching your hand back when it brushes over the edge of what seems to be a nasty gash.

You’ll never be able to reach that on your own.

Muttered curses slip past your lips, as you turn to focus on the things you can fix instead. However, just as you move to tend to the shallow claw marks on your arm the all too close snap of a twig startles you.

Your head whirls to look behind you, and your eyes widen in mortification to see Halsin standing several yards away.

“Halsin! What are you doing-“ you cut yourself off as you reach for your shirt on the bank behind you, desperate to cover up before he can see anymore.

Before he can think you’re hideous.

The thought is fleeting, but drives your actions all the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Halsin finally speaks, holding out placating hands, as if dealing with a scared animal.

His words stall your movement just long enough for you to notice that the large elf isn’t looking at you. Instead his head is turned off to the side as if he doesn’t want to intrude on your privacy if it’s not wanted.

Your shirt hangs limply in your hands before you gather it to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

With his head still turned away, Halsin clears his throat. “I know you prefer to tend to your injuries yourself, but I saw the wound on your back when you all returned from camp. I only came to offer my help - and if you refuse I will turn now and leave you in peace.”

The air is silent as his words settle between you, and you open your mouth to give your typical refusal before stopping short.

You do need help. There’s no way you’ll be able to take care of the injury on your own. Not properly anyways. And infection is dangerous - even with healers around to help.

You let out a soft sigh, turning back to face the water, your shirt still clutched tightly to your front like some sort of lifeline.

“That’s - yes. I can’t…I can’t reach it on my own,” you admit softly, trying not to quake in shame as you hear his soft footfalls approach.

The thud of his boots in the grass and quiet splash of water is the only thing that lets you know how close he is, your eyes still trained on the river in front of you.

Soon you feel a presence at your back, and Halsins voice meets your ears once more.

“May I touch you?”

The question is simple, yet it ignites a bitterness you hadn’t realized was there. “You have to in order to treat me, don’t you?”

If Halsin reacts to your snappy reply, he doesn’t say anything, instead you feel him settle onto the rock behind you, water rippling between your bodies as a gentle hand rest on your shoulder

“It is ideal, yes, but I will not force my help upon you if you do not wish it.”

His breath is warm against your neck, and you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. Shame wells in you again, but this time at yourself. He’s just trying to help and you’re letting your own insecurities - your own self hatred spew at the wrong person.

“I’m sorry, yes - it’s fine. I’m not…used to this is all. I don’t like people seeing me like…like this,” your admission is a soft, broken thing, almost lost amongst the babbling water if it weren’t for Halsin’s close proximity.

He lets out a low hum just as you feel the unfamiliar warmth of healing magic along your back, seeing the golden glow from the corner of your eye.

“A good healer would never shame those needing his help,” he tells you, the hand on your shoulder giving you a reassuring squeeze. “My aid is available whenever you require.”

You shake your head, a scoff slipping past your lips. “That’s not…thank you.”

Your initial words die on your lips, the true reason for your hesitance unwilling to reveal itself so soon. And if Halsin notices your deflection he doesn’t say anything, instead he lets silence fill the air between you until finally that comforting warmth disappears from your skin, the glow dissipating.

“Is there anything else I can help with?”

The automatic refusal sits on your tounge once more but you stop yourself, instead moving to hold up your other arm, showing him the claw marks that have already started to scab.

“Of course,” he says and you can hear him shift behind you. “Would you be comfortable facing me?”

You nod, and for the first time you find yourself telling the truth. For the first time in as long as you can remember you feel some semblance of safety with someone seeing you like this.

Slowly you turn to face the druid, finally letting the shirt you were holding drop from your grip, tossing it back to shore. You still have your underwear on, and you’re sure the man before you had seen worse.

Once you’re settled, you find yourself fave to face with Halsin for the first time tonight, and the first thing you notice is his smile.

It’s a tiny thing, small and reassuring and kind. An emotion you’re not used to seeing in this state of undress.

He gently takes your arm in his hand and applies the same treatment as before. Magic emits from his palm, wrapping your arm in small tendrils of golden light as the healing warmth envelops you once more.

“Will there be scars?”

The question falls from your lips before you can stop it, and you watch as Halsin’s brow furrows.

“This one should leave minimal scarring, if any at all. The creatures claws did not dig deep. But the wound on your shoulder was…” he pauses. “Even magic cannot overpower nature at times. It will most likely leave a mark,” he smiles again, “but you do not seem a stranger to those.”

His words cut deep, hitting you where you know he doesn’t mean too. But your shame, your insecurity rears it’s ugly head again, and you yank your arm from his grip - the magic dispelling as his touch does.

“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” you hiss, moving to stand uncaring of your half healed wound, or the way you teeter on unsteady feet.

“Wait,” a strong hand reaches to capture your own before you can leave. “I meant no offense, truly.”

His words cause you to pause, and you reluctantly turn to look down at where he still sits in the water. His smile is gone, lips downturned and eyes pleading.

“Then what did you mean if not to make fun of my disfigurement - of the very things I hate most.”

Halsin stands to join you, eyes searching your own until he has his feet beneath him and then your hands clasped in his own.

“I did not think it was something you felt ashamed of or I would not have made the jest. I apologize for not treading more carefully but…” he pauses again, weighing his words. “Your scars…they are nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to laugh, can feel it bubbling up in your chest. A bitter, nasty little sound that wants to make itself known. But you choke it down, the weight of his words helping you to do so.

“But they’re…ugly. Hideous. I’ve heard it enough throughout my life that…it must be true.” Your words are broken, reflecting exactly how you feel inside. How you’ve felt for so long.

Quickly a hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb wiping away tears you hadn’t even realized started to fall.

Halsins mouth is set in a thin line, eyes serious as he guides you to look at him.

“Whoever whispered those lies into your ears deserves a fate worse than the Oak Father can give,” he tells you, eyes falling down to take you in entirely. “Nature may be beautiful, but it is far from perfect - and sometimes it is far from merciful.”

Slowly, he takes drops his hand from your cheek, instead taking your hand in his and guiding your arm upwards. He uses his other hand to begin tracing the scars that cascade across your skin, some small and some large - all with different stories.

His fingers are gentle, barley a whisper on your skin as they travel upwards towards your shoulder and eventually he turns you to face away from him again, his fingers continuing their journey down your back.

“Scars are a part of one’s life, just as nature intended. They tell the story of where life has taken you, of where you’ve been.”

His breath ghosts against your shoulder and a shiver runs through you as his lips ghost over the scar of the wound he just healed.

“Some may have more than others, but that just means their stories are easier to read,” he comes around to your front again, looking down at you with a reverence you’ve never seen before.

“Would you look upon my face and call me hideous for the scars I bear?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, eyes widening. “No! Of course not, you’re…I think you’re…beautiful.”

Halsin smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then why can you not show yourself the same kindness?”

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never…thought about it like that.” You say honestly, eyes casting downwards.

Halsin quickly redirects your attention, bringing up his arm and removing one of his bracers, showing yet another scar. It’s white and faded with time but you can tell it was from a terrible wound that was never treated properly.

“I received this one early in my youth. I thought myself a proper druid, ready to take on even the toughest foes. However, a displacer beast was quick to show me otherwise. I was left with a scar and a lesson learned, encouraging me to not only work hard to attune with nature and its magic but to step back and think before charging head first into a situation.”

His words are wise, and you find yourself studying the scar with curiosity rather than disgust as you have with your own.

The next while continues on like this, Halsin slowly showing you his scars and telling the stories behind them. Eventually you both end up sitting on the bank to dry as the stories continue. And eventually, he gets you to open up too - staring with small mundane scars and stories before eventually revealing the scars you hated most and what led to them. Except…as the night goes on, you find the hatred giving way to nostalgia. Some of them came from memories that make laughter bubble in your chest. Like the time an old childhood friend wanted to try to knock an apple from your head with an arrow but instead left you with a scar on your temple and a fear of inexperienced archers. Or the time you had slipped in the river trying to catch frogs with that same friend and gained a scar on your knee.

Another pleasant story had just finished and Halsin smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the corners in the way you’ve come to admire.

“See, your scars, no matter how much you may detest them, tell your story - each one a different page.” Slowly he takes your hand in his own, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “And I would be happy to know each and every one if you’ll let me.”

His words make butterflies erupt in your stomach and heat rush to your cheeks as you nod.

“It might take a while,” you gesture to yourself, “there’s…lots of pages.”

If it’s even possible, his grin widens. “All the better - it just means more time spent with you.”

You move before you can think, acting on what little bit of courage has gathered in your chest as you lean towards him and press a quick kiss to his lips. You move to retreat, just in case you have read the signs wrong. But a warm hand comes up to rest at the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he kisses you back.

His lips are warm and gentle against yours and you feel like you might melt into a puddle right here. But your elation is cut just short as Halsin pulls away, gazing at you happily.

“You are beautiful,” he says softly, “enough to rival nature itself. Please come to me if you ever need to be reminded of that.”

Suddenly bashful, you give him a small nod before leaning into him again, but this time just to rest your head on his shoulder as your arms slip around his middle. Halsin returns the embrace, strong arms slipping around you and cocooning you in a comforting warmth.

You still have a long way to go, but with Halsin at your side…the journey might be a little more bearable.

#halsin x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin

[orcelito]

ok, i cant resist the urge to make a post about it after all, especially since it's related to a post i made prior

one of my favorite moments in trimax is By Far this part in chapter 35

[ID: Two pages from Trigun. The first starts with Wolfwood thinking, "Now that I think 'bout it, it may be one of the major differences between our species." That deep rooted dear I felt on the ship…" He thinks of Vash crying blood and, swearing, wonders, "Is he the one who can save humankind? That monster?" Wolfwood is briefly shown in resolution before someone calls, "Hey, Wolfwood!" and he looks up with surprise.

Vash sits with a smile at the edge of a rooftop, backed by the Fifth Moon and its prominent crater. Vash asks with a smile, "Just coming back now? You're a bit of a night owl, huh?" Wolfwood looks taken aback and wary. End ID]

Right Here. Vash is just sitting there, smiling like normal, but he's got the backdrop of the damage he caused on the moon set Perfectly behind him. it's a glaring reminder to Wolfwood of who exactly he's dealing with here, and that TERRIFIES him.

& the fact that Wolfwood still remembers that moment of crying blood as a moment of true fear. because for all the cheer Vash shows in the average moment, Wolfwood just recently saw him nearly lose control Again (at the Dragon's Nest). the second time he witnessed it, & the third time he would know about.

Vash is a walking atomic bomb with multiple charges. even with how cheerful & kind he is, he's shown Multiple Times that he does not have full control. he is decidedly something different, something Hazardous to humans, and Wolfwood knows this very very painfully.

for all that Wolfwood loves Vash, he is also terrified of him. and at this point in the story, that terror is potent enough to nearly eclipse his affection for Vash.

leading to some of the next most iconic pages:

[ID: The next page starts with Wolfwood standing behind the sitting Vash, his expression hard and the moon bright behind him. Vash seems sad and has one eye open. A close-up focuses on Wolfwood looking down.

Wolfwood thinks, "So easy to pull the trigger. So easy to remove half the problem." Another close-up with bright lighting obscures his face but for one eye. Then Vash turns around curiously and asks, "What's up?" Wolfwood sits behind him and says "Nothin'. Come on. Let's go." Vash seems surprised as Wolfwood scolds, "Don't get yerself tangled up in every little skirmish ya see. It'll be pointless if ya get yerself killed before ya meet him." End ID]

the manga frames it like Vash doesn't know Wolfwood was pointing the gun at him, but I think he did know. he's freakishly perceptive over and over again throughout the story. he HAS to be in order to survive like he has. he'd hear the movement of the gun & sense Wolfwood behind him...

he'd know. i really think he knew.

but he doesn't do anything about it. there is zero fear in his face. he turns to look at Wolfwood curiously, a bit confused, but not afraid. he never once thought that Wolfwood would shoot him. there's full faith and trust there in that moment.

Wolfwood pretends that nothing happened, & Vash lets him. they both move on, not talking about it, because they never talk about Anything of substance like this (not until much, Much later).

overall, it's just such a great example of their relationship's development. Wolfwood's fear & Vash's trust that he won't act on it... it's just. Man.

(EDIT: people have made some good points about how Vash's expression when Wolfwood points the gun at him shows that he probably did know and YEAH that's a good point! & probably why I was so certain he knew lol, I just hadn't realized it myself)

#speculation nation #fanny reads trigun #fanny's trigun analysis #trigun #vashwood #trigun spoilers/ #granted a lot of this is personal interpretation. some ppl might assume vash had no clue & like. that'd be a fair assumption #i just think Vash is very very perceptive. and i like to think he knew & just didnt do anything about it #because he never once thought that Wolfwood would actually shoot him #sometimes a friendship can be two buds who sometimes point guns at one another #(read: wolfwood points a gun at vash and Makes vash point a gun at him) #& then they never talk about this Ever <3 very healthy communication between these two for sure #anywyas im still making my way thru the original manga rn in my reread. but here have this moment bc im obsessed with it #might have smth else to talk about too. the geo-plants thing is intriguing me. but i'll make that post later. #EDIT: image descriptions written by princess-of-purple-prose

[shaunamilfman]

Dating Vault Dweller Lucy MacLean

never written anything but yellowjackets before but her girlfailure energy and complete lack of skills has entranced me

insists on giving you a tour of her vault. you could see everything interesting just from standing and turning in a circle, but she just has to show you all the “best spots”. it's just corners with interesting cracks in them. 

takes you on little picnic dates because she read about them in her book club once. sitting around in the field eating canned tuna while people work around you but she's having a great fucking time. you've never seen her smile more. 

big-time yapper. can talk for hours about the most niche topics if you let her. by the time she's done you can name almost every major player in some small skirmish 300 years ago. she gets so excited when she notices you're paying attention to whatever she's talking about. The girl just lights up and talks so fast you've got to ask her to slow down

if you didn't like reading before you'd better learn to love it because you will be joining that bookclub. by the time you've gotten around to reading it Lucy's pretty much spoiled the whole thing by accident. she just wants someone to talk about the exciting bits with and gets ahead of herself. sheepishly avoids eye contact when you put the book down and sigh. 

she likes when you're good at things but lowkey resents when you're better at something than she is. you beat her out in riflery and she has such a strained smile when congratulating you on it. she hates not being good at something so much that she feels guilty for it. 

definitely said “Golly!” after your first kiss

loves to sit around on your bed and watch you get ready. it takes all of five seconds to get your outfit on but she insists it's one of the best parts of her day.

insists on showering together to “save water”. always gets a little handsy but still rushes you out on time because she feels bad at the idea of wasting water. 

Lucy wants to do anything and everything she can for you. she wants to impress you and show you how much she brings to the table, and the habit kind of just stays even after your relationship is well established. She takes a lot of pride in her skills and what better use for them than making life easier for her partner. 

So easily won over by praise. No matter how sad or upset she is, you can always cheer her up at least a little by telling her how smart or good at something she is. 

cannot be suave or subtle no matter how hard she tries. and she does, a lot. tries to hit you up with a one liner and tells the punch line first. tries to lean against the wall and stumbles face-first into it. makes you dinner and trips over the edge of a rug and drops it on your shoes. you just make her so nervous.

she's so blunt that it leads to the most awkward situations, but you almost prefer it to the havoc she brings when she purposely tries to be charming. 

cannot lie to save her life. she’ll definitely try if it means sparing your feelings but she's so obviously lying that it doesn’t matter much. all “wow… you did such a good job!” but she’s choking it out and cannot meet your eyes.

she's so attached to you. would follow you from room to room all day if she could get away with it. she needs such constant affection and gives so much in return that it's a little overwhelming at first.

definitely the type to lick her thumb and try to rub the dirt off your forehead with it. she's so embarrassing, honestly. fiddles with your clothes to make sure they're presentable. you're going to dinner with 20 other people all wearing the same outfit, but god forbid yours is a little wrinkly. 

you can always tell when she wants you to do something romantic for her because she'll leave out your nicest jumpsuit for you to wear as a hint. 

catches you watching her fix pipes and assumes you want to learn instead of just ogling her. tries to explain it and you're like “yeah? that's crazy…” till she finally gets the hint. always looks so proud when she realizes you find her attractive, even after you've been together for a while. 

lowers your guard with the most innocent-looking smile and then suddenly says “we should have sex” with all the subtlety of a train wreck. that awkward bluntness rearing its head again. can always trust Lucy to say the quiet part out loud. 

loves to flirt with you but she is so bad at it. doesn't recognize the fact that she's bad at it either. hits you up with the worst fucking line known to man and looks so quietly smug about it. 

#fallout x reader #lucy maclean x reader

[koiiiiijiii]

windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 2)

warnings : smut part with wooin but i tried to make it more sensual then sexy, prob fluffiest stuff i ever wrote, as usual it might be ooc, not proofed read on your own risk!!)🧣💞🦢

thank you all guys for 287 followers!!(i wrote when it was 260!!) i hope my works makes your day a lil bit better and set some mood. i really appreciate all likes, reposts and especially!! comments and replies, in love with @sugardollie-907 @hjunsjoy @cozyunderworld @dialoguestetatet and wildylisa but idk why i can’t tag((( and so so many other people who comment (but i swear this holy five lives rent free in my comment section and it such a blessing🙏🏻)

thank you to every-everyone who supporting me, my works, it’s so gratifying to come here and see all notifications about your feedbacks!! also want to say thanks to all wb authors who ever posted and posting!! another source of motivation and inspiration🫵🏻😌💋💯🎀

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

vinny - a friend’s sister. you were definetely dom's or jay's sister, and vinny was so annoyed by you in the first place. not because of your personality or you annoyed him directly, but you were that "genious" in your sport, and vinny unitentionally compared you to jay jo, who were gifted with talent from birth. he was angry or annoyed to the point of goosebumps, he didn't even understand exactly what he was feeling, but he understood that this was a very strong storm of emotions and he was fixated on you. honestly? when your brother watches your competitions or casually tells about your successes, Vinny records it in his memory and will congratulate you later(dom as an older brother will 100% hype you up, fight me. he would show his phone to hummingbird crew with tearing puppy eyes “look, my lil gremlin winning those competition of hers”🥹🥹)Vinny would rather die by biting his neck than admit his feelings to someone, so it happens accidentally, maybe your chat went further than congratulating each other on winning competitions or your calls to him to find out where your brother is hanging around today. but because you were tired after the competition, you fell asleep leaving the chat open and not responding to his messages, leaving him on read. not to say that Vinny was offended by you, he just snapped at you for 3 days in a row, refusing to respond to messages. you had to take the situation into your own hands and hold his hand after another training and talk. “ta hell you want?” he said, frowning down at you. “just to talk and clearly” - you explained the situation to him and told him why you didn't answer, but since Vinny didn't know how to apologize and he had certain trust issues, it turned into another skirmish. it was evening and it was unnoticeable how the clouds thickened and the rain began to fall, but it didn't seem to bother two of you much because you were standing and yelling at each other for a reason you both didn't understand. Vinny's patience had always been zero, but now it seemed as if he was on the verge of reaching another stage of rabies. while you were shouting at him that you didn't understand why he started this quarrel at all, he just exhaled irritably and unknowingly blurted out “FUCK! because i was worried about you!!” as the argument reached its peak, Vinny's frustration peaked, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and apprehension. yet, amidst the chaos of their exchange, a surge of emotion overcame him, compelling him to act on the impulse he'd long suppressed. with a sudden surge of courage, Vinny closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. eyes met, mirroring the intensity of emotions, as Vinny leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. the rain continued to fall, its gentle rhythm enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. Vinny’s body pressed to yours, rain-soaked and trembling, as the warmth of the spring evening mingled with the cool touch of the rain. in that moment, amidst the soft glow of the night lights and the soothing patter of raindrops, time seemed to stand still. the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the two bodies locked in a passionate embrace. as your lips parted, a sense of relief washed over, breaths mingling with the cool night air as you savored the sweetness of the moment. in the gentle caress of the rain and the warmth of each other's touch, you found solace, knowing that despite the storm raging around two of you, they were anchored in the calm of their love. as you kissed beneath the spring evening sky, a sense of peace washed over them, the tension of their argument melting away with each tender caress. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the gentle embrace of the rain and the comforting glow of city lights, they found solace in each other's arms, their love renewed and strengthened by the storm they weathered together.

wooin - fake relationship. he commited it in the first place. since his work wasn’t permanent and he was constantly on the move, hanging here and there, Wooin thought it would be nice to have something permanent in his life. he needed excuse to tell his family why he can’t visit them on weekends - his girlfriend doesn’t feel well. them asking him all this “start a family” questions? sorry, y/n isn’t ready yet. some unforeseen situations? oh, y/n can be his trusted person. something didn't go according to plan? he can rely on y/n, if it isn’t something too difficult or dangerous. as a substitute he will gift you something, or will took you somewhere, thanking you for being his backup. genuinely it wasn’t something like friends with benefits, no, you two clearly share a bond, but it was something on the edge, as everybody thought you were dating. and in fact all this acts, you being his backup, him giving you small gifts, taking you on dates, sharing a bed - it all feels more like a relationship. but you never had this conversation, after another hot sex you could fall asleep together, for sure, but in the morning one of you definitely woke up in an empty bed. of course, it also happened that you woke up together, but in the morning Wooin was simply unbearable, and more often it ended with too caustic jokes. and it was always on the edge, you weren't in a relationship, you weren't friends, you weren't strangers, you were all together at once. at some point, it started to get exhausting. you noticed it first, but Wooin started talking about it first... well not actually talk, but mutter in the crook of your neck… today’s sex was different, the encounter was filled with a blend of sensuality and intensity, both of you asserting your desires while maintaining a balance of power. you bite each other, when it feels like too much, but immediately kissing and licking bite place, each of you tried to get leading role while another didn’t let it happen. today, Wooin's approach was different - not sloppy, fast and erratically, but slower, more deliberate, his touch gentle yet his thrusts firm. you were suffocating in his arms, and it seemed to him that he was drowning in the smell of your hair, your moans, how you trembled slightly from his hands on your chest, hips and neck. Wooin burrowed his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and sniffing your scent. it was intoxicating, that feeling when you were next to him, when his hands slid over your body, your soft sobs, how the emotions on your pretty face changed depending on his pace. now, with his whole body pressed against you from behind, one hand holding your hip, and the other between your head and the pillow, his palm rested on your collarbones. while he was slowly sinking into you, and you were smiling and almost purring with pleasure, he caught himself thinking that he liked your smile. he likes to spend time with you, he likes to use an excuse in front of his parents and call you his girlfriend. his. Wooin liked the idea of you being his. he liked you. along with these thoughts, his pace increased, now he was digging his fingers into your thigh, and the other hand slid to your breast, squeezing it a little harder. you were both lost in your pleasure as you moaned louder and louder, he pressed his nose harder into your neck, whispering something that you couldn't make out. at one moment, he lifted his head, biting your earlobe, and pulling it slightly towards him, in a burst of emotion, he whispered "i like you"*

kwon - stranger to lovers/soulmetes - for the first time it seemed like someone corsed you. you moved to new flat in different district of Seul and now it was time to transport your stuff from old flat. everything started when you recieved message from a men who drove the car with your stuff, saying that he is stuck on a street because there are some stupid cycling competition and usual road is closed. amazing, you already were so stressed and here some cycling competition, but thankfully in the evening you finally recieved your stuff, mostly some boxes, small and big. when you were about to pick another heavy box you felt that it seemed strangely light. when you rise your eyes you saw a young man around your age. you thanked him for helping and he turned out to be almost your neighbor, one floor above and to the left of your neighbor's wall. next time you saw Kwon Hyeok in evelator…and you two were stuck there…for 3 hours…you were about to meet with your friends and, as you learned later, he was about to pick something to eat in nearest market. week later you met him in random cafe, where you decided to have a dinner alone, the owner of the cafe came up to you, saying that all the seats are occupied, but since you are alone, there was an empty place, behind the bar, just next to a guy your age (the old man grinned and has obviously already married you two in his head) so when you sat down carefully and apologized for the intrusion, you recognized that it was Kwon. you ordered your food and few drinks, and had a nice time together. and after a month of such unexpected encounters, you began to suspect 2 things - either fate brings you together, or he is a stalker. thankfully when you ran into each other again in the same cafe and drank a lot more this time, you admitted that you suspected him, and he, in turn, thought the same - that you were weird stalker girl who followed him around, and in that evening you laughed together from many things. when it was time to leave he understood that you were so drunk that you couldn’t even stand straight, so he took you by the elbow, hugged you with his free hand a little bit higher than your waist and led you home. along the way, of course, you mumbled something about how you like one handsome boy and he seemed like not paying attention to you and probably not even interested and why you're still alone…and then, under the soft glow of streetlights, amidst the hushed whispers of the night, it happened. in a moment that felt both inevitable and surreal, your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing the bond that had been silently growing between you. in that stolen moment, amid the chaos of the city, you found solace in each other's arms, knowing that fate had finally brought you together as more than just strangers in passing.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

* i’m sorry, i don’t really know how to finish this part with wooin, as it already feels too ooc, it was more self inserted, like i was inspired by my latest situationship, bc i was in fucking same situation(it didn’t end well) , and it’s still kinda my roman empire, so i leave space for your imagination… if u don’t mind of course…🥹

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣] #windbreaker #x reader #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #webtoon #windbreaker headcanon #headcanon #imagine #vinny hong windbreaker #vinny hong x reader #vinny hong #windebreaker hong yoo bin #hong yoo bin x reader #hong yoo bin #wooin sabbath #wooin x reader #wooin windbreaker #wooin #kwon hyuk x reader #hyeok kwon #kwon hyuk sabbath

[pianokantzart]

The Dog Scene from The Super Mario Brothers Movie

Thank you @scribeprotra  for permitting me to unleash this. Followup to this post: X

First of all, this scene is the first time we get to see Mario do actual plumbing, and it establishes that this business isn’t just a pipe dream (ha ha). Mario is actually a really skilled plumber. He sees the problem, knows what to do in an instant, and wraps it all up in less than a minute. So later, when all of Brooklyn is flooded, and Mario laughs that the hired workers “aren’t even looking in the right place”, we can believe he knows what he’s talking about.

Then, comes trouble: Francis The Dog, Mario and Luigi’s first real adversary... a kind of tutorial boss fight. Foreman Spike was antagonistic, but he was all talk. He would bully, threaten, and get aggressive, but he wasn’t going to throw the first punch. Francis, however, is out for blood.

We see an echo of what happened earlier when they confronted Spike. Mario stands between Luigi and danger, pushing him back, ready to defend him. However, unlike Spike, Francis doesn’t walk away, he goes for the throat, and it throws both brothers off kilter. 

Luigi, while anxious and fearful, proves he’s not a man of mindless panic. When Francis comes at him he’s yelling for Mario’s help, but he himself is climbing to higher ground while grabbing the nearest available object (a toilet brush) to defend himself. This pattern continues for the rest of the movie: though he isn’t much of a fighter, his survival instincts are quite good. 

Mario, on the other hand, immediately turns combative when Francis goes after Luigi. He draws the dog’s attention, and they skirmish for a bit before Mario finally seals Francis off inside the shower. Mario is not exactly a warrior yet, but he definitely has good fighting instincts. 

Of course, let’s not forget Luigi holding off the jet of water with the mirror foreshadowing him holding back Bowser’s flames with the manhole cover. That’s been talked about before... I want to talk about THIS shot:

Mario is holding out a wrench like a sword, Luigi is holding up the mirror like a shield. That is them in a nutshell, and why they work so well together: they are sword and shield, offense and defense, impulse and caution, working together to balance each other out.

When Francis leaps at them, they instinctually hold on to each other for dear life, but still manage to duck out of the way at just the right moment as the dog accidentally flings himself out the window behind them. 

Despite the dog being a violent threat, he is also a beloved pet to the homeowners. So what does Mario do? He throws himself out the window after Francis. 

He trusts Luigi won’t let him fall, and he doesn’t. There was no time for a plan to be discussed, they were simply on the same wavelength. 

IN CONCLUSION: The dog scene is what introduces the audience to the very different ways Mario and Luigi react to danger. It also shows us how tight their bond is, and why they work off each other so well, even beyond the emotional support they provide each other. The one downside is that the scene hints at a really cool fighting dynamic that we didn’t have time to properly explore in the film. The next time Mario and Luigi are fighting side by side they’re effortlessly mowing down enemies with the power star, and the sword-shield dynamic is lost. But I’m very excited to see the future of how they work as a team now that we’ve established the setting and set the two up to become heroes. 

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #mario #luigi #mario movie analysis #wake up new essay just dropped #super mario brothers #super mario bros #super mario brothers movie

[lostinwildflowers]

Summary: A young, naïve princess and a scrappy kid off the streets find themselves at odds, only to form a close connection that could cost the princess's future.

Word Count: 27.5K(...I am so sorry)

Warnings: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Pining(and a lot of it), Violence, Fighting, Illness(Not Pregnancy), Graphic Description of Death, Blood and Gore, Harsh Language/Swearing, Royalty AU, Happy Ending

A/N: Guys. I have finally finished this fic after it sitting in my drafts for OVER A YEAR! I hope the wait was worth it, please enjoy. Also this isn't beta-ed so if there are any mistakes I apologize😭 -Birch<3

Some Inspirations(full credit to the artists!!!):

Knight Levi (1)

Knight Levi (2)

Knight Levi (3)

It was close to the break of a cool, brisk dawn, and an 18-year-old boy with raven hair was being escorted by the king’s guard. The men of the guard hurriedly ushered him toward the castle gates, hoping to keep the situation quiet.

The boy had just been scooped up from the streets of the small town outside the castle where he had fought against a robbery in the town’s bank. Two large men had been knocked unconscious and tied up outside the front door while he returned the coins to the banker, who was crying uncontrollably, thanking him.

The boy’s name?

Levi Ackerman. He was skimpy, short, and looked like the butt of a joke. Yet from the tallest hill to the deepest valley across the kingdom, he was known as one of the best crime fighters in the nation.

Levi was known for his cunning, stoic nature, as well as his ability to fight with an unnatural quickness on his feet. Never once had he had a run-in with the law, he would send for the guard as soon as he started fighting the criminals. The poor guards men and women would show up to take the criminals away, only getting a quick glance at the small boy saving their town.

That’s why when the royal guard came to find him after the banking skirmish, Levi didn’t resist. He knew he wasn’t in trouble.

As they rode back toward the castle and away from the small village, Levi listened to the guard’s oblivious chatter. They wanted to recruit him to be a part of the royal guard… at the king's request? The thought surprised him, but he didn’t let that show. He knew that if he agreed to be a part of the king’s military force, he would be well taken care of and still be able to serve justice to those who needed it.

The sound of steel horseshoes clicking against the grey and black tiled rocks in the road was barely audible in comparison to the bustle of the town just outside of the castle. Levi was mounted on the back of one of the king's horses, his silver eyes narrow and cautious as he watched everyone hustle around the entourage.

Before he knew it, he was walking away from the life he was accustomed to, and as soon as he made it through the palace gates, his life changed forever. You could say it was almost difficult to keep up, but Levi knew how to quickly adapt.

He's shown the barracks and his sleeping quarters, where he was lucky enough to get a small cot in the corner away from many of the other soldiers. He caught sight of some of the soldiers and their trainees, donning stripes on their armor to show off their rank.

Levi doesn’t quite know what to make of everyone, they are all so happy, so clueless to the outside world, it almost disgusts him. But, he keeps his mouth shut and listens as he gets his tour and settles into his new life.

Bright and early the next morning, he goes to train in the sparring lot with his group of roommates. Several of them had tried to talk to him and learn about his past, but he wasn’t interested in making friends.

He watched several pairs spar without weapons before it was his turn to go. The thing about Levi that surprised all of his opponents was his strength. Despite his smaller size, he could easily surpass and beat his fellow trainees in combat. Between his different styles of movement and his speed, he was untouchable. 

Levi spent the first while at the castle doing what seemed like pointless activities to him. He knew how to unsheath a sword. He knew how to ride a horse. All of the basics were skills he inherently knew from his life on the streets fighting crime.

That's why no one was surprised when he advanced to the group of other guard trainees, who had been at the castle, learning the trade for over a year. It was strange at first, with everyone unsure of the quiet, small boy, but they eventually came to make small chat and he began to fit in.

Time seemed to slide by as fall weather started to set in. Leaves changed from dark, rich greens to playful yellows and tasteful oranges. It’s on one of these fall days, that Levi meets you for the first time. 

You were elegant, graceful, and naive at only 17, out for a walk in one of your many private courtyards. You were out strolling by yourself, as you often did. There were guards littered throughout the palace, so you weren’t too concerned about danger.

You loft around one of your favorite courtyards, the Josephina Garden Hall, blinking through the falling leaves and sighing in happiness at the breeze that floats through, carrying the last of summer’s warmth. In your lackadaisical wandering, you catch sight of a dark-haired boy around the corner.

You stay quiet and you blink in surprise when you realize he is training in your private yard. He's young, you think to yourself as you shift to stand next to some browning thistle bushes. Butterflies erupt in your belly as you take in his shirtless and lean muscular back that is facing you.

Even with his boyish age, Levi is covered in thick, strong muscle, but due to his intense practice routine, he's covered in dirt and some bruises. You could even see the pale gleam of faded scars on his chest and back, and that's when you decided you needed to know who this recruit was.

What kind of guard trainee is this? He looks young, but he seems so experienced, he couldn't have come from one of the lords, you think to yourself as you shakily emerge from your hiding spot.

You roll your shoulders back and down, lifting your chin as you walk as poised as you can. An image of grace, or so you thought. You were youthful and inexperienced, having only just gotten out of a lecture about politics and debate. Your days were spent going to classes, electives, and other menial lessons.

This was your time of day to relax, but the air suddenly changed from inquisitive to tense. Just as you started to approach the dark-haired boy, who was swinging his swords in a practiced sequence, he caught sight of you.

He flips his sword over in his hand, and pivoting on one foot, his blade just grazes your chin to lift it and look deep into your wide (colored) eyes. The slight sting of the blade causes you to jump back, your hands racing to your face to see if he drew blood.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you pull them back to see just a small droplet on the tip of your fingers, and your breathing is labored as you glare at the raven-haired boy.

Levi holds your stare as well as the stance with his blades and mutters, "Who are you and why are you watching me train?” It's silent for a moment as you process his words, the fading stinging on your chin slowing your brain down. Your mouth parts open, both in offense and shock.

He didn't know who you were.

You swallow thickly as you blink slowly once, trying to regain your composition as you reply, "It doesn't matter. You are training in a private courtyard meant for this kingdom's elite and personal guards."

His silver gaze bores into you for another minute before they roll in annoyance, his swords dropping away from you with an irritated sigh. He takes a small step backward, regaining your gaze without saying a word.

You watch him carefully, slightly nervous before dropping into a shallow curtsy. You look down and murmur, "Excuse me then." Levi takes a step to the side as you walk past him, skirts fluttering as you look straight ahead without a second thought.

Once you're out of earshot, Levi watches you leave and wander into the next garden, disappearing around the corner. Who the hell was that? He thinks to himself but brushes it off and continues with his training.

---

Later that same evening, the other recruits were laughing and chuckling after a hard day of training. Levi walked along behind them, listening to their conversations but never truly taking part in them. 

Everyone was headed back to the barracks, slowly wandering through the outskirts of the castle while trying to not be too loud. He kept one hand on the hilt of his blade, his gaze trailing away from the crowd of trainees in a practiced and calculated manner.

Colt, Porco, and Zeke were leading the group, some of the advanced trainees Levi had come to know. They were cracking jokes and talking about what was for dinner, but Levi didn't care for their conversation. He found more interest in listening to Reiner and Bertholdt who were in front of him.

The two young boys were discussing the upcoming rotations for the guard trainees. Each rotation group was stationed somewhere different around the castle and courtyards, and they rotated every couple of weeks so the guards could defend anywhere they were needed.

Reiner was more worried about who he was going to be stationed to watch, which made Levi roll his eyes, his silver gaze locking onto motion around the upcoming corner.

A split second later, he sees your figure surrounded by a flock of maids on your every side. Then, just a few paces behind them were your two female guards, Pieck and Annie.

His eyes narrow as the pieces click together in his head. He's interrupted when the other male guards he was walking with recognize you. “Good evening, milady,” Colt chirps out, a wide smile on his face as the group comes to a halt.

You had been talking to one of your maids about some kind of fabric for your next dress but were interrupted by the sight of the guards in front of you. You give the men at the front a sweet smile as the group of trainees all drop to one knee in a respectful bow.

All except for one.

The dark-haired boy, you think as he locks eyes with you. You nod silently to the maids, who skirt around all of the men and head toward your quarters. You continue to smile gently as they leave, and you address the trainees with a quiet and pleasant, "At ease soldiers."

Zeke offers you a wide grin and says, “Good evening, princess! Lovely weather we've had today, perhaps we can get some musicians to play in the back courtyard for you after dinner tonight.”

While Zeke is talking, you don't break eye contact with Levi, who is still standing at the back, not kneeling like the rest. You see Reiner elbow Levi in the knee, motioning to kneel in respect, but Levi continues to stare at you.

As Zeke finishes speaking, you shift your gaze to him slowly and agree, "Wonderful idea, Zeke. Please alert some butlers and other maids to gather everyone, especially my family and the lords. Reiner, Porco, join him, please?"

Zeke humbly agrees, as do the others, and you give them a dismissive nod, saying, "Thank you, gentlemen. Make sure to get my favorite violinist!" As the three blondes rise and disappear around the corner you just came from, you are left with Colt and Bertholdt kneeling, and the dark-haired boy still standing.

Levi's eyes are calculating and firm, and you nod to Colt and Bertholdt, relieving them from their bows of respect, heading past you and to the barracks. Colt turns around when he realizes Levi isn't following him but freezes at the showdown playing out in front of him.

You square up with Levi, taking a few steps toward him before he says, “You’re a princess? Makes sense why I caught you so off guard. You were loud, obviously in my line of sight, and an easy target who can’t even protect herself.”

A gasp sounds out as Colt gapes at the harshness of Levi's words, but the dark-haired boy doesn't say anything. And neither do you. You simply stare at where Levi’s head had been moments before as the boy walks past you, brushing past the other trainees. He disappears down the hallway where Colt and Bertholdt had been heading, straight for the barracks. 

Annie and Pieck are still standing behind you, and when you don't move for a second, Pieck rests her hand on your shoulder. "Princess Y/n? Are you alright?"

You don't say anything, but turn to face Annie instead, a snarl now etched onto your usually kind features. There is a fire burning in your (colored) eyes as you give her a cold look and state, "Teach me to fight."

---

The training session with Annie was just coming to an end, with your muscles sore and aching and your chest heaving to catch your long-gone breath. It was a long and brutal session, as Annie wasn't forgiving and it was warm as could be outside despite it being the middle of fall.

It didn't help that you were in your new fitted armor that Pieck helped you choose - it was heavy and there were many layers to keep you protected. There was a well-fitting breastplate that was engraved with your family’s name and emblem, cuffs for your forearms, and even protective plates for your calves, thighs, and biceps.

It was intricate and beautiful, with each piece perfectly tailored to your body. The one downside - it was heavy. With the rays of the autumnal sun beating down and carrying the extra weight you weren't used to, it was tough on your body.

Annie being a deadly threat didn't really help either, but at least her blade was only a wooden practice sword.

Her weapon came down fast and hard in a never-ending wave of attacks that were perfectly timed, accurate, and most of all, deadly.

With a fast nudge from her wooden blade, your sword easily flew to the ground, clattering against the hard-packed dirt. You were out of breath, with your hair all mussed up and grime smudged across your cheek from your hours of practice.

Silver eyes were watching from a distance in the trainee’s practice area, but you were too tired to notice anything. Instead, you were focused on Annie, who was holding her own sword up to your throat, much like Levi did two weeks ago.

"You've got a long way to go," is the only thing she says. You sigh deeply as she takes a step back and drops her sword, turning to walk away.

"I'm going to clean up, Pieck is here to watch you," Annie calls over her shoulder as she sheaths her practice blade back into her belt, and you give her a feint wave as you locate Pieck near the edge of the training field.

You watch as Annie’s blonde head disappears behind some shrubbery before slumping unceremoniously to the ground, a groan falling from your lips.

A few pants escape you as you close your eyes, a wave of exhaustion flooding over you. You try to calm the erratic beating of your heart and slow your breathing down as a light breeze begins to blow through. Leaves stir up on the ground, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

While your eyes are closed, everything somehow seems to get darker, and the breeze seems to stop just a moment later. Your (colored) eyes flutter open and up, leaving you face-to-face with the dark-haired boy.

You groan again and move to get up as Levi glimpses down at you and he states blankly, "You need practice." You shuffle to your feet shakily, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before opening them and answering him with, “Yes. I know. Thank you, soldier.” 

“It’s Levi,” he cuts you off firmly, "Levi Ackerman.”

You squint at him silently, leaning down to pick up your fallen sword without a word. A small puff of air leaves your mouth as your hand wraps around the hilt of the blade and you mutter, “Well, Levi Ackerman, I’m practicing, and you should be too.”

The dark-haired boy simply scoffs and says “I'm already better than you in all aspects of combat, you need the practice more than anything. I’m not even sure why you’re out here, shouldn’t you be learning how to sew or something?”

Your hand falters on the grip of your sword for a second before your gaze hardens and you snap, “As you said, I need to learn to protect myself, and I'm working toward that goal.”

You don't hesitate a moment after that, choosing to turn away from him and follow Annie to wherever she had disappeared. Levi is left standing behind you as you storm away, quiet as he takes in your retreating appearance.

Pieck had caught sight of your small spat with Levi, and as she followed you out of the practice field, she shot an icy glance toward the dark-haired recruit.

---

Your days were endlessly busy, and you were the most exhausted you had ever been in your entire life, with meetings with potential princes, lords, and suitors, going to your lessons to learn about foreign policy, hosting balls, developing legislature, and more. 

On top of that, you were still determined to train with Annie and Pieck when you had a moment free. Annie focused on teaching you sword techniques and improving your reaction time, while Pieck focused on sequences and how to use them while in a fight.

You were slowly improving with every day you practiced. You were becoming leaner, and building more muscle. You were less quick to tire, you didn’t lose your breath as much, and you were getting to the point where you could occasionally match Annie’s blows. 

Your mother and father weren’t so sure about you learning to fight, but your elder brothers had all learned, so they accepted that it was something you wanted to do. Your mother thought it was “unladylike”, but your father thought it was a good idea that you knew the basics of protecting yourself if you needed to.

"Slow!” Annie's yell comes at you as she spins and slashes her sword toward your ribcage, her aim constantly perfect. You manage to dodge her attack before you parry your blade against hers, using your body weight to push her back a step.

The two of you were sparring in one of the private courtyards this particular day, while Pieck stood guard not too far off.

The two of you circled each other before Pieck called out, “I think that's enough for today, you two, Annie, it's time for us to go on patrol. Colt and Porco will be on guard while we are gone.”

You were in an intense staring battle with Annie, who breaks her gaze away from yours to nod at Pieck. You groan and whine out, “But Pieck, I'm not tired yet, I can still practice for another hour!”

Quiet footsteps behind you make your head turn, and you suddenly see a blade coming down toward your face. A flash of fear runs through you, and you instantaneously react, bringing your sword up to catch the opposing blade.

You just barely catch it in time, and you realize your heart is pounding in your chest as the initial rush of adrenaline burns off. Shock is evident on your face as your lips part in a gasp and your eyes widen, but you soon frown when you are met with that new yet familiar silver gaze.

"Then let's fight for another hour," the low voice comes. 

Annie and Pieck had both drawn their swords, just to find the dark-haired boy named Levi was the assailant. Dressed in his practice armor, the silver metal covering his body reflected the same color as his eyes. 

One of his swords was drawn, the blade pushing down on your own, leaning toward your face. You could see the concentration in his brow, but you weren’t about to give up and lose. Stalemate it is then, you think to yourself as you brace against Levi.

At that moment, Colt and Porco walk into the yard, suited up in their new armor, their eyes wide when they catch sight of you and Levi. Pieck sighs and walks over to them, briefly giving them the rundown of events before she and Annie leave for their patrol. 

Colt and Porco, each respectively, take a position on either side of the yard, giving you and Levi plenty of room to fight. When your eyes meet Levi’s again, you find him with what could be considered a smirk resting on his lips.

"Let's fight, princess.”

At that, he pushes his blade off of you in a sudden burst of energy, spinning away quickly to avoid any counterattack from you. This gives you time to draw your sword in an effective manner to combat his every blow.

Levi draws his second sword, now dual-wielding in the style that no one seemed to be able to replicate. You grit your teeth and go after him swinging, allowing the metal of your blade to clash against his, your footsteps shuffling in the fine gravel and dirt. Your hair was falling out of the already messy ponytail it had been in, the (colored) locks falling into your eyes.

You felt unkempt, wild, and stronger than you ever had before. And this time when you were fighting, you had the physical strength to show it.

While you were on the muscle and ready to attack at every movement, Levi was at ease, effortlessly matching your blows; twisting and flipping just out of range of your blade.

Eventually, Levi starts to get the upper hand, and without you realizing it, he gets you backed up and pinned to the wall. In an instant, one of his blades flicks yours to the ground before being pointed at your throat, while his other one comes up to point at your belly.

He's panting now though, with sweat running down his forehead and neck, disappearing behind the silver chainmail covering his chest. The sun just barely catches his left eye as he gazes at you, and it glows like a hot ore on a fire.

It's silent between you two, your blade is on the ground so there is no way to defend yourself, and your hands are by your sides. At that moment, you are out of breath, beaten, with nothing to say for yourself.

Levi pauses for a moment before dropping his swords and resheaths them, one on his back and the other at his hip. He takes a deep breath through his nose and gives you a small, shallow bow and a quiet mumble of, “Better.”

He takes a few swift steps back and jogs out of the yard, giving Colt a simple nod before disappearing toward the barracks. You're left standing there, dazed, as you watch his armor glitter and dance in the disappearing rays of sunlight.

You hardly notice it, but a faint flush has covered your face, and as you touch your cheek, you realize it's warm.

---

The sun had sunk below the horizon and the coolness of the full autumn nights was bone-chilling. While you had gotten cleaned after some flower arranging and training exercises that afternoon, there was a part of you that wanted to get messy.

So, you decided to go to the forges and clean your practice gear. The plates had been coated with mud and grass from the numerous times you hit the ground while sparring Annie, and there was no doubt dust caked onto the cloth from the dirt Levi kicked up when he surprised you.

It was late in the evening, several hours after dinner, and one of the times of the day that you were allowed to be alone for just a few minutes. Not wanting to make a scene, you chose to go to one of the smaller forge rooms, one that you knew not many people used.

You took a few moments, setting up a few candles on the workbench and lighting them, stoking the fire in the hearth to warm up the small workshop. There were several tables set up in the room, embroidered cloths carrying the royal insignia, others holding stacks of bent swords and dented plates of armor.

On your workbench, someone had left out a few delicate trinkets and other lightweight tools, and you find yourself smiling at the meaning behind them. A small forged flower? Perhaps for a lover back home, you wonder to yourself as you gently move it to the far side of the table.

You can’t help but sigh in happiness at the quiet sounds of the workshop; the crackle of the small fire burning in the hearth of the forge, the distant sounds of drunk men happy with their work for the day, and even the call of a spotted owl hooting in the distance.

The ability to be alone for a few minutes was much appreciated after the clashing of swords all afternoon, and you quietly start to work on polishing your armor as a warm, orange glow begins to fill the room. The faint smell of wood smoke fills the air, accompanied by the dark and rich aroma of the oil used to clean your armor and blade.

Time seems to tick by slowly, and you don’t even realize there is moonlight shining through the window until the sound of footsteps approaching catches your attention. Your (colored) orbs are snatched away from the rhythmic movement of polishing your thigh plate at the noise and you cease motion as you look to see who it is.

As you turn to face the entrance to the forge, you are met with the shadowed face of Levi, who when he notices you, his eyes widen ever-so-slightly and he bows in recognition and murmurs, “Princess”.

You can feel your eyes narrow in immediate suspicion at the sudden respect he is showing you. He quietly walks past you, moving to sit at the table closest to the forge, the two of you facing each other, yet tables apart.

You notice he is carrying his own gear, and you soften the intensity of your expression and answer him with a short, "Good evening, Levi,” before returning to your thigh plate with the small rag.

It’s quiet for another moment, but the simple silence that had once surrounded you has grown thick and uneasy. You could feel yourself shifting on the bench you were sitting on, realizing you were in a much more casual outfit than you typically wore. It wasn't nearly as extravagant as your day-to-day dresses, but you still felt comfortable enough to be seen by your guards and maids. 

So with it being Levi sitting in the same forge as you, it made you uneasy. You watch him pull a stool out from the corner of your eye, the wooden legs scratching against the ashen ground near the forge’s mouth. What had been a harmonious sound from the forge becomes the sharp hiss of logs burning and the soft zings of metal being wiped clean and sharpened.

You feel the need to say something, anything, and so you mumble carefully, "You fought well today.” You dunk your rag in more oil, (colored) eyes cast down toward your hands. You can feel Levi’s heated gaze snap onto your frame, and the intensity of them is like daggers digging into your sides.

"I fight well every day,” he almost snarls. You feel your heart practically jump to your throat at the harshness of his tone, and you keep your eyes on cleaning a piece of mud off of a shoulder pauldron. Suddenly you feel foolish for saying something, and it's quiet for another moment before he pipes back up.

“But thank you," he murmurs, softer this time, "You are getting better, some of your combinations are pretty good.”

His words are simple, and straight to the point. They show no signs of being impressed or disappointed, it was like he was simply stating your fighting abilities like they were facts. Your cleaning motions completely stop as you process his words, and you can’t stop yourself from looking up to view his lithe figure. 

Levi is working on cleaning his dual blades when your gaze lands on him, and he doesn't look up when your eyes find him. He doesn’t even seem bothered that he gave you what could be taken as a compliment, especially with how he has acted toward you.

But this is the first time you truly get to lay eyes on the scrappy boy, taking in his limber build. He's not large. Everything about him seems to be small, regardless of the obvious muscling on his frame. 

You know he's strong despite his size, and he is lethally fast, which proves to be a deadly combination. The boy sitting across the room from you has something about him that sets him apart, and you just can’t put your finger on what it is.

As you go back to cleaning your armor, you try to piece together a possible backstory for him. You know he didn’t live in the town connected to the castle, no one here knew him. He was around your age, and he knew how to fight, but he wasn’t from a royal or respected family.

You look up from your gear, setting everything off to the side and you state out of nowhere, “Levi, I want you to train me.”

It's quiet again, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you wait anxiously. You then hear his blades hit the wooden table in a sudden clatter, drawing your gaze to the intricately designed swords. 

No one else had swords like him. Custom designed, but embellished with the royal insignia, they were specifically made for his fighting style. You had wondered about them, and why your parents would allow for a random boy to have custom swords if he were just to be joining the guard.

You pause for a moment, thinking about how you made a major mistake asking this of him, and you look up to meet his gaze. And now, he's looking at you.

The expression on his face is one you don't know how to digest. He always seemed to look mad, bored, or sad when you watched him from a distance, but now you had no idea how to get a read on him. If you were to say what he looked like, you thought that he looked excited. 

Levi stands up from his stool, the wood once again scraping against the ash-covered floor. His boots crunched on the thin layer of ash, but he didn’t seem to mind as he secured his blades on the table. 

He moves with a grace you never noticed and he walks around the edge of your table to lean his hands on it directly across from you. 

“No,” he says, his gaze still unreadable. You blink up at him, your fingers nervously weaving together in and out before you plead, “Teach me, there is no way I can get better if I don’t learn.”

You can feel his disbelief when he tuts and pushes off the table to stand up straight, looking down at you. His arms move to cross his chest and he responds again, “No, I’m not going to teach you.”

A wave of frustration washes over you and you stand up and frown before spitting out, “You have to!” Levi rolls his eyes and sighs, “I don’t have to do anything.”

You walk around the edge of the table to get closer to him and you point your finger at his chest and bark out, “You have to listen to me, I am your superior!” Levi smacks your finger away with his hand and is quiet for a moment.

His gaze shifts, and suddenly you can read his expression again. A challenge. His eyes become steely in the light of the forge, and you can see them flicker between your eyes, down your frame to your boots, and back up again.

You suddenly feel too warm standing there, and you uncomfortably shift side to side as you feel him silently judge you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Here I am in clothes not suitable outside of my quarters, this guy is judging me after beating me today, and I’m begging him to train me. Get it together! The words flood into your mind as you stand there, and you cross your arms over your chest to try to cover up in insecurity.

“What’s in it for me?” he asks coolly, his gaze boring into yours as he awaits a response. You blink in disbelief and stutter, “Uh, uhm, I don’t know. What do you want?”

Levi rolls his eyes and walks back over to his gear, sliding the swords back into their sheaths. He folds up his armor and puts it back into a leather bag that he brought it in. He seemed dismissive and you were racking your brain before an idea caught in your brain.

“Land!” you call out loudly, before covering your mouth. Levi freezes and turns to look at you with one of his brows lifted in question. You take a quick breath and continue, “Land, for your family, here around the castle. That way you can see them whenever you want.”

Levi continues to put his stuff away and replies blankly, “My family is dead. I am alone.” A pit builds in your stomach and you usher out, “I’m sorry, I had no idea.” Levi glances at you and shrugs, “I’ve worked alone since I was a child.”

You are quiet again and let him walk past you toward the mouth of the forge. Just as he’s about to leave you mutter, “Please, Levi. I want to learn.”

He pauses behind you at the door, your backs facing each other. It’s quiet, with just the sound of the fire splitting open another log. You can hear the fluttering of the owl’s wings outside the window, and you turn to face the door, afraid he left.

Instead, you are met with Levi’s gaze watching your dejected figure. You can see he is calculating in his head, thinking, planning, and ready to say something that will destroy your hopes.

“You have no idea what you’re signing up for, princess,” is what falls from his mouth. It’s quiet, so quiet you almost miss it. A flicker of hope blooms in your belly and excitement takes over as you realize the implications of his words.

You take a step toward him, your hands clenching by your sides as you whisper, “Try me.”

Something flashes across his face, another unreadable emotion. He stares into your eyes and replies, “9 o’clock tomorrow night outside the Josephina Garden Hall. Don’t be late.” 

Not a moment later, and he’s gone.

---

It’s just starting to get late, with the moon climbing higher and higher into the sky. You are nervously making your way to the Josephina Garden Hall on the south side of the castle, opposite the barracks. 

You could hardly focus in your classes all day after the interaction with Levi in the forge room the night before. He was going to train you!

The training at night part made you a little nervous though, as you had really only practiced during the day and under heavy supervision. It was a windy night too, so you wore an extra layer underneath your practice gear so that you would stay warm.

A chill runs up your spine as you hurriedly make it inside the grandeur gates of the Josephina Garden Hall, and you take a deep breath as you start scoping the area for Levi. 

You had informed Pieck and Annie of your new training program with Levi, and both of them were hesitant but supportive. They were both standing at the opposite sides of the gates when you entered, and you quickly waved at them in recognition.

Just as they start to wave back at you, there is a sharp and quick blow to your back that knocks you to the ground. Air rushes out of your lungs and your forehead knocks into the grey, rocky tile with a loud crack!

Ow, ow, ow! The pain sets in quickly, and you can tell you’ve cut your forehead, you’ve likely got gravel or dirt in your palms, and there is going to be a bruise in the middle of your back in the morning.

“Lesson 1 - always keep your defenses up,” the low voice comes from above you. You are trying to decipher the words when panic begins to set in. You couldn’t catch your breath.

You don’t think you’ve ever experienced so much breathlessness, and you roll over onto your back, gasping for air. In doing so, the voice, which belonged to Levi, rings out again, “Lesson 2 - don’t give yourself an opening for the enemy to disarm you.”

In a quick motion, his boot flicks your practice sword right out of its sheath on your hip. The wooden blade flips perfectly into his hand, and in an instant, the blade is pointing at your throat.

Blinking rapidly while trying to regain your breath, you take in Levi’s appearance. He was wearing a dark cloak, and his face was shadowed in the light of the moon. He looked… eerie. And for the first time since you had met Levi, you felt scared of him.

“As I said, princess, you’ve got no idea what you’re in for”, he spits out, dropping your sword next to your head. You shuffle into a sitting position, chest still heaving. Your mind was an absolute whirlwind due to the lack of oxygen and the speed and accuracy with which he evaluated your fighting knowledge.

You frown and grab your wooden practice blade, putting it back into your sheath before scrambling to your feet to face him. You pant for a moment and then say, “Then teach me how to be better.”

Levi turns to face you, the moonlight casting him in a silver glow. He cocks his head to the side slightly before he replies, “Your reaction time is slow, you move loudly, and you are uncoordinated.”

You stand still for a moment, taking in his words. You shrug and ask, “So how do I fix all that?” Levi squares up with you and says, “Well with someone of your skill level, you can’t work on it all at once. You need to learn the pieces individually and then start putting them together.”

He motions to a tree where you can just make out the figure of a spotted owl, the one you had seen the night before! Levi starts, “An owl doesn’t start out as a silent flier. It first must learn how to flap its wings to get in the air before it worries about how quiet it is.”

You nod in understanding as the owl turns its head, flaps its wings a few times, and then glides off into the woods outside of the courtyard. A small shift on your heel and you face Levi again and call out, “Let’s go again!”

---

That first training session was the start of a brutal and grueling process to get you in fighting shape. Levi was a good teacher, surprisingly, but he was relentless. For every time you messed up, you had to get it right three times in a row.

The weeks started to slide by, and you were getting stronger, faster, and more deadly. Winter has arrived in its full glory - frigid winds, iced-over paths, and inches of snow every morning. The pines in the forest had started to get weighed down by all the icicles hanging on, and the horses were blanketed every night to keep them warm.

It was hard, practicing in the cold. The dry, cold air made it hard to breathe when you were working to the point of exhaustion, and when the sun shone down just right, you were positive you were going to go blind.

That didn’t deter Levi, though. You had managed to get better with a blade, but Levi insisted you needed to learn how to fight hand-to-hand since you “were so good at losing your sword”.

So that led you to your current predicament - being across from Levi trying to dodge his punches. They were fast, one after the next, after the next. Perfectly timed with an accuracy you didn’t know someone could obtain.

You jump out of the way as fast as you can, but a blow to the rib catches you off-guard and has you keeled over, your breath puffing in the frigid air. The pain is sharp, but you’ve started to learn how to manage it better, so you stand back up and form your fists into balls.

You attempt to throw a weak punch toward Levi’s abdomen, but he catches your hand with ease. He’s strong enough that he pulls your hand up to eye level, looking at the form of your fist.

“Okay, first off, this isn’t how you should make a fist when throwing a punch,” Levi says to you, pointing to the way you had your right thumb in the middle of your fist. He pulls your hand apart and makes it flat before reforming it into a fist, wrapping your thumb around the outside of your middle and pointer fingers.

You feel a wave of heat wash over your face as you realize he’s close to you, touching your hand. You try to pay attention to what he’s telling you, but it’s like you are just now realizing the ashen color of his eyes is flecked with the faintest hint of light blue.

“If you had actually hit me with the fist you had, you would have broken your thumb in an instant,” he explains, dropping your hand and showing you the fist you had made but with his hand instead. You don’t expect to almost miss the warmth of his touch when he moves away, but you shake the thought away as soon as it comes.

You step off to the side, letting out a small breath that billows around your head before throwing a punch in the air with your fist in the correct position. You turn to gauge Levi’s opinion of your punch, and you see what resembles a small, half-smile on his face.

Levi sighs and shakes his head, “Not quite. You’re twisting your arm as you deliver the punch. You want your arm and shoulder to follow directly behind wherever your fist is landing. If you are moving to break someone’s nose, you want it all to be in a straight line.”

He demonstrates a quick punch in front of you, and you can see the line he’s talking about from his fist, through his arm to his shoulder. You take a deep breath, trying to focus as you once again square up with Levi. You hone in on his nose, and in a flash, your fist flies out in front of you.

It surprises both of you when your fist makes contact with his jaw, and there is a clack as Levi’s teeth clamp down together in pain. Your (colored) eyes are wide as Levi takes a step back, one of his hands coming up to cup his cheek.

Your fist is still hanging in the air from where you just punched him in the face and panic sets in as you realize you just punched him. “Oh-oh my gosh, Levi, I’m so sorry!” the words come rushing out of your mouth, and you take a step forward with your hands covering your face.

There is a slight grimace on Levi’s as he works his jaw up and down to dissipate any pain. He lets out a quiet snort and utters, “That’s more like it, even if your aim was a little off.”

Worry is etched across your features as you take in the growing red mark on Levi’s cheek. “Levi, I am so sorry, please let me take care of that,” you plead as you move around the side of him to get a better look at it in the light. Levi just brushes you off, waving his hand dismissively, “It’s alright, I’ve had much worse.”

You sigh and mumble, “I believe that but that doesn’t mean you need to suffer now. Please, Levi, let me at least get some ice for you so it doesn’t bruise as badly.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye as he unwraps his hands, quiet and calculating. A moment passes but then he gives you a small nod, leaning down to pick up the extra wraps he brought, and motions for you to lead the way.

It’s a quiet walk back to the barracks, with only the snow crunching underfoot. You keep an eye on your surroundings, noting the guards just coming back from patrol in the forest, and the next rotation of trainees leaving to watch the castle walls.

Before you know it, the two of you are sliding into the small medicine room at the entrance to the barracks, and you grab a soft cloth and a stool. You have Levi sit on the stool while you run back outside, scooping up some of the fresher, cleaner-looking snow from outside the building.

Ducking back inside, you press the snow down into a ball inside the cloth, wrapping it until it is softly padded. You give Levi a small smile as you offer the rag to him, and he quietly grunts in thanks, bringing the cooled wrap up to his face and laying it on his cheek.

You rock back and forth on your heels a few times before asking, “So, uh, what are we going to practice next?” Levi looks up at you through his dark lashes, his eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. He’s quiet, which is something you’ve come to notice about him.

Levi never seems to have a lot to say, and only really talks when spoken to. Your thoughts are interrupted when he mutters, “You still need to work on your hand-to-hand combat skills, your aim is off.”

He shuffles the ice on his face a little bit, a soft hiss sliding through his gritted teeth. Your brows furrow and you reach out, moving to pull the ice from his face to see what his cheek looks like.

While you’re busy looking at the slight purple and pink marks blooming on his cheek, Levi is looking at you. He hasn’t spent much time with you in such close proximity, as he typically kept you at arm’s length.

But up close… you were pretty. He should expect that- you are a princess after all. But there’s a certain natural aura that he never noticed before, a sort of kindness written into your features. Maybe it was the way your (colored) orbs flickered from one dark spot on his jaw back to his eyes to see if he was okay.

Maybe it was the gentleness in your touch as you pulled his hand down from his face so you could look at it. It could have been the tenderness and honest sorrow in your voice when you apologized for hurting him.

Your hair, whilst messy from fighting, somehow suited you despite its frazzled appearance. The curve of your mouth when your lips were parted while thinking matched the ferocity you had when mad and the joy in your heart when you laughed.

Levi felt a wave of emotion run through him while you muttered to yourself how you needed to get better and train harder. It was intense, a feeling that shook him right to his core.

Was it… longing?

“When I was living on the street, alone,” he whispered, his voice so low and quiet you thought you were hearing things. You dialed in on Levi and the way his eyes were slightly glazed over as if he was in another world.

He pauses for a moment, swallows thickly, and then continues, “When I lived on the streets, there was this little girl I helped out. She was probably 7, maybe 8 years old. Didn’t have any family, no place to live. But I helped her.”

You are quiet as you listen to him, not wanting to upset him, you nod along. He glances up at you and starts again, “I would get her food, clean water, maybe even a place to sleep at night. In turn, she would find me medicine and bandages.”

Levi looks back down at the ground and his eyes flutter close as he mutters, “I was a sick kid, but she helped me when I needed her. I wonder where she ended up some days, and if she’s still as kind as she was to me.”

You shift your weight slowly, crossing your arms over your chest, and mumble back, “I can imagine she’s helping people, a good heart is a good heart. No amount of wounds and scarring will stop someone’s true nature.”

Suddenly, as if a flip switches in his mind, Levi’s eyes snap open and a hardened look covers his face. He stands up, slamming the snow-filled cloth down on the table and he practically snarls, “You would have no idea, all you’re used to is a protected life within these walls. You’ve never experienced what it’s like to live every day not knowing whether or not you’re going hungry.”

He lunges towards the door, pauses for a second, and spits over his shoulder, “Not everyone is as privileged as you, princess.” The words are as cold as ice, and you feel like your head has just been plunged into a bucket of water.

Hurt washes over you as you watch him disappear deep into the barracks, and you slam the door shut as you collapse onto the stool where he was just sitting. A sob tears itself from your throat before you can stop it, and you wonder why you’re crying.

Is it because his words are true? Is it because he was vulnerable with you? Or was it because you were starting to consider him a friend, and he only saw you as a pawn in the overall game of royal hierarchy?

---

A few days have tensely come and gone, and you and Levi haven’t spoken to each other since his outburst. You had buried yourself deep into studying, you figured that way you could stay out of his way and better yourself while doing so.

You hadn’t bothered practicing while being nose-deep in your books, and Annie and Pieck had started to notice. They had seen the dejected look on your face when you made it back to your room that night and how you shut the door without another word, locking them out.

They didn’t bother asking what was wrong when they saw Levi practicing with the other trainees and not with you. So, instead, they guided you to and from lectures, meetings, and other royal duties without hesitation.

There was one day where the sun seemed to break through the sky a little clearer and Pieck decided you needed to get some fresh air. She was waiting outside of your room, knocking gently before she called, “Princess Y/n, come out! You need some fresh air and out of those books.”

You groan at the distant call of Pieck’s voice, but deep down you knew she was right. You set a small bookmark between the pages of the current novel you were reading and begrudgingly call back, “Give me a moment to change into something more suitable for outside!”

Pieck smiles as she hears you fumble around for a few minutes before she hears your door click unlocked and you appear beside her. Dressed in clothes more appropriate for the winter weather outside, there is a disgruntled look on your face that says you aren’t happy with her interrupting you.

She rolls her eyes and says, “Come on, you know this will do you some good. Annie is already down at the stables getting our horses ready. It’s a nice day out and we thought you might like to go for a ride.”

The strained look on your face shifts to one of easeful thanks as you and Pieck make your way down to the stables. From a distance, you could see Annie’s blonde hair peeking out from underneath her cape, and beside her were three of your favorite horses.

The first was Ramon, a deep cherry bay with a small white star on his forehead. He was an absolute sweetheart and enjoyed going out on the trails. The second was your favorite mare, named Vairon, who was a small white and black spotted Leopard Appaloosa. She was a little on the fiery side, but you really enjoyed her company.

The third was an old, kind stallion named Enfés. He was a dark, seal bay that could almost look black in the middle of winter. While his name literally meant “hell”, the blaze of white hairs on his face showed his older age and the kindness in his eye.

You give each of the horses a quick rub between their eyes before you look to your two guards and ask, “Who wants who?” Annie was already holding Enfés since she tacked him up last and she replies, “I can ride Enfés since I already have him.”

You nod and look to Pieck and she shrugs with a smile saying, “Pick whoever you want!” You smile back with a giggle and mumble, “Alright, I’ll ride Vairon, I haven’t ridden her in a while.” You move to grab the mare, carefully guiding her out of the tacking area and out into the snowy, grass field just outside.

The three of you mount your horses and set off towards the woods. There were hundreds of miles of trails around the castle that you enjoyed riding through. In the summer, you could gallop your horses down the paths and out onto the open moors without hesitation.

But now, in the middle of winter, you were limited in how fast you could travel. While it was a warmer day and the snow was melting, you still had to be cautious of the slick ice underneath the snow that could make your horse slip.

You take a deep breath through your nose, the cool air burning your airways with a slight sting that is refreshing. You let the air slide back out through your lips, the warmth from your breath instantaneously freezing. It momentarily blocks your vision, and when it clears, your stomach drops at the sight in front of you.

Bandits.

There were several hooded figures, too many for you to get an accurate count in the split second you realized they were in front of you. Pieck and Annie had caught sight of them too, motioning to quickly move to the side of the path. There were only three of you, and at least a dozen invaders.

You can feel a wave of nervousness wash over you as you try to draw your sword from your sheath. You glance back and forth between the figures closing in on you and the hilt of your sword, which was caught on your cloak.

Crap, crap, crap! Is all that is racing through your mind as you struggle to get a hold of your only weapon. A cry rips through the air as Annie moves to fend off the first round of attackers. In a desperate motion, you let go of your reins to grip the hilt of your sword with both hands.

With another strong tug, your sword comes loose, and just in time for an arrow to whiz through the air near you. Another pang of fear runs through you, and in a panic, you jump off of Vairon, the mare instantly turning and bolting as the sounds of battle rapidly approach.

You try to steady yourself and in your mind, thinking through your training with both Levi and Annie. Just as you get a grip on your surroundings, a dark figure appears in the corner of your vision with a blade directed at your head. You duck on instinct, sticking your foot out in a way you had seen Levi trip someone many times.

The bandit trips over your extended leg, falling to their knees as you advance behind them, kicking them in the back with your other leg. This seems to knock the air out of them, leaving the bandit out of commission for a moment while you glance to see how Annie and Pieck are doing.

“Pieck?” you call nervously when you don’t see her black locks of hair anywhere. “Pieck?!” you yell more loudly when you don’t get a response. In your moment of distraction, you don’t notice another bandit sneaking up on you, and your attention draws back to the invader you had already knocked to the ground.

Just as you move to attempt to knock the invader out, the second bandit attacks. You’re too slow when you finally realize they are there, and shock rips through your nervous system as a searing hot pain takes over your left arm. You cry out, your voice shredding at the coarseness of your yell, and it’s loud enough to catch Annie’s attention.

“Princess Y/n!” she shouts towards you, parrying blow after blow with three attackers on her at once. You don’t get a chance to respond when you hear a voice exclaim, “A princess? She’ll be worth a lot if we can capture her!”

“It’s a shame that won’t be happening today,” a low voice barks from someplace behind you. The second invader launches at you, holding the blade that had cut you up to your throat. A gasp of pain leaves your lips and the guy who had a hold of you grabs you by the shoulder and yells, “Quiet, princess! Or I will have your head.”

He turns to face the unidentified voice you had heard, and you shuffle along to avoid any more injury. You hear the voice again, and through your pain and blurry vision, you can start making out a figure.

This time you know who the baritone belongs to as it rings out, “I can’t allow that either.” Before you can comprehend it, Levi is off his horse and lunges toward the bandit. You see a slight flick of his sword, and then you feel the pressure of the blade on your neck disappear.

With a shaky glimpse toward the ground, you can see the bandit’s severed hand still holding the sword. A scream splits the air behind you as the harsh pain sets in for the bandit, who steps away from you and tries to run. Levi is faster though, and he spins around, slashing his dual blades again.

You close your eyes as you hear the bandit’s body hit the cold, hard dirt beneath him. Another wave of agony washes over you as you feel warmth start to seep down your arm, and a choked sob breaks through your lips.

Not a moment later, you can feel a hand placed on your non-injured arm, and through tears you didn’t know had, you can make out the shape of Levi’s face. You can see concern on his features as he asks, “Are you alright?”

You are shaking, your whole body quivering as you try to contain your emotions through the pain. You try to nod your head but another cry leaves you with a fresh set of tears streaming down your face.

“H- how did you find us?” you manage to stutter out as Levi drops his hand from your shoulder. He re-draws his secondary blade and replies, “I saw your horse, and then Pieck appeared a minute later and brought our patrol.”

Another screech rings through the air and he sharply looks away from you and calls out, “Wait here, get down and hide somewhere!” Then, he’s gone, heading to where the cry came from. You could see several of the bandits were fleeing, leaving their horses and weapons as they ran for their lives.

Levi and the rest of his patrol were finishing off the few that remained, with Annie and Pieck joining them. You were about to collapse to the ground when you caught sight of something glinting through the trees. After a moment of realization, you recognize it as the royal insignia on a soldier’s breastplate.

You stumble forward as you call out to the fallen soldier, “Hey! Are you okay?” You don’t get a response as you trip through the brush, eyes blurry with tears from the pain coursing through your body.

In an instant, your body seems to come alive as you recognize the soldier. Rico Barht, one of your father’s guards. Rico was gushing blood from his thigh, where a nasty arrowhead had dug itself into the flesh. His upper body was drenched in blood from slash wounds on his chest and arms, oozing onto the soil beneath the two of you.

“Oh my gosh, Rico!” you blurt out in recognition as you lunge forward, your hands coming up to cup his face. He was just barely breathing and his hazel-colored eyes were half-lidded, unfocused.

A sob escapes you and you exclaim again, “Rico, hold on,” you look around for a second and then yell, “I need help over here!” You turn to face Rico again, slightly shaking him as you try to get him to focus on you, “Rico, Rico, hey, it’s me, (Y/n). We’re going to get you all fixed up, okay?”

A weak garble comes from his lips and that’s when you see it - a clean slice through across his throat. You immediately move to put pressure on it, but your hands keep slipping from the blood that is rushing out of his jugular.

“No. No, Rico come on, no no no no,” you rush out as you see his eyes fix and dilate. The blood continues to flow from his neck, and then you feel him take a breath. Then, all is still.

You can hear the fading cries of the bandits, and the forest rustling before it’s silent again. Sobs wrack your body, ripping your throat apart from the inside out. You let the tears fall as you clutch tightly onto the fallen soldier, praying that his soul leaves this cruel and unkind world behind.

You are so distraught you don’t hear your name being called from where Levi had left you. “Princess Y/n?” the call comes, and then again, this time with more intensity, “Y/n?! Y/n, where are you?!” You can hear the panic growing in the voice, but there is no air left in your lungs to reply as another whimper leaves your lips.

The person calling for you hears your cry, rushing down the dirt path that you had taken to find Rico. “Y/n, there you a-”, the voice starts but then abruptly stops. You turn to face the oncomer, who through your fuzzy vision determines is Levi.

He turns back towards the group and orders, “I need medical supplies over here, now!” Levi places his hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you out of the way so he can help, but you don’t budge, “He’s already gone.”

You can’t say anymore, and you bring your hands up to try to wipe the tears away from your eyes. Instead, you end up smearing Rico’s blood all over your cheeks. You don’t seem to notice, but Levi does.

His silver gaze widens as he sees the blood coating your hands and he rushes, “You’re injured, we need to get you medical equipment now.” He turns over his shoulder and shouts again, “Where the hell is that med kit?!” When his eyes meet yours, you simply shake your head.

“It’s not mine,” you whisper, sniffling, “I tried to- I tried to save Rico. But I couldn’t…” your voice trails off as a fresh wave of tears washes over you. Levi doesn’t say anything for a moment, a look of sorrow and realization covering his bloodied features.

You hadn’t ever seen someone die before.

It wasn’t something Levi thought of often. Living on the streets, defending innocent lives, death was so common he didn’t think twice about it. But you? A princess who barely could fight, holding a soldier as he died? He couldn’t imagine what it was like.

The two of you are interrupted as Pieck appears behind Levi and states, “We don’t have any more med kits, the soldiers in critical condition have already been sent back to the palace.” Her gaze flits from Levi to you, to the body of Rico behind you.

She opens her mouth to call for help, but she catches the glint in Levi’s eyes, and she understands. Pieck swallows thickly and then says, “I’ll get some of the other guards to take care of this. You two should get back in case any of the bandits are lurking around.”

Levi nods in thanks before turning toward you and murmuring, “Let’s get you back to the castle.” You don’t say anything, finally quiet after exhausting yourself of tears. Levi offers his hand to you, the digits covered in blood and grime.

You don’t think twice, placing your own hand delicately in his, gripping on tight as you feel Rico’s blood press into Levi’s palm. He pulls you to your feet, steadying you before guiding you out of the brush and to where Annie had gathered your horses.

She was in good condition compared to you, only mildly dirty, and didn’t look injured. Her blue gaze meets Levi’s silver one, and they both give each other a nod of understanding. Without any words, Levi mounts his horse while Annie helps you onto Vairon, the mare slightly antsy from all the commotion.

Annie passes your reins to Levi, who says to you, “Just hold on, alright?” You sit deeper into your saddle, grabbing onto the horn before nodding to him.

The two of you set off for the castle, a harsh silence settling over the ride home. You couldn’t help replaying Rico’s death over and over again in your mind. The feeling of the blood spurting from his neck. The look in his eyes as he died. The way his chest stopped rising and falling and laid eternally still.

You don’t even realize that you’ve made it back to the palace until you see Levi standing next to your left stirrup, offering you a hand to get down. Time and space seem altered as you make your way from the stables back to your room, trying to avoid any and all eyes on you.

You were a sight to see: face and hands covered in blood, your jacket ripped and your arm bleeding, dirt covering your clothes, and a distant look in your eye.

Levi stops you just outside of your door, his gaze trying to peer into your own troubled (colored) one. For the first time, Levi can’t tell what you’re thinking, and in a way… it almost scares him.

“Y/n- ”, he starts but is stopped when you cut him off and robotically state, “Thank you,” and then disappear into your room without another word. The door clicks shut with a small gust of wind, leaving a disheveled Levi outside with a look of surprise on his face.

He stares at the door for a moment, wondering whether or not he should go after you or send someone to help, but then he thinks better of it and heads towards the king’s chambers to inform him of the raid.

---

It was the day following the bandit attack, and you had two guards following you on your heels. Bertholdt and Colt were both on edge, you could tell. You know they weren’t quite as experienced, and that they knew you had seen something… dark, yesterday.

The two of them don’t say a word, though, and follow quietly behind you as you make your way towards one of the sitting gardens within the palace. You had gotten cleaned up, your skin washed from any traces of blood and dirt, but you couldn’t help but feel like Rico’s blood coated your body.

You felt like red was covering you, smothering the fine lace of your light blue dress. But it wasn’t. So you kept quiet and walked, trying to clear the encroaching feelings and thoughts from your mind and body.

You find yourself slowing near a white rose bush, and you gaze upon the seemingly perfect flowers for a moment before muttering, “Isn’t it funny how this flower can grow so perfectly? Can live a life so pure?”

Colt and Bertholt stop behind you, giving each other inquisitive looks but not answering you. You don’t give them a moment to speak as you continue, “These flowers can stay here, in this garden, safe from the freezing temperature of the winter outside. They don’t ever have to die because they are safe, protected here.”

You turn to face your guards, a far-off, distant look in your eye as you mumble, “They don’t ever have to experience death, only the rebirth of new life.” A tear falls quickly from your eye, sliding down your cheek and onto the ground next to your heel-clad shoe.

Without another word, you turn on your heel and continue through the garden, solemn. 

Your day is slow, and you can’t battle the thoughts that seem to torture you every waking moment. The moment you are released from your duties for the day, you set your sights on a glow in the middle of the darkness. The forge.

You hadn’t spent time in the smoked and charred room since Levi had taken you on as an apprentice. Typically you were so exhausted that you would just go to your room to clean up and fix up your armor and blades.

But tonight, you couldn’t stand looking at the walls in your room, or the pages of your favorite book that you could get so easily lost in. No, tonight, you needed to get out and get away from sitting and doing nothing.

So, you find yourself in the corner of the forge near the hearth, quietly stoking the fire, lost in thought. You thought about trying to find a blade to sharpen, or some armor that needed polished, but your feet seemed glued to the dirt floor next to the growing flames.

Deep marigold mixed with tawny and carmine, forming an intricate dance as you scoped the flames, looking for something. Maybe it was so that you could catch a sight of the soft sapphire and indigo licks that seeped in and out of the rusty haze. Maybe it was so that you could leave the thoughts of the bloody bandits out of your mind. Maybe you just wanted to forget the sting on your arm as your heart shattered while Rico’s life slipped away from your fingers.

Or maybe it was to forget the relief you felt when Levi’s gaze found you in your utter panic. The peace that streamlined through your body when you could see concern etched on his features. The comfort you found when he placed his hand on your arm, asking if you were alright.

You shut your eyes as the thoughts berated you, one after the other. You could hardly stand them, all you wanted was one moment of silence from your mind. In the haze of your head, you don’t notice the lithe figure that slips into the forge room behind you.

The figure catches sight of you curled up next to the hearth, sitting on the dirt. You were wearing what he could only imagine was an expensive, imported dress, but here you were, sitting on the floor. Dust and ash lay on your lap and the edge of your hem, but it didn’t seem to bother you one bit.

Levi set his gear down as quietly as he could on the table near the door, mentally battling with himself on whether he should leave or not. Just as he takes a step back, the fire cracks, breaking your train of thought, and the angle of your gaze changes to catch him red-handed.

Levi could curse under his breath, but he stayed silent before dropping into a respectful bow and murmuring, “Princess.” Your (colored) orbs are tinted copper in the light of the forge, but they widen as they recognize who was before you.

In a moment, you try to scramble to your feet, but Levi cuts in, “No, no, please, stay where you are. I was going to clean my gear, but I can find somewhere else.” He straightens up from his bow, his gloved hand reaching for his gear before he hears your voice.

“Please stay,” your voice practically croaks out, “Please?” The pain in your voice immediately catches Levi’s attention, and he can feel his resolve crumbling when he sees the wet glimmer in your eyes. He drops his hand from his gear, instead plucking his leather gloves off and removing the rest of his bulky gear.

Levi makes his way over to you, feeling your searing gaze on his every movement. He chooses to sit on the opposite side of the hearth from you, giving him a good look at your tear-stained cheeks. The clear look of distress tugs on his heartstrings in a way that confuses him.

What was that for? He’s just here to make sure you’re okay. You’re here all alone with no one to protect you. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. He clears his throat, pushing the thoughts away as he asks, “Are you alright, princess?” You roll your eyes and sniffle, uttering, “Please just call me Y/n. And-” you pause, rubbing at your nose before sighing, “I don’t know.”

You can feel Levi’s watchful gaze on you, but you choose to gaze deeper and deeper into the flames. It’s silent between the two of you, and you think that you might have said something wrong. Levi blinks slowly, thoughtfully, and then replies, “It’s okay, you know.”

This catches your attention, and you turn your cheek toward him, catching sight of the meaning of his silver gaze. He continues, “It’s okay, to feel the way you feel. It’s not an easy thing to deal with.”

You want to brush him off and defend the soft and broken part of your heart, but you realize that Levi saw straight through your uncertainty. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Levi cocks his head slightly, his gaze burning into you like the heat wafting into your sides from the fire.

You swallow thickly, a dry and humorless chuckle falling from your lips as you manage, “It’s such a natural thing, yet all I can do is replay that moment over and over again, wishing there was something else I could do to save him.” “There wasn’t,” the instant reply comes.

Levi hadn’t taken his eyes off of you once, and you meet his gaze with a furrow in your brow as you fight off an incoming wave of sadness. “There wasn’t,” he repeats, softer this time, “That soldier was lucky to have you in his last moments, Y/n. At his end, he knew nothing else other than someone cared for his life.”

He finally tears his eyes away and he mutters, “And that can mean a lot to someone.” You take in Levi’s appearance at that moment. This… interesting, to say the least, soldier, sitting on the ground with a crying princess, talking about death. It was almost funny, the way it seemed like everything to you, but just another burden to carry for him.

In a bold move, you reach forward, your fingers gently resting on top of his own hand as you question, “How do you deal with death, Levi?” You shuffle your feet ever so slightly to get more comfortable, waiting for him to pull away at any moment.

Instead, he flips his hand over so that your digits rest in his palm, and looking at your hands he replies, “I remember them.” He glances up at you through his darkened lashes and when he sees the confused look on your face he elaborates, “When they were normal, healthy, alive. I remember whenever they smiled or laughed. When they weren’t sick or dying.”

You nod delicately, taking in the deep timbre of his voice and the emotion that it carries. You reply, “But what if I don’t have those memories? I only saw Rico in passing a handful of times, I barely knew his name.”

Levi squeezes your hand and states, “You carry on with your life, living for him. Enjoying each moment so that his life doesn’t go to waste.” You give the dark-haired male a saddened smile and nod, squeezing his hand back when your voice seems to fail.

Thank you.

---

The chill of winter slides away with the onset of a warming spring, and things have been becoming more normal. You and Levi finally resumed training once you seemed to cope with the loss of Rico.

You were behind, yes, but doing everything in your power to catch up but with one major caveat. Your 18th birthday was just around the corner. Your days were full of meetings, ballroom preparations, lessons, training, and sword practice. There had hardly been any downtime to relax or breathe, and everything was slowly becoming overwhelming,

Levi was accommodating though, with practices starting later and later in the evening. You had started to learn and understand this raven-haired boy better, with his insomniac-like tendencies, and his peculiar and dry sense of humor.

You liked spending time with him.

To your benefit, Levi was a surprisingly good teacher, and even though most nights you were tired and fed up, Levi could handle your banter. He had a sharp tongue, which kept your focus on getting better, but he was never too harsh.

Whenever he was unable to help you, Annie or Pieck picked up the slack to be your punching bag or let you try out a new combination on them. But with months of training under your belt, you were becoming an increasingly lethal opponent.

One evening you were getting ready to head down to the training yard to practice with Levi, fixing your gauntlets and securing your sword as you rushed to get ready. It was the night before your 18th birthday, and your mother insisted on planning a huge ball for your coming of age.

Just as you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit, there was a knock on your door. Latching onto the handle, you open it to see Levi, who always comes by your room before practice. There was one glaring difference that caught your eye, shock covering your features as your gaze took him in. 

He typically donned his plain, smooth metal practice gear when training with you, but instead, Levi was covered in new, glimmering plates of intricate armor. The smooth breastplate that once was blank and had no symbol, was now textured metal lined with gold and donned the royal insignia on it. His expression was no different than normal, he just wore his usual, stoic frown.

Your eyes widen at the realization of his upgraded armor and you can’t help the words that burst from your mouth, “You’ve made it into the guard?!” It comes out as an almost-shout, which catches Levi’s attention.

His silvery gaze widens ever-so-slightly at your realization, and he shuffles on his feet before he gives you a slow nod. He straightens up for a moment before motioning to the hallway outside of your room and replies, “Let’s go for a walk, princess.”

Your mouth is still parted open in surprise, and your hands have come to interlock in front of your chest, but you do as he requests and move to walk side-by-side with him down the hallway. Your footsteps fall in sync out of habit and you gasp at him again and say, “I didn’t know you were getting knighted today, you should have told me!”

The new knight just shrugs as if it made no difference to him, folding his arms behind his back in thought. He briefly looked to the ground and his black locks moved to fall over his angled cheekbones.

You playfully hip-bump him lightly, trying to reinforce your point. On the rare occasion he wasn’t paying attention, or he was just letting you think that, he stumbles forward a little bit. His arms come down to rest at his sides again and he looks over at you, slightly offended.

Giggles fall from your lips at his reaction and you chuckle out, “I’m serious! That's such a huge deal and you've only been here for a few months.” A soft, barely noticeable flush covers Levi’s cheeks, and he’s thankful that you don’t seem to see it.

He looks directly in front of you two and replies, “I’m doing my best to protect the kingdom.” You scoff and roll your eyes before retorting, “Puh-lease, you do your own thing without regard for anyone. That’s how you are, Levi.”

Levi’s eyes narrow as he turns to face you and just as he opens his mouth to respond you cut in, “I don’t even know if I can count your friends on the one hand.” You give him a look that says, “You know I’m right,” and he just rolls his eyes and groans, “It’s not like you’re much better, you only hang out with your guards and your maids.”

The playful banter between the two of you continues as you walk the cascading hallways of the castle. The intricate paintings hanging on the walls start to catch the rays of the glowing candlelight and the setting sun.

Before you know it, Levi is steering you into one of the courtyards - Josephina’s Garden Hall. You smile softly at the fond memory of your first-ever training session in this very garden. As you look around, there is not a single person around.

The thought crosses your mind that people are preparing for your birthday, which is just around the corner. Your mother was practically bursting at the seams to host a ball in the largest ballroom of the castle, so all energy was put towards the festivities.

Of course, there were still guards and knights littering the perimeter, but there were fewer stationed around unoccupied areas to focus on decorating or protecting the exterior of the castle.

Levi pulls ahead of you by just a stride, heading toward one of the walls that is adjacent to one of your favorite rose gardens. One of the bushes is coated in giant red blooms, and just as you are about to say how beautiful they are, Levi reaches for something behind one of the flowers.

“What are you-” you start but are interrupted when you catch sight of what he was grabbing. It was a brand new, dark leather sheath with a sword in it. A sheath with your initials on it.

You quickly glance from Levi to the sheathed blade and back again. He returns your gaze with a strange intensity you’ve only ever seen once from him, and it makes you want to almost squirm. It felt like he was seeing through and into you, and it made your heart flutter in your chest in a way you never experienced.

“Happy birthday, princess,” Levi whispers, handing you the darkened leather. Your lips are parted in complete surprise as you accept it from him, your eyes raking over the intricacy of the stitching of your initials.

You don’t waste another moment before grabbing onto the hilt of the sword, drawing it firmly out of the sheath. The last of the sun’s rays catch the unmarked length of the blade, making it glow like an ember burning in the hottest of fires.

Your mouth had fallen open in true admiration and shock at this point, and you turned to Levi in complete wonder and appreciation. You swallow thickly and stutter out, “I, I can’t accept this, Levi,” dropping the sword back into the sheath and offering it back to him.

The dark-haired man simply shakes his head and states, “You deserve that blade, princess. You’ve worked very hard, and while you still have a lot to learn, you need more than a wooden practice sword or dull blade to protect yourself.”

You can’t help the huge smile that rushes to your face, and a wave of excitement takes over you. In a split second, you lunge forward toward Levi, crushing him into a huge hug.

He once again isn’t fast enough to react, and he’d never admit it, but he was enraptured at the sight of you: your hair falling perfectly around your face, the light of the sun reflecting the pure joy in your eyes, the strength you exuded as you held your new blade… you were stunning.

Levi struggles against you for a second, afraid someone would think he was taking advantage of you, alone like this, but after a moment, softens into your embrace and slowly pats you on the back.

You pull away from the hug as a stray tear runs down your cheek. You sniffle as you let out an embarrassed laugh, wiping at the tear as you gush, “I apologize, I didn’t mean to get so emotional. This is such a beautiful gift, Levi. I don’t even know how to properly thank you.”

Levi lets a hint of a smile rest on his lips, and his eyebrows softening ever so slightly as he murmurs, “You don’t need to thank me for anything. I should be thanking you for giving me a place here at the palace, and I apologize for being so rude when I first arrived.”

You wave your hand dismissively at him before laughing, “It’s alright, you were the first and only person to openly challenge me like that, and I needed that reality check.”

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, close to one another but not quite touching. You shuffle and glance at your feet and at your hand holding your new blade. You mumble, “There’s something I want to ask you, Levi.”

He quirks an eyebrow in interest at your sudden shift in tone but he motions for you to go on with a gentle nod. You sigh before a saddened smile covers your face, the dying rays of the sun just catching the last of your drying tears.

“Annie is leaving the guard after my birthday celebration is over,” you explain, “She wants to live a life with her father in the country, and the king has arranged for her to leave. That leaves a gap in my defense, and while I’m much more capable of defending myself, I’m missing a knight-” “I’ll do it.”

Levi’s voice comes out soft and low, and it catches you off guard at how much emotion it seems to hold. “I’ll join your personal guard if that is what you wish, princess. Just say the word and that will be my next mission in life.”

You blink up at him, your smile shifting from one of sadness to one of thanks, “Please, would you join my personal guard?” Levi bows to you and utters quietly under his breath, so quiet you don’t hear him, “As you wish.”

When he stands up straight, you give him a slight bow and the two of you stop for a moment, silently regarding the other. A moment passes and you give him an almost cheeky smile before turning away, and without hesitation, Levi follows you.

---

You see, that was the start of a beautiful friendship between you and the dark-haired man. It was built on long days of sparring, bickering, and slowly but surely, tolerating each other. On the day of your 18th birthday, Levi was appointed to your guard and soon began taking his patrols with Pieck, swapping in and out with Porco, Reiner, and the other guards who had also recently been knighted.

Now officially a knight, it was harder to get training practices in, but whenever it was his shift to watch over you, the two of you found yourselves in the training grounds. The training sessions continued for months, your sword skills becoming more and more refined.

Before you knew it, a year or two seemed to slip by like the finest silk, and your friendship with Levi bloomed into something tried, true, and trustworthy. He was always there when you needed him to be, a reliable soldier and a trusted friend.

You weren’t blind to how the two of you grew up, Levi got slightly taller and thicker with muscle. No matter the day, he always, always, always got stronger. You, on the other hand, became more elegant and stronger in your own ways. You became physically stronger, yes, but you found your voice and learned how to rule and talk to your subjects while remaining kind as you always had been.

Over time, Levi had learned your ways rather quickly. The time you woke up. How long it took you to roll out of bed. Just how you liked your morning coffee or tea. It seemed so domestic every morning whenever he’d knock on your door to see if you were awake or not. 

A fondness developed between the two of you for those easy morning conversations, not that either of you would admit it. While the two of you constantly bickered and playfully argued, Levi saw through the facade and to the sweet and tender side of you.

It was moments when you would kindly thank your maids, or encourage your younger siblings. He saw the way you treated the guests who would visit from overseas, and he found a deep respect for you.

And although you had many personal guards, Levi ended up being the one that stuck by you the most often, often by your parent's wishes. With Levi in the guard and not out protecting the towns surrounding the palace, crime rates had increased. And so, the king and queen wanted you to be the safest you could, with the best protection around.

---

On a cool winter morning, with snow glistening on the windowsill, you had just gotten dressed and were preparing for a meeting with your parents. They had found someone they thought would be a lovely suitor for you, as you were now old enough to be betrothed to someone of equally high status.

A soft knock on your door catches your attention, and you fumble with your earrings as you call, “Just a moment!” But the door opens anyway, and in comes Levi, a scowl covering his face.

Yet when his eyes land on you, fixing your earring in a slight panic, his eyes soften and he mutters, “It’s just me, relax.”

His silvery eyes seem to linger, though. They take in the gentle curve of your cheek dusted with blush, then fixate on the necklace hanging around your neck.

Levi is no fool. He has come to know you over the years, and he knows you are one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen. Of course you were, you’re a princess.

He has to shake his head slightly to clear his thoughts before he coughs once to clear his throat. Levi glances up at you and states, “It’s almost time for your meeting with the king and queen, Y/n.”

You give him a warm smile and ask, “Walk with me?” Levi offers you his arm in his classic fashion, and you take hold of his arm like you always did.

Levi guides you out of your room and down the familiar hallway. The arches were cast in a soft, ethereal glow, the snow from the courtyard reflecting the light brightly. Your steps land in sync and quietly echo as the two of you silently move toward the meeting halls.

You sigh and glance down at the floor as you mumble, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Levi. My parents have spent so long trying to find me a suitor, but I’ve disliked all of them. I’m afraid they’re running out of patience, or that I’m not worthy to be a good wife.”

Levi stops in his tracks at your words, a bored and stern look on his face. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand before running it through his black locks and saying, “Are you kidding me, Y/n? You are a beautiful, strong, and intelligent princess. You are practically the epitome of a queen and wife, and if anything, I think you scare a lot of your suitors off because of that.”

Surprise floods over you, and the words of praise coming from Levi seem to float around in your mind. Beautiful? Strong? Smart? He thinks I’m beautiful?

But Levi doesn’t give you any more time to think. He continues walking, dragging you along as he finishes, “Just because you haven’t found the right man for you yet, doesn’t mean that you won’t find him. He might be the most surprising person you’ll ever meet.”

You stay quiet at that, walking silently next to your knight and trying to process his words. And before you know it, you have made it to the meeting room where you knew your parents and a suitor would be waiting.

Levi slowly releases your grip, letting his hand slide down your arm before grasping your palm. He gives your hand a gentle and encouraging squeeze before releasing it, and walking up to the large door.

He hits the knocker three times to signal your arrival, and just a moment later two butlers open the door from the inside, ushering the two of you in.

Just as you expected, your mother and father were sitting at the head of the table, and at your entrance into the room, all eyes were set on you and Levi. You are dressed to perfection, regarding the room with elegance and grace, taking in the setup and the profile of the room and the suitor.

The tall, blonde gentleman stands up and bows before you can speak and states, “Good morning, princess.”

You swallow deeply and smile as you curtesy and reply, “Good morning, sir.” You take your seat next to your mother, and you can feel Levi’s steps stiffen as he walks behind you, pulls your chair out for you, and gets you settled in.

He ends up standing a chair or two down in the corner of the room, watching and waiting as he was trained. Your eyes flash towards your parents in a sweet greeting before you take in the appearance of the suitor.

The man was tall. Very tall. He had longer blonde hair and just a small bit of facial hair. He wore very fine clothing, embroidered with intricate details, and obviously fitted by a professional tailor.

The potential suitor bows again and states, “I appreciate your time this morning, Princess Y/n, my name is Viscount Miche Zacharius.”

At the sound of his name, you could hear Levi’s blade scraping against the wall ever so slightly. You shoot him a concerned glance, but all you can see is a hardened look on Levi’s face.

He looked… mad?

You turn back to Miche, and with a practiced smile you reply, “It’s wonderful to meet with you this morning, my lord.” The blonde smiles in response, and before he can speak again, the king cuts in, “Tell us about your kingdom, Miche. Y/n would love to hear about your homeland.”

Your teeth grit together as your father speaks for you, but you keep the practiced smile plastered on your face as you watch Miche chuckle slightly nervously, but he nods. 

Seconds fade into minutes, and minutes lead onto an hour as Miche, your father, mother, and occasionally you, make conversation. You could tell Miche was a nice man with good morals, but there was something lacking in the conversation that kept you jumping for joy.

However, your mother and father thought the two of you kicked things off well, even considering the fact they hardly let you talk to the man. Your mother was so enthralled with the idea of you and Miche that she suggested a ball to be hosted for the two of you to get to know one another better - an offer your father couldn’t refuse. And neither could you.

“What a grand idea!” Miche exclaims, standing up to shake your father’s hand, “Do let me know of the details as soon as you get it planned.” He then turns to you, excitedly and says, softer, “I do hope you’ll save me some spaces on your dance card, princess.”

You giggle uncertainly and reply, “Of course, my lord.” At that, Miche takes your hand, gently, and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles before giving you a bow and leaving the room, your father a pace behind him.

Your mother is practically swooning at how sweet the man seems to be, but you are quite taken aback by his forwardness. You hear metal scrape against the wall again, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see a firm frown etched on Levi’s features.

He was pissed.

The walk back to your room is quiet and tense, with no words passing between the two of you. You could have practically screamed in frustration when your door finally latched closed and it was just you and Levi on the other side.

“Who does he think he is?!” you immediately lament, whipping around the face of Levi, who’s already rubbing at his face in frustration. In response, he just groans, “I think he’s the most bold one yet. You have to dance with that guy?”

You pause and look Levi in the eye before groaning, flopping down onto your bed like a little girl. Levi folds his arms across his chest and shrugs, “At least he’s polite?” You harshly look over at him, a pout on your lips. 

“He’s like talking to a tree that never became a book. He just kept growing,” you manage to mumble around the sheets of your bed. Levi scoffs at your words before leaning back against the door and snaps back, “The guy sure is full of himself. No wonder it’s taken him this long to find a wife.”

You feel a pang run through you and you sit up from your bed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’ve been looking for a suitor for a while too, Levi. Hopefully, I’m not full of myself. Or not too picky.” Your hands find themselves carding together as you look down at them, and you miss the dark-haired knight’s expression change.

The furrow in his brow softens and he pushes off the wall to stand in front of you. He takes a breath as he stops in front of you and starts, “Y/n, I-” But you beat him to it, “What if I never find love, Levi?” You look up to meet his silver gaze at that moment, tears darkening your lashes.

Levi sighs, letting the air flow freely out of his nose as he sits down next to you on your bed, quiet. Then, he meets your gaze once again and he murmurs, “You will, Y/n/n. You will.”

You smile sadly at him, and he reaches his hand toward your face to tuck an unruly piece of hair out of your face. Just before his hand can make contact with your skin, there is a knock at the door. 

The moment is gone in a flash, and Levi quickly moves to stand post by the doors to your balcony and you wipe under your eyes. You guiltily look at Levi, who has gone back to his classic stoic look, staring straight ahead.

Another pang of guilt runs through you as you tear your eyes away from his frame, instead focusing on the person on the other side of your door. You take a breath and then call, “Come in!” Then, a head of blonde hair appears and you recognize the guard as Reiner.

“I was told I might find you here,” he says with a bow, “I was sent to relieve Levi from duty for a little while.” Reiner props the door open a little further before stepping into the room, and Levi turns to regard his fellow soldier with a respectful nod.

Before he leaves the room, the dark-haired man faces you and gives you a bow with a simple, “Good day, princess.” Before you know it, he’s gone, and it’s just you and Reiner left in the silence of the room.

---

Over the next couple of days, you didn’t see much of Levi. You thought it slightly odd, but you figured he was on a personal quest for your father or taking some personal days. Eventually, when you were trying to find him so you could spar a little, he couldn’t be found anywhere.

You stopped a maid who had brought fresh linens for your bed and asked, “Have you seen a short, dark-haired knight recently? He goes by the name Levi, I haven’t seen him in a while.” The maid pauses in thought and then replies, “I do think I recall a dark-haired soldier turning up in the infirmary a few days ago. I can check to see if that is who you are talking about.”

You shake your head and quip, “There will be no need for that, I will make my way there now.” Without another moment’s notice, you turn and slide out of your room, (colored) gaze set on finding the infirmary.

Typically, you didn’t spend much time in the infirmary because you were royalty and you had your own personal staff. However, you occasionally would pick up small supplies after training if you had a small cut or brush burn from the grass.

It was fairly quiet as you slipped into the entrance of the sick bay, with no doctors or nurses in sight. You take a deep breath as you peer around the few rooms that make up the infirmary, making your way as silently as you can so as to not disturb anyone resting.

Just as you make it to the last room, you can hear coughing on the other side. You just barely peer through the door when you catch sight of a familiar black head of hair. Levi.

You push the door open and remark, “I wondered where you disappeared to, soldier.” Levi’s head immediately snaps up to take in your frame entering his small room. He opens his mouth to answer you, but another coughing fit overtakes him.

You rush next to his side, finding a small cup of water on his bedside table. You offer him the cup, watching him soothe his irritated throat with a frown before handing the water back to you.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he grumbles out lowly, trying to avoid sputtering again. A giggle slides through your lips before you can stop it, and you bring a hand up to cover your smile when you catch sight of Levi’s annoyed gaze. It only makes you giggle harder, and you can see his displeased look ease a little at your laughter.

As you calm down, you manage to take a breath and smirk, “It looks like you’re sick to me, Levi.” The dark-haired knight just rolls his eyes, his hands fiddling with the blanket on his lap to pull it up higher on his waist.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbles out again, “The king and queen forced me to come down here so I can “recover as fast as possible” or something.” You nod knowingly with a gentle smile on your face, saying, “I can imagine they only had the best intentions and wanted to see you well before the suitor’s ball tonight.”

He groans and rubs at his flushed face with one hand and mumbles through his night shirt’s sleeve, “Don’t remind me about that. I think standing there watching everyone dance and act so cheerful would kill me faster than any blade would.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at your best friend replying, “You are so dramatic!” But then a moment passes and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear saying, “Actually, you’re probably right. My mother is going to have me hanging on every man’s arm within a thousand miles tonight.”

This time, Levi is the one to just barely crack a smile and he shrugs, “Who knows, you might actually enjoy the ball. There will be no lack of eligible suitors, and I can’t imagine all of them are complete imbeciles.”

His words get you to giggle again, and you nod along in agreement, your eyes trailing toward the clock on the wall. As the time on the clock registers in your mind, panic starts to set in and you scramble to your feet muttering, “Crap, crap, crap!”

Levi’s gaze follows yours and he realizes it too: you’re late for getting ready! You glance apologetically at Levi, who goes to swallow and then starts sputtering with more coughs.

He waves you off and manages to squawk out, “Go have fun, tell me all about it later.” You give him a grateful smile and over your shoulder you call out, “I will! Please try to feel better and get some rest!”

With one last glance over your shoulder, you set off toward your room to get ready for the ball. Your maids about mauled you when they finally managed to wrangle you into your ballgown and start to get you presentable for the public.

Since Levi was out sick, Reiner and Porco were assigned to watch over you for the evening. They follow closely as you make your way to the ballroom, greeting guests pleasantly and making your way to the heart of the festivities.

While the ballroom was decorated magnificently, the entire atmosphere felt slightly disappointing and moderate. There were many suitors around, none of which seemed to interest you. In the distance, you could see Miche talking with another tall blonde male, but you ducked behind a waiter to make your move toward the king and queen.

Your parents were talking with lords about their investments and businesses, and all you managed to understand was that they wanted money from the royals. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes, but you stand quietly and listen to the conversation come to a close.

Your mother turns to you, excitement written on her features as she hands you a piece of paper saying, “Here is your dancing card, dear! I’ve already done you the liberty of picking out which suitors to dance with based on their resumes. Have fun!”

She wraps the filled-out dancing card around your wrist, tying it neatly before giving you a giddy smile and pushing you toward the man whose name is first on the list. Miche Zacharius.

You groan internally as you make your way over to the tall man, who grows visibly interested as you break into his peripheral. He excuses himself from his conversation, bowing in front of you when he sees you stop in from of him.

“Princess Y/n,” he says, straightening up and catching the lustrious light in your eyes. You give him a shallow curtsey and reply, “Lord Miche, how lovely to see you this evening.” In the back of your head, you couldn’t help but wish you were anywhere else at this very moment.

Miche tips his head toward you and shrugs, “I think it is I who am the lucky one to be in your presence.” And as if on cue, the orchestra starts playing the next song, a waltz, to which Miche offers you his hand with a, “May I have this dance?” 

You give him a tight-lipped smile and place your gloved hand in his own, allowing the tall blonde to escort you to the empty dance floor. He begins to move the two of you around the dance floor, carefully swinging you through the other couples who start dancing around you.

Miche smiles down at you and asks, “If I may ask, princess, how many children would you like to have one day?” It feels like the air is sucked out of your lungs as you give him a polite smile and respond, “Sorry, I’m trying to count my steps, perhaps we can discuss this later?”

He has the liberty to keep his mouth shut during the first dance, but once the two of you take a break and you look at your dance card, you can see your mother has booked him for the next four dances.

During those dances, Miche asks you too many questions, to which you politely respond. You tried to sound not too interested but also not too dry, simply polite. You were praying for when the fifth song would end, and you don’t think it could come soon enough.

The whole point of the ball was aggravating to you, and you couldn’t help but hate the evening as you were twirled from lord to lord. You wanted to slip out unnoticed, find a pint of wine or something of the like, and complain about all of it to Levi.

However, you manage to stick it out through the night, engaging in pointless conversation and dancing until you are about to roll your ankles. As the night wrapped up and your dancing card was completed, you scanned the crowd, your eyes landing on Porco and Reiner, who seemed to be arguing about which lady in waiting was the prettiest.

You scoff at the two knights, but with them distracted, it gives you the perfect opportunity to slip away. You take one more scan of the room before slowly backing out of one of the doorways. With no one’s eyes on you, you disappear from the ball without a trace.

You had your eyes set on one thing - go check on Levi and tell him about your endeavors that night. You weren’t able to find a bottle of wine to easily sneak out, but you did find a small plate of cheese that you grabbed on your way to the infirmary.

As you make your way back to Levi’s sick room, you can hear the sound of metal scraping. You raise an eyebrow at the noise, and as you poke your head into the small room, you can see the source.

There’s Levi, sharpening his blade in the middle of the night. You sigh and bring your hand up to knock on the wall to alert him of your arrival. His head snaps up quickly from his sword to your figure at his door, his body going tense in a moment.

When he realizes it's you, you can see him relax, but his gaze remains on you, fixed. You can’t quite place the look on his face, his eyes are wide and locked onto you, completely frozen. You duck under the sudden intensity in his gaze, murmuring, “I brought you some cheese from the ball.”

You walk into the room, the ruffles on the edge of your skirt rustling as you place the plate next to his water on the nightstand by his bed. Levi’s silver gaze follows your every movement, no words escaping him. You sit down in the chair next to his bed, grab a small piece of cheese, and pop it into your mouth with a huff.

You glance over to see Levi still staring at you while you chew, and suddenly you feel hot under his watchful gaze. You look down for a second and swallow before asking, “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

A moment passes as you wait for his response, and it gives you a second to take in his condition. His usually pale cheeks were painted pink with a gentle flush and his skin was slightly shiny from sweat. He must have a bit of a fever, you think to yourself.

Levi swallows thickly as he looks at you, his mouth opening and closing once or twice with no words leaving them. Mistakenly, you think he can’t answer because his throat hurts and he needs water, so you burst out, “Let me get you something to drink!”

Your hand reaches to grab his cup of water, which seems to be empty. In a flash, Levi’s hand has wrapped around your wrist, his silver eyes never leaving your face. The quick movement startles you, which makes you drop the cup, a small amount of water falling onto the floor.

Levi’s sword clatters to the ground, which makes you flinch in surprise. You glance from the water pooling near your feet to the sword that landed on the opposite side of the bed and back to Levi. 

Your mouth parts open in a stammer as you start, “Sorry, let me, uhm… let me grab a towel to clean this-” “You look beautiful,” he cuts in lowly. You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his comment, the words slowly registering in your head.

Once they do, you can feel butterflies erupt in your belly and you glance away from the dark-haired knight and roll your eyes playfully. “Oh hush, you’re just seeing things with your sickness.”

This seems to snap Levi out of his daze and he releases your wrist with a playful scoff of his own, “You wish, princess.” You smile at him, one that he knows is of thanks to his compliment. He clears his throat and questions, “How was the ball? It must not have been great if you are down here all ready.”

You lean down to pick up his cup off the wooden floor, a groan falling from your lips, “It was all crap, Levi. It was men who wanted money, men who wanted the crown, and men who wanted to dance. It was so annoying. ”

You straighten back up, placing the cup back on the table and skirting around the water on the ground. Levi chuckles at that, and he motions to the edge of his bed with his chin and says, “Tell me all about it.” A giggle falls from your lips as you move to sit near his feet and you reply, “As long as you’ll listen to me complain about how terrible of a dancer Miche is!” 

The rest of the evening is peaceful compared to the stress of the ball, the two of you making fun of the suitors and princes from across the countryside. You don’t even realize how late the evening runs, but you do know that you aren’t ready for bed just quite yet.

---

A couple of days had passed since the suitor’s ball and Levi had been put down with his illness. Thankfully, after another day or two of rest, he seemed to turn for the better and was ready to get back to the service.

Just around 8 o'clock in the morning, just as he always would, Levi makes his way toward your bedroom, feeling energetic and recovered from being sick. He stops in front of the familiar and grandiose door, pausing in thought before knocking on the dark wood.

He waits for a minute or so, but he doesn’t hear any noise from the other side of the door. The dark-haired knight sighs in slight annoyance, it’s his first day back, after all, and you aren’t responding. Levi knocks again on the door, this time a little harder and with more urgency.

When he is once again met with silence, he takes it upon himself to call out, “Princess Y/n? Are you alright?” To anyone else, it may have sounded like he was just calling out to you, but between you and him, he knew there was worry in his voice.

His impatience seems to take over him, and Levi finds his fingers wrapping around the door handle and pushing it open. As he steps into your room, one he had been in many times, his steely gaze rakes across every detail he sees.

Your bed was empty and remade, so you weren’t asleep. The loveseat in the corner of your room where you typically sat and read was also void of your presence. Levi turned toward the bathroom that was connected to your room, but there was no sign of candlelight or movement.

A sigh falls from Levi’s parted lips in frustration, and he shuts your bedroom door behind him before stepping deeper into your personal space. He opens his mouth, about to call out for you again before he sees a figure moving in the walk-in closet behind your desk.

It’s you, thankfully, and Levi’s figure relaxes as he takes in the… interesting sight of you. You were shuffling out into the main space of your bedroom, your hands grabbing at the bodice of the dress, with a slightly irritable look on your face.

He almost cracks a smile as he watches you fumble and almost trip as you make your way up to him, but instead, he murmurs, “Well good morning to you, princess.” You give him a playful scowl and mutter, “Shut up, …and help me zip this please?”

At the end of your sentence, you swivel 180 degrees, showing him your half-exposed back, where you couldn’t quite finish zipping the dress up. You wait a moment and then rush out, “I don’t know where my maids are and I couldn’t find anyone else to help-”

“It’s alright,” Levi’s voice cuts in lowly, and you can hear him take a step toward you. This makes you relax, shuffling your hands to pick the dress up to the correct height to be comfortable. 

However, with your back to Levi, you miss the complete and utter look of nervousness and awe on his face as his hands make contact with the soft skin on your back. His typically stoic resolve crumbles when his hands just barely begin to quiver as he grabs a hold of the fabric and begins to pull it taut.

Levi is silently cursing the heat that is rushing to his face, swirling in his chest, and giving him butterflies in his stomach. With pink dusting his nose and the close proximity to you, his magnificent best friend, he wasn’t sure what to feel. But, he pushes through, his hands grabbing onto your waist so the zipper would slide up the fabric with more ease.

You aren’t in much better condition than Levi, and you’re glad he can’t see your face. Heat is coursing through your veins, but his warm touch has chills running up and down your spine. A shuddery breath escapes you as you feel his palm flatten against your waist, and you have to will yourself to be calm as he works on zipping you in.

His fingers work in good time, making sure the intricacies of the dress are not damaged or pulled on as he zips the dress up closer to your neck. At the top of the zipper, there is a small clasp to keep it from pulling apart, and he brings both hands up to clasp it.

You feel his warm breath on your neck, and you can feel goosebumps rising on your skin from the small distance between the two of you. It’s completely silent between the two of you as he takes a minute step backward, but it’s enough for you to feel like you can breathe.

The air is thick, heavy almost. There was tension, and you aren’t quite sure where it originated from. You can’t help but be disappointed when his warm hands leave your waist, and you try to fight down the butterflies in your belly as your brain processes his touch.

You liked it. No, you needed more of it. 

What? How could you think that? Levi was your… what was Levi?

As you turn around to face him, you give him an uncertain and slightly shy smile and whisper, “Thank you.” Levi holds your (colored) gaze, looking deeply into what could almost be his favorite color, and gives you a subtle nod.

He was just your personal knight, right? He was your best friend, right? …You had no idea. 

You take a shuddery breath and start, “Levi, there’s something I-” but you are interrupted by a flock of maids bursting into your room. You jump away from Levi, who also takes a few steps backward and moves to stand near the door.

“We are so sorry, Princess Y/n, for being late! We knocked on the door several times but we did not hear an answer,” one of the older maids says, curtsying low in front of you. You turn to face her and you give her a tight-lipped smile and reply, “It is quite alright, Marie.”

The maid stands up and urges, “You must not be late for your foreign policies lecture, the queen will have my head if you are not on time!” You give her a nod and looking over her shoulder to Levi, you ask, “Walk with me?”

The maids clear out of the way, dispersing as quickly as they came. Levi clears the doorway for you, letting you lead the way down the hall. It was quiet for a moment before the dark-haired knight cleared his throat and murmured, “You were saying?”

“It was nothing,” you rush out, wringing your hands together in a nervous fashion. Silence falls between the two of you again, and you direct your vision to the many doors and paintings you pass on the way to the lecture hall.

It’s an uncomfortable silence, so you try to break it with a joke, “I was surprised you weren’t earlier than you were this morning, seeing as it is your first day back since your illness.” Levi scoffs at your remark and refutes, “I do believe it was you who was up earlier than normal, I knocked on your door precisely at 8 o’clock.”

You giggle at this, your hands still fiddling with one another as the pair of you glide down the hallway. The banter picks up between the two of you as normal, but Levi couldn’t help but feel like there was something you may have been hiding from him.

However, he brushes it off and tries to think nothing of it while he stands guard outside of your lecture hall. He tries to focus on getting back into work and pushes the feeling of your skin and body out of his mind.

---

It had been a few days since the zipper incident and the king and queen announced that they wanted to host a festival in the town square with the spring season ending and merging into a beautiful, warm summer. 

For you, it was one of your favorite times of the year, since you got the chance to meet with the children of the town. You loved playing with the children, encouraging their interests, and not letting them give up on their hopes and dreams.

You adored events like this, so it was only natural that you were getting dolled up to meet with the people of your home. The festival typically hosted live music from the best musicians around, food brought from all over the country, and the town square decorated to the top for the best area to go dancing.

You spent most of the morning getting ready for the festival. You had to make sure your dress was absolutely perfect - not too extravagant, but still dressy enough for everyone to recognize you as the princess. Then, you put the finishing touches to your makeup before Levi came knocking on your door around noon. 

“Are you ready?” he asks as he guides you through the castle and out through the gates. You sigh dreamily before answering, “I believe so. This is one of my favorite times of the year, after all.”

The two of you made your way down to the town just outside the palace, where people were bustling about, trying to finalize the touches to their stalls. Children were laughing and playing, running around with yellow and red streamers in their hands.

Levi guides you around them, leading you toward the heart of the festival, and your favorite place to be: the dance floor. There were even more children here, and the orchestra was just set off the to side of the tiled area, a joyful tune bouncing off of their strings.

You leave Levi’s side to join them, falling in with the children to dance and let loose. The daytime was made for the children during the festival, and then when the stars would come out and the sun sank below the horizon, the parents would enjoy themselves.

You sing and dance with the children for what seems like hours to Levi, but he doesn’t mind as he stands guard on the edge of the town square. He could easily see you but also maintain a visual around the dance area, his silver gaze on the lookout for any potential intruders.

The songs seem to blend together until a small brown-haired boy grabs onto your right hand. He tugged on your fingers for a moment and asked, “May I dance with you, Princess Y/n?” Your heart feels like it’s about to burst with the sweetness from the young boy, and you give him a sweet smile and a nod.

“Lead the way, good sir!” you chuckle out as you motion to the opening dance floor. Your sage green and dark brown colored skirts ruffle as you are led onto the floor by the bouncing young boy, and you can’t help but giggle as other young girls and boys join you in the middle of the town square.

You can hear the live orchestra count off, and the little boy offers you his other hand to dance, and with a genuine smile, you accept. Since the boy was maybe 8 years old, you had to lean down to hold both of his hands, but he didn’t seem to mind as he began to spin and twirl you around to the music.

While slightly clumsy and uncoordinated in his movements, you didn’t mind the boy's antics, giggling and laughing as the boy spun you, and you spun him. The other children were no different, gleefully dancing the night away.

You didn’t seem to notice Levi’s silver gaze watching you sharply, noting how you giggled each time the boy spun you or the way your eyes lit up when you got mixed up in all of the children dancing. To the dark-haired knight, you looked perfect at that moment.

With the afternoon sun’s warm rays casting down on you, you were simply golden. The festival's market stalls with red and yellow banners donning the kingdom’s insignia were paled in comparison to you. Although you were wearing a more simple gown for the festivities, you shone brighter than any of the lanterns or rays from the sun.

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. To put it simply, you looked gorgeous. Not just in the way that you were dressed and styled, but in the way that true joy brings out the best in someone. He could feel how raw your emotions were as you danced, and he couldn’t help but wish he was the one swinging you around instead.

Just as the upbeat song ended, Levi felt a passive tap on his side. He instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword, but when he looked to see what had bumped him, he immediately stopped.

There, looking up at him, was a little girl no older than 3 or 4 years old. She had dark, black curls falling around her face, and her bright blue eyes were wide as she stared up at the knight. The little girl taps again on his hand, slightly bouncing as she giggles, “Dance, dance!”

Little did Levi know, you had stopped dancing to catch your breath and talk to him, but you ceased your movements when you saw the little girl next to him. You can’t help but hold your breath as Levi turns to face her, and you can just barely make out the words he says.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he starts, moving to kneel down so he is at eye level with the girl. A frown starts to crease between her eyebrows and she repeats, “Dance! Dance!” She stomps her small feet against the ground in protest, and Levi says as he tries to explain, “I’m working right now, I’m not allowed to dance.”

Tears begin to well up in the little girl’s big blue eyes, threatening to spill down her smooth cheeks. Levi glances around for a second, eyes scoping to see if anyone watched him make this child cry. 

From the corner of his periphery, he catches sight of you watching the interaction. He groans internally, but then he sees you motion to the little girl, and he turns to face her again. She reached across to where his arm was resting on his knee, gently grabbing his fingers.

“Dance?” She repeats softer this time, the tears sliding from the edge of her eyes and down her cheeks. Levi’s heart can’t help but melt a little at the touching sight and he lets out a sigh of defeat.

“Just one dance,” he manages as he stands up straight, offering the girl his gloved hand. Instantly, the little girl starts smiling and giggling, “Dance! Dance, dance!” before launching onto Levi’s thigh.

He’s caught off guard for a second, stumbling back a few steps before regaining his balance. The little girl just laughs the entire time, and once again, Levi glances around for help. Unsure of what to do, he reaches down and picks the little girl up by her small waist, hoisting her up to his side opposite his blade.

Just then, the music started to pick back up and more people were making their way to the dance floor, and Levi begrudgingly followed, much to the little girl’s enjoyment. As he shuffles toward the edge of the dance floor, he catches sight of Zeke and Porco, who are standing guard on the other side of the tiled area.

He could see the two blondes snickering to themselves, pointing to the little girl and back to Levi. He can feel a moment of rage well up inside of him, but he pushes it down as he turns to face the little girl and says, “May I have this dance, miss?” 

The little girl throws her arms around Levi’s neck and giggles, “Dance, now, now!” Not a moment passes by before the crowd on the dance floor begins to move in sync with the music. Levi starts to copy everyone’s movements to the best he could holding a toddler, but she doesn’t seem to care about his mistakes.

He twirled and spun the two of them around, slowly but surely letting his guard down as he danced around with the girl. You on the other hand, sat watching the two of them from the sidelines, and your heart was swelling in your chest at the adorable scene in front of you.

I had no idea Levi could be so good with children, you think to yourself, Nor did I know he could dance! 

As the two of them passed by every few seconds, you could hear the little girl laughing away, and occasionally you could pick up the word “dance”. The music eventually slows to a finish, and you once again see Levi get down on one knee in front of the little girl.

He reaches under his short cloak and pulls out a small clutch of white daisies, offering them to the little girl. She smiles brightly at him as he says, “I would gladly dance with you again, miss.” The little girl launches at him again, wrapping him in an awkward hug before grabbing the flowers and running off.

Levi watches her small figure run up to a woman with two children next to her and another one in her arms. A minute smile makes its way across his lips as he sees the little girl reach up and give her mom the flowers, turning to point back at the dark-haired knight.

The woman gives him a grateful smile, and he pushes off his knees to stand straight and gives her a nod. Just then, he hears someone clear their throat behind him, and when he looks over his shoulder, he sees you standing there.

The sun was just starting to set behind you, illuminating your frame in its golden glow. Levi’s breath catches in his throat as he turns to face you, noting the sly smile on your lips. You rock back and forth on your feet before saying coyly, “I saw you dancing with that little girl, soldier.”

Levi feels a wave of heat wash over him in embarrassment, his cheeks slightly tinging pink at your comment. He glances to the ground with a shrug and mumbles, “It was nothing.” You scoff at him and playfully hip-bump him with a giggle of, “C’mon, that was absolutely adorable!”

You can see a smile start to crack through his faux facade and you nudge him again, and he finally caves in with a chuckle of, “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just hurt her feelings and leave her to cry.” 

You laugh along with him, grabbing his arm as he starts to guide you toward the food stalls, “And the flowers? That was a bit over the top!” He just rolls his eyes, a pleasant smile on his face as he sighs out, “Let’s go get you some food before nightfall.”

He guides the two of you through the market stalls, and you pick and choose which snacks and foods intrigue you the most. Just as you finish off a small glass of cherry wine, Levi pulls you behind one of the market stalls without a word.

You don’t question his movements, simply following in his footsteps until you see where he’s brought you. It’s just one street down from where all of the festivities are taking place, and it’s much quieter without the hustle of everyone and the harshness of the music.

The fresh air and light breeze swirl around you, making you take a deep breath through your nose that you slowly sigh out through your mouth, (colored) orbs fluttering closed. Levi watches you in that moment, noting the way your hair was coming slightly undone from a small clip that pinned away (colored) locks behind your ear.

Then you open your eyes and turn to him, a sweet smile on your lips as you say, “Thanks for getting me out of there for a bit, it was starting to get a little overwhelming.” He nods under your watchful gaze, motioning to a small bench just down the street.

The two of you sit down for a moment, eyes fixed on the sun setting in front of you. The once golden color was now bleeding shades of carmine and lavender, swirled with rusts and peaches. It was silent except for the sound of the festival on the other side of the stone wall behind your bench, not that you minded.

A few minutes of silence pass between you and Levi before he starts to shift, catching your attention. He once again reaches under his cloak, hand fumbling for a second before reappearing with one lone daisy.

The small white flower was still in good condition, only the stalk of the plant slightly bent from where it resided on his belt. You glance from the flower back to Levi, whose cheeks are once again slightly flushed, and he offers the flower to you.

Your (colored) gaze widens as you take it from him, admiring the pureness of the petals and the beautiful golden color of its core. You move to place it in your hair saying, “Thank you, Levi! This will be a lovely addition to my outfit tonight.”

You struggle for a moment, trying to push the stem through your unruly locks of hair that were tangled from dancing. Levi’s voice distracts you as he asks lowly, “May I help?” You give him a thin smile and a nod, handing the flower back to him.

Levi pulls the leather glove off of his left hand, setting it on his lap before taking the flower from you. His thin digits reach up slowly, so as to not scare you, before pushing the stem of the daisy through your (colored) tresses. He then brushes a small piece of hair behind your ear, securing the flower and then dropping his hand back to his lap.

It’s tense for a moment, the air thick with emotion, but Levi coughs once and then starts, “Y/n, I’ve been meaning to ask-” “This is my favorite song!” you burst out, your attention turning toward the music coming from the other street.

The tune was loud and unmistakably your favorite, and you stood up in a hurry, calling, “We must discuss this later! I cannot miss my favorite song!” And with that, you disappeared around the corner, with Levi sighing from where he was on the bench, his stomach dropping.

But, he takes a deep breath, stands up, and follows you back into the festival.

---

Night had fallen. The sky was a deep, midnight blue, flecked with stars that glimmered in the lantern light of the festival. The crowd was livelier now than it had been before dusk, with all the children tucked into bed and the parents out on the town.

For you, however, you were done with dancing and playing. Now, you had to act like the royalty you were supposed to be representing. And that meant dealing with your father and mother who wouldn’t stop talking about Miche and other suitors.

“Honestly, Y/n, I don’t see why you aren’t getting excited about this time in your life,” your mother chastises, motioning to you up and down with a look of slight disappointment on her face. You want to groan internally at her comment, but you just reply tightly, “I would be excited if I found someone worth marrying, mother!”

Your father clears his throat and insists, “Well I do have another fine set of suitors coming in for you to try out. I even believe one of them is a prince!” Instead of being excited by the thought of more suitors, it simply enraged you.

You rise to your feet quickly, rushing out, “I can’t do this.” You take off through the crowd of lords and ladies in waiting, weaving in and out of the people until you disappear from eyesight. You blocked out the calls of your parents as you made haste, tears starting to burn at the edge of your vision.

Levi witnessed the whole encounter from a few yards away, still standing guard for the evening. He immediately takes off after you without saying a word, skirting around the edge of the crowd while tracking your movements.

You don’t notice Levi following you, too enraptured with the thoughts racing in and out of your mind. Tears are blurring your vision, and you are fighting back sobs as you pick up speed, now running toward the edge of the town.

You clumsily find your way onto the roof of a house near the edge of town, the small building far from the center of the festivities. You clamber to the top of the roof, facing the rising moon, which casts a pale glow that makes it so you can see where you are stepping.

Your mind, however, was at war. More suitors? Can’t my parents tell I don’t like their choice of men for me? Have they not seen how I can’t stand any of them? Why don’t they understand I need someone who knows me…. Who likes to be around me, and I like to be around them?

Someone like Levi, the words ring out in your head. A gasp bursts from your chest and you aren’t sure if you’re crying or trying to catch your breath.

Levi?

His name makes you stop for a second, and as the tears slide down your face and you gaze up at the waxing moon, it clicks in your head. 

Your heart….  Yearned for someone like Levi. Your hands itched to grasp more than just his arm walking to and from a lecture. Your soul hungered for the conversations of intellect and familiarity. Your lips thirsted for his landing on yours.

The last thought makes your eyes widen in realization, but you don’t have any time to process it when someone sits down next to you. The familiar baritone sighs out, “There you are,” making you turn to face the dark-haired knight.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, one that is holding back tears and the few words circling your mind like a mantra. Levi’s silver gaze flits between your tearful eyes, and his features soften as he watches the teardrops stream down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” he almost coos, hunkering down a little to look up at your face as your chin dropped to your chest, attempting to stifle another sob. His brows furrow in thought before he asks quietly, “Are you alright, Y/n?”

There is a tenderness to his voice that almost makes you want to vomit, but you manage to strangle a deep breath in and let a shaky one out. You toss your head from side to side and stutter, “N-no, Levi. I- I’m, uh, not alright.”

You glance back down at your hands and stay silent. Levi stays still, deep in thought before gently imploring, “Would you like to talk about it? I am here to listen.” 

This time, when you look back up, Levi can see the moon and stars reflected in your eyes. They were still wet with tears, but your (colored) orbs seemed to hold the entire night sky in them for one second.

And in that one second, a calm peace seemed to wash over the two of you just as you started to speak, “My parents are bringing in more suitors for me to get to know. They don’t think I’m trying hard enough with my royal duties.”

You sniffle, glancing over at Levi and then continuing, “I just feel as if I don’t ever get to do what I want. Or maybe it’s that I’m frustrated they don’t understand what I want.” Levi nods in understanding when you finish talking, shuffling for a moment before murmuring, “Well, they did let you learn to fight, which is something you wanted to do.”

You sway side to side, swinging your head ever so slightly as if to contemplate his words before muttering, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Levi could tell that wasn’t the response you were hoping for, but he was never one to sugarcoat things.

“You need to stand up for yourself, Y/n/n,” he murmurs, softer this time. “They don’t take you seriously because they still see you as a child, following their every order. You need to make them realize you aren’t their precious little girl anymore,” and his gaze locks onto yours with a fiery intensity.

“You’re a woman now, and a strong and independent one at that,” he finishes passionately, moving to stand back up. His words echo in your head, and each time you hear the truths behind them, you can’t help but focus on the tone of his voice.

You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off, “Let’s get you back to the festival. We can’t have them thinking their princess ran off in the middle of the night.” At the end of his words, he offers you his hand to take, which you accept. He pulls you to your feet and steadies you before motioning back toward the glow of the festival and says, “After you, princess.”

---

It takes a few days for you to build up the courage to confront your parents about the whole suitor debacle. You knew it was something you couldn’t take lightly, but you knew you needed to tell them sooner rather than later.

And before you know it, you are standing in front of them, heart pounding in your chest as the words that your father just said pound in your head like a hammer.

Your mother and I are in agreement. You haven’t made sufficient effort in courting a suitor, so we have chosen one for you. You’re getting married tomorrow.

It feels like the floor dropped out from underneath you, falling into a nothingness that made your stomach whirl. Married? Tomorrow? You can’t deny their wishes even though your entire body is screaming at you to fight, argue, yell. But you can’t.

So instead, you numbly are whisked away to get fitted for a white gown that you didn’t want. You are run through the order of the wedding and the reception, what you are to do, what you are to say, how you are to act.

You didn’t have the guts to face Levi and tell him of the new development in your life, but you knew he was no fool. He heard the rumors, he saw the preparations. And when he was assigned to stand guard at the main hall the following day, he knew.

You hated everything.

You hated the yellowish tone of the white dress, you always wanted one that was more blush-toned. You hated the way your hair was pinned up off of your neck and out of your face. You didn’t want everyone to see your blank stare and emotionless eyes.

You didn’t want any of this. And neither did the dark-haired knight.

The two of you could only follow orders though, and so uneasily, you survived the night. The following morning comes and you are immediately fawned over by your maids and the wedding planners.

First - your makeup. Second, your hair. Finally, the dress. It was a routine that you had dreamed of being ecstatic about, completely in love with the man you were going to marry. But you weren’t.

There is a knock on your door precisely at noon. Three short taps in a row, followed by two shorter ones. Levi. Just thinking about him makes your heart ache with a pain you never knew you could experience.

A maid rushes to open the door, and just before her hand makes it to the golden handle, you call out, “Wait! Let the guard in and please leave. I require a moment alone.” The maid nods to you, opening the door with a smile and curtsy, sliding out of your room before a familiar figure makes his way in.

You were sitting on a short stool a few feet away from your vanity, staring at your reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. Your whole image was one of grace and elegance, everything a princess should be.

But the light in your eyes was one of a grounded bird. The emotion in your eyes was reminiscent of a beached whale. The frown on your face with the light of a dying deer, hunted by a mountain lion.

Levi stops in his tracks when he catches sight of you, his mouth parting as he takes in your appearance. To put it simply, you were beautiful. He coughs once to clear his throat, a tight line forming his lips before he states, “I am here to guide you to the main hall, Princess Y/n.”

You turn to face him at the sound of his voice, tears threatening to spill down your powdered cheeks. You can’t fight the wobble in your lip as you utter, “Levi…” You can’t see his brow furrow just a smudge more at the pain in your voice, and you feel terrible for not telling him.

“Levi, I- I-...” and you take a breath, your vision blurring over for a second before you continue, “I am so sorry for not telling you about this plan. My parents-” “I know,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You sniffle and stand up, wiping tears away and reaching for a small towel to pat your face dry. He watches every movement, in awe that he could be near someone so ethereal, so heavenly. Levi finds words on the tip of his tongue again, dancing through his mind, coursing through his blood.

But he knows he can’t say anything, it’s your wedding day, after all. He bites his tongue to keep them from spilling out of his mouth, instead giving you a moment to steel your nerves. You walk toward him once you have cleaned up your appearance, and you open your arms with a sad smile.

“Can I please have a hug? I think it might be the only thing to get me through the day,” you croak out with a subtle shrug. Levi’s heart is pounding in his chest, bursting at the thought and meaning of your words.

He nods though, and takes a step forward, opening his arms to wrap around your waist. Your arms come to rest around his neck, pulling the dark-haired knight closer. His hands are warm on your waist, a feeling you know you will miss when he pulls away.

You don’t mind the hard feel of his armor or the feeling of his breath on your neck. You wished the moment would never end so that you didn’t have to marry a man you didn’t love. It’s ruined when the bells outside your window start to ring, and Levi forces himself to slowly pull away from you, looking deep into your (colored) gaze.

You sniffle again saying, “Thank you, Levi. For everything.” He bows and murmurs, “As you wish, Y/n.” As I wish? I wish… I wish to live in this moment forever, Levi. With you.

Levi clears his throat again, and you can see his stoic mask go back on. You feel a pang of guilt wash over you, even though you know it's not your fault. He offers you his arm, and for what could be the last time, you take it.

He guides you down the familiar halls of the castle you grew up in. There are people fluttering about, finalizing the touches to the reception to be held after the ceremony, but you do your best to block them out.

Instead, you try to focus on the feeling of your hand on Levi’s shoulder pauldron, the chill of the silver metal keeping your attention on the knight. In step, the two of you make it outside the doors of the ceremony, where you will walk down the aisle, alone.

Levi reaches across with his second hand, the gloved fingers grabbing your own digits. He squeezes them slowly in a way you know is meant to calm you down. It’ll be okay. I’ll be in there. You can do this.

You give him a tight-lipped and watery-eyed smile before gushing, “I’ll see you on the other side, right?” He squeezes your hand again and then steps away with a nod and says, “I doubt you could get rid of me if you tried.”

A dry giggle escapes you, making you breathe deeply for the first time that day. You are handed a bouquet of flowers, and as you turn to thank the maid, Levi disappears. Not a moment later, music starts to play from the other side of the doors right before they open.

You are met with the faces of hundreds of lords and ladies, people from the town, and the face of the priest and the man you were marrying standing on the altar. You take a deep breath before marching like a soldier down the aisle decorated with flower petals and large arrangements.

Everyone is standing, staring. But you try to ignore them, focusing on the feeling of your feet landing flat on the ground, the softness of the ribbon holding your bouquet together. The way your heart beat for another man, but was about to be given away to a stranger.

While it seemed like a mile long, you eventually make it to the altar, and you are met with the face of the man you were set to marry. You knew he was probably a good man. He probably had goals for his career, wanted to father a gaggle of children, wanted a wife he could count on and love.

And you knew you couldn’t do that for him.

Mindless words echo out as you repeat the vows from the priest, loveless and cold. You manage to make it through each line, but just as the priest asks, “Princess Y/n, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

I…. the thought reverberates in your head, I, I don’t love this man, I can’t marry him. 

“Y/n?” a voice calls to you, and it shakes you out of your head. Your (colored) gaze snaps from the priest, who looks concerned, to the man you are about to marry, around to the gathered congregation. In your heart, you knew you were searching for one person. One man you knew your heart burned for.

You turn back to the priest, withdrawing your hands from your betrothed, and you utter, “I, I can’t do this. My heart belongs to another.” At that, you grab your skirts, rush down the few steps, and run up the aisle, leaving the man at the altar.

The crowd gasps in shock at the scandal playing out in front of them, and you see people reaching for you, grabbing at you as you make your way out of the main hall. You don’t hear your father’s call after you, lost in the destruction your heart created.

“Ackerman, find her!” your father’s voice booms out, but the dark-haired knight is already on the move. The knight immediately takes off, running as he tries to keep your frame in sight. He knew you were strong from all of your training, but evidently, your stamina was still intact despite wearing a heavy gown.

You find yourself running blindly, passing maids, butlers, and gardeners finishing up the last touches of flowers for the reception. Your lungs were burning like the red-hot flames from the forge you passed in desperation. You push past all of them, tears blurring your vision as you run as fast as you can away from everything.

You can hear footsteps following you, but you don’t really care who it is or what they want. “Leave me alone, please!” you wail as you tear through bushes, your eyes closed as you burst into an open garden. Unknowing to you, you ran the entire way to the Josephina Garden where you first encountered a certain dark-haired knight.

Not a moment later, a warm hand closes on your wrist, and you are quickly spun around to face the assailant. You blink through the tears as you make out the figure of Levi, concern written all over his face. Your chest is heaving from your run in the heavy white dress, but Levi seems rather unphased.

He takes a deep breath before stuttering out, “W-why did you say that, Y/n? You know you shouldn’t lie about stuff like that, especially in front of your family and, and the kingdom.” You can see the emotion on his face plain as day, like reading a book that you know word for word.

You could see the way his brow creased, like the gaps between paragraphs when the words seemed to stop flowing. You could see the confusion in his grey, steel eyes, that reminded you of the words you had to reread over and over again just to understand their meaning.

Every feature of his face, you knew, though. Levi was like the dog-eared fold in your favorite book, the paper worn smooth from how many times you flipped it open. He was like your favorite line when the girl finally let the guy take her out on the town on their first date.

Levi was memorizable, you knew every piece about him, and every thought and feeling as he stood in front of you, grasping your arm. Yet he was blind, and couldn’t read the book that he was himself.

“I am in love with someone else!” you shout again, moving to pull your wrist away from the grasp Levi had on it. He doesn’t budge though, holding you firm as you try to pull away from him.

He pulls you closer, his second hand coming up to grasp your shoulder as he barks, “Who?! Who on this goddamn earth would you be in love with?!” Levi pauses, looking deeper into your (colored) eyes before his voice cracks and he murmurs, “I’m your best friend, Y/n, you would have told me if there was someone else you loved.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, willing the tears to stop flowing and your heart to stop pounding as loudly as it was. You could feel it rattling your ribcage, attempting to crawl up your throat and make a fool of yourself.

And it betrays you in an instant.

“It’s you!” you exclaim, ripping your arms away from him in a moment of strength, throwing them into the air. The words ring out loudly, the silence that followed them almost deafening. You peek your eyes open as you look up from the ground to meet Levi’s hardened and confused gaze.

“It’s you, Levi,” you whisper as you lock eyes with him. He turns his head in bewilderment, and then he starts shaking it in denial, “No. No, it’s not. It’s not me, Y/n. Don’t joke with me about this.”

You laugh dryly as you throw your hands in the air again and scoff, “I wouldn’t lie or joke about something like this, Levi.” You meet his intense gaze again and gesture to him with a softer, “You know I wouldn’t.”

You can see him swallow thickly, his hands clenching by his sides. You can see the words forming on his lips, and you can just barely hear them when he whispers, “You can’t…” Levi doesn’t say anything after that, so you take the moment to fill in every question you know is racing around his mind.

“It’s… it’s always been you, Levi. It’s been you since the very first training session when you knocked me to the ground,” you start, your right hand coming up to caress your left bicep in shyness. “It’s been you since that night in the forge when you helped me cope with Rico’s death,” you whisper.

You shrug as you smile fondly and state, “It’s been you since you let that little girl dance with you at the festival. It’s been you since you sat on the roof with me, giving me a taste of normalcy.” You sniffle as fresh tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s always been you.”

Levi is mute. Not a sound escapes him as his mouth parts, unsaid words and questions hanging on the tip of his tongue. You don’t say anything, letting him process each and every moment, reliving them as you did in your own mind.

Finally, he speaks, “You’re lying. You can’t possibly love someone like me.” The words are harsh and cut right to your core. Lying? He thinks you’re lying? The look on his face shows that he is completely dumbfounded, flabbergasted, amazed. 

Emotion and frustration builds up inside you as he denies you again. And then, you’ve had enough and you can’t handle it anymore.

“Believe me!” you shout, your voice ripping at the heightened volume. You pause as you feel your throat tighten and clench. Then, “Bel-believe me, when I say this to you, Levi,” and you straighten your shoulders to match his stance.

You meet his gaze and then your voice rings out, “Believe me when I say I love you.” A sob wracks your body and then you finish, “Because I do. I do love you, Levi, with my entire being.”

Passion overcomes Levi and he lunges forward, grabbing onto your waist as if you would disappear under his touch. He holds onto you for the first time without ever asking, pulling you close to him as he urges, “Repeat that, please.”

You look deep into his eyes as your hands come up to cup his angled cheekbones and you whisper, “I said I love you.” A smile cracks through Levi’s lips as he watches your lips move and as tears well up in his grey eyes he rushes out, “Again!” 

A slight giggle falls from your lips as you repeat, “I love you, Levi.” The dark-haired knight just grips you tighter, pulling you closer and more flush to his chestplate. A moment passes between the two of you, and with Levi looking deep into your (colored) eyes he murmurs, “I love you, Y/n.”

You feel butterflies erupt in your belly, the feeling completely washing over you in mere seconds. Levi moves one hand from your waist to slowly close his palm on your cheek, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

“... may I?” his voice comes out so soft you almost miss what he says, but the meaning behind his silver gaze is undeniable. With such an intensity, his eyes flicker from your own (colored) ones to your parted lips, and there is no doubt in your mind.

Not trusting your voice, you nod, leaning into his touch without another thought. His nose bumps yours in a way that could be seen as clumsy and inexperienced, but it’s endearing the way he pauses, allowing himself to enjoy the smallest touches.

He nuzzles you for just a moment before his lips land on yours, soft and warm. He’s slow as his mouth meets yours for the first time. Levi is nothing but gentle as he kisses you, holding you with such a tenderness that it makes your knees weak. You clutch onto him as you let your mouth move against his, enjoying every second of his love.

You can’t bear to open your eyes when you feel him pull away, wanting to savor every fleeting memory of Levi kissing you. When you do allow your eyes to flutter open, you find Levi staring at you, cheeks pink and an embarrassed look on his face.

“Was that not to your liking?” you ask quietly, scared that you had somehow messed up your first kiss with the knight. Levi shakes his head from side to side, and with a small smile, he replies, “No, not at all. I just can’t believe there was something so perfect out there and I never knew it until this moment.”

You feel heat wash over you at his comment, eyes tipped toward the ground. The hand that was caressing your cheek stops your movement, pulling your chin up to face him. Levi’s gaze is so intense it feels like knives are splitting you open and he says, “You are so beautiful, Y/n. I would lay down my life for you if you asked.”

You smile at him and lean into his touch before whispering, “Let us hope it never comes to that, Levi. I don’t think I could live without you.” Levi smiles and murmurs back, “As you wish, princess, as you wish.”

–The End–

Tags: @anlian-aishang @xyumemi @xxdragonwriterxx @starstruckkittensweets @darlingheichou

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #annie leonhart #pieck finger #erwin smith #miche zacharias #reiner braun #porco galliard #colt grice #zeke yeager #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #levi attack on titan #attack on titan x y/n #shingeki no kyojin x you #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin levi #shingeki no kyoujin

[thepaperpanda]

Fondle Me || Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya reader

Summary: Your friendship with Neteyam came with a little benefit of fondling and sharing steamy kisses from time to time. Now, you are ready to take your relationship to another level

Warnings: smut & sweetness ❤🔥

Word count: 3390

Author: Rouge

A/N: prior to reading, it’s important to know that: the reader is female Omaticaya ✤ characters are aged up (Neteyam is 20, reader is 19) ✤ a few things are in Na'vi language ✤ despite being seriously injured during Skirmish at the Three Brothers, Neteyam survives ✤ you'll find a glossary underneath the fic

Divider by wonderful firefly-graphics

My first kiss is still fresh in my mind. The spring afternoon was steamy, and a deserted hut was muggy, despite the lack of doors that allowed the air to circulate. Sitting on the cot, I pondered who I would like to become in the future. In some cases, I needed time for myself, time I could spend thinking and losing myself in distant thoughts. After peeking inside, Neteyam sat next to me to ensure that I would not be alone. His prowess at finding me everywhere made it impossible for me to stay alone for too long.

As we sat and talked, we discussed everything, including our hunting classes and our teachers. Our friendship began at an early age, since his family was well known in the neighborhood. Neteyam was the first boy who truly became a friend to me. The tease he gave me was not aimed at hurting me, but rather at making me laugh or blush. His jokes suddenly came to a halt, and he looked at me in a completely different way he had never done before. Suddenly he leaned over and kissed me, just like that. It was a gentle, sweet, hesitant kiss at first, but once he was sure there was no resistance within me, his lips brushed more firmly against mine. In a soft, brushing motion, he kissed me again; Neteyam's tongue flickered over his lips and onto mine. After I sighed, he embraced me and we kissed again. Although we were both so young, only fifteen at the time, we were extremely curious about everything, especially corporeality. My mouth parted soon after, and his tongue snaked in and ran along mine. It was the first time I'd kissed anyone, and I felt my body reacting, even though I was slightly afraid. As I ran my hand through his dark hair, I felt a sense of comfort. The kiss deepened as we shifted. His hand reached down and rubbed along my breast, teasing the nipple through my clothing as I felt myself becoming wet. It was no secret to me that Neteyam's hands and mouth were turning me on. When Neteyam drew back and gazed at me intently, he traced my face with his hands before touching my lips with his slender fingers. When he stuck one in, I suckled it, and I realized I had made the right choice when I saw the look on his face: so blissful and primal. In no time at all, the finger was gone from my mouth and Neteyam kissed me once more, this time more hungrily, and I moaned into his mouth. A raised voice from his parents searching for him tore us apart faster than if someone had walked into the hut. As I jumped off my previous position, I cupped my cheeks as if I were cooling them down and wiping them off blush. As our eyes locked, we began a new chapter in our lives. We grabbed each other's hands and walked out of the abandoned hut. As we got outside, he squeezed my hand before releasing it; it was obvious that he wanted to keep a poker face so as not to draw unnecessary attention and questions, and I fully agreed with him. While waving at his mother, he walked away, somehow managing to hide his flushed expression from her. The first kiss I ever had was that one.

My memory of that moment is still vivid years later. The few moments we shared over the next few years - never extending beyond kissing and cuddling - proved that we were better as friends, regardless of how hot we felt together. Yet the more time passed, the less hesitant Neteyam became in showing his affection towards me; he wanted more, I was certain.

Neteyam pays me an unannounced visit one day and stands near my cot, watching me, completely silent. 

My focus is on making arrows and I do not notice anything around me, humming a soft song my mother used to sing for me when I was a toddler.

“Y/N,” Neteyam whispers and only his tone breaks my state of thoughtfulness.

Looking up at him over my shoulder, I whimper, "Dear Eywa, you scared the hell out of me. Please don't do that again. What do you want, Net? You were on patrol with your parents, I thought.” As he places both of his hands on my shoulders, gently rubbing me with his long fingers, I stiffen. "I missed you, Y/N," he replies simply, but his voice has a dark quality to it.

I put the arrow down; my eyes are closed and I am enjoying his warmth and firmness of his touch - it is a feeling I have yearned for. I can hear a small shift behind me, and then, suddenly, I feel a hot sensation spill over the crook of my neck - his lips brush gently against my skin, leaving me breathless. “Neteyam,” I whisper, barely moving my lips.

As he bites my ear shell, he asks simply, "Don't you want to try?"

Turning my face toward him, I place one of my hands on his already flushed cheek - all I see in his eyes is an unfulfilled, primal longing. My voice is no more than a whisper as I ask, "Are you certain nobody will bust in here on us?"

"Yeah," he replies, nibbling on my earlobe once again, and I sigh profusely.

While I want to tell him this is not a good idea, the other side is far stronger - I crave him, and this craving cannot be silenced anymore. Oh shit, I think to myself after the contractions in my lower abdomen that are the pure sign of arousal building in. 

It's clear that Neteyam knows exactly what he is doing to me, and his expressions make me confident he will not stop; that cocky grin of his dancing in the corners of his lips.

After resting my forehead against his for a few moments, I nod in approval. My waiting has been long, but I wanted to make sure Neteyam felt the same way about me as I did about him. On the cot, I let him lay me down; my eyes never left his.

A much-longed kiss is a real beatitude when he leans forward and starts making out with me. His hands move to the piece of clothing covering my breasts, and within the blink of an eye, he removes the piece of clothing covering them, leaving my chest bare, exposed to his hungry eyes. After undoing the strings of my loincloth, he throws it aside - now I'm completely naked in front of him and blush covers my cheeks even more. Neteyam watches my hips flexing in tiny circles as pleasure builds. As his palm brushes against my engorged clit, he cups my pussy with his hand, and I moan as my hips jerk. My soaking entrance is rimmed by his finger for a brief moment as he chuckles. I spread my legs for him as he dips his finger inside me, teasing me while my hands knead my breasts slowly. Neteyam's finger slips out soon, and he removes his hand, bringing it to his face so he can lick my juice from it before bringing it down to my mouth. Taking in a mouthful greedily, I enjoy the taste while pleasing him with my tongue and mouth.

As I cup him boldly between his legs, Neteyam's cock throbs under my hands. It feels larger than I remember, but I caress it lovingly and his eyes close as he enjoys the sensations I am bringing. His finger is finally removed from my mouth and he steps back.

I lay down, as Neteyam slowly undoes his loincloth and slips out of it, and I run my fingers along my inner thighs, caressing the outer lips of my pussy, watching him carefully. When I see his semi-hard cock, I lick my lips, and he smiles, knowing what I want.

Neteyam strokes my hair as I sit up and reach out and caress the hot velvet skin as I improve my position on the cot. It twitches and I watch it lengthens. I lick the head of his dick and he gasps. Just as I'd heard other women speak about those matters before, I swipe my tongue along his shaft while cupping one of his balls lightly in my hand. Neteyam gasps heavily.

I can't completely wrap my fingers around Neteyam's thick base as I finally suck the head fully into my mouth. Saliva runs down my chin as I fondle his balls with one hand and rub his dick with the other. I feel his hands on my head as I move my mouth back and forth, my tongue rubbing against the sensitive skin on his shaft. Before dipping down to lick his balls, I pull back and run my mouth and tongue down one side, then back up the other side of his shaft, earning a deep, animalistic grunt from him.

Grasping at my hair, Neteyam pulls me away from his balls and back to his cock.

My hands and tongue ran along his shaft, making him moan again as I sucked him in greedily. I take him in deep and suck him as I slowly pull my mouth back. I slip one of my hands down to play with my pussy, I am able to relieve the burning sensation built there already.

"Not yet," he orders firmly, taking my hand away. As I moan sadly around him in my mouth, he gasps, "Do it again, Y/N."

Neteyam's hips start to fuck at my mouth as I moan and hum for him. As my hand rubs faster and faster along the shaft, his balls begin to tighten up. I pull my mouth back to concentrate on the blood-engorged head of his cock.

He clenches his fingers around my head as he tenses up, grunting.

After the first stream of cum hits my back of the mouth, I choke for a moment, yet I swallow and continue to jack him into my mouth. My tongue pools with warm cum as he releases a few more streams. My cum-coated tongue runs along the highly sensitive head of Neteyam's dick while he moans and shakes, just for me. A few more spurts and he finishes cumming. Before I pull away, I lick his cum from my mouth and scoop up a few drops of it with one of my fingers as I doe-eye him, smiling innocently.

Using his finger, he wipes off the last drop of cum from the corner of my mouth and smears it across my lips. In the same way he kissed me the first time, Neteyam bends down and pulls me to my feet, licking my lips with his tongue.

Suddenly, my pussy twitches as his tongue licks up his own cum and dives into my mouth, slowly dancing with mine.

He gently pushes me back to the cot, murmuring, "Sit down." When I follow his command, he kneels down in front of me.

As his hands sweep down my legs, they are lifted up and thrown over his shoulders. My labia were lightly skimmed by his fingertips as they traced along the inside of my thighs. His breath runs through the sticky wetness of my arousal as he leans forward and breathes in deeply. I feel my hips buck slightly as his breath triggers my senses.

As Neteyam holds my hips still, he says lowly, "Easy. Mmmm, I love your scent, oeyä 'eve."

My senses are set ablaze by his words, so I whimper. I feel and hear him inhale the scent of my arousal, as if savoring it. Neteyam's tongue snakes out to scoop up the moisture gathered on the outer lips of my pussy before I can catch my breath. As he continues to lap, he hits all of my sensitive spots except the one I want him to lick; I moan loudly, closing my eyes. The pulse in my head, heart and clit is pounding as his tongue works its way between my folds and rim along the outer edge of my hot pussy, pushing in. Neteyam's nose barely brushes my clit, and I whimper as his tongue licks up inside me. I writhe on the cot as he giggles and pulls back. "Rutxe," I beg.

I can feel a tremor running through me as Neteyam asks, "Please what?" His voice is rough from arousal. "I want your tongue to fondle my cunt," I moan helplessly, grasping my nipples and pinching them hard.

Again, he chuckles as he presses his face back to my hot pussy, attacking my clit and making me shriek and moan as his teeth gently nibble it before he begins to suck on it, then I feel him inserting two fingers into me, stroking my velvety inner walls. He moves his mouth lower and his thumb strokes the highly sensitive nubbin as his tongue enters me again and again.

My orgasm peaks as Neteyam takes my hot clit into his mouth and sucks on it again, then begins to hum, sending shivers throughout my body - then I start to shudder. While my hips lift off the cot and I cry, I can feel my eyes roll back from the unbearable pleasure. It takes a few minutes for me to recover from that, as he lightly licks and nibbles at my pussy still, his eyes never leave my flushed face. As I finally stop shaking, he kisses his way up my slender body, nestling himself at the apex of my legs. I reach down and take Neteyam's cock in my hand - he's hot and hard again.

It's Neteyam's turn to moan as I rub the head of his cock along my slick clit; my body shivers in response, my lips parted as I watch his blissful expression. He takes my hand away and replaces it with his own when my juices coat the head of his cock. My legs wrap around Neteyam’s waist and help him slide deeper in as he guides his dick deep into me. Upon reaching the end, he lets out a husky grunt.

There has never been anyone who has filled me with as much as he does. The pulse of his body throbs in tangent to mine. My hips flex and Neteyam smiles before pulling out slowly. When his penis slips out, he bites his lower lip a little, then pushes in all the way back in with one powerful move.

As he continues pushing in followed by slowly, agonizingly pulling out, the feeling and sensation within me grow more intense.

My voice is breathy, "Nì'ul, Neteyam!"

A look of concern crosses his face as he looks down at me, stopping.

I doe-eye him while running the tip of my tongue along the bottom of my parted lips as my hair is spilled on the cot, my nipples are dark and hard, and my body is flushed with desire.

Even though he's already aware of the answer, Neteyam asks, "What do you want me to do, little one?"

"Fuck me," I plead, "I want you to fuck me, to possess me, to claim me yours."

With a dark chuckle, Neteyam picks up the pace, soon pounding into me hard; the cot is rocking back and forth with the rhythm of Neteyam's powerful thrusts. Upon hearing my moan, he dips his head down to bite and lick my nipples. Neteyam gasps and takes one of them into his mouth, sucking hard; I cry out and rake my nails along his back, leaving red marks on his sweaty skin. He shudders and moans. In order to grind his hipbone against my clit, Neteyam pushes into me as hard as he can, grunting sharply. As my hips twitch towards his, I pull him down for a hot, tongue-filled kiss. Once again, Neteyam picks up his pace; he rubs my calf with the free hand as he leans into the other one, frowning at the painful throbbing on his cock. “Y/N… Fuck, I-I can’t any longer…” With one arm around his neck, I pull him closer, and the other I wrap around his waist. I whisper, "Cum for me," directly into his ear. "Your seed in me is what I want, yawntutsyìp."

I watch Neteyam's facial expression changes as he begins to come. "Ma Eywa! Sran!" “Neteyam! ” I yell as my fingers work on my clit, rubbing it viciously and bringing the most intense orgasm to me. The first spurt of his cum lands inside my hot, clenching pussy and milks my inner walls. Neteyam pulls out of me quickly and he lands another one on my abdomen. More cum spurts and oozes out as he straightens up and strokes himself rapidly.

Watching me lean over for a soft kiss, he lies on his side. "It was fucking amazing," Neteyam murmurs. As his breath still needs to be calmed, he allows me to rest my head against his chest that rises and falls rapidly.

I lightly trace the edges of the old bullet wound left on his chest with one finger. "I'm glad you're with me, and that you're safe. I thought I had lost you then..."

Neteyam grabs the blanket situated nearby and covers us both. Taking my palm in his hands, he places a kiss on its surface. "Don't think about it anymore, Y/N. Nga yawne lu oer.” In the end, he turns me onto my side and spoons up behind me, and we fall asleep together; his warm breath bathing the back of my neck, sending some shivers down my spine.

I woke up some time later, alone. Taking a slow look around my hut, I find no sign of Neteyam; the only thing that reminds me of him is the sex scent filling the air. Whenever I think of Neteyam, I either smile or just sigh, feeling the warmth spreading throughout my body.

All of a sudden, my attention is drawn to something neatly wrapped in a piece of cloth lying beside my bed. A slight frown crosses my forehead as I slowly stand, tightening the blanket around my figure and picking the thing up to examine it closely. It is a handmade necklace decorated with lortsyal's wings - it's a fine piece of craftsmanship. My lips part slowly, and I exhale deeply, covering them with my curled hand. Gifting clothing or jewelry to someone means keeping them close to one's heart; it is a widely practiced act. Therefore, Neteyam has the same feelings for me as I do for him, I think to myself as I cradle the necklace close to my chest. I have never received a gift as beautiful as this one. With a smile I look in the darkest corner of my hut. A waytelem I made for myself gleams in the dim light of the eclipse while hanging on the wall. As I think about adding a bead to it, the bead telling the story of my relationship with Neteyam, a smile spreads across my lips. Although we aren't officially mated, I know Neteyam treats me genuinely and seriously. “Ma Eywa, please hear me out,” I whisper to myself, offering my sincerest prayers to our Great Mother. “The depths of my heart are filled with love for him. Please, please allow me to become his other half, Great Mother.” While I pray quietly, at the gleaming stars above, I don't realize curious eyes are watching me the entire time. I come quiet when I hear my cot cracking, and I smile to myself as I recognize the smell as my nose twitches - it's Neteyam's strong scent feeling my nostrils.

Curling my lips in a tiny smile, I turn to him slowly.

A warm smile spreads across his face as he silently invites me to join him, and I am delighted to do so. After wrapping me in his strong arms, he rubs my back and shoulders in long-lasting strokes. “Oeyä narlor ‘eve,” Neteyam whispers, kissing all over my face.

There is only one thing I know at that moment: I never want to part with him. For that, I'm willing to sell my soul.

Glossary:

oeyä narlor ‘eve - my beautiful girl

oeyä ‘eve - my girl

yawntutsyìp - darling

Ma Eywa - o Eywa

nga yawne lu oer - I love you

nì'ul - more

sran - yes (colloquial)

rutxe - please

lortsyal - shimmyfly

waytelem - songcord

#avatar the way of water #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader #omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam fic #neteyam imagines #neteyam fiction #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #na’vi!reader #avatar x reader #avatar smut #avatar recommendations

[easy-there-leftovers]

Can be read as a continuation to my previous work about Gale, but can also be read independently. In any case, this is mostly a filler short.

Today had been a tiring day, especially for their de-facto leader, Gale thinks. The situation at the goblin village could have turned for the worse had you not smooth talked your way through.

And yet you’ve gone back to dueling the fire with your eyes again, he notes. However unlike last time, he chooses to stay put in his own corner of the camp.

Given his last attempt at light but stimulating conversation, he’s mostly sure that he will never do such a thing ever again. Lest he wants to feel the less than comfortable stares of everyone awake when he returns to his tent.

Alone and unaccompanied.

Doesn’t mean that he can’t observe you from here though. While he should be reading up on a rather interesting book he picked up from today’s skirmish, the pages haven’t been graced with his eyes quite nearly as much as your form.

Naturally, he doesn’t realize this until something, or rather someone, catches his attention.

Astarion.

Usually not one to leave his own comfortable area of the camp, it was surprising to see him choose to settle in at a bedroll nearer the fire.

To approach you in such a manner. Almost as if you were familiar with another.

“Which couldn’t be since you would have only met one another after the crash,” he reasons.

Astarion makes a comment from his lax position on his bedroll. Opens the conversation with you the same way that he’s certain he did a few nights ago, and yet the response couldn’t be more different.

The action draws what looks to be an exasperated sigh from you, but Gale notices your eyes soften at the elf’s remark. You don’t turn to face him, but still respond while focusing on the camp’s light.

Astarion stands to be nearer to you, perhaps trying to convince you of something, as he slings an arm around your shoulder. Face, nearing yours. The thumb of his slung-over hand seemingly grazing the skin of your exposed collarbone, uncovered by the looser strings of your shirt.

Gale feels his jaw slacken as he watches this very scene unfold before him. The book, long forgotten as the strength in his arm wanes, almost dropping it. He feels his eyes bug out of his skull when he sees you place your hand on top the pale fellow’s in what he can only assume is an affectionate gesture.

He’ll admit, perhaps he wasn’t paying attention to you earlier in the days you reunited. With the way you were avoiding him, it seemed like you wanted him to forget you existed or pretend like you didn’t know each other.

But how could he?

How could he when you inspired him so?

How could he when your wit and creativity showed him more ways the weave could be practiced?

How could he when he knew that all your friends had always been more like Aatarion’s type, and that you’ve always seemed to avoid his?

He supposed he shouldn’t be be surprised then, if he claims to know you so well. It was inevitable that you would warm up to the elf so quickly. Alike in charm and nerve.

And if you still haven’t warmed up to the wizard in the years of study you shared, he doubts you ever will.

He watches how pleasing the pair of you look. With the sheer charisma you two radiated, it didn’t take much for anyone to assume you would have been coupled up or at the very least intimately engaged.

Ah, but where will all this conjecture get him? He’s still dealing with the loss of Mystra’s favor and it’s vicious consequences. What use would it be to watch like this?

He takes one last look at your joined hands before he sees you respond and heads in to his tent. Perhaps a bit of rest will help temper whatever wave of emotions it is that washes over him.

“Astarion.” You warn with your warmer hand atop his.

“Hm?”

You turn your head to look at him and you’re greeted by that self-aggrandizing smirk that always curls up on his face.

The sight makes you sigh. No answer to his earlier question will get you out of this.

Tricky bastard.

“Your fingers are cold.” He clicks his tongue at that, but removes himself from your form anyway. A catty, “you’re no fun” leaving his lips as he distances himself from you.

He smiles anyway and tilts his head to the side. Standing to rest all his weight on one leg, and waves you off with one hand.

“I’ll see you later, I’m sure.” You shakes your head at that and turn to leave.

“Good night Astarion.”

“Sweet dreams, dear mage.”

He’s convinced you enough to try.

#bg3 x reader #not proofread #I’m going to sleep now #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #Gale of Waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale of waterdeep x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 gale x tav #gale dekarios #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale bg3 #bg3 gale

[secondratefiction]

Keep You Safe - Commander Cody x Medic!Reader

Life Day Fic Exchange 2023 @cloneficgiftexchange

Written for @loving-the-cambridges

“Alright… unfortunately it does look like it’s broken…” You sighed, setting the trooper’s arm back down gently, “I’ll brace it and give you something for the pain and swelling until we get you back to the ship. 1 to 10, how bad is it hurting?”

“It’s feeling much better now that you’re taking care of me, mesh’la.” The trooper smiled up at you loopily and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Careful Shiny…” The voice behind you made you smirk and you turned to smile at Boil as he stared the trooper you were working on down.

“He’s fine.” You said, motioning the older trooper to come help hold the other’s arm while you splinted and wrapped it up, “It’s probably the shock and adrenaline talking anyway.”

“Even so…” Boil rolled his eyes but was still as gentle as possible holding his brother’s limb while you worked, looking pointedly back at him, “You show the medics more respect. Especially the nat-borns.”

“Careful Boil,” You laughed softly as you finished up the wrapping, helping the trooper put his arm in a sling before giving him an injection, “You’re starting to sound like your commander.”

You could see Boil’s lip twitch as he tried to maintain a professionally neutral expression, “Thank you ma’am.”

Declaring the newer trooper done for the time being, you quickly shooed him off with instructions to find one of the transports back to the starcruiser, once he was out of your tent set up, you turned back to Boil expectantly, “Alright, so what can I do for you?”

“The Commander is back ma’am, he asked for you.”

“Maker karking damn it…” You spun around quickly to grab your bag, “Maybe lead with that next time.”

You had literally watched the man bust his knuckles open, dislocate a wrist, and just keep throwing punches. If Cody was requesting a medic there was no way this was going to go well.

-*-*-*-

Your relationship with Cody was complex to say the least. Honestly, he’d barely paid you any mind in the very beginning… another nat-born medic that had been brought in because there was too much work for the clone medics to keep up with. But after a few weeks of you seeming to always be there every time he turned around, the Marshal Commander couldn’t help but notice the way you treated his brothers. Like actual people and that they were deserving of your real effort, care, and attention.

And there was also the fact that you had to be the single most persistent nat-born he’d ever had to work with… Usually, Cody avoided the medics when and wherever he could, leaving the time and supplies open for other troopers he considered more in need than himself.

You however were stubbornly opposed to his inexplicable need to ‘just walk it off’, going so far as to literally chase him down once when Waxer had ‘accidentally’ mentioned to you that he’d taken a rather hard kick to the ribs during the previous skirmish.

Granted, his ribs had been bruised, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

You weren’t hearing any of it though, and Cody had had to sit there petulantly while you’d tended to him.

That had been where the ice had started to crack, and eventually after much persistence and pursuit on your part, Cody had started coming to you, and exclusively you, whenever he was more than just a little bumped and bruised. And, you at least liked to think that, a sort of friendship had sparked up between the two of you….

What little free time he had, he was more than content to spend with you if the situation allowed, you’d sat in on more than a few meal time meetings with him, and you were always his first consult when it came to the best solutions for setting up the field medical stations.

The only other person you’d seen him be that casual and informal with was the General in their down time, so you’d like to think that meant you were in some kind of favor.

Which is what leads you here now, busting into the command tent with a barely contained panic, “I’m here! What happened?”

Cody was leaning against the large table in the middle with different maps and other planning materials strewn across it. One arm was hanging limply at his side, the other one holding it close against him to seemingly keep it from moving or getting jostled around.

“I can’t-” Cody grunted, trying to roll his shoulder again, “I can’t get it back in…”

“All right, stop - Stop moving it,” You shook your head crossing to him and quickly putting your hand on the uninjured arm, “Let me look.”

You started gently removing his armor to get a better look at the damage underneath. The hiss through your teeth was involuntary as soon as you got the spaulding off, just from the jut of his shoulder you could tell the joint was fully dislocated.

“Ok… good news is we can fix it…” You said looking up at him.

“The bad news is, it’s gonna hurt like hell.” He finished and you nodded sheepishly, “Alright… Let’s get it over with…”

The process wasn’t complicated, making Cody lay back across the table with his shoulder at the edge and hold your bag while you pushed the arm back out straight to get the bone to drop back into the joint. The loud crack made you wince, and completely justified the long, low string of curses Cody let out as he reflexively dropped your bag.

“Easy… Easy,” You helped him set up, making sure he moved somewhat gingerly until you could get a look at the rest of him, “Just relax a minute.”

“I’m alright,” Cody shook his head, trying to wave you off as he got back on his feet, “I need to get back out there.”

“Cody!” You snapped, grabbing him by the elbow of his good arm.

Whatever scolding you were about to give the commander was cut off by a loud explosion that rocked the ground beneath your feet. Cody moved quickly to grab you by the forearm, half dragging you out of the tent to see what was going on.

The second explosion went off far too close to the right of you and Cody barely had time to pull you into him before the two of you were sent flying through a cloud of dust and debris.

You registered something sharp hitting you in the back before everything faded away…

-*-*-*-

“C’mon cyare, you have to wake up for me…”

You groan lowly, trying to turn your head away from the incessant tapping on your cheek, blinking slowly as things around you came back into focus. The first thing to register was the ringing in your ears, followed quickly by the pain in your head and back.

“There you go kar’ta, easy.” Cody helped you sit up as gently as he could, shifting around behind you so you could sit propped up against him, “I tried to cover you, but you still took a hard hit to the head. Don’t try to move too fast just yet.”

You gave a weak laugh and leaned your head back against his shoulder, “Well, it’s nice to know you’ve been paying attention, even if you don’t actually listen to anything I tell you.”

You could feel the chuckle vibrate through his chest even if the trooper behind you was trying to hide it, “I always listen to you, mesh’la.”

To say you were a little stunned by his free use of endearments would be an understatement; other troopers, especially the new and shiny ones, through them around like water - a sweet, if a little awkward attempt to flirt with one of the first if not only females they’d had close contact with in their lives - but not Cody. He almost exclusively addressed you as ‘ma’am’ or your surname.

Either way it was still your turn to chuckle, turning your head to look up at him over your shoulder, “Yeah? You got a funny way of showing it, Kote.”

Another odd occurrence: Cody smiled, again laughing under his breath, as he looked away from you. If you didn’t know any better, and there was more light wherever the two of you were temporarily hidden, you would have sworn he was blushing.

“Just because I don’t always have the luxury of following your orders, doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention.”

Another explosion and the sound of blaster fire cut through whatever clandestine moment the two of you were having, Cody’s head immediately snapping back to the small cave entrance you assumed you’d fallen through, “We need to move.”

You nodded, pushing yourself back up to your feet, still a little unsteady, but there was no spinning feeling or nausea, so you could power through it.

“You stay right beside me, cyar’ika,” Cody said drawing his own blaster as he chanced peeking out of the cave, “Right on my hip, I’ll get you back behind the line.”

You nodded, as he slipped his helmet back on, “Right behind you Commander.”

Reaching back for your hand, Cody pulled you up beside him as close as he could get you, and just as you thought he was about to step out into the fray he stopped and turned back to you. Squeezing your hand, you could just tell Cody was staring down at you intently behind his helmet

“Stay with me, ner kar’ta,” Your eyes fell shut on their own accord as Cody leaned in to press the forehead of his helmet against yours, “I will keep you safe.”

In that moment, you had never believed anything more.

#star wars #clone wars #commander cody #commander cody x reader #commander cody x medic!reader #reader insert #LDE23 #clone fic gift exchange

[yostresswritinggirl]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥

pairing -> Alhaitham x Reader

word count -> 2249 words

themes : temporary paralysis, physical therapy, angst with comfort, feelings of distress and helplessness, specific description of passing out and weakness, reader discretion is advised, Alhaitham is staying by your side and helping you recover pretty much

A delicate foreign flower encased in a glass case. Unable to resist the gift, this admirer seemed to be too eager for you to open the glass for closer inspection. In the comforts of your home, a simple touch had made you as delicate as the frozen flora. If only Alhaitham had been there sooner. (Cyno ver., Tighnari ver.)

The glass case in your hand was not only heavy but cold, so cold in fact, that you had to pull your sleeves as cover for your freezing hands.

You'd soon find out that the man before you was a mask-less Fatui agent but currently, he is but a Snezhnayan tourist, perhaps a merchant with the exquisite gift he had bestowed upon you. Fatuus are barely seen in Sumeru after all, and they are usually Fatui Skirmishers in the desert side.

You also have a penchant for being unable to say no. At least, an outright refusal.

"Thank you for this." You stated with a forced smile as your eyes darted around, desperately looking for a sign of your silver-haired lover. Of course, the one time you needed him the most, he wasn't there.

"Why are you not opening it? Open it." He was infuriatingly persistent and demanding, so unlike your secret lover. Like there was some sense of urgency. At that time it made sense, in the public's eye you were a free fish in the sea with a lot of hooks thrown in front of you.

"I'm sure it looks pretty, I'm really thankful!" You winced as you adjusted your sleeve to cover more of your skin as one of your fingertip painfully stuck to the cold surface. "But I'm scared I might drop it, and we're in the middle of the street."

You were expecting an offer to perhaps hold the box, maybe open it for you and pass the flower instead but - "Then let me take you somewhere private so you don't have to struggle -"

"On second thought, I just realized I have something urgent to go to!" Red flag, red flag, red flag. You didn't even hesitate to show your defiance as you evade his hand that wanted to hold your wrist, quickly walking backward towards the bazaar's main doors. "Thank you for the gift! We can talk about it next time!"

And you disappeared behind the double doors, steps heavy as you made haste to your home before the stranger could see which direction you went to.

In the safety of your home, you couldn't help but laugh a breathless laugh at what you thought was exaggeration. It's not the first time you met a persistent suitor, nor received an odd gift, but somehow that foreigner just rubbed you wrong.

Perhaps next time you meet, you can offer an apology for your actions. If the gift is good, at least.

Looking at the glass case on your coffee table, you can help but admire it now that you weren't being pressured to. It was thick enough that it might not even break if you were to drop it from shoulder height, but the lid was made of a thinner material to see the content inside - if there wasn't a fog rolling inside it.

Pulling the lid off and quickly putting it down on the table before the frostbite hits your nerves, you watch in awe as the fog inside seemingly spills over the walls of the container on to the tabletop.

The flower itself looked like it was made of a deep blue glass with gold-like pollen surrounding an illuminated pointy crystal in the middle. There are also icy crystals nestled between the other petals. This is definitely from outside of Sumeru, you surmised as you plucked it off the dry ice bedding.

It was cold to the touch, the frostbite biting painfully like pinpricks on your fingertips before it numbed away almost immediately. You only got to admire it for a few seconds before your limbs started to feel heavy.

Bracing yourself on the table, your body started to slump forward against your will until your arms sent the glass and the ice off to your tiled floor. But you didn't hear a single thing when you should have heard the loud clatter, no, instead a piercing ringing sound invaded your ears.

Everything felt so heavy and so cold, yet you could feel your skin breaking out into a sweat. What's happening to you? Trying to focus on your dwindling breathing, your barely open eyes caught sight of your front door opening, a black and white figure entering your home.

It only registered in your mind that everything is washed in monochrome colors. But you know that build anywhere even without color.

Only did you hear Alhaitham's muffled call of your name did you finally feel safe enough to close your eyes.

Investigation

Alhaitham praised himself for following his gut feeling when he passed by your house that day, hearing the muffled but loud sound of items falling on the ground. Then a standstill.

If he had let it go as a mere accident, he wouldn't have been able to see the state you were in and administered the proper first aid: body cold and covered in sweat, nails a purplish blue, heartbeat slow and breathing low, and that darned flower slowly freezing your fingers.

He was admittedly scared beyond insanity, the usually well-kept Scribe was a mess upon arrival, words louder than he wanted as he demanded for a doctor.

Only when you stabilized did they break the news to him: symptoms that match syncope, but with a side effect of paralysis. The recovery is slower than any of the cases they had dealt with and so there was nothing they can do without any leads other than to wait.

Even the best of the Amurta scholars cannot identify the flower when he asked around, careful not to touch the flora itself. The powerful Akasha terminal had nothing to offer either, restricted records exhausted yet yielding no results.

Alhaitham rarely left home at this point, only leaving when there was a lead or something to get when you request it. His work as Grand Scribe was forgotten to focus on his goal, and when the Grand Sage himself visited to reprimand him for his work ethic, the only answer he got was to bring his work to him instead.

Day and night he spent his time glued to his study table with a permanent frown, papers stacking to a tall pile either from the Akademiya or his research, never once stopping until his desk was clear.

Kaveh initially thought that Alhaitham was playing you with a loveless relationship when he first heard of your relationship. But as he stood by the doorway, presence unnoticed by the Scribe as he fought to stay awake for 3 days now, he remembered that the man had always had a strict work setup:

Alhaitham never brought his work home, always putting a boundary between his work and personal life.

Yet here he was, throwing away his stability and vices to help you. Kaveh had never been so convinced that the Scribe was truly in love.

Recovery

The idea of kicking Kaveh out of the house crossed his mind once when he decided that you had to stay under the same roof until you recovered. He didn't have an extra room and the only other room up to his standards would be his -

And so began your confinement to his bedroom. With how you spend more time staying there than him sleeping in his own bed, it may as well have been named your room.

The first few days of recovery passed by quickly on your end, as the fatigue and the lack of freedom to do anything quickly coaxed you to long period of sleep. Your lover stuck by your side the whole time to make sure you at least drank and ate something, even if they are in small increments.

But the situation came crashing down in your mind one day, Alhaitham finding you crying quietly, eyes wide with fear, chest heaving with desperate breaths. You couldn't even squeeze his hand when he held it close, couldn't reply when he asked if you're struggling to breathe. He was also powerless on that situation, unable to do anything but hold you close until you cried yourself to sleep.

It was embarrassing, demeaning even, having to be taken care of like this. Alhaitham became your arms and legs, practically nothing without him, and on more than one occasion the thought affected you more than your condition.

After all, your relationship with Alhaitham is still in a fragile state. Not quite friends yet not quite lovers - before this incident, he was still in the process of courting you. Your wary glances towards him when he's caring for you may be obvious, but whether he noticed or not, he never addressed it.

Ever since the start of your care, Alhaitham had developed a habit you never foresaw: how he's always holding your limp hand. While he's not exactly aversive to physical affection, he was never this confrontational about it.

Every time he's in the room, the first thing he does is hold your hand and only letting go when absolutely necessary. Often you find your eyes lingering there, guilty that you can't squeeze his hand.

One day, with the pillows propped up against the headboard so you can sit up and rest against it, you were in the middle of teasing Alhaitham about the memory of your first date when his head snapped towards his hand.

His eyes were wide and bewildered as he squeezed your hand, and that's when you realized it - your fingers twitched in response to the pressure. "Do that again." And soon, you managed to curl your fingers, loosely wrapping around his own.

Progress, it was progress. With your blurry vision and happy tears, you do not notice the way Alhaitham's eyes glossed over in unshed tears, head bowed as he brushed his lips over your hand.

With your hope reignited and your energy returning from the prospect of recovery, the gloom that hangs over the Scribe's shoulders started to dissipate.

Whenever you feel sore from being in bed all day, he would call up a massage therapist with your consent. A few visits after, instead of the therapist he'll start massaging your arms himself daily.

Daily check-ups are a thing, by the way. Testing your grip and the weight your hand can hold, how high you can lift and twist your arms, at some point he stopped helping you to sit up (not because he's neglecting you now, he simply knows you'd rather not be babied all the time).

And as the road to recovery became clearer, you can see Alhaitham also change with you. More open with his emotions and feelings, doing things out of his norm (reading you story books from Inazuma to pass the time, ESPECIALLY when he started voice acting the lines), and generally just a stark contrast to how he was before the incident.

Your doubts and fears that Alhaitham would leave after taking up the burden of helping you soon disappeared. Leaving nothing but love-stricken smiles and warmth.

Aftermath

You'll never know the full extent of his research and sacrifices to find out your attacker and your illness. So you were surprised to find the General Mahamatra visiting to inform Alhaitham that they had found the suspect.

The Scribe carried you to the Akademiya with Kaveh tagging along. And when you saw the sight of the Snezhnayan merchant, the fatui agent being escorted to his trial in chains, your lover passed you to Kaveh.

Your bubbling fear at the sight of the criminal was replaced by shock as you all watch Alhaitham pull his arm back and deliver a right hook to the man's now broken jaw. No one, not even the Matra, dared to reprimand him.

Everyone knew the crime the criminal committed by now. After all, the whole of Sumeru had seen the Scribe walking around with you in his arms or in crutches, always by your side as you slowly regained control of your lower-half.

Your unfaltering resolve and tireless effort had everyone respecting you, some subtly helping here and there to make things more accessible for you.

In turn, the citizens and scholars of Sumeru began seeing Alhaitham more as a human than just the Akademiya's lunatic.

The flower was an extinct flora once found in Snezhnaya's tundras. It is the only surviving sample and the extent of its effects is still under research in the Amurta. When you asked about the criminal one day, Alhaitham simply said that you didn't need to worry about him anymore.

A full recovery would never be a thing and you accepted that fact long ago. But walks became your favorite past time with Alhaitham after being stuck in his room for months.

And now you only needed a cane to bring to your walks, the one you have now was a gift that he commissioned from Kaveh, its design and gems fashioned to mimic the style of his clothes. It was his gift for your first date after you became stable enough to walk by yourself.

One night, you quietly and carefully tiptoed from your shared room to sneak up behind Alhaitham, slightly making him jump when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders over the back of the couch.

Slightly turning his head, he took note of the absence of your cane. "I love you." His hand on your twitched for a second and you thought for a second that he stopped breathing. But only when he squeezed your hand did he finally reply, "I love you." Exchanging those three words for the first time.

Fun Fact: the flower is actually the flower in the Blizzard Strayer artifact set!

holy shit i did not expect to write this much, actually, i had to hold back a lot in the recovery here. Tighnari is the last one and this mini series would be over wooh!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #exile.flower #gender neutral #sumeru arc #genshin impact angst #alhaitham #al haitham

[aakariiiii]

Hai haiiii! I didn't know if ur requests was open rn or not (if they aren't feel free to ignore this)

But! If they are have you ever thought of something like this for baji?

Ok so imagine baji is walking around town with the rest of toman division leaders and he sees some manga(or ur favorite snack) and he almost admittedly stops everything to get it for you? Like......I would be the happiest soul ngl 😭💓

a/n: hihihiu yess!! my requests r open and im so happy u requested!! i hope u like iy tho !! im actually so happy u requested so thank u n enjoy <333

contains: Baji x Gn!Reader

——————————————————————

Despite the not very painful punches Baji was receiving yet the excruciatingly painful ones he was landing back, for a second, his focus wavered from the brawl and fixated on the cover of the Manga you’ve been talking about non stop.

The sounds of violence and the exertion of grunts faded away into the background as his attention was glued to the cover.

However, a particularly sharp jab brought him back to the reality of the fight, blood trickling down his face. But the image of your elated face, illuminated by the gift he was about to secure for you, eclipsed the pain.

As the skirmish intensified, he dodged and countered, his mind occupied by the vivid picture of you, fingers delicately flipping through the pages of the manga he was determined to obtain for you. His mind was suddenly fuzzy because of the erupting butterflies and flood of warmth caused by the thought of making you smile.

After a couple of punches and grunts, a brief moment of chaos allowed Baji to break free. Ignoring the throb of his body and the yells of his fellow Toman captains, he dashed towards the bookshop. He excitedly grabbed the manga and paid for it, finally emerging amidst a world of chaos and gang fights with the manga in his hand.

It really wasn’t like Baji to ‘back away’ from a fight, but the radiant smile he’d imagined drawn on your ethereal face that’d melt his hardened heart away. The mere thought made every drop of blood and every colourful bruise worth it.

——————————————————————

An interrupting knock invaded your peaceful night. Surely, it isn’t Baji as he told you that he has an important fight today, so who could it be, you asked yourself.

As you open the door, Baji’s tall figure flooded your vision, blood trickling down his handsome face and hinds behind his back. What caught you off guard though, other than the obvious vibrant bruises and cruel cuts that peppered Baji’s smooth skin, was the dashingly crooked grin that’s plastered on his face.

“Did you hit yourself on the head? Why are you smiling like that when you’re full of bruises and blood is trickling down your face? You totally look like a psycho, Kei!” You scrunch your nose, internally cringing at the horrendous state he’s in.

“You look like you came out of a war zone,” you added, furrowing your brows as you assessed his bruised appearance.

“I mighta been in a tussle or two— but I don’t really care—here, this is for you,” he shrugged as he so casually handed you the Manga volume you’ve been talking about for ages but couldn’t afford, making you gasp in surprise.

“Hold up—what? Kei, I’m so confused..what the hell is happening?! Why did my boyfriend show up in blood and then proceeded to surprise with the manga I’ve been talking about for ages—“ you couldn’t resist the smile that is making its way to your face. Such a small gesture truly made you feel like the happiest person on earth.

“Don’ know, it might be because you may or may not have the best boyfriend on the face of this earth,” he shrugged, smirking in a smug way.

You jumped onto your boyfriend, momentarily disregarding his injuries out of excitement, arms tangling around his neck as he snaked his hands around your waist. Although the embrace was truly comforting, he couldn’t help but wince as a sharp pain echoed throughout his body, but he ultimately refused to make it obvious.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you thanked him excitedly as your lips kissed his bruised face gently, a gesture that eradicated the pain away and made his blood dance in confusion.

A chuckle escaped his lips as you pulled away, offering to clean up that pretty face of his in which he refused because “There is no need, Mikey is probably gonna beat my ass up. You can clean up my face after that,”

“Shush—I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” you say as u lead him to the bathroom to gently tend to his wounds, a mix of tenderness and gratitude enveloped the moment, solidifying the bond between you two in a way words could never capture.

#tokyorevengers #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #toman #chifuyu matsuno #tokyo revengers sfw #draken #kenchin #mitsuya #tokyorev x reader #baji x female reader #toman baji #baji x y/n #baji fluff #baji #tr baji #tokyo revengers baji #baji x reader #keisuke #keisuke baji

[memories-of-ancients]

The Forgotten Mongol Heavy Cavalry,

When it comes to legends of the vicious Mongol conquests horse archers seem to be the celebrity rock stars of the Mongol Army who get all the fame and admiration. Depictions of Mongol battles in modern times usually show wild barbarian Mongol horse archers riding circles around enemy formations while showering them with volley after volley of arrows. Missing are the less glorified Mongol heavy cavalry, an absence which I’m sure would make the Great Khan sad because the Mongols had fine heavy cavalry. Not to put down horse archers, but horse archers alone don’t always win battles. While horse archers have their advantages, they also have several weakness and limitations, especially against opposing heavy infantry and cavalry equipped with shields and armor while in a defensive battle formation. What made the Mongols effective was not the mere fact they had horse archers, but because they had better tactics, among them combined arms tactics where they were able to coordinate the abilities of different units to accomplish a goal on the battlefield. This isn’t just a principle of Mongol warfare, but a principle of warfare in general. Whether we're talking ancient times or modern warfare, the side that has better combined arms tactics typically wins.  

The early Mongol Army consisted of 60% horse archers and 40% heavy cavalry. Later the Mongols would adopt new units such as heavy infantry, light infantry, siege units, and artillery conscripted from the peoples they conquered. However for this post I’m only referring to the early Mongol Army commanded by Genghis Khan and his general Subutai.  The purpose of the horse archers were as skirmishing units; to harass, sow chaos and confusion, and weaken the discipline of enemy ranks. The purpose of the heavy cavalry was to directly engage enemy units in close combat. To do their job, Mongol heavy cavalry were heavily armed and armored, much more so than their horse archer counterparts. They were armored head to toe in lamellar armor composed of metal plates sewn together into a suit. Often this armor also covered the horse as well. 

Their primary arm was a lance used to conduct charges. For melee fighting they would carry swords or axes, and also maces for armored opponents. They would also probably carry a shield. Along with their horse archer counterparts, Mongol heavy cavalry also carried a bow in order to engage the enemy at a distance. In essence Mongol heavy cavalry were similar to Middle Eastern or Byzantine cataphracts and European mounted knights. 

On the battlefield, Mongol units typically fought in five ranks, the first three ranks composed of horse archers, the last two composed of heavy cavalry.  During a Mongol charge, the horse archers would close to around 50 - 100 yards and fire arrows while the heavy cavalry would protect them from counterattack by enemy cavalry. It should be noted that Mongol heavy cavalry were also armed with bows, so likewise would be firing on the enemy as well. After firing, the formation would turn around, resupply with arrows, and remount with fresh horses. They would then repeat the charge again and again until eventually the enemy would weaken, begin to panic, lose discipline, and perhaps break ranks.  At that point the heavy cavalry would swoop in and smash the enemy formation. The Mongols also used deceptive tactics which the heavy cavalry would be an essential part. One common tactic was the feigned retreat, where a Mongol unit would pretend to retreat in panic as if defeated. The enemy would in turn charge expecting to chase down and massacre a terrified enemy. To their horror, the Mongols would reform and counterattack, the heavy cavalry at the front to smash the disorganized enemy and the horse archers firing from the rear. Another tactic would be to use the horse archers to draw the enemy into an ambush, where the heavy cavalry would appear from a hidden position and conduct a surprise attack on the enemy flanks or rear.

#history #mongols #medieval history #middle ages #cavalry #heavy cavalry #military history

[thedragonkween]

Prince Nuada Headcanons! 🤍

Prince Nuada x gn!Reader headcanons. I recently watched Hellboy II and I couldn't help but simp. I wrote these headcanons on how I think a relationship with him would be, and I wanted to share them with you! We can always do with a little more Nuada love. I hope you like them, and feel free to add your own headcanons if you have any!! I would love to hear your ideas 💕

Also, these are safe for work!

Protective, protective, protective. This beautiful, lonely prince knows how cruel the world can be, how many dangers lie in it. Every time he cradles your face in his hands delicately, he silently vows to himself that he will protect you. For once in his life, he has finally found his light - someone who listens to his troubles, who watches curiously as he tinkers with mysterious elven technology, who washes and braids his hair when he can’t bother to do so. He will fight to the death for you.

He is the literal embodiment of “scary dog privileges”, so if you ever want to go for a walk or a run after dark, he will be there by your side, scowling at anyone who looks at you for a moment too long.

He looms over you like a shadow, always ready to push you behind him and shield you with his body if someone or something threatens you.

This is especially true when you visit the Troll Market. You had to insist for Nuada to take you with him the first time, but in the end, he gave in, unable to resist your bright, hopeful eyes and warm smile (you are his weak spot, after all). He agrees on two conditions: you are not allowed to wander on your own, and if something dangerous happens (such as a skirmish or if a creature bothers you) the trip will be over, and you will return to the surface immediately.

Luckily, nothing dangerous happened and you were able to experience the bustling, chaotic atmosphere of the market undisturbed. Unexpected bonus: Nuada always kept a large hand on the small of your back, ready to guide you or to tuck you in the safety of his arms at a moment’s notice should something threaten your safety.

He loves it when you watch him train. It makes him proud to show off his strength, to remind you of his immense prowess and, by extension, his ability to defend you. He always puts in more effort when he knows you’re watching (he can’t help it: your adoring gaze is much too adorable to resist). He wouldn’t deny you if you asked him to train you, but he will remind you that you won’t ever need to pick up a sword as long as he breathes.

Nuala loves you!! She is so happy that her brother has found someone who cherishes him the way you do. She can’t hide her smile as she tells you that she has never seen her brother smile so much (which isn’t a lot, but for Nuada, it’s huge). She can feel how much you mean to him. She will want to get to know the person who has bewitched her brother body and soul (*wink wink*), so expect her to invite you to spend time with her to get to know you better. She grows to be really fond of your presence and of the joy that you bring. She is yours and Nuada’s number one fan.

Sometimes, Nuada just stares at you. He takes it all in: your beauty, your smile, your kindness - just you. He used to think that humans were hollow creatures, incapable of showing empathy or kindness towards anyone or anything. But then you came along. You, so sweet, so ready not to treat him differently because of his past or his actions. He never stood a chance.

When you two are alone, he’s all over you. His preferred form of physical affection is through spoiling you with soft, delicate touches that always leave you trembling and craving more of his warmth. He will tuck strands of hair behind your ear if he wishes to better see your beautiful eyes when you’re talking to him, only to peck your lips unexpectedly when the urge to be close to you overtakes him. He is a legendary warrior who is quick to bestow death upon his enemies, but with you, he is as gentle as a soft breeze. His gentleness is a stark contrast to his power, but wholly welcome.

He becomes quickly addicted to kissing you. Your lips are soft and heavenly, how can he resist? He will usually move his lips against yours slowly, savoring the moment, one big hand behind your head so he can kiss you to his heart’s content, and the other tucking you against his chest. He loves it: it reminds him that you’re safe with him, protected against all the evils in the world. He won’t let you go until you’re sighing in bliss against his lips.

He will let you braid and style his hair. He loves the feeling of your smaller fingers running through his hair. To be touched so softly after a lifetime of war is heavenly. And moreover, he has to admit that, even if you are not a professional, the hair styles you choose for him always suit him. He appreciates both simple updos and intricate braids – as long as he gets to feel your hands and spend time in your presence, he’s happy.

How could I forget his markings? Nuada will let you run the tips of your fingers over the markings over his nose and temple – he is proud of his heritage and even more proud of you accepting his culture. Similarly, he will let you explore his battle scars: they are reminders that he has fought many battles and won, and therefore they are a testament to his courage and strength.

He will tell you about his culture, his people, and his language. He will even try to teach you a few words in Elvish, loving the way his tongue sounds when spoken from your mouth (also, imagine him telling you how beautiful or amazing you are in Elvish, loving the way you have no idea that he’s saying such intimate things to you). He is very proud when you listen intently to his stories and ask questions. He will feel honored that you show this much interest for his culture, further solidifying his belief that you are the one he wants to spend his life with. Also, expect him to use so many pet names in Elvish!! And then he smirks when you ask him what they mean – you won’t get a response until he's kissed you tenderly, the meaning whispered against your lips soon after.

All in all, I think Nuada has a lot of love to give under all his layers of anger and anguish. He is a loyal partner and an exceptional friend, always ready to be your rock and to steady you when life becomes too tough. He is your watchful protector and your greatest ally 🤍.

#prince nuada #nuada #prince nuada x reader #nuada x reader #hellboy 2 #hellboy ii #hellboy #prince nuada x you #nuada x you #nuada imagines #prince nuada imagines #mywriting

[dottcre]

Just imaging having Dottore cockwarm you while talking to lower fatui-

I’ll go

👨🏻‍🦯

OKAY I SAW THIS ASK SUPER LONG AGO BUT. WOW. WOWOWW.

contains : sub!dottore, amab!reader, cockwarming, voyeurism, handjob, open ending bc i’m horrible at ending a smut <3

just.. nonchalantly talking to your underling though it was clear that they wanted nothing but to leave the room.

some of the fatui skirmishers working under you walking in on dottore squirming on your dick, embarrassed and face flushed red as he commanded for them to leave immediately. to their horror, you snapped at him, shutting him up immediately as you asked for your minions to continue with their status report.

the skirmishers having to stay on their knees in front of you to show their respect, forcing them to be at a face-to-dick level with dottore. they could see the way his hole clenched around your dick, the slight shaking of his thighs and the way yours were flexed, supporting the man on your lap. he was beyond humiliated as he could practically feel their eyes on him. him! il dottore, fucked a lower ranked fatui harbinger! the rumours wouldn’t sound good, and there was no way he could stop them from spreading.

it became even worse when you started playing with his cock, a bored expression on your face though he could see the way your eyes twinkled with amusement. the wet “schlick”s bounced off the walls as the fatui agent’s voice got nervous and shaky. at this point, it was obvious that you were just dragging this awkward situation out for your own pleasure, and to humiliate your lover, yet the people in the room knew better than to go against you.

#@ letter from a dove #@ from nonnie ! #sub dottore #dottore smut #dottore #genshin #genshin smut #sub genshin #sub character #dom reader #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin impact